Rule of Evidence ps-3

by John G. Hemry

  Sharpe nodded. "Yes, sir. I agree with you, sir. Ms. Shen would've had to have gone totally insane to do something like that, and she sure looks to me like she's always looked. I'll talk to them. No guarantees, you understand. They don't work for me, and some special agents look on masters-at-arms like me as uniformed Deputy Dawgs. But I'll try. Even if they don't listen to me, I'm sure whatever they're finding out will show them they're barking up the wrong tree this time." He paused. "I'm real sorry, Ms. Shen. I know how this must feel to you. They're trying to do their jobs. They've got to check out all the angles. Sometimes cops just go off on the wrong tangent."

  "Why would they pick this tangent?"

  "Like I said, sir, they've looked at possible causes for the explosion and come up empty-handed so far. Now they're looking at other possible causes."

  "This isn't a possible cause. It's impossible."

  "I agree, sir. I'll talk to them." Sharpe paused on his way out of the hatch. "By the way, Ms. Shen, you did right not signing that paper. Don't sign anything else without a lawyer checking it."

  Jen stared at him, looking like she had when Paul had first seen her after the explosion on the Maury. "I won't."

  "Get them to shut this down, Sheriff. I can't believe they're doing this to her."

  "I'll try, sir. No promises, but like I said, I'm sure when they've looked into it a bit they'll realize Ms. Shen couldn't have done something like that."

  Fogarty's felt oddly subdued for a hail and farewell party. Lieutenant Sindh moved among the officers of the Michaelson 's wardroom, chatting politely. With Jen standing duty at the barracks where the Maury 's crew had been billeted, Paul sat alone in a corner and mostly watched. Kris Denaldo's on duty on the ship, and I don't really feel like getting happy drunk with anybody else, and I don't feel like getting morose drunk at all. And Sonya, God bless her, isn't the partying type. I think she's only having this hail and farewell because it's traditional.

  Sindh stopped by. "I probably won't see you when I leave tomorrow, Paul. I need to get off the ship early to catch my shuttle, so I'll depart during morning quarters."

  "I'm sorry to hear that. You deserve a proper send-off."

  She laughed. "All the officers lined up at the quarterdeck saluting as I march grandly off to a bright, shiny new future? That's not really my speed, Paul."

  He didn't know whether or not it was the drink he'd had, but Paul blurted out his thoughts. "You were always there for everyone else, Sonya. I'm glad I got to serve with you."

  "And I with you." Sindh made a small smile. "There was a song, long ago. Part of it says 'hello, hello; good-bye, good-bye; that's all there is.' We meet, we go on. Say my fondest farewells to Jen."

  "I will."

  Sindh made to go, then looked down at Paul with a mischievous smile. "I expect to be invited to the wedding."

  "If there is one, you'll be there."

  Another smile, this time seeming reassuring, and she went on to talk with a gaggle of ensigns. Paul had another drink, watching her and thinking of the other officers who'd already come and gone since he'd joined the Michaelson. I'm becoming a veteran of the crew. Why do I still feel inside like I'm the new guy?

  Someone plopped down next to him. Paul looked over, startled, at Val Isakov.

  Isakov hoisted her own drink. "You look lonely."

  She obviously favored outfits off-duty that showed off what she had to offer, which in Isakov's case was quite a bit. Paul felt a curious mix of attraction and repulsion as he looked back at her. "Not really."

  "Are you dating your invisible friend?"

  "No. Jen's on duty tonight."

  "Ah, too bad. No one to warm your bunk." Isakov's hand snaked out under the table and she drew one finger across Paul's leg. "Must be hard."

  His lower spine liked the sensation, but Paul's brain didn't. He twitched his leg away. "I'm happy."

  "Did I say you weren't?" She laughed and took a drink. "Lighten up. It's a party."

  "Sure."

  Isakov leaned over, her breast pushing against Paul's arm, and held the position for a moment. "See you around," she whispered. Then she pulled away, laughed again, and walked over to another group of officers.

  Paul stared after her. He put down his drink, stood up, found Sonya and said farewell again, then left and walked back to the Michaelson.

  Kris Denaldo was sitting in the wardroom, eating popcorn and watching a movie on the big display. "Hey, early night."

