by John Bowers
“Well, whoever said it was lying through their semi-permanent dentures.”
“Tell me about your boss. What kind of man is he?”
“Which one? Daddy, or Junior?”
Victoria smiled and raised her eyebrows.
“Tell me about both of them.”
The two men exchanged glances, their expressions suggesting this was a big subject. Keith Kobe heaved a deep sigh and let it out. Charley Sawyer started off.
“I came to work at NCF seventeen years ago, when I was barely twenty-one. Back then, Marty Martin was the only boss we had. His son Dickey was only sixteen. Marty was a tough man, but fair. He demanded performance, but he paid well and he wasn’t above doling out a bonus now and then for doing a good job. Then Dickey grew up and everything changed.”
“Changed how?”
Keith Kobe jumped in.
“The kid is an asshole. I don’t mean he’s a jerk, I mean he’s a full-blown, fully flowered, maggot-infested asshole. He’s so bad that flies avoid him.”
Victoria fought back the urge to laugh. The mental image in her mind was colorful, to say the least.
“You were here then?”
“Yeah. Like Charley, I started work here when I was twenty-one. I already had four years on the job when Charley came on board.”
“If you had to rate your employers, the son is worse than the father?”
“Absolutely!” Charley said. “He was always arrogant, even as a kid. Used to come into the garage and fuck around—sorry…”
Victoria grinned.
“Don’t worry, I’ve heard that word before. Keep talking.”
“Well, he used to strut around like he personally owned the place. Even tried to give orders to some of the men.”
“How did that work out?”
“Didn’t go well, I can tell you. A couple of pilots quit and everybody else bitched about him.”
“Did anyone tell his dad?”
“I didn’t. Don’t know if anyone else did.”
Keith Kobe shook his head.
“Marty has a blind spot where the kid’s concerned. I know one guy who did complain, and he damn near got fired. Never got another promotion, either.”
“Would you say either the father or the son are capable of criminal activity?”
“The kid, for sure,” Charley said.
“All by himself, the old man is pretty straight,” Keith added. “I mean, he’s a hard-ass, but like I said, he’s fair. Or used to be. But if the kid did something illegal, Marty just might cover for him.”
Victoria scribbled notes. She looked up.
“Martin’s first name is Marty? Martin Martin?”
Keith barked a laugh.
“You know, I never thought of it like that. Maybe so. I don’t know.”
“Parents can get really stupid when it comes to naming their kids,” Charley said. “I heard of someone who named their twin boys Pete and Repete. Can you believe that shit?”
Doug Hitlin laughed. Victoria smiled.
“My dad’s name was Christopher. He hated it.”
“Why?”
“Because Christopher is usually abbreviated to Chris, and he didn’t like introducing himself as Chris Cross.”
“Oh, god!” Charley groaned. “I would never have thought of that.”
“It gets worse,” Victoria told him. “He named me Victoria, but apparently never realized that ‘Victoria Cross’ is the name of a military medal in the old Royal Army on Terra. I didn’t know it myself until I started running into Brits who thought my name was funny.”
She consulted her notes and continued.
“If I call you gentlemen to the stand, are you willing to testify?”
“Sure,” Keith said. “But I won’t say anything that will hurt Wally.”
“Me, neither,” Charley Sawyer agreed.
Keith’s eyes narrowed.
“Are you starting to think he’s innocent?”
“I’m not thinking anything at this point. The physical evidence against him is pretty strong, but I’m talking to people who know him, and what I’m hearing doesn’t square with everything else. Just so you know, I will follow the evidence wherever it takes me. If that means Wallace Frie is innocent, then so be it. If not, then I’ll do my best to put him in the vacuum chamber.”
Both men stared at her as if in a minor state of shock. Neither spoke for thirty seconds, then Keith sat back and sucked a deep breath.
“Well, I can appreciate your honesty, but I hope the evidence doesn’t point you that way. If he did it, then he probably deserves to die. But I don’t think he did it. It just doesn’t fit the Wally Frie that I know.”
“How many cargo pilots work for NCF?”
“Thirteen.”
“At the time Frie was working there?”
“Oh. Maybe…nine.”
“And how many made those long runs?”
“Three. Wally took most of them, but he couldn’t take them all. Two other guys handled the overflow.”
“Do they still work there?”
“No. They both left a few months after Wally was convicted.”
“Do you know where they are now?”
The men looked at each other, then shook their heads.
“I lost track.”
“Do you remember their names?”
“Yeah. James Doyle and Steve Hunter.”
Victoria wrote the names on a separate sheet of paper, then ripped it loose and handed it to Doug Hitlin.
“Your next assignment,” she told him.
She turned back to the two men.
“Did Martin or his son ever ride along with the pilots?”
“Marty usually rides with a new hire for a couple of trips until he learns the ropes, but otherwise, no. The kid…”
“He used to ride along,” Charley said. “The pilots hated it. Not only was the kid a major pain in the ass, but they were responsible for his safety when he went out with them. And he wouldn’t listen to anything they said, which made their job damn near impossible.”
