After the seventh witness went over exactly the same ground as the six before him, Fink interrupted the show. ‘Counselor,’ he asked Latham. ‘How many more broken records do you intend playing the court?’
‘If it pleases the court, sir, thirteen more,’ said Latham, buttoning his coat as he stood.
‘Any of them have anything fresh to add?’
‘Only one, sir. The prosecution’s case rests on consistency. I have twenty witnesses who can swear that the events that took place at Cyan-gugu happened as we say it happened, and not the way the accused and his witnesses will claim.’
‘Is it necessary to get every one of those witnesses in the box, Major?’
‘What does the court president say?’ Fink said, motioning at the colonel, who then conferred with his board members.
‘We don’t think there’s a need, your Honor,’ said the colonel.
‘And the defense sees no need to cross-examine?’
Cheung stood, buttoning his coat. ‘No, your Honor, not at this time.’ He then unbuttoned it, and sat.
‘Very well, then, Counselor,’ he said, waving at Latham. ‘I think we get the picture. No need to gild the lily.’
‘Sir,’ said Latham.
‘Then call the witness who can add to our understanding rather than our desire to take a nap.’
Arlen caught my eye and signed ‘okay’ at me.
‘I call Mr Beauford Lockhart to the stand,’ the prosecutor announced.
‘Now it starts,’ Cheung whispered under his breath.
‘Yeah, this is when I jump over the table and finish what I should have finished back in Rwanda.’
‘Sit still, don’t say a word,’ Cheung said in a voice so low I could barely hear him.
Lockhart entered, wearing an expensive navy blue suit and red silk tie, the black locks of his hair glistening with product. I could smell his cologne, the same smell I remembered from Cyangugu, Twenny’s ‘Guilty’. I could have smirked at the irony, only I was all smirked out. The bailiff accompanied him to the stand. He looked at me and smiled, enjoying the moment. The muscle fbers in my legs twitched. I felt Cheung’s hand on my forearm.
‘So, Mr Lockhart, would you tell the court what you do?’ said Latham.
What followed was five minutes of gratuitous turd polishing – about how, through Kornfak & Greene, he’d helped deliver peace to a troubled region, working with indigenous populations to bring about a brighter future for communities that had been ravaged by war and so forth. Latham then asked whether we’d had any contact prior to the incident between us, and Lockhart told the court that we had met during Twenny Fo and Leila’s concert. Latham then guided the witness to the events being examined. The guy had a perfectly reasonable account of my unreasonable – as he saw them – actions. At the end of this, Latham turned to Cheung and said, ‘Your witness.’
Cheung buttoned his coat, stood, said, ‘No questions,’ unbuttoned his coat and sat.
‘What?’ I whispered.
Both Macri and Cheung shot me a look that said, ‘Quiet!’
‘The prosecution rests, your Honor,’ said Latham.
Fink glanced at his watch. ‘Is it that time already? We’ll recess for an hour for lunch. See you all back here at one. Perhaps we can get all this wrapped up in the afternoon session.’ He directed this comment at Cheung, raising a bushy eyebrow at him.
I wasn’t sure I appreciated the bench’s keenness to get this over and done with.
Over a toasted ham and cheese sandwich, I asked Cheung what he was doing. I’d been in enough trials to know that I was sunk.
‘Laying the foundation,’ he said.
I asked what foundation. He told me to have another sandwich, but I’d lost my appetite.
Back in the courtroom, Fink asked Cheung to call his first witness.
‘Yes, sir,’ said Cheung as he stood, buttoning his coat. ‘I call Captain Duke Ryder to the stand.’
The word went out and Ryder was brought forth. He satisfied the usual requirements oathwise and Cheung asked him to remember the day we arrived back at the camp.
