A Far Justice

by Richard Herman

  Gus’s head came up, his jaw set, his voice firm. “Not guilty.” The words echoed over the courtroom.

  Bouchard jotted down a note. “Madam Prosecutor, you may present your opening statement.”

  Denise stepped to the podium and, fully aware that the cameras were on her, fought the urge to toss her hair into place. “Since time immemorial, war has been the curse and the fate of humankind. But for the last thousand years the civilized world has tried to limit and control its destructiveness.”

  Hank resigned himself to a long speech and split his attention as Denise spoke. It was a skill he had developed as a prosecutor, and he relied on a sixth sense to catch the key words and phrases he called ‘bullets.’ “The law has proven to be our refuge and guide in this quest,” Denise said. Hank studied the three judges for their reactions. Nothing. He waited for Denise’s first bullet. It came twelve minutes later. “The precedents of Nuremberg and the Tokyo war trials must not be lost.” The look on Richter’s face was ample evidence that Denise had pushed the wrong button. But Della Sante was different. She had a calm and understanding look but there was something about her neither Hank nor Catherine could read.

  Again, Hank waited for the next bullet. Denise did not disappoint him. “International law,” she said, “has given us guideposts by distinguishing between civilians and combatants. We must not erase this distinction, we must not allow anyone to cross this line and drag humanity into the depths of unrestricted warfare using weapons that are inherently meant to be indiscriminate and widespread in their effects.” A low murmur of approval swept through the audience.

  Hank studied Gus’s reaction as Denise continued. The pilot was playing it perfectly with just the right mixture of respect and doubt. He glanced at his watch. Denise had been talking for over an hour. He studied the judges and their body language and decided they weren’t really listening.

  “The Rome Statute,” Denise said, playing to her audience, “has been rightfully criticized for its inability to reach into the past and to correct obvious crimes against humanity. Fortunately, our system of justice has grown and matured and we can now correct this fault.” Della Sante beamed as she listened. Ten minutes later, Denise reached a conclusion. “The law is not mere theory but an instrument for bringing justice to those who commit crimes against humanity. No state or organization is on trial here, only the individual who committed these crimes, who wantonly killed hundreds of innocent people. Need I remind the court, or the world for that matter, that there is no statute of limitations for murder? As such, the court’s jurisdiction is not subject to any statute of limitations. For these reasons I bring you the criminal Tyler. I do this under the authority of the Rome Statute, and in the name of the United Nations, and for all humanity.”

  A smattering of applause rippled across the room and crescendoed into a roar. Bouchard looked tolerantly at the audience as it died away. “We are in recess for lunch and will reconvene in two hours.” The courtroom rapidly emptied as the spectators and judges hurried to the restrooms.

  Hank turned to his wife. “Any ideas?”

  “A few,” she said. “I’ll know better after we finish today. I’d suggest Alex keeps it short.”

  “That’s the plan.” Hank ambled over to Gus who was still in the dock. “How’s your bladder doing?”

  “No problem. Why?”

  “You need to project an image of a man totally in control of himself, and at ease with who and what you are. When anyone looks at you or Jason, I want them to see who they want to be. When they look at the judges, they’ll see who they are.”

  “And if they look at Du Milan?” Gus asked.

  “Hopefully, the women will see a pampered, upper-class Frenchwoman and the men someone they want to take to bed. Get some lunch but keep it very light. We don’t need you nodding off.”

  Hank and Melwin ate a light snack in Hank’s office as they edited Melwin’s opening statement. All too soon, they were back in court and the clerk called everyone to their feet, starting the afternoon session. Melwin stood and murmured, “Friends, Romans, and countrymen.” He had his work cut out for him as he stepped to the podium. “If it pleases the court. We have heard an eloquent opening statement that appeals to the very depths of our civilization. Who can condemn any effort to limit and contain war? But war is a sickness of our civilization and not the individual. We have also heard an invocation to justice based on the unspoken principle of universal jurisdiction under the auspices of the Rome Statute creating this court. However, the idea of universal jurisdiction is little more than a legal chimera, a hopeful wish that is impossible to attain. It is not embodied in the Rome Statute nor in the charter of the United Nations. We are convened here, in a court of law, to hear the evidence and judge August William Tyler by the law, and not by a notion that lacks the test of time and experience.

