The judge raised his voice. “General Beckwith, I can order you to answer, and if you refuse, you can be held in contempt of this court and you can be held in the post stockade until you agree to come back to this court and answer questions as required by law. Sit down, please, General.”
Beckwith turned and looked at the judge. It was evident to everyone in the courtroom that he meant business. He sat down.
Freeman said to Kara: “You may proceed, Major Guidry.”
“General Beckwith, the bill for your cellular phone reflects the fact that you received a cell phone call in your staff car on the night Sheila Worthy was killed. The call came from Lieutenant Worthy. We know that because her number is listed as the originating caller. Can you tell us what you were doing talking to Lieutenant Worthy on the night that she was murdered, General?”
“I never received such a call. I never talked to Lieutenant Worthy that night.”
“Perhaps you have forgotten, General. Sheila called the secure switchboard, and they patched the call through to your phone. She knew exactly who she was calling, and I can show from her phone bills during previous months that she called your staff car using that method many times.”
“Lieutenant Worthy called my staff car on numerous occasions. She worked in my headquarters, and I received calls from my headquarters through the secure switchboard as a matter of security policy. I am certain that Lieutenant Worthy called my staff car on official business on other occasions, but I received no such call from her the night she died.”
“Look at your bill, sir. That was the only cell phone call you received the whole night. It’s right there on paper. Now, sir, can you tell us what you and Lieutenant Worthy talked about?”
Beckwith looked over at Freeman. “Can she do this?”
“It is a legitimate question, sir. The evidence shows the deceased called your staff car on the night she died. The defense has a right to an answer.”
Beckwith glared at her. “I am telling you under oath that I never talked to Lieutenant Worthy. I left the child-care center, and I drove straight home. I didn’t get back in my staff car until I received a call at home that there had been a fatal accident on the post.”
“At that point you got up and put on your uniform and drove to the hospital. Isn’t that right? I remember seeing you at the hospital late that night.”
“That’s correct.”
“So you went straight to bed after you drove home from the child-care center?”
“Yes.”
“And that is the sum and substance of your testimony regarding your whereabouts on the night of Sheila Worthy’s murder, and you swear this under oath, sir?”
“You’re damn right I do.”
Kara turned to Colonel Freeman. “Sir, the defense is finished with this witness.”
Freeman glanced over at Sanders. “No questions, Your Honor.”
“The witness is dismissed.”
“Your Honor, the defense requests a brief recess.”
“Granted. The court-martial will resume in thirty minutes.” Freeman banged his gavel, and reporters ran for the exits, frantically dialing cell phones and scribbling in their notebooks.
In the interview room, Kara was hastily scrambling through her notes when the MP’s walked in with Randy. She looked up. “Randy, this is important. The night of Sheila’s murder, what time was it when you left the officers club?”
“At nine-thirty. I remember that the General said I should arrange it—”
“Not Beckwith, Randy. You. After he was gone, you went back into the club, didn’t you?”
“Yes. General Beckwith told me he wanted me to make certain that his wife got home okay.”
“And did you?”
“She was gone. She had already left.”
“Wait a minute. I thought you told me that you had met her at the General’s quarters that night and driven her to the club yourself.”
“I met her at the General’s quarters, but she drove to the club herself.”
“So she drove herself home.”
“I would imagine so.”
Kara snapped shut her briefcase and stood up to leave. “I’ve got to arrange for a witness, Randy. I’ll meet you back in court.”
Chapter Forty-two
“The defense calls Mrs. Virginia Bennett.”
Sanders jumped up. “Your Honor, we’re going to object to the swearing of this witness. She does not appear on the defense witness list.”
Freeman signaled both lawyers to approach the bench. Whispering, he asked Kara: “Major Sanders has a point, Counselor. The name Virginia Bennett does not appear on your list of witnesses.”
“Sir, I interviewed the witness only this morning. The interview became necessary because of new information developed in the course of the trial. I was unaware until then that she would be necessary to my case.”