  "I didn't really feel like partying." Paul grabbed some coffee and sat down on the other side of the wardroom.

  Denaldo eyed him. "I don't bite. At least, that's what I'm told. And if I tried biting you, Jen'd come charging in here and throw me halfway to the Ort Cloud."

  Paul grinned. "It's not you."

  "Crazy Ivana?"

  "You mean Isakov? How'd you know?"

  "Just a guess." Kris shook her head. "Women know."

  "Well, whatever the hell Isakov is up to, I don't want any part of it."

  "Good boy. Truth to tell, I'm not sure myself, yet. But I wouldn't fix my brother up with her."

  "And I'm going to be stuck working with her for more than a year. Great. I already miss Sonya."

  "I missed Sonya before you did." Denaldo took another bite of popcorn and chewed for a moment. "Just keep Crazy Ivana at arm's length. Literally, if necessary. We'll invite Jen over for dinner some night so Isakov can see what she's messing with."

  "I'm not sure that'd scare her off. Isakov keeps talking about loving excitement and stuff."

  Kris grinned. "Messing with Jen's boyfriend would be way too much excitement for me to risk! How's Jen doing, by the way? I didn't get a chance to talk to her when she stopped by yesterday."

  "Okay, I guess." Paul tossed his empty drink container into the recycling bin. "She's really haunted by what happened."

  "I'm not surprised. I bet I'd be an emotional basket-case in her place."

  "And she's having some funny problems with investigators. People looking into what happened to the Maury." Even with Kris, he didn't want to discuss the full details. It was just too outrageous, too sick to think Jen had played any role in what had happened to her ship.

  "Really? Engineers?"

  "No, uh, Navy cops, I guess you could say."

  "Did you talk to that lawyer of yours about it?"

  "Lawyer?" Paul looked at her with real puzzlement. "I have a lawyer?"

  "Yeah, that hottie who helped nail Silver. What was her name?"

  "Carr. Alex Carr. Commander Alex Carr. Why do you and Jen keep trying to imply there's something going on between her and me?"

  Kris grinned. "Because Jen's a bit jealous and I'm trying to cause trouble."

  "You and Isakov?"

  "Whoa! Low blow. I'm not going to go Crazy Ivana on you. But, seriously, if there's something you don't understand about what the cops are asking Jen, why not ask Carr? Can't hurt."

  "Good, idea, Kris. I'll skip lunch tomorrow and stop by her office." Maybe a full-bore JAG commander can get those special agents to back off.

  ***

  Paul paused in front of the door with A. Carr, CDR, USN, JAGC stenciled on it. After Silver's court-martial, Commander Carr said if I ever needed legal help, I should check with her. This sure seems to fit. He knocked, annoyed at his own nervousness.

  Alex Carr looked up as Paul entered. "Lieutenant Sinclair."

  "Yes, ma'am. Commander, I need some advice and maybe some assistance." Why does she seem reserved? Maybe I just caught her at a bad time.

  "Something on your ship?"

  "Uh, no, ma'am. It's about the Maury, about-"

  "I'm sorry."

  "Thank you, ma'am, but-"

  "No." Carr gestured decisively. "I'm sorry I can't help you. I can't even talk about it."

  Paul stared at her, puzzled. "Ma'am, I just wanted you to know some NCIS agents have been talking to a friend of mine-"

  "Lieutenant Shen." Carr looked away, the quick smiles Paul rememb
ered as being characteristic of her completely absent now. "I know. Paul, I can't discuss it."

  He felt a chill inside. "But… ma'am? What's going on?"

  She covered her forehead and face with one hand, her elbow resting on the desk. "I can't discuss matters in litigation. I can't discuss cases I'm involved with."

  Litigation? Cases? "I don't… Commander Carr, please."

  She lowered the hand and looked straight at him. "You'll know within a few hours."

  "I want to know now! Dammit, I'm as dedicated as any officer in the Navy and I've proven it! I went on the Maury and helped patch her together and got pieces of what was left of her crew on my hands! What's going on, Commander?"

  Commander Carr stood up, looking steadily at Paul. "A military magistrate has ordered the arrest and confinement of Lieutenant Junior Grade Jen on charges pertaining to the deaths of sixty-one crewmembers and extensive physical damage to the USS Maury. Happy, Mr. Sinclair?"

