The Great Divide (48 page)

Marcus felt it necessary to say it all, speak the words in a litany of sorrow over having let more people down. “You can’t release her because you don’t have her anymore. You must have slipped up somehow. I’m sure you never intended to let this happen.”

“I’ll be held responsible for just one death, and that one is yours.
And don’t you think it’s ending when the jury comes back and says to the world, ‘We find for the defense on all counts.’ No sir. That’s when the fun starts. Right then and there, we’re gonna stake you out and sharpen the knives.”

Randall Walker had to stop and fight to breathe around a chest filled more with rage than air. “You ever heard of death by a thousand cuts? We’ll take you apart one tiny piece at a time. First your career, then what’s left of your good name, then every cent you have. We’re suing you for a frivolous claim and charging you for all our legal fees. And we’re gonna win. Yeah we are. Bankrupt you and take it all, right down to that fine fancy house you set so much store by. Already got me some good folks who’ll take it off my hands. Good folks, yeah, the kind who
deserve
a place like that.”

Marcus saw what was coming, and the realization struck like a stone-hard fist to his heart.

“New Horizons wants to turn it into a museum, people tramping through there looking at all the fine clothes they make, all the great stars who endorse their gear.” Randall Walker laughed aloud. “When they came to me, you know what I said? I told them it was a great idea. Such a fine plan, once we bankrupt you and claim the old place for our own, they can have it for a dollar.”

U
NITED STATES Attorney General Samantha Paltroe had a round face creased by worry and power, and wore her dark suit with the dignity of a judge’s robe. Both she and Judge Nicols greeted Logan Kendall’s approach with the full-bore sternness of long judicial practice.

Logan began, “We are most grateful that you would take the time to join us today, Madame Attorney General. Could you perhaps begin by telling the court what you have been forced to postpone in order to be here?”

“A meeting with the director of Interpol with regard to organizing efforts in the international war against drugs,” she responded in the deep bland drone made famous by hundreds of televised appearances. “A hearing before the Supreme Court, and attendance at a presidential cabinet meeting.”

Logan let the moment hang for emphasis, then continued, “The plaintiff has made a lot of fuss about alleged labor violations in China. Even if these allegations were true, which we adamantly declare they are not, do you not have a number of punitive measures at your disposal to deal with such international matters?”

“At our
nation’s
disposal,” she corrected sternly.

“The nation’s disposal. Of course.” Not minding the correction. Not from this woman. Logan’s manner was as meek as he could make it, given the global spotlight, the packed courtroom, the attention given to his every word. “What would some of these measures be?”

“Various diplomatic treaties outline possible sanctions, both trade and otherwise.”

“Given your understanding of both the law and this specific situation, do you feel this case should have been brought to trial?”

“I do not.”

“Do you feel General Zhao should have been forced to attend?”

“Under no circumstances whatsoever. His appearance is a serious embarrassment to both our nations. Not to mention the absolute chaos this court’s freezing of Chinese financial assets has caused to trade and the international markets.” She looked directly at General Zhao for the first time. “A situation for which I heartily apologize.”

Logan paused long enough for the jury to turn and watch the general respond with a single jerky nod. Then, “Given your understanding of the case, Madame Attorney General, what is your impression of the allegations?”

“My opinion as both a former judge and federal prosecutor is that the plaintiff’s lawyer is seriously confused.” Her tone was coldly dismissive. “I understand from the newscasts that he has been through a rough time personally. It shows in how he has sought to try this case.” The creased face pointed directly at Marcus. “He should seek help.”

Logan turned to grant Marcus the same smile he had shown during Suzie Rikkers’ questioning. “Confused.”

“The United States Congress has instituted a series of trade laws dealing with unfair commercial practices overseas. Such issues are best dealt with through the International Labor Organization and the United Nations. This attempt to resolve such issues by filing a federal lawsuit for alleged false imprisonment abroad is utterly misguided.”

“Is it now,” Logan purred, then repeated for the jury’s sake, “misguided.”

“Absolutely.” The attorney general turned to Judge Nicols and continued, “General Zhao is protected by diplomatic immunity. He is here strictly as a personal favor to the China Trade Council, which is as concerned as I am about the way this trial is jeopardizing both diplomatic and trade relations.” Her voice took on a stronger edge. “With all due respect to this court, this trial is a serious breech of judicial boundaries, one that should be rectified immediately.”

Logan spun about, marched to his table, accepted the paper offered by Suzie Rikkers. “Your Honor, based upon the expert advice of the United States attorney general, we hereby resubmit our motion to have this case immediately dismissed.”

Judge Nicols accepted the paper and set it down unread. “First I will grant the plaintiff the right to cross.”

“Your Honor—”

She showed her own steel. “Proceed or relinquish the witness, Mr. Logan.”

Logan retreated, fuming. “No further questions.”

Charlie started to rise, but Marcus settled a hand on his shoulder and held the old man down. He had arrived at the next distressing moment in a long line of painful junctures he would have given anything to avoid. He rose to his feet, dreading his next move, which was to turn and look at the jury. Their eyes reflected morbid curiosity in the walking dead. He nodded his acceptance, grateful for the sleeplessness that had left him numb from the brain down.

After confronting the jury, meeting the attorney general’s overt hostility was a cakewalk. “Mrs. Paltroe,” he began, stripping her of all titles, ignoring the stiffening of her spine, repeating it for emphasis. “Mrs. Paltroe, could you tell the court just precisely how you have utilized the powers of your office to assist us in returning this young woman to her home?”

Her reaction was etched with corrosive clarity. “I have yet to see evidence that suggests the woman is in fact being held against her will.”