“What is the relevancy of her testimony?”
“Sir, I am pursuing the matter of Sheila Worthy’s final phone call to General Beckwith’s staff car. I believe General Beckwith when he says that he didn’t receive that phone call, and Mrs. Bennett can help establish that fact.”
“That doesn’t seem helpful to your case at all, Major,” said Freeman.
“Your Honor, I believe that the person with whom Sheila spoke that night is the person who killed her.”
Sanders whispered: “She spoke to the defendant, Your Honor.”
“That will be for you to establish, if you think you can, Howard,” Kara whispered.
“I still fail to see the relevancy of her testimony, Major Guidry,” said Freeman.
“Your Honor, the defense has wide latitude in calling witnesses. Mrs. Bennett will be helpful to my case in establishing who Sheila Worthy spoke to at ten forty-two, and she has relevant information concerning the knives found in the defendant’s apartment.”
“All right. I’ll allow her testimony, but this is the last time I’ll allow you to call a witness the prosecution has not had an opportunity to question. Understood?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
Mrs. Bennett took the stand and was sworn in as a witness. Kara approached the podium and neatly laid a sheet of notes before her.
“Mrs. Bennett, what is the job you hold at Fort Benning?”
“I am the director of the post child-care center and thrift shop.”
“Recently, there was a storm that caused a great deal of damage to the center. Do you remember that night?”
“Yes, I do. Vividly. It blew the roof from the back of the center.”
“It was also the night that Sheila Worthy was murdered. Did you know that?”
“Yes, I did.”
“General Beckwith visited the center that night, didn’t he?”
“Yes, he did.”
“What time did General Beckwith arrive at the child-care center?”
“Well, let me see. The storm hit us at nine-thirty, and he came not long thereafter. I’d say about nine forty-five.”
“And he stayed about a half hour, correct?”
“He left at ten-twenty.”
“Ten-twenty exactly, Mrs. Bennett? This is important.”
“Yes, it was ten-twenty exactly. I remember because he left just as the fire department cut the power to the center, and that stopped the electric clock on the wall. That clock read ten-twenty for the next two days, until they turned the power back on.”
Kara walked over to the evidence table and picked up the antler-handled knife. She handed it to Mrs. Bennett. “Mrs. Bennett, I want you to take your time and look at this knife very carefully. Have you ever seen it before?”
She studied the knife for a moment. “Yes. I took this knife on consignment at our thrift shop.”
“You took it on consignment? Can you explain that for the court?”
“The wife of a young sergeant brought the knife in. It had belonged to her family, in Germany. They needed money, so they decided to sell the knife. By taking it on consignment, w
e agreed to sell the knife through our thrift shop, and we would keep ten percent of the proceeds.”
“Did you sell the knife, Mrs. Bennett?”
“No, we didn’t.”
“Can you tell the court why not?”
“It was reported missing, along with several other knives we had for sale.”
Kara pointed at the evidence table. “Do you see any of the other knives that were missing from your thrift shop, Mrs. Bennett? You may stand and walk over and examine them closely.”
Mrs. Bennett walked to the evidence table and examined the knives. She pointed at three of them. “These knives disappeared from our stock too.”
“So out of these six knives, four of them came from your thrift shop?”
“Yes, that is correct.”
Kara turned to Major Sanders. “Your witness.”
“Do you have any idea who took the knives, Mrs. Bennett?” Sanders asked.
“No, sir, I do not.”
“Have you ever seen the defendant in this case?”
Mrs. Bennett looked over at Randy. “No, I have not.”
“No further questions.”
Freeman turned to Mrs. Bennett. “You may step down.”
Kara stood. “Your Honor, the defense calls Mrs. William Beckwith.”
Sanders stood. “Permission to approach, Your Honor.”
Freeman signaled both lawyers to the bench. “What’s on your mind, Counselor?”