And then a ruckus outside the court halted proceedings. The doors swung open and in walked Twenny, Leila, Ayesha, and Boink, towering over them, a bowler hat in his hand, gold bling in those giant earlobes of his. The public twittered and hushed, and looked around and craned their necks to get a better look at the celebrities. Twenny wore a purple suit. Leila wore a snakeskin dress cut high above the knee and as tight as a . . . well, as a snakeskin. I took an educated guess about where she’d acquired it. Ayesha wore a purple stretch cotton dress and was obviously pregnant. She looked good. All four of them did. Ayesha urged everyone to squeeze up and room was made for them at the end of the row.
Fink tapped his benchtop a couple of times with the point of his pen – something I’d never seen a military judge do. The guy was pissed. ‘Order!’ he shouted. ‘No one arrives flashionably late to my courtroom. I don’t care how famous you are. Are we clear?’
I saw Twenny raise his hand, fingers spread wide in a gesture of apology, and this appeared to appease the judge.
With an imperious wave, Fink said to Cheung, ‘Continue.’
‘Your own words, Captain,’ Cheung reminded Ryder.
‘We’d been eight days in the rainforest. We were all a little sick – not enough food, some bad water. Some of the PSOs had minor wounds caused by engagements with elements from the—’
‘Objection,’ said Latham. ‘What happened before the incident at Cyangugu has been deemed beyond the court’s purview.’
‘Sustained,’ said Fink. He turned to the witness. ‘This court martial is solely interested in the charges and specifications established, Captain Ryder. And I remind you about this too, Counselor. I don’t want to hear about what you may consider to be justifcation. The court wants to know this: did Major Cooper assault a Department of Defense contractor or not? Simple. Establish that one way or the other and we can all go home.’
Or straight to Leavenworth, if you happened to be me.
‘Yes, sir,’ said Ryder.
Cheung changed tack and took the straight-in approach. ‘Did Agent Cooper assault the defense contractor named Beau Lockhart?’
‘No, sir.’
‘And what makes you say that, when the prosecution has paraded a large number of witnesses in front of the court who’ve assured us that he did?’
‘Because Agent Cooper was merely trying to arrest the contractor and he was resisting.’
‘And why was he trying to arrest the contractor?’
‘Objection! Irrelevant and immaterial,’ Latham said, standing and buttoning his coat. He unbuttoned his coat and sat.
‘Sustained,’ said Fink.
‘Judge, I am attempting to establish that an assault never took place. Cooper merely used justifable force in the pursuit of his duty. I understand that the court has no desire to know why Cooper was trying to arrest the contractor, but the fact remains that that’s what he was trying to do, and is therefore innocent of the charges against him.’
‘As Major Latham correctly states, there were no charges against the assaulted party. I don’t believe any facts – facts supportive of your point of view, at least – have been established. The objection remains sustained. Try a different way.’
Cheung looked up from his notes. ‘Captain Ryder, you’re with OSI. You’re a special agent – police.’
‘Yes, sir,’ he said.
‘As a policeman, you keep a notebook?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Do you have here the notebook you used on that day?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Please go to the notes you made on the incident over which the accused stands charged.’
Ryder flipped through the book.
‘Please read your notes to the court.’
‘Arrived Camp. Cooper sees Lockhart. Goes to him, draws gun. Cooper says, “You’re under arrest.” Lockhart moves. Cooper restricts further mov
ement, hits Lockhart with gun. Lockhart says, “Damn, Cooper. You still alive, motherfucker?” Sergeant Cassidy says, “Cooper! C’mon!” Lockhart attempts to evade capture and Lockhart reaches for his side-arm.’
‘Objection,’ said Latham, leaping to his feet, forgetting about buttoning his coat. ‘I have twenty witnesses who can testify that the victim of Cooper’s senseless attack never reached for his side-arm.’
‘Your Honor,’ said Cheung. ‘I have a number of witness who will state otherwise. We’re going to end up in one of those “he says she says” dead ends.’
‘Your Honor,’ Latham countered, ‘the testimony from his witnesses is surely cancelled out by the prosecution’s witnesses on this point.’
‘But, sir,’ said Cheung, ‘the issue of Lockhart reaching for his weapon underpins the accused’s innocence.’
‘The objection is sustained,’ said Fink. ‘Can’t help you on this point, Counselor. Got anything else?’
