Wilderness Double Edition 21, page 28
“Indeed. But how is it, Mr. Hyde, that you knew Artemis Borke even had a brother, since, by your own admission, you had never been to the trading post before?” Jacob Hyde’s throat bobbed. “Well, I must have been there once but just misremembered.”
“I see. And have you also misremembered the part you played in Louisa King’s abduction?”
“I don’t savvy.”
“You’ve laid the blame at the feet of Phineas Borke, claiming the idea, and the execution of the deed, were entirely his.”
“Yeah, so?” Hyde’s nervousness was obvious to everyone.
“Then how do you explain the fact that when Lieutenant Pickforth and his men cornered Phineas Borke in the mountains and demanded he give himself up, that not only Borke, but you as well, opened fire on the troopers?”
“I didn’t want to be thrown behind bars, is all. Besides, we gave up, didn’t we? And later I helped the soldier boys track Zach King down. That ought to count for something.”
“I’m glad you brought that up,” Stanley said. “Isn’t it true, Mr. Hyde, that you hold a long-standing grudge against the King family? That, in point of fact, Nate King once stopped you from beating your Indian wife at a rendezvous, and you’ve hated him ever since?” Stanley had Lou to thank for that interesting tidbit.
“Objection!” Arthur Hunnicut cried. “I fail to see how that is pertinent.”
“Sustained,” Judge Hardesty ruled.
Stanley smiled at the jury and returned to the defense table. Hopefully, he had planted seeds of doubt in their minds. If not, Zachary King’s fate was sealed.
Eighteen
At Arthur Hunnicut’s request, Judge Hardesty called for an hour recess. “We will reconvene at eleven a.m. sharp. I suggest those who are hungry find something to eat beforehand because I do not plan to call for a break at midday. We will continue proceedings straight through the afternoon, and barring unforeseen developments, I expect to hand the case to the jury for deliberation before the day is done.”
Stanley was out of his chair before Hardesty could strike his gavel. “Your Honor! The defense hopes to call several witnesses whose whereabouts are at present unknown. I planned to ask to be granted time to track them down.”
“They have until the end of court today to appear,” Hardesty said. “That is all the time I’ll allow!”
Sinking into his chair, Stanley looked at Zach. “I’m sorry, Mr. King. They thwart me at every turn. Justice is being consumed by the flames of expediency.”
“Which is your way of saying they’re out to nail my hide to the wall and won’t let anyone stand in their way.”
“Judge Hardesty and Colonel Templeton both mentioned the army is out to make an object lesson of you,” Stanley said, and rested his chin in his hand. “They’re doing a thorough job of it, too, I’m sad to say.”
“I can’t help wonder if there’s not more to this,” Zach remarked.
“How do you mean?”
“Why this particular incident? There have been scores of clashes between whites and Indians the past few years. Fights where a lot more whites lost their lives than at the trading post. So why make a fuss over this one?”
“Perhaps it’s the timing. Word is, emigrants will soon pour across the plains in droves. The government wants to reassure them that hostilities of this nature are being discouraged.”
“Then why not take a case to trial that involves emigrants? Not that long ago a wagon train was nearly wiped out by renegades but the army never did a thing.”
“If they’re singling you out for some other reason, I’m at a loss to know what it is,” Stanley said. But he had to admit Zach might have a point. “I could delve into it, given time, but time is the one thing Judge Hardesty is loath to grant us.”
“You’re doing a fine job,” Zach said. “I have no complaints.” He rose. “Can you arrange for me to talk to Lou before we’re called back to court?”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Stanley left his valise on the table and went down the hall in search of General Risher to ask permission. The general had sat directly behind the prosecution’s table all morning, following the proceedings intently. But now Stanley didn’t see Risher anywhere.
He had turned to go back when a door at the top of the stairs opened and laughter floated down. It was the door to the judge’s private quarters, and the man laughing loudest was General Risher.