“Sir, I’m going to object to this witness too. She’s on the list, but counsel for the defense informed us that she would be called as a character witness, and it’s obvious that counsel is going to question the witness on more than the defendant’s character.”
Freeman looked at Kara over his half glasses. “Well?”
“Your Honor, I am under no obligation under law to inform the prosecution about my intentions regarding the witness. I answered counsel’s question about my purpose in calling Mrs. Beckwith only as a courtesy. My answer that she was a character witness does not bind me as to the depth or breadth of the questions I have for the witness.”
“My objection stands, Your Honor,” said Sanders. “This is another defense trick. She wants to cloud the issues in this case. She is seeking to besmirch the commanding general and his wife in an attempt to discredit the command that brought charges against the defendant.”
“Is that what you’re doing, Counselor?” Freeman asked Kara.
“No, Your Honor. The prosecution is objecting to this witness because its case is predicated on the linkage between the two murders. They have made a case that the defendant was obsessed with both of these young women, and his obsession drove him to kill not one but both of them. They’re afraid if I cast doubt on the defendant’s guilt in the murder of Sheila Worthy, the same doubt will carry over and destroy their case in the murder of Captain Love. That is exactly what I am seeking to do, which is entirely consistent with my duties as counsel for the defense.”
“I’m going to allow the witness, Major Sanders. Take your seats.”
Mrs. Beckwith was summoned from the hall and walked into the court and took the stand and was sworn in. As Kara walked to the podium, she saw General Beckwith come into the court through the side door and sit in the back.
“Mrs. Beckwith, will you please state your full name and occupation for the record?”
Her voice was steady and quite loud. “I am Mrs. William T. Beckwith, and I am the wife of the commanding general of the Third Army.”
“Mrs. Beckwith, we have spoken previously, have we not?”
“Yes.”
“When was that, ma’am?”
“I’m not certain, exactly. Perhaps two months ago.”
“I came to your home at your invitation, did I not?”
“Yes.”
“Will you recount for the court the substance of our conversation that day, Mrs. Beckwith?”
“I’m not sure I remember exactly what we talked about, Major Guidry. It was some time ago.”
“Allow me to refresh your memory, then. You told me that on the night of Sheila Worthy’s murder, General Beckwith had been at the child-care center, examining the damage they suffered in the storm, and that he drove straight home from there. Do you remember telling me that?”
“Yes, I do.”
“All right, then, let me ask you this. Do you recall what time you told me General Beckwith returned home that night from the child-care center?”
“Yes, I do. It was ten p.m.”
“We have just heard testimony from Mrs. Virginia Bennett, who runs the child-care center, that your husband left her center at ten-twenty that night. She remembered the time exactly, because his departure coincided with the power being cut at the child-care center, stopping an electric clock at the exact moment General Beckwith left. I just drove from the child-care center to your quarters. It took me exactly six minutes in midday traffic. At night, with very little traffic, I would estimate that you could easily drive that distance in six minutes. That means your husband was at home at ten twenty-six. Can you account for this discrepancy, Mrs. Beckwith?”
“I didn’t look at the time. I was estimating what time he came home.”
“After hearing about Mrs. Bennett’s testimony, would you agree that your husband came home later than the time you told me before?”
“He told me himself that he drove straight home from the child-care center. If Mrs. Bennett is positive about when he left the center, he would have been there by ten twenty-six. I’ll accept that.”