I hoped like hell that we did but from the looks of Cheung – frowning, hands on hips, glaring at the floor – probably not.
My attorney looked up. ‘Continue from your notes, please, Captain,’ he told Ryder.
Ryder read from his notebook. ‘Cooper strikes him again. Lockhart further resists arrest. Rwandan and American security forces arrive, detain Cooper.’
‘Thank you, Captain,’ said Cheung. ‘So, Cooper was merely trying to detain the contractor; that is, perform his duty.’
‘Yes.’
‘Do you know why he was attempting to do that?’
‘He thought Lockhart was dangerous.’
‘Did you agree with that judgment, Captain?’
‘Yes, sir, I did.’
‘Did the words, “Damn, Cooper. You still alive, expletive deleted?” have something to do with that belief?’
I glanced over at Latham. He was itching to jump to his feet.
‘Yes, sir. I believe so.’
‘Is that notebook dated and signed by you?’
‘Yes, it is.’
‘Do you need it?’
‘No, sir, I have no further use for it.’
‘If it please the court,’ said Cheung, ‘I’d like to enter the captain’s notebook as defense exhibit A.’
The bailiff stepped forward, took the notebook from Ryder and delivered it to the bench. Fink opened it, checked the entries, then handed it back to the sergeant, who took it to the colonel to flip through and pass on to the other board members.
‘Your witness,’ Cheung said to Latham and Blinkenspiel before he sat down.
Latham buttoned his coat. ‘Did you keep this diary the entire time you were in-country, Captain?’ he asked, standing up behind his bench.
‘No, sir.’
‘When did you acquire it?’
‘Around an hour after we arrived back at the camp.’
‘Where did you get it?’
‘From the infirmary.’
‘Someone in the hospital gave it to you to record your recollection of the, er, incident?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘So the notes you just read out to the court were made at least an hour after the fact?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘I also have some notes,’ Latham said, holding up a couple of loose sheets of paper. ‘This is the medical record of your treatment at the Camp Come Together medical center.’ He waved the sheets in the air above his head. ‘They treated you for cuts, abrasions, mild exposure, mild dehydration . . . and concussion.’
‘I was over the concussion by then,’ said Ryder.
‘Not according to this report. It says here that your brain was signif-cantly bruised. It’s a wonder that you could remember anything, given your state, let alone details of events and conversations that occurred more than an hour before you were able to write them down, don’t you think?’
Ryder looked like someone was about to step forward and offer him a blindfold and a cigarette.
‘Well, Captain?’ said Latham.
Ryder glanced at the judge. There was no refuge there.
‘Answer the question, Captain,’ Fink directed him.
‘What was the question, sir?’ Ryder asked.
A ripple of laughter filled the spectator benches.
Latham unbuttoned his coat. ‘I think he just has, your Honor. Your witness.’ He sat and gave Captain Pencilskirt a winning grin, which she returned. Someone was going to get lucky tonight; maybe someone in the Leavenworth shower block.
‘Any further questions?’ Fink asked the court, addressing the court president.
No one had any, except me. ‘That the best we got?’ I whispered to Macri as Ryder left the stand.
Macri shushed me, annoyed by my lack of confdence, as Cheung stood and called Sergeant Cassidy to the stand. Cassidy, followed by Rutherford, backed Ryder’s account, including the fact that Lockhart went for his gun. This horse was well and truly fogged, but then he called West and extracted yet another laboriously detailed account of the same few minutes in the mud of Cyangugu that had everyone, including Fink, yawning. Latham declined to cross any of these witnesses, clearly believing that he’d discredited our account at its heart with the cross-examination of Ryder, the only person who had kept a record of the incident. I found myself wishing that I were Latham’s client rather than Cheung’s.
‘It’s four pm,’ said Fink. ‘Before I decide whether to break for a short recess, any more witnesses, Counselor?’ he asked Cheung.
‘Just one, sir,’ said Cheung.
Fink sat back and gestured with his hand for Cheung to get on with it.