  “If I may quote from the Report of the Preparatory Commission for the International Criminal Court, ‘The Rome Statute creating the International Criminal Court embodies a three-tiered hierarchy of law. The first tier is the Statute itself. The second tier is the applicable treaties and principles of the rules of international law, including the established principles of the international law of armed conflict. The third tier is pointed towards domestic law.’”

  Bouchard leaned forward in his chair. “The court is fully aware of the governing principles of the Rome Statute. Do not waste our time.”

  “Indeed, your Honor,” Melwin replied, totally unfazed by the unprecedented rebuke during an opening statement. “But I must note that these three principles form the very tripod on which the court is created. Ignore the international law of armed conflict and the edifice of the court cannot stand on the remaining two legs. And by the law of international armed conflict and its attendant conventions, August William Tyler has not committed a crime.”

  He sat down.

  Bouchard blinked, surprised by the brevity of Melwin’s opening statement. “The court is adjourned until tomorrow morning at ten o’clock.”

  Marci Lennox’s four bodyguards quickly captured a space outside the courtroom doors and held it against all comers. Within moments, she had Jason and Catherine in front of her microphone. “Mrs. Sutherland, you are a lawyer in your own right and have pleaded many cases in court. Were you surprised by the brevity of Melwin’s opening statement?”

  “Not at all. The defense has simply cut to the heart of the matter.”

  “Can you explain?”

  “It’s quite simple,” Catherine said, “Mr. Melwin has drawn a line between the international law of armed conflict on one side, and the so-called notion of universal jurisdiction on the other.”

  “I take it you disagree with the law of universal jurisdiction.”

  “It’s not a law of any type. Further, the idea of universal jurisdiction is the unwanted stepchild of established international law that allows any state to try an offender for crimes such as piracy and slavery that took place where no state had territorial jurisdiction. The men and women who drew up the charter of the United Nations never heard of it, and I assure you, they would have been shocked if they had. The judges will have to make a choice. Are they going to stay on established legal territory or venture into the unknown?”

  “Is there any indication of which way they’ll go?”

  Catherine gave her a thoughtful look. “At this point, no.”

  Denise stormed past Bouchard’s secretary and barged into his office. “Today was a fiasco!”

  “We have solved the problem of the clerk,” Bouchard replied.

  She paced the ornate carpet in front of his desk. “That was only the beginning. I ordered Tyler chained and shackled. That didn’t happen.”

  “I can’t change that now.”

  “There was no need for you to recess to rule on Melwin’s petition. You should have taken it under consideration and continued.”

  “Unfortunately, Melwin was right and we had no choice.”

  “For God
’s sake, why did you admit that you were split on your decision?”

  “I cannot give Sutherland the opportunity to claim we are operating in secret.”

  “He’s also openly speaking to his wife, challenging your gag order.”

  Bouchard’s face flushed. “I cannot keep him from speaking to his wife.”

  “And end these petitions.”

  “I’m trying to.”

  “Then do it.” She strode out of his office

  Amsterdam

  Catherine stood at the window of their suite in the Amstel Intercontinental as the three men finished eating dinner. “I expected the audience to boo when you finished.”

  Melwin was surprised. “Really? Any idea why they didn’t?”

  She turned to them. “It’s hard to tell, but I think it was Gus. He’s a commanding presence.”

  “That is the idea,” Hank said. “By the way, who do you think was the dissenting vote on the motion?”

  “Richter,” Jason replied.

  Melwin sipped at his wine. “I agree.”