Stanley climbed to the second floor and looked both ways. The hallway was empty. He went to rap on the judge’s door and heard voices, then more laughter.
“It couldn’t be going any better!” General Risher declared. “And I couldn’t be any more pleased.”
“Just so you keep your promise and I’m chosen for an appeals court bench in Washington, D.C.,” Judge Hardesty said. “From there it’s only a few short years and a willing President to a seat on the Supreme Court.”
“We never forget our friends. Nor our enemies.”
Stanley again glanced both ways. The hall was still deserted. He held his fist poised to knock, but didn’t. What he was doing was unethical but he wanted to learn more if he could.
“Just remember, General. Our deal holds no matter what the jury decides. I can’t control how the jurors think.”
“All we ask is that you continue to muzzle the defense,” General Risher said. “You’ve done an excellent job so far.”
Who is this “we”? Stanley wondered. He would have listened longer but just then he spotted Arthur Hunnicut coming down the hall. To keep Hunnicut from guessing that he was eavesdropping, he rapped on the door.
Judge Hardesty, still in his robe, opened it, but only halfway so Stanley couldn’t see inside. “Yes?”
“Have you seen General Risher by any chance, Your Honor? I would like to ask permission for my client to talk with his wife.”
“I haven’t seen him, no,” Hardesty lied. “If I do, I’ll let him know you’re looking for him.”
“Thank you.” Stanley turned to go down the stairs just as Arthur reached him.
“Well done this morning, Stan. You had Jacob Hyde sweating for a while, although what you hoped to prove eludes me.”
“I do what I can, Art.” Smiling, Stanley hurried down. His mind was awhirl with the implications of what he had overheard. Everything had been stacked against him from the start, deception piled on deception until his client didn’t stand a chance of acquittal. It made him so mad he could hit something.
Stanley believed in the law. He believed in the principles of fairness and truth. And here he was, embroiled in a case in which fairness had been trampled and truth thrown out the window. By God! he thought. I’m not going to stand still for it!
When court reconvened, Judge Hardesty asked if the prosecution had more witnesses to present, and Arthur said no. “And you, Mr. Dagget?” Hardesty asked. “Have those witnesses for the defense arrived?”
“They have not, Your Honor,” Stanley said, “but I would still like to call three people to the stand, starting with Mrs. Zachary King.”
Lou did better than Stanley dared hope. She sat straight and prim, her hands folded in her lap, and answered his questions sincerely and openly. He had her go over the series of events from the time Lieutenant Pickforth arrived until Zach was captured, then focused on Pickforth and her belief that he had developed an improper interest in her.
“And what makes you so certain, Mrs. King, if he never came right out and professed his fondness for you?”
“A woman always knows,” Louisa said.
Arthur had been taken aback by the line of questioning but now jumped up and bawled, “Objection, Your Honor! The defense is off on a tangent that leads we-know-not-where and has no relevance whatever.”
“Sustained. Defense counsel’s question and the witness’s answer will be stricken from the record and the jury is instructed to forget them.”
Stanley smiled. As every lawyer knew, whenever a judge told a jury not to dwell on something, they dwelled on it. It was basic human nature. He had planted another seed. “That will be all, Mrs. King. At this time the defense would like to call her husband, the defendant, Zachary King, to the stand.”
Zach hobbled to the chair and sat down. He had combed his hair and washed his face, as Stanley had advised, and held his head high.
“In your own words, Mr. King,” Stanley began, “I would like you to tell the court about the Ham’s Fork Trading Post and the events that led up to the fight.”
In a calm and matter-of-fact tone, Zach went over everything, from the arrival of the whites at Ham’s Fork to the selling of liquor to the Indians despite a promise by Artemis Borke not to, to the subsequent attempts on the life of Touch The Clouds.
Arthur objected at every opportunity. Nine times out of ten Judge Hardesty sustained him. But Stanley forged on. He continued to ask probing questions, continued to elicit responses that showed the jury there was more to the case than the random act of a violent renegade.
