The Clouds Beneath the Sun (56 page)

He gathered up his gown again. “As Your Honor well knows, my client—as defendant—does not have to produce rival theories about who committed this crime in order to demonstrate his innocence, but I cannot help but remark that the prosecution do not seem to have considered one very plausible alternative to their case against Mutevu Ndekei.”

He looked around the court.

“Which is that the excavation run by Dr. Eleanor Deacon was and is a close-knit group of highly ambitious, very clever people, where rivalries were and are intense, where competition is the order of the day, and, it seems, where personal emotions got mixed up with professional responsibilities. That seems to me a perfect forcing ground for an explanation for this sort of murder.”

He looked about him. “As the court has seen, Dr. Nelson is a very attractive woman, very attractive indeed, and in the close confines of the excavation she was surrounded by several young men.”

He let a silence elapse before turning to the judge and saying, “But that too, Your Honor, is speculation—”

“Yes, yes it is,” interjected the judge. “And forgive me, Mr. Hall, but I wish to be clear about this. Are you suggesting that someone else impersonated Mr. Ndekei, or that Dr. Nelson made up her story to protect a lover who was jealous of Professor Sutton? I am confused.”

What must Richard Sutton Senior make of all this, Natalie wondered.

“I am obliged to Your Honor,” said Hall. “But I respectfully remind the court that we in the defense are not required to make the prosecution’s case for it. I merely point out some avenues of inquiry the prosecution appear to have overlooked or ignored.”

The judge nodded.

Hall continued. “As you say, Your Honor, that is all speculation on my part, and I will go no further. I simply repeat my central point: that there is no direct
physical
evidence to link my client to this crime, that everything presented in this court has been circumstantial, and that, so far as
motivation
is concerned, no evidence at all has been presented, only conjecture.”

He paused. “In those circumstances, Your Honor, I respectfully submit that any conviction based on such evidence would be unsafe, very unsafe indeed, and I refer you to
Regina v. Salter
, 1954, and
Regina v. McWhirter and others
, 1957. It is my submission that, in the case of
Regina v. Mutevu Ndekei
, my client has no case to answer and that therefore the charges against him should be dismissed, and dismissed immediately, now, this very day.”

He sat down.

For a moment once again, the only sound in court was the judge scribbling in his notebook with his pen.

He finished, carefully screwed the top of his pen back on, put it in his inside pocket, and looked up. “Thank you, Mr. Hall.”

He looked around the court. “Very well. I see it is now time for luncheon. I will consider your arguments over the indifferent cold meats that the court service usually provides, and will give you my decision this afternoon.”

“All rise!” barked the court usher and the judge stood up.

Everyone else did too, the attorneys nodded to Tudor, he nodded back, and then he retired through a polished wooden door behind his chair.

•   •   •

“Now the fireworks start,” said Maxwell Sandys.

“How do you mean?” said Jack.

“Hilary Hall was given a respectful hearing, very respectful by Tudor’s standards, when he tried to argue there’s no case to answer, but if he now attempts to mount a defense based on Maasai law, and in the process Ndekei admits killing Sutton, watch the judge go for him.”

Sandys was standing in the well of the court, surrounded by Eleanor, Natalie, Natalie’s father, Jack, Christopher, and Daniel. Everyone else had gone for lunch.

“But there’s something different about Tudor today, don’t you think?” said Jack. “That quip about ‘indifferent cold meats’ for lunch … very unlike him. If someone else made that sort of remark, he’d see it as bringing the bench into disrepute.”

Sandys shrugged. “That’s just Tudor warming up to get nasty. He’s showing his human side before his monstrous side takes over. He knows this case is high profile, and he knows what his reputation is, so he wants to appear reasonable, leave no room for an appeal on procedural grounds.” He turned to Natalie. “Now, my dear, I don’t think you should stay this afternoon. It could get very stormy in the public galley up above and outside, in the street. Ndekei might even be sentenced to hang today. Who knows when they might choose to take it out on you?”

“Oh, I don’t think—” Natalie began but her father interrupted her.

“He’s right, Tally.”

“In fact, unless Jack wants to stay, to see the storm, he could even fly you back to the gorge this afternoon—that would be safest of all.”

