Victoria Cross: United Federation Attorney (Nick Walker, U.F. Marshal Book 9)

by John Bowers

“About what?”

  “I’m wondering if we should have given the Frie case to Godney.”

  Fraites felt his pulse quicken slightly and leaned forward in anticipation. What could Gabel possibly be talking about?

  “I gave her that case on your recommendation, Andy. What’s your concern?”

  Gabel shook his head.

  “I’m not quite sure, but she seems to be acting weird. The case is a no-brainer, but she isn’t treating it that way.”

  “What is she doing?”

  “Well…it looks to me like she’s investigating the wrong case. Twelve years ago, I prosecuted Frie on the smuggling charge and convicted him. But Vic seems to be investigating that case instead of this one.”

  Fraites remained silent. Gabel continued.

  “Dillon noticed it, too. He spoke to me about it. Vic has him digging up financials on the cargo company that Frie worked for before his first trial. And not just the company, but the owners as well.”

  “Why would she want those?”

  “I have no idea! That’s why I’m concerned. She also wanted Dillon to locate the CTP cops who assisted the original arrest, and I can’t imagine why.”

  “Did you ask her?”

  “Dillon did. She basically told him to fuck off—”

  “She did? That doesn’t sound like her.”

  “Not in so many words, but that was the gist of it. And that’s not all—on Saturday she and I toured the crime scene where Randal was killed. We talked to his wife and Vic was asking her about ‘other enemies’ that her husband might have had. It’s almost like she doesn’t trust the evidence we’ve handed her and wants to investigate the case on her own.

  “After we left, I asked her about it and she told me pretty much the same thing she told Dillon. Just leave her alone and let her do her job.”

  Fraites shrugged.

  “Well, okay then. I know she’s a very thorough prosecutor and likes to cover all her bases. Maybe she just wants to fully understand the criminal so she can do her job better.”

  “I hope that’s all it is, but there are plenty of witnesses she needs to talk to in the murder case before Monday. From where I sit, it looks like she’s wasting time on matters that aren’t pertinent to the current charges.”

  Gabel laid a hand flat on the desktop.

  “What I don’t want is for her to fuck this up and let Frie walk free. That sonofabitch threatened to murder Randal twelve years ago, and when he got paroled, he followed through. I want his hide flying from the flagpole and right now I’m not sure she’s getting the job done.”

  Fraites stared at him a moment.

  “Do you want the case yourself? I can pull her off it.”

  “No. I don’t have the stamina anymore. That’s why I stepped down from your job. My ticker has had its heyday and it’s done, so I have to keep a low profile.”

  “You want second chair, then?”

  “I don’t think so. I just want her to do her usual magic and get this guy convicted. She’s the best I’ve ever seen and I know she can do it, but I’m not feeling warm and fuzzy about it right now. Frankly, she’s scaring me.”

  Fraites nodded. “I can understand that. I’m glad you let me in on this. I’ll keep an eye out and see how things progress. If I have to, I’ll tug on her leash and keep her on the narrow path.”

  Gabel smiled.

  “I was hoping you’d say that. Thanks.”

  “Not a problem. Was there anything else?”

  “No, that was it. Except…I heard a good one the other day that you might appreciate.”

  “Yeah?” Fraites leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head. “What was that?”

  “This guy goes to a dance. He’s pretty shy around the girls, but he really wants to dance, and finally he spots a girl sitting on the side with a blanket over her lap. She doesn’t look too threatening, so he walks up and asks if she wants to dance…”

  Chapter 19

  71st Floor, Federation Building – Lucaston, Alpha Centauri 2

  When court resumed at one-thirty, Victoria Cross was seated at the prosecution table. Nancy Swift offered to move over to make room, but Victoria told her to stay put.

  “I won’t be here all afternoon. Stay where you are.”

  First up for the afternoon was Drusilla Downing. She sat prim and unperturbed in the witness box, her Nineteenth Century outfit in contrast to everyone around her. Groening glared at her from his table but she refused to meet his eyes. She watched Godney and waited for his questions.