  “It was Della Sante,” Catherine said. The three men looked at her in amazement.

  “What you see is a very emotional post menopausal woman. She is an idealist but underneath, she’s the most hardheaded judge on the ICC. In the end, she’ll go with the law every time.”

  The Hague

  “May I join you?” Derwent asked. Gus clicked off the TV and motioned her into his cell. “By all reports,” the psychiatrist said, “you had a very good day in court.”

  “Hank says it won’t last.”

  “Do you need to talk about it?” she asked.

  “Hank told me not to.”

  She handed him a thin narrow box. “For you,” she said. He opened it to reveal a plum-colored silk tie.

  “Thank you. It’s really nice.”

  “It will go very well with your dark-blue suit and Della Sante will like it.” She hesitated. “Have you called home lately?”

  Gus nodded. “About two hours ago. Clare had her first operation yesterday and seems to be resting comfortably.”

  Derwent considered her next words. “Do you need help sleeping tonight?”

  “I’m okay,” he replied.

  “Well, good luck tomorrow.”

  He followed her to the door and watched her walk down the corridor to the entry control box. She swiped her ID card and the gate swung open. Gus closed the door to his cell, crawled into his bunk, and turned out the light. Only then did he allow himself the luxury of a “Check six, you assholes.”

  SEVENTEEN

  The Hague

  Aly was waiting with the mandatory mug of coffee when Hank arrived at the ICC the next morning. “I had an interesting talk with Bouchard’s secretary,” she announced. Hank cocked an eyebrow. The when and where of that conversation were two things he didn’t need to know. “Marie Doorn is the clerk Bouchard fired yesterday. She and Bouchard’s secretary are good friends and Marie needs her job very badly. No one will hire her now. Alex has worked with her in the past and says we can trust her.”

  Hank thought for a moment. “Could you use an assistant?”

  “It would be helpful.” Hank picked up the phone, called the Registrar, and quickly arranged it. “Smart move,” Aly told him.

  Melwin was waiting in Hank’s office. “I expect Du Milan will present the evidence today and call her first witness.”

  “Alex, that ain’t going to happen.” He explained what he had in mind.

  Melwin stared at him in disbelief. “There are times you frighten me.”

  Gus stood in front of the mirror in the holding cell and adjusted the tie.

  “Nice tie,” Hank said.

  Catherine agreed. “It goes very well with your suit.”

  “The prison shrink gave it to me. She says Della Sante will like it.”

  “Gus,” Hank began, “we need to talk about today.”

  “The cell is bugged,” Gus replied.

  Hank set his percom on the table. “I’ve taken care of that. What you do today is critical so please listen very carefully to what Catherine says.” Gus nodded. “Good. I’ve got to make sure Melwin is ready.” Hank hurried out of the cell.

  Catherine sat beside Jason in the same seat as the day before and handed Hank his percom. “Gus is ready,” she said.

  Hank sat the percom on the defense table and Cassandra spoke in his earpiece. “It’s still there and it is on.” Hank nodded at the percom’s camera as the clerk called the court to order. “Break a leg,” she said.

  Melwin waited patiently for the opening ritual to unfold and popped to his feet the moment Bouchard asked if there were any matters before the court that had to be heard.

  Bouchard pointed his pen at the Irishman. “I will only warn you once, Monsieur Melwin. Do not make a mockery of this court’s proceedings by filing frivolous petitions. It will not be tolerated.”

  Melwin tried to look contrite. His head came up. “If it may please the court. I am obligated to bring to your attention a most disturbing fact. The defense counsel’s table has been bugged and I fear all our conversations have been monitored. I have no choice but to demand you declare a mistrial.”

  Bouchard started to come out of his seat but caught himself in time. “Demand? You demand nothing of this tribunal.”

  “Tribunal, m’lord?” Melwin asked, laying on his Irish accent. “I thought this was a court of criminal law.”

