High Crimes

Tom knew the answer. “A court-martial with officer members, sir.” The members of the jury were selected by the convening authority. It was illegal to stack the court, though it was known to happen from time to time. Members were also supposed to be free to vote their conscience, without guidance from above, or “command influence.” Generally, members were supposed to be senior in rank to the accused. If the accused was an enlisted man, not an officer, he had the right to request that at least a third of the jury members be enlisted; but Grimes had urged Tom to choose all officers, who tended to be more reliable, more trustworthy, and less likely to act rashly. Or so Grimes had told him.

“By whom do you wish to be represented?” asked the judge.

“By Ms. Chapman, Mr. Grimes, and Captain Embry, sir.”

“That request is approved. The accused will now be arraigned. Does the defense request the charges and specifications be read to the accused?”

“We waive a reading, Your Honor,” Claire said.

“Sergeant First Class Kubik, I now ask you how do you plead, but before I ask you, I advise you that any motions to dismiss, or for other relief, must be made at this time.”

“Your Honor, defense has a number of motions,” Claire said.

There was a glint in the judge’s eye. The motions weren’t a surprise, since he’d demanded they get their motions in three days before the arraignment and present them in a hearing before the judge without the jury present. The whole procedure was a formality, a highly scripted ritual, a Kabuki dance. “Sergeant Kubik,” he said, “you may be seated.”

Tom returned to his seat in a crisp military maneuver. This was the only time he would ever be required to speak in court, and he was done.

And the Kabuki dance began. Claire presented and argued her motions, one after another, and Waldron stood to knock them down as best he could. There were quite a few motions. Move to dismiss the entire court-martial on the grounds of insufficient evidence. Motion in limine to exclude the record of Tom’s service in Vietnam, which Tom continued to insist was cooked up, on grounds that it wasn’t relevant to the charges.

And on and on and on. Judge Farrell scribbled furiously while Claire spoke, as she produced her appellate exhibits. And for several hours this went on.

Until at last Claire was finished, and Judge Farrell began, “Counsel, I’ve considered your motion to dismiss, as well as the testimony and evidence produced in support of the motion, and the evidence produced by the government, and it is denied. My findings of fact and conclusions of law will be appended to the record of trial, prior to authentication.”

No surprise, but Claire stood to preserve the record. “Objection to your ruling, Your Honor.”

“Your objection is overruled.

“Next, counsel, I’ve considered your motion for appropriate relief for admission of an expert witness to testify on an exculpatory polygraph, as well as the testimony of your expert witness, as well as the testimony produced by the government, and your motion is denied. My findings of fact and conclusions of law will be appended to the record of trial, prior to authentication.”

This was a major loss, and Claire jumped up. “Objection to your ruling, Your Honor.”

“Your objection is overruled.”

And so it went. One after another.

Each motion, so artfully presented, so cogently argued — denied. Each time Claire popped up like a child’s jack-in-the-box and preserved her objection for the record, but there it was. Denied. Overruled. Finally Judge Farrell said, with a glint of triumph, “Any further motions, counsel?”

Grimes shook his head, scowling. Tom stared straight ahead in numb disbelief. Embry looked distant, troubled.

“Yes, Your Honor,” Claire said, getting wearily to her feet. “Defense once again challenges the closed nature of these proceedings. The accused, as we continue to maintain, has a right to a public trial, guaranteed to him in the First and Sixth Amendments, which we respectfully—”

“No,” Judge Farrell snapped.

“Your Honor?”

“We’ve been through all that, so forget it.”

“Your Honor, the defense respectfully maintains that such a trial—”

“Sit down.” Claire sat. “I said forget it. I don’t want to hear it again.” The judge’s ruddy face reddened further. “The government has already made a persuasive case that the accused’s rights are not in fact compromised by holding this trial in camera. That there are valid national-security concerns. This is all covered under Military Rule of Evidence 505. I’ve made my rulings. Were you paying attention in court?”

From her seat at the defense table, Claire said: “Your Honor—”

“Let me tell you something, Ms. Chapman. Loud and clear. I don’t want to hear it again. And if you bring this up in front of the panel, I’ll hold you in contempt of court, you hear me?”

“Yes, sir,” Claire said. Under her breath she muttered to Grimes, “I’m in contempt of this court most of the time.”

“You say somethin’?” Judge Farrell barked.

“No, sir.”