Everyone looked at Jack.

He glanced at his watch. “Let’s see. There’s something I have to do this afternoon, a special, informal meeting of this committee I’m on, to review the news that is coming out of the London independence conference, which started yesterday. That kicks off at 2:30 and shouldn’t take more than an hour. So yes, I can pick Natalie up at the hotel at, say, four. That will give us time to get to the gorge before dark. What about the rest of you?”

Eleanor spoke first. “I want to stay to the end, so does Owen, and so does Daniel, just in case it turns ugly, when having a black African with us may help. Christopher is staying on anyway, to have some flying lessons, now that he is well again.” She turned to Sandys. “You think the trial will end today?”

He shook his head. “I can’t say. It all depends on how Tudor reacts to the defense Ndekei is going to run.” He paused. “But to answer your question, Eleanor, I don’t see how the trial can last beyond tomorrow morning.”

Jack nodded. “I agree I should get Natalie out of harm’s way this afternoon. I’ll fly back tomorrow and collect everyone else.” He addressed his mother. “If there’s any change, you can always radio-telephone me at the camp.”

Eleanor nodded and moved towards Natalie. “Well done, my dear, well done in the witness box, I mean. All that sex talk was quite unnecessary but you managed to remain strong and dignified
and
put that beastly barrister in his place. What would
he
know about intellectual passion? Incidentally, sitting with your father in court yesterday and today, we’ve talked a lot and he’s had an interesting idea. He is, as you know, a great admirer of Teilhard de Chardin, the theologian who wanted the church to adapt to developments in paleontology. Chardin is dead, of course, but your father’s given me the idea to invite some religious leaders out to the gorge, people who might feel they are embarrassed by our discoveries, but who might relish the chance to see at first hand what we are doing. People like Paul Tillich and Albert Schweitzer. Having the winner of the Nobel Peace Prize visit the gorge would be a major coup, don’t you think?”

She didn’t wait for an answer. “Anyway, he and I will carry on discussing it and we can all thrash out the details when we are back in the gorge.” She turned to Chistopher. “Are you going to wait with us?”

“No,” he said. “I’m off to the airport. I’ve got a flying lesson this afternoon, and tomorrow and the day after that. I’ll come back to Kihara then.” He patted Natalie’s shoulder. “Well done.”

“Christopher,” said Jack. “If you’re going out to the airport, could you fill my plane with juice? It will save time and Natalie and I need to get to the Kihara strip before dark.”

“Sure,” said Christopher. He kissed his mother and left.

Eleanor turned back to Sandys. “Now, Maxwell, is there anywhere near here we can find a sandwich and a glass of water?”

“I’m ahead of you, my dear. Sandwiches and water are waiting for all of you in my office.” He turned to Natalie. “Well done, again. Enjoy your flight back to Kihara.”

One by one they filed out of the courtroom into the corridor. As Natalie left the courtroom, Richard Sutton Senior rose from the bench he was sitting on and moved in her direction. He was alone; there was no sign of Russell.

She kept going but he stood directly in front of her. He looked down at her, then pulled her sleeve, forcing her to stand to one side.

He spoke softly.

“Did you and Richard—? Were you ever—?”

“No!” Natalie cried, but under her breath. Then, more softly still, “No. Nor, whatever he may have told you, with Russell North.” She shook her head vehemently. “No.”

She stepped around Sutton and tried to walk on but he caught her sleeve again. “You don’t understand.”

His voice had cracked and she stared at him. For once Richard Sutton Senior didn’t look like a self-confident corporate lawyer. He looked like a father who had lost his son.

“For a moment there, in court, I hoped … I dared to hope … Before he came to Africa this time, Richard told me … he was a homosexual.”

•   •   •

Shouting. She was immediately awake. Shouting in the street. Not outside the hotel but some way off. Yet another political demonstration?

As soon as Natalie had reached her hotel room, after the makeshift sandwich lunch in Maxwell Sandys’s office, and while she waited for Jack to collect her after his committee meeting, she had tried to digest Richard Sutton’s bombshell, which confirmed after all what Kees had said. And at the same time she had worked hard to divest herself of her memories of the morning’s proceedings.