  Godney stepped her through some background that included details about the Groening church and the war.

  “Mrs. Downing, did you lose anyone in the war?”

  “Yes. I lost both of my sons.”

  “You only had two sons?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss, and I’m sure everyone in this courtroom feels the same way. Can you tell the Court, if you know, how and where your sons died?”

  Drusilla lowered her head for a moment, her expression tightening in pain.

  “I wasn’t there, of course, but after the war I talked to several men who served with my boys. They told me they were killed in the battle of Trimmer Springs.”

  “Right at the end of the war?”

  “Yes.”

  “And how did they die, if you know?”

  “I was told they were killed by the sniper in the bell tower.”

  “The sniper in the bell tower being Nick Walker, who is now the U.F. Marshal in Trimmer Springs?”

  “Yes.”

  “How did you feel about that?”

  “Your Honor…” Simpson was on his feet. “Is any of this relevant to the matter at hand?”

  Moore glanced at the prosecutor.

  “Mr. Godney?”

  “Two more questions, your Honor. Things will become clear.”

  “Very well. Proceed.”

  “Mrs. Downing? How did you feel about Nick Walker?”

  “I hated him. I prayed that he would die. I asked God to smite him.”

  “What about your grandson, Nicodemus? Did he feel the same way?”

  “Objection. Speculation.”

  “Sustained.”

  “Mrs. Downing, did your grandson, Nicodemus, ever express any opinions about Nick Walker after your sons were killed?”

  “Yes. Nicodemus was pretty small, but he understood what had happened. He told me he hated the man who killed his father, and if he ever got the chance, he would kill him.”

  “Nicodemus said he would kill Nick Walker if he ever got the chance?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did you take his threat seriously?”

  “Not really. He was only nine. And at that time we didn’t even know the Marshal’s name. We just knew of him as the sniper. And we had no idea where he was, so such a threat just seemed like harmless talk.”

  “When did you learn Walker’s identity?”

  “When the town erected the statue in the park. And later, he came to town as the U.F. Marshal. That upset a lot of people.”

  “You mean it upset the people in your congregation?”

  “Yes.”

  “When did you first realize that Nicodemus was serious about killing Nick Walker?”

  “After he was arrested. We heard about the deputy, and we heard about the Morehead girl, but none of us had any idea that Nicodemus was responsible.”

  “Your Honor, I renew my objection. Nicodemus Downing is not on trial here.”

  Moore leaned forward on the bench.

  “I agree. What are you trying to prove, Mr. Godney?”

  “Your Honor, this testimony adds weight to what Mr. Downing testified to earlier.”

  “Well, that’s nice, but Mr. Downing’s testimony is already heavy enough. It doesn’t need any more weight.”

  “But—”

  “Move along.”

  Godney sighed.

  “Yes, your Honor.

  “Mrs. Downing
, can you tell us what happened at the quarry?”

  Drusilla Downing related her version of events leading up to the stoning and the stoning itself. Groening stared at his hands, jaw clenched, but didn’t say a word.

  “Mrs. Downing, if Nicodemus hadn’t interfered, what do you think would have happened that day?”

  “I would have been killed. So would Maggie. But, if I may—it wasn’t Nicodemus who saved us.”

  “Really? If not Nicodemus, then who?”

  “It was Marshal Walker. Nicodemus stalled things, but I don’t think he could have held them off for long. Marshal Walker arrived with that lady officer and that was truly the end of it.”

  Godney nodded.

  “What effect, if any, did the attempt to kill you have on your life?”

  “I suffered a broken collarbone…” She rotated her shoulder as if to test the pain. “It’s almost healed now, thankfully. But more important, it made me reevaluate some things.”

  “Can you tell the Court about that?”

  The woman sighed.

  “I came to realize that my hatred was misplaced.”

  “Your hatred of Marshal Walker?”