“Did he ever ride with Wallace Frie?”
“Once, that I recall.”
“How did that go? Did they get along?”
“Wally got along with everybody, even if he hated them. He was one long-suffering dude, let me tell you. He never said much about the kid.”
“What about the kid. Dickey. Did he talk about Frie?”
“He talked about everybody. Every time you saw him, he was bitching about someone. Apparently it never occurred to him that we talk among ourselves, and that we would find out what he said about us.”
“What did he say about Wallace Frie?”
“Nothing specific that I recall. Just called him the ‘old niggo’.”
“Old niggo?”
“Wallace Frie is black. It’s a racial slur.”
“Mm.” Victoria made another note. “Dickey Martin sounds like a—”
“Dick. A real dick. You know, he was young and inexperienced and new to the workplace, so I can excuse a certain amount of youthful ignorance back then…but he never got any better. He’s over thirty now and he hasn’t changed a bit.”
“Maybe a little worse,” Charley suggested.
“Yeah. Yeah, I think he’s gotten worse.”
“So, neither of you ever heard Wallace Frie make threats against other employees?”
“Fuck no! He never made threats against anybody. It just wasn’t in his nature.”
“Did either of you know Lloyd Randal?”
“Not before Wally was arrested,” Charley said. “After that was over, Randal started hanging around a lot.”
Victoria frowned. “Why would he do that?”
Sawyer shrugged. “He and Marty hit it off, I guess. They became buddies, started doing things together.”
“But it didn’t last,” Keith Kobe added. “A couple of years ago, they had a falling out.”
“About what?”
“No idea. Nobody ever sa
id. But after that, we never saw Randal again.”
Victoria interviewed them for another thirty minutes, bought another round of beers, but didn’t learn anything else of importance. By the time the bar filled up, she and Hitlin thanked the two men and took their leave.
Back in the car, Victoria let out a sigh.
“Wow. Looks like I’ve got some work ahead of me.”
“Need any help?”
“Yes. Try to find those two cargo pilots. I want to interview them if possible, and I need background checks on them both. Criminal records, financials, the works.
“And I’ve got something else for you, too.”
She opened her satchel and pulled out a single sheet with names printed on it.
“I want financials for these people.”
Hitlin took the paper and scanned the names. His eyebrows rose and he whistled.
“Seriously? I know some of these names.”
“I thought you might. But this is top secret, right? Just you and me.”
“Of course. That goes without saying.”
“You can see why I need you and not a government investigator. If anyone knew I was looking at these people, it would raise a shit storm in my office.”
“Nothing to worry about. I only rat out my friends if the price is right.”
She cast him a sharp glance. He threw up both hands and laughed.
“Kidding! Just kidding.”
“Better not make jokes like that in front of people who don’t know you. They might take you seriously.”
“Point taken. Where to now?”
“Back to the Federation Building. You can let me out on the street. Nobody except my boss knows I’ve hired you, and if we’re seen together it may raise questions.”
“Not a problem. Federation Building, coming up.”
75th Floor, Federation Building – Lucaston, Alpha Centauri 2
Victoria arrived back at her desk just before seven in the evening. Everyone was gone except Nancy Swift, who routinely worked late. Victoria uploaded her notes into the computer and then made more notes for herself. That done, she reviewed.
She had interviewed everyone Hitlin had located, and had given him two more names to locate. When he got them to her, she would study the financials of several people of interest, and when all that was done…
She still had to get ready for trial.
The trial was six days away and she had a lot to do. She needed to interview prosecution witnesses and prep them for the witness stand, including Lloyd Randal’s wife, the officers who had arrested Wallace Frie, a forensics expert, and the medical examiner.
Actually, for a trial of this scope, the witness list was surprisingly short. Only five names so far. If Frie was guilty, this really was a slam-dunk. Anderson Gabel had wrapped everything into a neat package and handed it to her with a chocolate on top. Only a fool or a total incompetent could lose this one.
Victoria stared out the window, deep in thought.
She didn’t think she was incompetent, but…
Was she a fool?
Chapter 24
Wednesday, February 10 to Friday, February 12, 0444 (CC)
The rest of the week went fairly quickly. Each day was packed with long hours and not enough sleep, but Victoria was used to that when a trial was pending. She re-interviewed and prepped her witnesses, studied the forensic evidence, re-reviewed all the case information, from lab reports to autopsy reports to forensics and witness statements. She drew up a plan of attack, a trial outline, to best present the evidence. She asked Nancy to prepare a witness list to give the defense, who had a right to it under discovery. Under discovery, the defense also received a breakdown of all the physical evidence that she would use against Frie.
Late Wednesday afternoon, Brian Godney paged her that the defense had rested in the Groening case. Judge Moore had called a one-hour recess and would make his ruling when court reconvened. Victoria vacated her office and headed down the lift to the 71st floor. She was seated next to Godney when the session resumed.