Despite Sandys’s warnings, and his attempts at reassurance, Hilary Hall had got under her skin. His insinuations about her sexual behavior had made her seem loose, easy prey, the center of a swamp of passions in Kihara, which was just so far from the truth as to be comical if it wasn’t so hurtful and damaging. And that her father should have been there to be exposed to it all …

Not the least of her anguish arose from the fact that she had lied in court, had perjured herself. It was the first big lie she had ever told and it sat uneasily—very uneasily—with her. Part of her, she realized, was still very naive. Some people, she supposed, told lies of that magnitude every day of their lives, other people thought nothing of lying in court. But not her. It had been a lie she had to tell but it had exacted a price. It was one of the reasons she was drained and exhausted.

And she had fallen fast asleep, dropping off immediately.

The shouting grew louder but she couldn’t make out what was being said.

She got up and moved to the window. Her room was at the back of the hotel and looked out on to a small square with straggly trees, and at the far side a wide avenue stretched south, towards the sun. Two blocks further on she could make out a parade, placards, people dancing, shouting, singing. She still couldn’t hear what the noise was all about. Were they celebrating the independence conference in far-off London? Had something happened that she didn’t know about?

There was a rap on the door to her room. “Natalie! Natalie, open up!”

She looked at her watch, twenty to three. Too early for Jack and in any case it wasn’t Jack’s voice.

She opened the door and then stood back as Max, Eleanor, Daniel, and her father streamed in.

“What—? What’s happened? Why aren’t you in court?”

“The trial’s over. Tudor dismissed the charges.” Max undid his tie, a first. “He agreed with Hilary Hall, there’s no case to answer.” Sandys took his tie and stuffed it into his pocket. He shook his head. “Can you believe it? All the evidence the prosecution tendered, he said, was circumstantial. Ndekei never got a chance to mount his defense, to admit he killed Sutton; instead he’s been freed.” Sandys went to the window of her room. “That’s the shouting you can hear—he’s being carried on high through the streets, like a victorious warrior returning home.”

Natalie stared at the others one by one. “So … so, all the preparation, all the unpleasantness, all the threats from Richard Sutton Senior, all the energy and worry and sleepless nights … have been for nothing?” She slumped on to the bed. “How could that happen?”

Sandys wearily rubbed his hand over his face. “I don’t know. It’s a very,
very
strict interpretation of the law. Our evidence
was
circumstantial, in that, had someone wanted to impersonate Ndekei, and done so, the evidence would have been much as we presented it. But we all knew, or thought that we knew, that Ndekei would admit the killing and claim Maasai custom as his defense. And we took our eye off the ball. Ndekei, Marongo, and maybe Tshone—Hall’s Maasai assistant—tricked us to do less work, less research, than we should have done. The trial didn’t get that far. Tudor
has
been different lately but not
that
different. Today, however, I must say, he has interpreted the law strictly but, I am afraid, not incorrectly.”

Natalie felt as if she had been punched in the stomach. She was breathing heavily, and sweating. She leaned over and took a glass of water by the side of the bed. She looked at Max. “After I left the court, Richard Sutton came up to me and asked if I’d really had sex with his son. He hoped I had, he said, because Richard Junior had confessed to being a homosexual.”

Max stared back at her. “So maybe there
was
more to the murder than tribal custom …” He shook his head. “We’ll never know.”

Natalie rubbed her eyes with her hands. “What happens now? How has Marongo reacted?”

“We don’t know,” replied Eleanor, also taking a glass of water from the side of Natalie’s bed. “It’s too early, though I don’t expect he’ll wait long until he begins to make political capital out of this.” She turned to Natalie’s father. “Why don’t you go and pack, Owen, and check out of the hotel? Be ready to fly to the gorge this afternoon. Christopher’s staying on in Nairobi, so there’ll be room in Jack’s plane for you.”

Owen nodded and made to leave the room. As he went through the doorway, however, he almost collided with Jack.

“I heard what happened,” he said, coming over to Natalie. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. Shocked but fine.” She nodded and gave him a weak smile.

“A change of plan, Jack,” said Eleanor briskly. “We’re all flying back to the gorge this afternoon, now. Owen Nelson will take Christopher’s place.”