High Crimes

In front of the judge’s bench sat the court reporter, the same middle-aged blond-haired woman who’d been at the last court session, at a small table, wearing headphones. The LED lights on the tape deck before her flashed, emerald-green lines jumping and sinking.

“All right, I am Colonel Warren Farrell, U.S. Army,” the judge recited. “I’ve been detailed to this court-martial by the circuit military judge. I’m qualified in accordance with Article 26(a) of the Uniform Code of Military Justice. Would any counsel like to voir dire the military judge?” He referred to the seldom-used right to question, even to challenge, the judge’s right to try the case.

Waldron stood. “No, Your Honor.”

Claire stood next. “Yes, Your Honor. We would.”

Grimes slapped his forehead with a large hand. The sound was audible as far as the prosecution table, where Captain Hogan regarded Grimes with a smirk. He’d tried to talk her out of this last night, but Claire was determined.

“All right, Ms. Chapman,” Judge Farrell said in an attempt at bluff good humor.

“Your Honor,” she asked, “do you know why you were assigned to this case?”

Farrell jutted his chin and regarded her with veiled eyes. He took a sip of his coffee. “I assume I was assigned because of my experience with national-security cases.”

Claire considered this for a moment and decided to move on. “Can you please state for the record any conversations you’ve had with any member of the Office of the Judge Advocate General regarding this case.”

Farrell’s eyes flickered almost imperceptibly. But he remained game. “To the best of my recollection, counsel, I had one or two conversations that were purely administrative in nature.”

“I see. And can you please state for the record any conversations you may have had with any member of the personal staffs of the secretary of the army or the chief of staff of the army.” Here was the interesting question, and Claire wondered how honest he would be, whether he’d risk trying to cover his tracks.

But the judge was too clever. He took another sip of his coffee and glanced up at the low ceiling as if trying to recall a dim, distant memory. “Well, counsel, I can only recall one conversation I might have had that related to this case, with a member of the chief of staff’s office a few days ago.”

“Can you state for the record what you recall of that conversation?”

His eyes were dead. “Oh, we talked only generally about scheduling matters and such.”

But why was someone from General Marks’s office talking to the judge about scheduling matters? It made no sense.

“With whom did you talk, sir?”

“With Colonel Hernandez.”

From behind her, she heard Grimes exclaim, “What?”

Straining not to show her astonishment, Claire asked, “Is Colonel Hernandez in your chain of command, Your Honor?”

“No, he’s not.” The judge’s patience was visibly wearing thin.

“And, Your Honor, has Colonel Hernandez ever called you before about the scheduling of a case?”

Now he sounded dismissive. “I don’t believe so, no.”

“He’s never had any other conversations with you regarding any other court-martial scheduling?”

“As I said, I don’t recall any others.”

“Now, Your Honor, could you be more specific about what precisely you talked about with Colonel Hernandez?”

But Judge Farrell had had enough. “Counsel, I’m a busy man,” he said flintily. “My days are scheduled to the minute. I have conversations with dozens of people every day about hundreds of things. Unfortunately, I’m not always able to recollect every word that was exchanged. Now, do you or trial counsel have challenge for cause against the military judge?”

Waldron stood. “We most certainly do not have a challenge, Your Honor.”

“Your Honor, we need a brief recess to talk among counsel about whether we have a challenge,” Claire said.

“This court is in recess for ten minutes,” Judge Farrell said, and pounded his gavel.

Grimes reached out a hand and grabbed Claire’s shoulder as she sat down. “I have one simple question for you. Are you out of your fucking mind, or have you just been smoking too much weed? You’re not seriously going to challenge him for cause, are you? Because we don’t have cause.”

“No,” she admitted. “He’s stonewalling, unfortunately, and there’s nothing there we can use.”

“All right, he talked to Hernandez. Surprise, surprise. So is it just your intention to piss this asshole off?”

“Grimes, I want him to know we’re watching him, and that he’d better be on his best behavior.”

When court resumed, Claire said: “We have no challenge for cause at this time, Your Honor.”

Judge Farrell seemed to be suppressing a smile. “All right, then, will the accused please rise.”

Tom got slowly to his feet. He’d been briefed on what to say.

“Sergeant Kubik, by what form do you wish to be tried?”