Mackenzie Ford - The Clouds Beneath the Sun

The judge nodded.

Hall continued. “As you say, Your Honor, that is all speculation on my part, and I will go no further. I simply repeat my central point: that there is no direct physical evidence to link my client to this crime, that everything presented in this court has been circumstantial, and that, so far as motivation is concerned, no evidence at all has been presented, only conjecture.”

He paused. “In those circumstances, Your Honor, I respectfully submit that any conviction based on such evidence would be unsafe, very unsafe indeed, and I refer you to Regina v. Salter , 1954, and Regina v. McWhirter and others , 1957. It is my submission that, in the case of Regina v. Mutevu Ndekei , my client has no case to answer and that therefore the charges against him should be dismissed, and dismissed immediately, now, this very day.”

He sat down.

For a moment once again, the only sound in court was the judge scribbling in his notebook with his pen.

He finished, carefully screwed the top of his pen back on, put it in his inside pocket, and looked up. “Thank you, Mr. Hall.”

He looked around the court. “Very well. I see it is now time for luncheon. I will consider your arguments over the indifferent cold meats that the court service usually provides, and will give you my decision this afternoon.”

“All rise!” barked the court usher and the judge stood up.

Everyone else did too, the attorneys nodded to Tudor, he nodded back, and then he retired through a polished wooden door behind his chair.

“Now the fireworks start,” said Maxwell Sandys.

“How do you mean?” said Jack.

“Hilary Hall was given a respectful hearing, very respectful by Tudor’s standards, when he tried to argue there’s no case to answer, but if he now attempts to mount a defense based on Maasai law, and in the process Ndekei admits killing Sutton, watch the judge go for him.”

Sandys was standing in the well of the court, surrounded by Eleanor, Natalie, Natalie’s father, Jack, Christopher, and Daniel. Everyone else had gone for lunch.

“But there’s something different about Tudor today, don’t you think?” said Jack. “That quip about ‘indifferent cold meats’ for lunch … very unlike him. If someone else made that sort of remark, he’d see it as bringing the bench into disrepute.”

Sandys shrugged. “That’s just Tudor warming up to get nasty. He’s showing his human side before his monstrous side takes over. He knows this case is high profile, and he knows what his reputation is, so he wants to appear reasonable, leave no room for an appeal on procedural grounds.” He turned to Natalie. “Now, my dear, I don’t think you should stay this afternoon. It could get very stormy in the public galley up above and outside, in the street. Ndekei might even be sentenced to hang today. Who knows when they might choose to take it out on you?”

“Oh, I don’t think—” Natalie began but her father interrupted her.

“He’s right, Tally.”

“In fact, unless Jack wants to stay, to see the storm, he could even fly you back to the gorge this afternoon—that would be safest of all.”

Everyone looked at Jack.

He glanced at his watch. “Let’s see. There’s something I have to do this afternoon, a special, informal meeting of this committee I’m on, to review the news that is coming out of the London independence conference, which started yesterday. That kicks off at 2:30 and shouldn’t take more than an hour. So yes, I can pick Natalie up at the hotel at, say, four. That will give us time to get to the gorge before dark. What about the rest of you?”

Eleanor spoke first. “I want to stay to the end, so does Owen, and so does Daniel, just in case it turns ugly, when having a black African with us may help. Christopher is staying on anyway, to have some flying lessons, now that he is well again.” She turned to Sandys. “You think the trial will end today?”

He shook his head. “I can’t say. It all depends on how Tudor reacts to the defense Ndekei is going to run.” He paused. “But to answer your question, Eleanor, I don’t see how the trial can last beyond tomorrow morning.”

Jack nodded. “I agree I should get Natalie out of harm’s way this afternoon. I’ll fly back tomorrow and collect everyone else.” He addressed his mother. “If there’s any change, you can always radio-telephone me at the camp.”

Eleanor nodded and moved towards Natalie. “Well done, my dear, well done in the witness box, I mean. All that sex talk was quite unnecessary but you managed to remain strong and dignified and put that beastly barrister in his place. What would he know about intellectual passion? Incidentally, sitting with your father in court yesterday and today, we’ve talked a lot and he’s had an interesting idea. He is, as you know, a great admirer of Teilhard de Chardin, the theologian who wanted the church to adapt to developments in paleontology. Chardin is dead, of course, but your father’s given me the idea to invite some religious leaders out to the gorge, people who might feel they are embarrassed by our discoveries, but who might relish the chance to see at first hand what we are doing. People like Paul Tillich and Albert Schweitzer. Having the winner of the Nobel Peace Prize visit the gorge would be a major coup, don’t you think?”

She didn’t wait for an answer. “Anyway, he and I will carry on discussing it and we can all thrash out the details when we are back in the gorge.” She turned to Chistopher. “Are you going to wait with us?”

“No,” he said. “I’m off to the airport. I’ve got a flying lesson this afternoon, and tomorrow and the day after that. I’ll come back to Kihara then.” He patted Natalie’s shoulder. “Well done.”

“Christopher,” said Jack. “If you’re going out to the airport, could you fill my plane with juice? It will save time and Natalie and I need to get to the Kihara strip before dark.”

“Sure,” said Christopher. He kissed his mother and left.

Eleanor turned back to Sandys. “Now, Maxwell, is there anywhere near here we can find a sandwich and a glass of water?”

“I’m ahead of you, my dear. Sandwiches and water are waiting for all of you in my office.” He turned to Natalie. “Well done, again. Enjoy your flight back to Kihara.”

One by one they filed out of the courtroom into the corridor. As Natalie left the courtroom, Richard Sutton Senior rose from the bench he was sitting on and moved in her direction. He was alone; there was no sign of Russell.

She kept going but he stood directly in front of her. He looked down at her, then pulled her sleeve, forcing her to stand to one side.

He spoke softly.

“Did you and Richard—? Were you ever—?”

“No!” Natalie cried, but under her breath. Then, more softly still, “No. Nor, whatever he may have told you, with Russell North.” She shook her head vehemently. “No.”

She stepped around Sutton and tried to walk on but he caught her sleeve again. “You don’t understand.”

His voice had cracked and she stared at him. For once Richard Sutton Senior didn’t look like a self-confident corporate lawyer. He looked like a father who had lost his son.

“For a moment there, in court, I hoped … I dared to hope … Before he came to Africa this time, Richard told me … he was a homosexual.”

Shouting. She was immediately awake. Shouting in the street. Not outside the hotel but some way off. Yet another political demonstration?

As soon as Natalie had reached her hotel room, after the makeshift sandwich lunch in Maxwell Sandys’s office, and while she waited for Jack to collect her after his committee meeting, she had tried to digest Richard Sutton’s bombshell, which confirmed after all what Kees had said. And at the same time she had worked hard to divest herself of her memories of the morning’s proceedings.