  He knew his jaw had fallen open. He knew he was just staring back at her. But he couldn't say anything.

  "Mr. Sinclair. Sit down."

  He sat automatically, barely noticing the concern on her face.

  "I'm very sorry. I'm already involved in the case. I can't discuss it with you."

  Paul finally found his voice. "Ma'am, it's impossible."

  "That'll be for the court to determine."

  Court-martial? Jen? His shock was replaced by a burst of anger. "How can you do that do her?"

  "I'm doing my job, Mr. Sinclair. It's not always personally pleasant. Evidence was gathered and presented. An Article 32 investigation was conducted. In secrecy, given the sensitivity of the matter. Conclusions were reached and a warrant for arrest issued."

  "You're going to be the prosecutor?"

  "Those are my orders."

  His worst nightmare. He knew how good Carr was. He'd seen her do a great job nailing Scott Silver for his negligence. And now she'd be going after Jen. "Ma'am, can I very respectfully ask that you refuse to prosecute Jen?"

  "On what grounds, Mr. Sinclair?"

  "Personal involvement!"

  "I don't know her. I barely met her once." Her fist thudded onto the surface of her desk. "I have my duty to carry out." Then she turned away. "Whether I like it or not. Those sailors who died deserve to have justice done."

  "She didn't do it, ma'am. She couldn't. Not Jen."

  "I'm sorry. I can't discuss anything else about it. Lieutenant Shen should have a military lawyer appointed soon. Whoever that is can talk to you about it."

  "Commander, I can't believe there's evidence to support those charges!"

  Carr spun around, her eyes flashing. "Paul, don't make me order you to shut up and get out of my office! You're a good officer and as far as I know a good human being. But I have a case to prosecute to the best of my ability. Lieutenant Shen's lawyer can talk to you about the evidence until you're both blue in the face. I can't."

  Paul stood silent for a moment, then nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

  "Paul, for Christ's sake-"

  "Ma'am, you'll be fair. I know that."

  Carr nodded back. "Yes."

  "If she's innocent, you'll admit that. You won't try to convict if you see proof she didn't do it."

  Another nod, slower this time. "I will fairly evaluate all evidence available in the case. I have no trouble promising you that."

  But you'll also do your best to convict her, because that's your job.

  Who do I turn to, now?

  He hesitated outside of Carr's office. What do I do? Jen. That's priority one. He tried calling her at the barracks where the Maury 's crew were working, but a stunned voice informed him Lieutenant Shen had been taken away under arrest a half hour earlier. He called the brig, but no one could or would tell him anything. He called Petty Officer Sharpe. "Sheriff, they've arrested Je-, Ms. Shen."

  A moment of silence answered him. "Damn, sir."

  "She was arrested, but the brig won't tell me anything."

  "I'll get you something, sir. Give me a few minutes."

  Paul waited impatiently for more than a few minutes, feeling a wild urge to charge off and do something but fighting it down. Sharpe finally called back. "Yes, sir. She's in the brig. Pre-trial confinement."

  "Pre-trial? They're going to keep her there?"

  "That's the judge's orders, sir. Confinement until trial."

  "I swear I'm going to find out who did this and-"

  "Sir, with all due respect, don't let your temper run away with this. It won't help, and it will hurt."

  "I'll go-"

  "The only visitor Ms. Shen is authorized right now is her lawyer."

  Her lawyer. "Who is that?"

  "My contact at the brig didn't know. The lawyer may not've been appointed, yet."

  "So she just sits there? Alone?"

  "Sir, I… yes, sir."

  Paul stared at nothing for a long while, then remembered something and made another call. "Commander Hughes. I hope you can do something."

  Two hours later Paul was sitting on one side of a video screen set to look like a window. On the "other side" sat Jen, still in uniform but with all her insignia and ribbons removed. She stared back at him with an uncomprehending expression. "Paul, what's happening?"

  "They didn't tell you?"

  "They told me. Charges. About the Maury. God. It's a nightmare. Wake me up, Paul. Please."

  "I can't."

  "I'm in a cell. Like I'm some kind of threat."

  "I'm trying to get you out, but they haven't appointed a lawyer to represent you, yet."