Stanley saved his best for last. “That’s about all, Mr. King. But before you step down, I have one last question.” He faced the jury. “A lot has been made of the fact that my client is of mixed parentage. That he is a half-breed. As if that alone were sufficient to explain his presumed rampage. But I ask you esteemed gentlemen of the jury to consider a fact that has been overlooked.” Without looking at Zach, he said, “Mr. King, we all know that your mother is Shoshone and you are one half Indian. But what is your father?”
“A white man.”
“And what does that make you? Half Indian and half—”
“White.”
“Would you say that again for the benefit of any on the jury who might have missed it?”
“I am half white.”
“White,” Stanley stressed, and turned. “You may step down.”
Judge Hardesty was frowning. “I still intend to wrap this up today, counselor, so if you have a third witness to call, I suggest you do so.”
“Very well, Your Honor.” Stanley walked to the defense table. “I would like to call to the stand General Terrence Risher.”
Nearly all eyes swung toward the general. Whispering broke out, and Judge Hardesty pounded the gavel for silence.
As for Arthur Hunnicut, he nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste to rise. “Objection, Your Honor!”
“On what grounds?” Stanley asked.
Flustered, the best Arthur could do was say, “The general has absolutely no bearing on this case.”
“I beg to differ, Your Honor,” Stanley said to the judge, “and I trust you won’t deny my client his basic right to defend himself to the fullest extent the law allows.”
Now all eyes were on Hardesty, and he didn’t like it. “Very well. You may proceed. But I warn you, counsel. If his testimony isn’t relevant, you will be cited for contempt.”
General Risher walked stiffly to the stand and was duly sworn in. He glared defiantly as Stanley approached.
“Please forgive my imposing on you, sir,” Stanley said, “but would you tell this court where you are currently assigned?”
“Washington,” Risher said curtly.
“That would be Washington, D.C., would it not? Our nation’s capital?”
“Is there any other?”
The sarcastic reply drew a few laughs, and the judge smacked his gavel.
“So you are not assigned to Fort Leavenworth?” Stanley asked.
“I just said I wasn’t.”
“You came all the way from Washington for the express purpose of attending this trial, is that not so?”
“What of it?” General Risher guardedly asked.
“Oh, nothing. Nothing at all. Except one can’t help but wonder why. To what end did the army need someone of your rank to be here?”
“This is a special case. A landmark, you might say. The army wants to ensure justice is done on behalf of those King butchered, and their families.”
“You’re saying, then, that the army believed Mr. King to be guilty before he ever came to trial?”
Arthur’s screech rose to the ceiling. “Objection, Your Honor! Once again the defense is indulging in supposition.”
“Am I, Your Honor?” Stanley was quick to say. “The general himself just referred to my client as a butcher.”
More whispering erupted. Judge Hardesty had to bang the gavel a dozen times to restore order. “The objection is overruled,” he said, but the look he bestowed on Stanley betrayed which side he favored.
“Thank you.” Stanley glanced at the jury. They were hanging on every word. It was time to go for the jugular. “Now then, General. I remind you that you are under oath.” He paused. “Isn’t it true you were sent here to have Mr. King found guilty by any and all means necessary?”
“No,” General Risher said.
“And isn’t it also true that you arranged for the best lawyer in the territory to represent the prosecution and the lawyer with the worst record to represent Mr. King?”
“No.”
“And isn’t it further true that you promised the judge a judicial appointment in Washington if he would do all in his power to put a noose around Mr. King’s neck?”
General Risher came half out of his chair but sat back down, his face a vivid red. “No, that is not true, damn you!”
Bedlam gripped the onlookers. Shouts were exchanged, and a few boos directed at the witness stand. The judge banged his gavel so furiously, he broke it, and had to take another from a drawer.
The moment order was restored, Stanley declared, “The defense retracts its last question, Your Honor, and begs the court’s indulgence.”