  “Yes. Hatred is not a Christian virtue, of course, but when someone you love is taken from you, it’s difficult sometimes not to hate.”

  “Of course.”

  “For eight years I hated that man, or who I thought was that man, but the day he saved my life, my eyes were opened. I realized—and this was painful to accept—that he was only doing his job in the war. If he really is the man who killed my sons, then he was just doing his duty. It was war, and good people die in wars. Marshal Walker treated me with the utmost concern and respect when I was injured, and I had been so cruel to him.”

  “You had met him before?”

  “Yes. I met him on the street a few days before the stoning, and I said some really hateful things. I regret saying those things, and I have apologized to him.”

  Godney opened his mouth, but Simpson was on his feet again.

  “Your Honor, I’m running out of tissue paper here. Can we please get on with the trial?”

  Moore looked at Godney, who raised both hands in surrender.

  “Moving on, your Honor!

  “Mrs. Downing, you said your hatred was misplaced. What did you mean by that?”

  “Well, as I said, hatred is not a Christian virtue, but if I was going to hate someone, I should have been hating Antiochus Groening.”

  Groening’s head snapped up. Rage burned in his eyes, but he held his tongue.

  “Why do you say that?” Godney asked the witness.

  “Because Father Groening is the man responsible for killing my boys. He—”

  Groening leaped to his feet.

  “Shut your mouth, Drusilla!”

  Moore slammed the gavel down.

  “Sit down, Mr. Groening! I won’t warn you again.”

  Groening muttered and sputtered, but Simpson pushed him back into his chair and whispered frantically into his ear. Godney grinned and returned to his witness.

  “How was Father Groening responsible for the deaths of your sons?”

  “He started the war. He organized it. He planned it. He purchased the weapons. He conspired with foreign mercenaries. He is responsible for every single person who died in that war.”

  Victoria had been listening with half an ear. She was scribbling notes as she refined her questions for Maggie Downing, who she expected Godney to call next. Suddenly, her stylus froze in the air above the paper pad. Her heart raced. Her ears rang.

  Jesus Christ! Of course! Why hadn’t she thought of it before?

  Why had no one thought of it?

  She raised her face to stare at the witness, her mouth half open. She glanced to her right, where Groening sat with smoke pouring out of his ears.

  She glanced at her watch.

  She stood up.

  “Psst! Brian!”

  Godney turned in surprise. He stared at her a moment as she beckoned to him.

  “Your Honor, uh…a moment please?”

  “One moment, counselor. Beginning right now.”

  Godney approached and Victoria shoved her face almost into his cheek.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t do Maggie right now. Can you take her?”

  Godney frowned.

  “I thought we worked this out already.”

  “We did, and I’m sorry as hell, but I have to go. Right now. Look, push her back down the list and I’ll examine her tomorrow. Can you do that?”

  He was scowling, but he wasn’t her boss. If anything, she outranked him and didn’t need his permission to leave the courtroom.

  “I hope it’s important,” he said.

  “It is. Trust me.”

  With an unhappy nod, he turned back to his witness. Victoria didn’t wait to hear what happened next—she headed for the door.

  75th Floor, Federation Building – Lucaston, Alpha Centauri 2

  Fortunately, Gary Fraites was in his office.

  Unfortunately, Anderson Gabel was with him.

  What Victoria had to say, Gabel didn’t need to hear. She tapped lightly on the door and stuck her head inside—just in time to hear the punchline from Gabel’s joke.

  “‘At least you’re not like those other bastards!’ the old man told him. ‘You didn’t leave her hanging out there on the tree!’”

  Both men exploded into laughter. Victoria put on a smile and tapped again.

  “Excuse me. Gary, when you’re free?”

  Still laughing, Fraites waved her inside.

  “Come on in, Vic. We’re about done here.”

  She stepped inside with a tentative smile, but didn’t sit down. Fraites gazed up at her.

  “What can I do for you?”

  “Um…actually, it’s a little on the…personal side…”

  Gabel hopped to his feet.