Kara continued calmly: “All right, Mrs. Beckwith, let’s go over the things we know for certain about that night. Let’s start with Sheila’s time of death. The Fort Benning medical examiner, Captain Evans, has testified that she could have died anytime between nine o’clock and eleven-fifty, when she was dragged from the water and found to be dead. But we have information that gives us new insight as to her time of death. We know that Sheila Worthy was alive at ten forty-two that night, because we have her cellular telephone record, and that record reflects that she made a call from her car at that time. And we know that the last person Sheila Worthy called before she died was your husband. We know this because the cellular telephone bill for his staff car reflects that the call Sheila Worthy placed was answered. We know that General Beckwith didn’t answer the cell phone in his staff car, because both you and General Beckwith have testified that he was at home at ten twenty-six, and General Beckwith has testified that he didn’t get back into his staff car until after midnight. That means we have a problem, Mrs. Beckwith. Do you know what the problem is?”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“The problem we have is, who answered Sheila Worthy’s call in General Beckwith’s staff car at ten forty-two? Do you have any idea who that might have been?”
Mrs. Beckwith pointed her right forefinger at Randy. “It was him. He had the keys to the staff car. He stole the car and drove out there and killed her.”
Kara took her time. She looked down at her notes for a moment, then walked around and leaned on the podium with one elbow. “That’s just it, Mrs. Beckwith. Another thing we know for certain is that the defendant could not have been the person who answered the cell phone in General Beckwith’s staff car, because the prosecution called a disinterested witness, a gas station attendant, who testified that he filled up Captain Taylor’s car with gas at ten forty-five that night at a station downtown. And he produced for the court a credit card receipt with a date and time stamp on it that proves this fact.” She handed the credit receipt to Mrs. Beckwith, who stared at it blankly.
“It takes more than three minutes to fill up a car and take a charge card from a customer and run it through the system and get a signature from the driver, Mrs. Beckwith. I know, because I drove down to the Union 76 and tried it myself. It took me seven minutes, and I put in only a half tank of gas, eight gallons. Captain Taylor’s car was nearly on empty. He put nineteen gallons in his car. That means Ca
ptain Taylor was sitting in his car at the Union 76 at ten forty-two, Mrs. Beckwith. There is no way he could have been answering the phone in your husband’s staff car and been more than ten miles away downtown at a gas station in his own car at the same time. It just isn’t possible.”
Mrs. Beckwith looked up from the credit receipt. Her eyes were hooded with hate as they followed Kara’s path back to the podium.
“So you see what I mean about the problem we have, Mrs. Beckwith? We can account for Sheila Worthy at ten forty-two. She was in her car, dialing the number for your husband’s staff car on her cell phone. We can account for the defendant. He was getting his car filled with gas at a Union 76 station downtown. We can account for General Beckwith. He has testified that he was at home, in the commanding general’s quarters at Fort Benning. The only person we can’t account for at ten forty-two is you, Mrs. Beckwith.” Kara paused, and looked directly at her. “Where were you at ten forty-two, Mrs. Beckwith?”
“I was at home in bed.”
“Are you certain about that, Mrs. Beckwith? We have already established that you didn’t really know what time it was when your husband got home. Let me ask you this: when you drove up to the house, did you see his staff car parked in the driveway?”
“Yes. I remember now. His staff car was there.”
“So if General Beckwith was home by ten twenty-six, that means you must have arrived sometime after that, correct?”
“Yes.”
“And what you’re telling us is that you probably arrived sometime soon after he did, and your testimony is that you were at home in bed by ten forty-two.”
“Yes, that is correct.”
“So if I called your husband back to the stand, and I asked him if he could verify that you were at home in bed at ten forty-two, he could do that?”
“Of course he could.”
“Well, Mrs. Beckwith, that presents us with a new problem. Do you remember what you told me that morning a couple of months ago? You told me that you and General Beckwith sleep in separate bedrooms, and have done so for years.” She paused, looking the witness straight in the eye. She let her words sink in, and then she continued. “Mrs. Beckwith, you have testified that your husband could verify that you were at home in bed at ten forty-two on the night Sheila Worthy was murdered, when plainly he could not. That leaves us with the problem of where you were at ten forty-two, ma’am. Do you know what I think? I think you were driving your husband’s staff car, and I think you are the one who answered Sheila Worthy’s cellular telephone call.”
Heart of War Page 38