“Indulgence, hell. The bench fines you one hundred dollars for contempt and another four hundred for your outrageous allegation. I should haul you up before the bar.”
“Very well, Your Honor,” Stanley said, knowing full well Hardesty would do no such thing. The judge couldn’t risk a formal investigation.
Tension crackled as the summations were presented. Arthur’s was brilliant, as always. He portrayed Zach King as a cold-blooded white-hater gone amok. “Justice demands that you find him guilty,” he told the jury. “That you send a clear-cut message to others of his ilk. That you do your duty by your country and your race.”
Then it was Stanley’s turn. He stepped to the jury box, leaned on the rail, and smiled. “Did you hear my learned adversary? Since when does race determine a person’s guilt? Yes, Mr. King is half Shoshone. He is also half white. But more than that, he is a man who has been wronged. Put yourself in his place. Would you stand by and do nothing while your relatives and friends were being murdered? Would you stand idle when your wife was kidnapped from your very home? I dare say you would not. And if you wouldn’t, then how can you, in all fairness, find Zach King guilty of doing what you yourselves would do?”
Stanley let them absorb that a few moments. “I know that each of you has lost someone to Indian deprivations. That’s quite remarkable, when you think about it. So many of you on the same jury. And I know that when you think of those you lost, you burn inside for vengeance. That’s only normal. So let us suppose for a moment that you went out and exacted your revenge. Should you then be hauled into court and hung? Is that right? Again, I say to you it is not. Again, I say that what is fair for you should also be fair for Zachary King. Look into your hearts, gentlemen, and be true to the principles on which our great country was founded. I urge you to find my client innocent of all charges. Not to condone what he has done, but to show to the entire world that America recognizes the basic right of all citizens to defend themselves and their loved ones, and that the fair and just rule of law reigns supreme in our courts.”
There was a smattering of applause. Judge Hardesty sent the jury off to begin deliberations and adjourned the court. “We will reconvene when a verdict is reached.” He slammed his gavel, glared at Stanley, and departed.
Zach King offered his hand, and as they shook, he remarked, “No matter what they decide, I have no complaints about how you handled yourself. No one could have done better.” The soldiers led Zach off.
Stanley began gathering his papers. Only a few people were still in the courtroom and he didn’t hear one of them step to the table.
“I was misinformed about you, Dagget. You’re not the incompetent I was led to believe.”
Stanley turned. “Why, General? At least grant me an explanation. Why in God’s name put him through this hell?”
Risher’s thin lips pinched together. “You’ll never know. No one here will. But there is one thing you can be certain of.”
“What’s that?”
“Today you have made enemies in high places. Influential, powerful enemies. I’m only one of them.” The general spun and walked briskly away.
Stanley took his time. He suddenly felt tired, so very tired, drained physically and emotionally. His valise felt five times heavier as he trudged down the hall and out into the bright afternoon sun. He was squinting at the sky, waiting for his eyes to adjust, when the door opened and the bailiff called his name. “Yes?”
“The jury has reached a verdict, sir.”
“Already?” Stanley was stupefied. It had barely been fifteen minutes.
Many of the spectators were on the steps or lingering below, and as word spread, they streamed inside.
Stanley hurried to his table. Louisa was in the front row, and he smiled encouragement although the pit of his stomach was in a knot.
General Risher was conspicuous in his absence.
Soon Zach shuffled in, under guard, and shortly after him, Arthur Hunnicut arrived, nearly out of breath.
That left the judge. Hardesty claimed his seat with as much dignity as his bulk allowed, then rapped his gavel. “This trial is once again in session. Bailiff, if you would bring in the jury.”
In they filed, as somber a bunch as Stanley ever set eyes on. He tried to read the verdict in their faces but couldn’t.
As soon as they were seated, Judge Hardesty stared down at them. “Gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict on the various charges against Zachary Raphael King?”
