High Crimes

“No, Your Honor,” Claire said before Farrell had a chance to respond. “I don’t have to do that, and I’m not going to. The prosecution isn’t entitled to a preview of my cross-examination. For God’s sake, we put this exact MFR in our discovery request — we named it specifically! — and the government, in effect, made a written denial that it even existed! I got this after their written denial; this document is a photocopy from the CIA operational files, fully marked with a complete chain of custody, and that’s all I’m going to say.”

“The CIA!” Waldron stammered, looking at Claire. Why was he so astonished? she wondered.

Farrell was clearly taken aback by the whole business, by how quickly the tables had turned, by the spectacle of an entire courtroom watching a four-star general lie under oath. Everything the judge said on the record was going to be scrutinized minutely. He had to tiptoe, and he knew it. He popped open a Pepsi and swigged long and hard.

“Mr. Trial Counsel,” Farrell said, “it’s your witness, and it was your job to find that document, so I’m not inclined to help you out here.”

In the meantime, Jerome Fine, the general’s counsel, had moved a chair right next to the general’s on the witness stand, and the two of them were conferring in whispers.

“General,” Claire said, approaching him, “is that your attorney there?”

Marks seemed vaguely amused. “Yes, it is.”

“And what’s his name?”

“Jerome R. Fine. He’s the army general counsel.”

“Hmm. Interesting, General, that you have your attorney sitting right next to you. Do you feel you have something to hide?”

He smiled and said with a low chuckle, “Not at all.”

“Now, General, prior to your testifying here today, did you review the testimony you gave before Congress when you were confirmed as chief of staff of the army?”

Marks hesitated but a moment. “Yes.”

“Your attorney advised you to do that, didn’t he?”

“Ms. Chapman,” the general said hotly, “I don’t have to tell you anything that my attorney and I discussed.”

“Ah, but I’m afraid you do.” She glanced at Jerome Fine, who looked uneasy. “You see, General, we can call Mr. Fine to the stand right after you — nothing you two have talked about is privileged, since he works for the United States of America. Not for you.”

The general looked at his lawyer, who gave a tiny nod.

“So perhaps you can answer my question, General. Did your attorney advise you to review your congressional testimony?”

A pause. The lawyer nodded again. “Yes, he did.”

“Now, General Marks, did you tell your attorney that the memorandum for the record you wrote immediately after the incident at La Colina had been destroyed, as far as you knew, and that you didn’t remember its contents?”

Marks turned again to Judge Farrell. “Do I have to answer that, Your Honor?”

“Yes, you do,” Farrell replied.

“Yes, I did tell him that,” Marks replied, “but that was my recollection—”

“Thank you,” Claire interrupted. “General, did you ever tell your wife about the alleged massacre at La Colina?”

“My wife?” Incredulous, he turned back to the judge. “Your Honor, I don’t have to answer questions about my personal life, do I?”

“Yes, General, you do,” the judge said evenly.

Raising his voice a few decibels, Marks said tartly, “My wife and I never discuss this sort of thing.”

“Oh? And what sort of thing is that?”

“Covert actions—”

“And was the incident at La Colina a ‘covert action’?”

“Don’t twist my words,” Marks snapped. “That massacre was the most godawful tragic thing that ever happened during my—”

“And you mean to tell us you didn’t tell your wife about this most godawful tragic thing?”

He hesitated.

“Or did you lie to her, too?”

“I have never lied about La Colina!” Marks thundered.

“Oh, no? You lied to Congress, didn’t you? Isn’t it a fact that when you were asked about this incident by the Senate during your confirmation, you gave a version entirely contradicted by the MFR you wrote? You lied to Congress, did you not?”

“I do not have to take this!” Marks shouted. “I have dedicated over thirty years of my life to serving the Constitution of the United States and the people of this country—”

“General,” said his attorney, grabbing his arm.

“But you lied to Congress, General, did you not?” Claire persisted.

“I do not have to take that from someone like you!” Marks shouted, half rising from his seat. His face was crimson. “You’re out of line!”

“General, please!” his attorney said, tugging at Marks’s arm to pull him back into his seat.

“What does that mean, someone like me?” Claire asked with a faint smile. “A defense attorney doing her job? Protecting a client falsely accused of murders he did not commit? That you might have had a hand in as an accomplice—?”

“Objection!” shouted Waldron.

“This is an obscenity!” thundered Marks.

“Move on,” Judge Farrell said.

“General,” Claire said in a ringing voice, “you lied to Congress, did you not?”

There was a moment of silence.