‘I recall Beau Lockhart to the stand.’
The bailiff went off to fetch him. The asshole swaggered in a dozen seconds later, and made his way to the witness box. He took his seat and turned to face the gallery and, suddenly, Leila screamed. Or maybe it was a shriek. Whatever, it was loud and piercing and it belonged in the front seat of a rollercoaster. The courtroom went nuts. My former principal stood and pointed at Lockhart in the witness chair, her voice breaking in her throat. ‘It’s him, him . . .!’
‘Silence,’ Fink boomed. ‘Remove this woman from the court,’ he demanded, galvanizing the bailiff into action.
‘It’s him. I can show you,’ said Leila, holding a gold iPhone high above her head. ‘I have photos. It’s him.’
I recognized that phone.
Fink hammered his pen on the edge of his bench like he was doing a drum solo. ‘Get that phone!’ he commanded, pointing at the bailiff. ‘And both counselors – in my chambers. Now!’
‘What’s going on?’ I asked Macri.
‘I don’t know,’ he said, but the curl of his lips told me something different.
I glanced over in Arlen’s direction. A couple of security police were on the doors. Lockhart was looking increasingly like a trapped animal, unsure whether he should, or even could, get up from the chair. He made the decision to stay put. Everyone in the courtroom was standing, talking, yelling.
The bailiff reappeared and took the members of the board and the court’s president to the judge’s chambers.
A couple of minutes later, Fink, purple-faced, returned with Cheung and Latham and the members of the board. He took his pen and attempted to tap some silence into the gallery. It wasn’t working. ‘Bailiff and security forces! Detain this man.’ He pointed to Beau Lockhart.
Bedlam reigned. People stood and shouted at each other while Lockhart was surrounded. The court had no jurisdiction over the DoD contractor, but the judge could detain him for the folks at the Federal Bureau of Investigation. I wondered what had happened behind closed doors.
Fink roared, ‘Silence!’ When he got some, he pointed at me and said, ‘You! Were you aware of the existence of this phone?’
‘Yes, sir,’ I said. I had seen Leila trying to raise a signal on it when we first came down in the jungle.
‘Were you aware that she was using it to keep a photographic diary while in the Congo?’
‘No,
sir, though I was aware that the phone’s owner held the Air Force responsible for the situation we found ourselves in.’
‘I see,’ said Fink, his nostrils faring. He glared at Cheung. ‘You and I know what happened here today, Counselor. Pull a stunt like this in my courtroom again and I will personally see to it that you’re discharged and disbarred.’
Cheung took the blast without acknowledgment, which was wise, and said, ‘Your Honor, the defense moves for the dismissal of all charges.’
Fink’s nostrils fared grandly. He went into a huddle with the board members as the bailiff and security police hustled Lockhart from the room. After two solid minutes of discussion with his fellow officers. Fink and the members of the court resumed their seats. Fink then did that thing with his pen on the edge of his bench until everyone stopped talking.
When he could make himself heard, he said, ‘Court President, how do you find the defendant?’
The colonel stood. ‘We find the defendant not guilty of offenses punishable by court-martial, but recommend that he be remanded to his commanding officer for Article 15 non-judicial proceedings.’
‘Thank you, Colonel,’ said Fink. The judge turned to me and said, ‘Will the defendant rise?’
I stood and buttoned my coat.
‘Major Vincent Cooper. The charges are dismissed.’ Fink then threw his pen into an empty trash bin at his feet, slipped off his seat and stomped out.
Epilogue
‘What was on the iPhone?’ I asked Cheung as he and Macri drove me back to my box.
‘Bad shit that’ll give me nightmares,’ he said.
‘Take a number. What was on it?’
‘There were photos of you standing over a man lying on the ground with your service pistol. It looks as if you’ve just shot him. The French pilot you believe was part of the ransom attempt is with you.’
I remembered the moment. Now that I thought about it, I also recalled glancing up and seeing Leila with her cell phone in her hand. At the time, I had thought she’d turned it on to see if she could raise a signal.
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