Ghost Watch (59 page)

The bailiff, in this instance an Air Force lieutenant colonel, closed the doors and walked to the front of the room, and everyone settled down, the talk dying to a low murmur and then ceasing altogether. ‘All rise,’ he said and everyone stood.

The side door opened and Colonel Fink came in, still short and bath plug-like, and climbed up on his stage to take his seat in front of the Air Force seal hanging on the paneled wall behind him. One colonel, one lite colonel and seven majors – more males than females – came in. They all took the seats behind the mahogany desk panels, each wearing a stern Mount Rushmore-like face.

Fink cleared his throat, shuffed a stack of loose papers in front of him and held a black fountain pen poised above them. Without looking up, he read through the usual script, outlining the defendant’s rights to counsel, followed by a series of oaths that counsels had to take, followed by the charges I was facing, followed by my plea – which was not guilty – followed by instructions to the court outlining, for example, what reasonable doubt meant. Then followed challenges – whether either my counsels or the trial counsel believed there might be any bias or competing interests amongst the members of the court that could leave justice short changed. The script Fink went through was forty pages or more in length. There were no challenges, the right people said ‘yes, sir,’ and ‘no, sir,’ when they were supposed to, including me. Eventually, Colonel Fink gave the stack of papers in front of him a big tick, shuffed them into order, then called on Latham to outline the United States’ case against me.

‘Yes, your Honor,’ said Latham. He got up, buttoned his coat, and walked to the dais in the center of the room with his cheat notes. He then read through the charges, repeating much of what Fink had already said, the court reporter putting it all down again. There was fdgeting from the bleachers. This was a long way from a Grisham novel.

‘Excellent,’ said Fink when Latham had concluded, adding another famboyant tick. I wondered if maybe the guy was going to introduce himself to the audience and take a bow. The courts martial I’d attended in the past hadn’t been in the least theatrical. Fink was enjoying himself.

‘I note that several members of the media have taken up the commander’s offer to attend this trial and are in the room today, this case having attracted more than its fair share of public attention,’ he said. ‘But I would remind you that you are here at the pleasure of the United States Air Force. This is a military court martial, and you are on a military base and you must conduct yourselves accordingly or your privileges here will be withdrawn.’ Fink took his stare around the courtroom. ‘While we’re on the subject, if I see tomorrow the scenes I witnessed out front of this building this morning, I will end public access to these proceedings and you will have to satisfy the cravings of your listeners, readers, watchers and bloggers with an Air Force-approved press release the morning after the previous day’s hearings. Do I make myself clear?’

I heard a pin drop.

‘Then, without further ado, gentlemen,’ he continued, turning his gaze on Latham. ‘If you please, Counselor . . .’

Latham stood, buttoned his coat, went to the dias and recalled the scene at Camp Come Together, Cyangugu. As far as I could tell, he had it pretty much squared away with the facts. From the way it was recounted, I’d have found me guilty.

Then it was Cheung’s turn. He expanded on my not-guilty plea, told the court that I was innocent of the main assault charge, that I was just going my duty, and that there were witness who would back me up.

Not even I was convinced.

Fink then invited Latham to call his first witness. A procession of US personnel who had been present at Cyangugu took the stand and recounted the events of the afternoon that had led to me sitting in this courtroom. The two MPs who had pulled me off Lockhart began the parade, starting with the big redheaded Army sergeant with the badly busted-up nose. They all told identical stories, well drilled. Cheung had no questions for any of them and neither did the court board members, who were within their right to ask them if testimony had been unclear.

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 movement, 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.’