  “That must be my cue. I’ll just slink down the hall until you’re done.”

  Fraites laughed. Victoria smiled.

  As he passed her, Gabel was grinning, but the grin didn’t quite reach his coal-black eyes. They seemed to glitter as he stepped out of the office.

  Victoria closed the door and approached the desk.

  Fraites’ grin faded.

  “You look a little rattled, Vic. What’s up?”

  She dropped into a chair facing him. She shook her head.

  “I’m not rattled, but I did want to give that impression.”

  “I don’t follow.”

  She glanced over her shoulder to make sure the door was still closed. She made eye contact again.

  “I don’t want Andy to hear what I have to say.”

  “So this isn’t personal after all?”

  “No. I have an idea I need to run by you, but it’s just between us.”

  He folded his hands on the desk, his expression at once curious and concerned.

  “Okay. Shoot.”

  Victoria talked for six minutes. Fraites didn’t interrupt, but his expression clouded as she talked. When she finished, he raised his eyebrows and heaved a sigh.

  “Are you sure about this?”

  “I’m not sure about anything, but I have to follow this avenue if I want the answers.”

  “And you didn’t want Andy to hear this because…?”

  She glanced over her shoulder again, then leaned forward and lowered her voice.

  “Gary, we haven’t known each other all that long, but I trust you. I can honestly say that you’re the best boss I’ve had since I started practicing law. Andy and I get along okay, but we’re not really close, and there are things I’m not comfortable telling him.”

  “You don’t trust him?”

  She made a painful face.

  “That’s not quite accurate. It’s just that Andy…” She groped for the right words. “Let’s just say that I don’t have the same level of trust for him that I have for you. That’s the best I can do to explain it.”

  Fraites ti
lted his head, his expression guarded.

  “Sounds like more than that, Vic. If I had to guess, I’d say you suspect him of something.”

  “No, that’s not true. But he’s already expressed disapproval of how I’m running the Frie case, and I don’t want to aggravate that wound. My idea may not pan out, and if it doesn’t, then nobody but you and I needs to know about it.”

  For the next thirty seconds, Fraites stared at his desk with a frown. Finally he met her gaze.

  “Well, it seems to me that your idea might have some merit, so go ahead. What do you need from me?”

  “Permission. If this is going to work, I have to offer Groening something. He isn’t going to talk to me out of the depths of his Christian convictions.”

  “What did you have in mind?”

  “The attempt murder stands, but I can drop the conspiracy charge. That will give him a remote chance to see daylight again, maybe by the time he’s ninety.”

  “Why not go the other way? Attempted murder is only fifteen years, but conspiracy is worth twenty-five.”

  Victoria smiled.

  “I still hope to get him on a full-blown murder charge, so I can afford to give him the twenty-five. If Dillon’s investigation comes back the way I expect, I’ll still get Groening a life sentence, but not until I have what I need.”

  Fraites shook his head.

  “You’re an evil woman, Cross. That’s just plain evil.”

  She laughed. “He’s no saint, himself.”

  “Okay. Run with it. And good luck.”

  “Thanks, Gary. I owe you one.”

  “You mean, you owe me another one.”

  “Yeah. That’s what I meant.”

  She was smiling as she left his office.

  71st Floor, Federation Building – Lucaston, Alpha Centauri 2

  Victoria returned to the courtroom just thirty minutes before Judge Moore adjourned for the day. Brian Godney looked annoyed as she settled into her chair next to Nancy, but kept his thoughts to himself. He had Elder Keyser on the stand and was finishing up. Apparently he had pushed Maggie Downing back to the next day.

  Keyser kept his promise to tell the truth, and by the time he was done, it was clear to everyone in the courtroom that Antiochus Groening was the undisputed dictator of his religious congregation.

  Monte Simpson tried to blunt Keyser’s testimony, but didn’t have much to work with. After ten futile minutes of trying to trip the witness up, he apparently decided it was a lost cause and returned to the defense table.