  Della Sante tapped the microphone in front of her for attention. “Signore Melwin, please forgive us for the problems of speaking in a foreign tongue. We all understand this is not a tribunal as you understand the word but a court of justice.”

  “Thank you for the clarification, your Honor. Still, the defendant’s right to a fair trial has been seriously compromised, perhaps beyond the ability of the court to correct. Therefore, I must ask for a mistrial and for Colonel, ah, excuse me, Mr. Tyler’s immediate release.”

  Richter cleared his throat. “This is a very serious charge. What evidence do you have?”

  Melwin tapped the table. “Here. The listening device is on the underside of the table.”

  “How was it discovered?” Richter asked.

  “I discovered it this morning with this, your Honor.” He held up the wand Jason used to sweep their offices.

  Bouchard found his voice. “The court is adjourned while we investigate.”

  Gus came to his feet. “Your Honor.” His voice was firm and clear, and resonated with authority. “May I speak?”

  Every head in the courtroom turned in his direction, and, for a moment, Bouchard hesitated. “Granted.”

  “May I suggest that the entire courtroom be swept to see if there are any other monitoring devices?”

  Richter cleared his throat. “An excellent suggestion. Thank you, Herr Tyler.”

  Marci Lennox stood outside the main entrance leading into the forecourt and keyed her microphone. “The court stumbled from one disaster to another today, first when Colonel Tyler’s defense team revealed that the defense table was bugged, and then when the presiding judge, Gaston Bouchard, referred to the court as a ‘tribunal.’ In an interesting twist, Colonel Tyler asked that the entire courtroom be swept for bugs. His demeanor and calm attitude left most observers with a positive impression of a man in full. This is Marci Lennox in The Hague with more to come.”

  She lowered the microphone when she saw Jason and Catherine. “Sergeant Tyler, Mrs. Sutherland, may we speak?”

  “Only off the record,” Catherine replied.

  Marci turned off her mike. “What do you make of this bombshell that Melwin dropped on the court?”

  “Too soon to tell. But it strikes at the very integrity of the court.”

  Relieu almost choked as he looked at the six microdot monitoring devices removed from the courtroom. “Monsieur Sutherland, as President of the International Criminal Court, I must apologize for this incident. Our chief of security assures me that the monitoring devices were pla
ced solely to insure security inside the courtroom.”

  “Then you agree that a mistrial and Colonel Tyler’s immediate release are the only remedies.”

  Denise paced the carpet in front of Relieu’s huge desk. “As one of the bugs was also found under my table, that would be premature.”

  “So it’s okay as long as we’re dealing with an equal opportunity bugger?” Hank asked. “For the record, the microdots were manufactured by the French.”

  “Immaterial,” Denise snapped. “Besides, your case was no more compromised than mine.”

  “So let’s start over, just to be sure. And in the meantime, release Colonel Tyler.”

  “Those decisions fall to Justice Bouchard,” Relieu said, passing the buck.

  Denise curled up on the sofa in her small but very elegant and modern apartment and attacked a large bowl of ice cream. “I love the flavor you Americans call French Vanilla,” she told Natividad Gomez.

  Natividad nibbled at her ice cream in a much more ladylike way. “I consider myself more Mexican than American.”

  Denise studied Natividad, approving of what she saw. “That thought will be very helpful when you are on the stand.”

  “When will I be called?”

  “It could be as early as next week. Do you want to go over your testimony again?” Natividad’s expression indicated she did. “Sutherland will probably start by asking if you are a spy in the pay of a foreign country.” Denise’s words pounded at Natividad but she reiterated the answer they had carefully rehearsed. They worked at it for another hour before Denise called it a night and sent Natividad back to her suite in the Des Indes, the palace that had been converted to a luxury hotel.

  Denise checked the refrigerator and dished out the last of the ice cream. She liked the soft-spoken and graceful Natividad. Slowly, she paced her apartment, wondering what she was going to do with what remained of Natividad once Hank destroyed her on the stand.