Marcus nodded slowly, moving nearer to the jury. Letting them inspect the damage up close. Hiding nothing. Not his fragility, not his two sleepless nights, not the pain he knew was there in his gaze. “Then perhaps you could tell us how much time you have spent actually obtaining the evidence upon which you reached this conclusion.”

“It may have escaped your notice, Mr. Glenwood, but the world does not revolve around you.” The gallery tittered, but the jury did not. They were too close, too aware of him and his wounds. “I have other affairs that command my attention.”

“Other affairs,” Marcus said, “that are, in your opinion, more important.”

She hesitated for the first time. Sensing the trap. “Other affairs that are of national importance. Vital issues that will affect generations to come.”

“Of course.” He felt no need to engage this woman in battle. This close to the jury box, he could almost feel the waves of pitiful rejection.
They were sorry for him, they felt for the Halls, but they were going to find for the defense. And Gloria Hall was dead. These facts he had spent his days and nights struggling to accept. The torment left him feeling as though he were dancing upon the stage of the damned. “Mrs. Paltroe, as you may or may not know, we have material this court has permitted us to enter as evidence that points to serious wrongdoing by the defendants. With respect, this hard evidence is not something that would hold the attention of Congress. The court’s task is to determine who is
responsible
. Who is
guilty
. The political realm, Mrs. Paltroe, does not
want
to assign responsibility.”

“Objection!” Logan pointed his silver pen at Marcus, but his face said he would have preferred to be holding a loaded gun. “Is that man asking a question or giving a lecture?”

Judge Nicols responded with a severity that managed to push through the fog of misery surrounding Marcus. “Mr. Glenwood permitted you to bring in a new witness yesterday without even objecting. Is that not true?”

“But Your Honor, our witness is—”

“I know who she is as well as anyone else in this court.” She leaned both elbows on the bench. “Mr. Glenwood then permitted you to traipse this witness wherever you wished to go, including a personal insult against his professional abilities. And he did not offer a single objection throughout. I therefore suggest that you sit down and allow him to continue.”

Marcus turned to face the judge and said quietly, “Thank you, Your Honor.”

“Proceed, counsel.”

“Yes ma’am.” He turned back, and found a reluctant wariness in the attorney general’s gaze. Hostile, still, but aware of him now as an opposing force. “Is it not against the basic rules of diplomacy to assign blame?”

“In some cases, perhaps. But not all.”

“You
negotiate
a matter. You do not condemn. Is that also not correct?”

“In such areas as international affairs, sometimes it is better to find a joint resolution.”

“And in cases where such a resolution is not possible?” When he was answered by a longer hesitation, he took a step closer, and attacked. “This very administration, which included in its election manifesto
a sharp criticism of Chinese human-rights abuses, now says nothing at all. Now that they are in office, trade has become the critical issue. Trade and campaign dollars. Anything so minor as the disappearance of a young woman has to be swept aside.”

A flash of anger. “That is not true at all.”

“I submit that it is in fact very true, Mrs. Paltroe. I submit that the hundreds of officials under your command have done absolutely nothing to determine what happened to Gloria Hall. Why? Precisely because they are terrified of what they might find.”

“Objection!”

“Overruled.”

Marcus retreated a single step. “As you yourself said, Mrs. Paltroe, the drug war is an international issue, is it not?”

“Yes.”

“And yet when we have people selling heroin on our streets, we do not let them go, do we?”

“No.” It was her turn to lean forward. “Not if they are selling on
our
streets.”

“We do not turn them over to Congress or the State Department for a diplomatic resolution, do we? If a crime is committed under federal law, even one where international issues are at stake, we try the criminal in our courts. Is that not true?”

She flushed angrily. “Juries are not responsible for setting international policy!”

“No, but they
are
here to determine guilt.” Marcus brought the fight straight into that seamed and powerful face. “Courts of law are intended to hold people accountable, are they not? This jury cannot right all the wrongs in this world. But it
can
decide guilt in relation to a specific issue. Is that not true?”

The hostility left a bitter residue. “Not in a case this weak.”

“I would say that is for the
court
to decide.” He walked back to his table, drained of all fight, all will. It was all he could do to say simply, “No further questions.”

Judge Nicols turned to the attorney general and said mildly, “With respect, this court happens to disagree with your assessment of jurisdiction. The defense’s motion for dismissal is denied.” She banged her gavel. “Court is adjourned until nine tomorrow morning.”

A
FTER THE JUDGE DEPARTED
, Marcus let the seat take his immense encumbrance, and said to Alma and Austin, “We need to talk.”

Alma reached for his hand. “You look exhausted.”

Charlie shifted his chair closer to the gathering. “Don’t you worry about our boy. Any lawyer worth his salt has learned that sleeping easy is something he’ll do only after his last case is tried and won.” He said to Marcus, “Boomer is dead-worried about you driving around in that Jeep.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s nothing of the sort. Darren showed me. It’s got no bumper and the passenger side looks like it’s been chewed on by a pit bull with steel teeth.”

“It will do for now.” He kept his gaze centered upon Alma and Austin. Spoke to the woman, for her gaze was easiest to meet. “My guess is tomorrow the defense is going to rest.”

Alma sought reassurance in his features. When she found none, tension raised her voice a notch. “That’s good, isn’t it?”

Marcus was in no mood for lies. Or, for that matter, too much truth. “With your permission I am going to decline my right of rebuttal. I have no further evidence that will strengthen our case.”

Charlie agreed. “Repeating things is dangerous at this stage. It can weaken the power the jury felt when the evidence was first brought forward. And afterward the defense will have another chance to counterattack. We won’t catch them with their pants down twice. No sir, not this crowd.”