“How was the defense case?” she asked Godney in a quiet voice.
“Pathetic. They have nothing. They’d have done better to take a plea.”
“We didn’t offer them one.”
“They should have begged for one. But I think Groening is so self-important that he can’t admit that life as he knows it is over.”
Judge Moore resumed the bench and gaveled the session to order. He hemmed and hawed for a moment, organizing his papers. He ate a chocolate.
“Before I make my ruling, does either the defense or the Federation have anything to add? Any motions or points of confusion?”
“None, your Honor,” Godney said.
“Nothing from the defense, your Honor,” said Monte Simpson.
“Very well. The Court has heard all the evidence presented and all the testimony. When we started this trial, there were two charges in play…attempted murder, and conspiracy to commit murder. The Federation has dropped the second charge, so the only thing remaining is the attempt murder charge.
“I have followed the evidence closely and I’m ready to announce the verdict. Will the defendant please rise.”
The courtroom was silent as Groening and Simpson stood. Simpson buttoned his suit coat. Godney and Victoria also stood and waited expectantly.
Moore cleared his throat again.
“Reverend Groening… Wait a minute, I guess I got that wrong. Father Groening, I’ve sat in judgment of many murder cases in my career, and probably an equal number of attempted murder trials. I thought I had seen and heard it all, but I was mistaken; the details of the charges against you are about as egregious as anything I’ve ever heard.
“This crime was not committed for the usual reasons, such as revenge or profit. Rather, it was committed in a quest for power, or to reinforce your power. You sentenced a young girl, a teenage minor, to a hideous death at the hands of her peers. You involved many members of your congregation in the crime, and only the barest good luck prevented a tragedy.
“Before I pursue this line of thought, let me say that, if the victim of this crime, Maggie Downing, was guilty of something that justified being stoned to death, stoning is still a crime. But there is nothing, not a single, solitary thing, that girl could have done to merit such a horrible fate. Nothing.
“Having said that, I understand that you were acting—or thought you were acting—in accordance with biblical teaching. I am not a religious person, but I’ve been around churches and church people all my life, and in my experience, every single Christian denomination traces their faith to the same book, the Holy Bible. It is also my experience that every single one of them takes something slightly different from that book. No two religions agree exactly on every point of doctrine. Some are more liberal than others, and some are extremely fundamental. But never in my career have I encountered anyone who literally imposed the admonition of Deuteronomy 21, which commands stoning to purge disobedient children from the congregation.
“The simple fact, Father Groening, is that Federation law, even at the local level, does not condone the stoning to death of children. Of anyone, for that matter, but especially children. I am not aware of any specific statute that forbids it, but that’s only because the very idea is so shocking that the lawmakers never even considered stoning as a possible crime. Therefore, the prohibition against it falls under the general statute for homicide.
“And it gets worse than that. Not only did you condemn a young girl to a horrible death, but that girl was your own granddaughter! I simply cannot process the horror of that fact, and I doubt if anyone in this courtroom can process it.”
Moore peered at Groening. Groening glared back.
“Antiochus Groening, this Court finds you guilty of attempted murder. The recommended sentence for such a crime is fifteen years to life, fifteen years being the minimum possible sentence. If you had been successful in your attempt to kill your own granddaughter, I would be impo
sing the death sentence right now. As it is, the girl survived, and at this time we have no other known victims of your malevolent leadership. Therefore, the Court sentences you to fifteen years at Syracuse Island. If you behave yourself, you can be released at the end of that time, but if I hear any reports that you are anything but a model inmate, I will adjust the sentence to life.
“Bailiff, take the prisoner away.
“Court is adjourned.”
The gavel banged and conversation started up. Victoria watched as Groening was led away in E-cuffs. She halfway expected him to protest, or bluster in some way, but for once he seemed subdued and left the room without comment.
She turned to Godney, who was grinning his widest.
“We did it, Vic! We got him!”
“Yes we did. You did it, Brian. Congratulations.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you.”
“Of course you could have.”
“Well, let me buy you a beer anyway.”
“You’re on. But right now I have to get back upstairs.”
“You working on Frie?”
“Yeah.”
“Need help?”
“Maybe. Check back with me tomorrow.”
She heard a rustle and approaching conversation. She glanced around to see three holo V reporters heading toward them.
“Your fans await,” she said quickly. “Enjoy your moment. And don’t mention my name. Nick Walker might be listening.”
Godney laughed as she skittered around him and shot out of the courtroom through a side door.
*
Back at her desk, Victoria found that Frie’s defense team had sent over a prospective witness list for the trial. She scanned the names, which included a couple of experts and some character witnesses. She called James Dillon to run backgrounds on them. He promised to get back to her no later than Friday.
The Semper Fi – Lucaston, Alpha Centauri 2
On Thursday, Doug Hitlin reported in. He also had financial reports on several individuals, and had located the two cargo pilots she had sent him to find. She met him at the Semper Fi.
“What did you find out?” she asked him over a couple of beers.