  "They said I can't see anybody. How'd you manage this?"

  "Commander Hughes. She's giving you counseling, remember?"

  "I-"

  "She's your doctor, Jen. They have to let you see your doctor."

  The message got through. Jen nodded rapidly. "When?"

  "She's going through search procedures right now. She'll see you in person in a few minutes."

  "Okay." Jen swallowed and sat straighter. "It's ridiculous. They'll see that and I'll be out of here."

  "Yes." A red light blinked in one corner of Paul's "window." "I've got the thirty-second warning before they cut this off. Should I send your father a message?" Not that he'd necessarily get it for a long time with the Mahan out on patrol.

  "No! We'll fix this and then tell him."

  The blinking light sped up, indicating only seconds remained. "I love you. I'm with you."

  "Tha-"

  The screen blanked. Paul stood up and left the small visiting room. Outside the door, a master-at-arms stood at parade rest awaiting him. Paul looked at the sailor. Every other time I've seen a master-at-arms I've thought of them as being on my side. One of the good guys. And now they're holding Jen in the brig. Like Commander Carr, they're just doing their jobs. "Do you know Petty Officer Sharpe?"

  The master-at-arms nodded. "Ivan Sharpe? Yes, sir."

  "He works for me."

  "Yes, sir. That doesn't matter, sir."

  Paul met the master-at-arms's eyes. "Professional courtesy. He believes she's innocent."

  "Yes, sir." Totally noncommittal.

  Frustrated and angry, Paul realized he'd been off the Michaelson for hours. He headed back for the ship, wondering what to do. Talk to Sharpe. Find out if Jen's got a lawyer assigned yet. Why did Alex Carr have to be assigned to prosecute her?

  Approaching the Michaelson 's quarterdeck, Paul rapidly saluted the national ensign aft, then Ensign Gabriel, the officer of the deck. "Request permission to come aboard." Gabriel watched after him, startled by his abruptness. Paul turned right off of the quarterdeck and ran straight into Commander Garcia, who glowered at him. "Where the hell have you been all afternoon, Sinclair?"

  "Sir, I…" Paul told him.

  Garcia's eyes narrowed, then he nodded. "You've got the rest of the day off. Put in for as much leave as you need." He turned away, then looked back with a glare. "Make sure Chief Imari knows everything she needs to
know while you're wrapped up in this."

  Stunned, Paul watched him go through a hatch and disappear. "Thank you, sir." Life and death. Garcia's a pain the butt for lesser issues, but when it comes down to life and death he can be a decent human being.

  There was a message waiting for him in his stateroom. Paul didn't recognize the number and hurriedly dialed it, thinking it might be from Jen's newly appointed lawyer.

  But when the screen cleared he immediately recognized the woman who answered, as well as the man who joined her. "Paul! Surprise!"

  "Mom? Dad?" Paul couldn't think of anything else to say.

  "Yes. We got a contract job up here on Franklin and thought we'd surprise you."

  "That's, that's great."

  "I know you're probably not ready for us and you probably have a lot of work every day, but we should have some opportunities to get together. You father and I really want to tour your ship and see how it compares to the old relics we used to sail around in up here."

  "Sure."

  "And we're both really looking forward to finally meeting this girl of yours we've heard so much and so little about."

  "Uh…" Gee, Mom and Dad, my girlfriend's in pretrial confinement in the brig, awaiting court-martial on charges of killing over sixty of her fellow crewmembers and sabotaging her ship.

  I know you want to see the woman I haven't yet told you I want to marry, but the brig probably won't allow all of us to visit her.

  I think I can safely wonder how things could possibly get any worse today.

  Chapter Eight

  Lieutenant Ahmed Bashir, United States Navy, Judge Advocate General's Corps, was a few years older than Paul, but looked far too young to be Jen's lawyer in Paul's eyes. He wanted somebody who looked like he or she had argued and won cases in every court and venue. But the best lawyer he knew had been assigned not to defend Jen, but to prosecute her. He could only hope Bashir could go toe-to-toe with Alex Carr and not get steamrollered. "When can you get Jen out of the brig?"

  Bashir sighed. "I doubt I'll be able to do it all."

  "Why not? Do they think she's going to run away on a space station?"

  "It's not about that. It's about the safety of the station."