Ramage's Trial (45 page)

Ramage nodded, scarcely able to believe his ears. “That's all we need,” he muttered. “Just a fair hearing.” He rubbed the scars on his brow. “Just a fair hearing,” he repeated. “No more, and no less.”

“You're going to get that,” Alexis said. “And I've brought Midshipman Blaxton back with me: he's staying at the King's Arms. I've told him to be waiting at the North Corner in the Dockyard at four o'clock, when you'll send a boat for him. You can talk to him and he'll be ready to give evidence tomorrow. Oh yes, Lord St Vincent has told Captain Markham not to wear uniform. I gather that Rear-Admiral Goddard does not know him by sight, so he's unlikely to recognize him sitting among the spectators in court, and that's so much the better, as far as Lord St Vincent is concerned.”

“Dinner,” Sidney Yorke said. “Nicholas, you are the host and my sister looks exhausted.”

“I am too sleepy to eat,” Alexis said. “Can I sleep here for an hour or two while you dine, then I can go back with Sidney? I'd like to be here to introduce young Blaxton.”

Ramage went to the door and told the Marine sentry to pass the word for the captain's steward, and then he went through to the bed place. The cabin in which he slept was tiny and his bed was the usual cot, a long, open-top box fitted into what was in effect a large hammock which was suspended from the deck beams. The box was fitted with a mattress, and he checked that the sheets were clean.

“Two blankets – will they be enough?”

“Plenty – I'm too sleepy to feel the cold. Wake me when my Mr Blaxton arrives.”

 

Rear-Admiral Goddard looked at each of the captains seated round the table and noted that there were many more spectators sitting in the chairs and forms at the back of the cabin – among them that wretched young woman who had made such a scene the day he adjourned the court. Jenkins was sitting behind his pile of reference books and papers. He saw that Captain Shirley was sitting in the prosecutor's chair and, as usual, staring fixedly at the deck – like, he thought unexpectedly, a man who had dropped a golden guinea and just seen it roll down a crack between two planks. A seam, he corrected himself.

This should be the last day of the trial: Shirley had to make the closing statement for the prosecution; then Ramage had to make his for the defence. Clear the court and let these twelve dunderheads talk about it all, and then, with their verdict returned, twist the sword round so that it pointed to the door, and have Ramage brought back in…

At last he felt cheerful. Swinford, Royce and Huggins had made a lot of trouble at that last session, after the court had been cleared. Fussing about what should be recorded in the minutes and what should not: they were like a trio of virgins pleading for their honour. But they had eventually submitted. A hint that there were many more captains on the Post List than ships for them to command had been enough: they seemed suddenly to be able to understand the position of unemployed virgins…

Goddard waved cheerfully to Jenkins. “Have the prisoner brought in.”

Lieutenant Hill led Ramage to his chair, and when Ramage, after bowing politely to the court, took his seat, Hill sat down behind him.

Goddard spoke the preliminary words declaring the court in session and was just about to call on Captain Shirley to begin his statement when he heard a chair scrape and turned to see Ramage on his feet.

“Well?” Goddard asked coldly. “What now?”

“I have two more witnesses to call before closing my defence, sir,” Ramage said politely.

Goddard raised his eyebrows in feigned surprise. “I thought you'd already called your last witness, that young lady. You made a rather melodramatic gesture of crossing out all the other names on your list. Since
you
crossed out the names, the court is satisfied that it has heard all the witnesses you requested. Jenkins, my understanding of it is correct, is it not? You have no outstanding witnesses waiting to give evidence for Captain Ramage?”

“Indeed not, sir,” Jenkins said unctuously.

Ramage walked the length of the table and put a sheet of paper on the table in front of Jenkins. “Two fresh witnesses,” he said.

Without looking down, Jenkins waited for Goddard who said, before Ramage returned to his seat: “Too late, far too late. A trial would drag on for a month if the court allowed the defence to keep on producing witnesses. Captain Ramage should know,” he added in a patronizing voice, “that that is the reason why the deputy judge advocate writes to the accused before the trial to ask for a complete list of defence witnesses.”

Without sitting down, Ramage said: “With respect, sir, there is nothing in the court-martial statutes that forbids the calling of extra witnesses should further evidence – or witnesses, for that matter – become available.”

“I am the president of the court,” Goddard said heavily, “and the court rules that you have had your chance to call the witnesses you requested.”

“But I am requesting two more, so – with respect – that ruling is hardly fair.”

“I've already explained to you,” Goddard said angrily. “If you forget to put witnesses on your list, it's no good you coming along a fortnight later and making additions. You are overruled, and that's that.”

Goddard was surprised that Ramage did not sit down. Instead he turned to the spectators, and Goddard saw a man nod to him, whereupon Ramage turned back to face the court.

“Sir,” Ramage said politely, “I must with great respect ask you to reconsider your ruling on my request for two more witnesses.”

“You're wasting the court's time,” Goddard snapped. “Sit down: we now have to hear the prosecution.”

Ramage remained standing, his eyes fixed on Goddard. “With your permission, sir, I would like you to hear the opinion of the gentleman sitting in the second row of spectators, the third chair from the far end.”

“Ramage, you strain the court's patience. We were very considerate when that young lady gave evidence; it is sheer impertinence for you to ask the court to listen to some stranger's opinion on a point of law. I presume that's what you intended.”

“I suggest you let the gentleman speak for himself,” Ramage said.

“I'll do no such thing!” Goddard shouted.

“I'll introduce him then,” said Ramage. “The gentleman is one of my Lords Commissioners of the Admiralty, Captain Markham.”

Goddard sat wide-eyed for a full minute, clearly not fully able to comprehend what Ramage had said. Captain Swinford leaned over and whispered to him, pointing at Captain Markham, who was now standing.

Suddenly Goddard pulled himself together. “Captain Markham!” he exclaimed. “All these years in the King's service and I have never had the pleasure of meeting you! Please come over here!”

Goddard's fawning manner had no effect on Markham, who walked up to within a couple of yards of the table – far enough away, Ramage noticed, that Goddard could not attempt to shake his hand.

“Markham,” he introduced himself brusquely. “I'm here by virtue of orders from Lord St Vincent. Apparently the prisoner wants my opinion on the validity of his request for extra witnesses because new evidence has become available since he submitted his first list.” He spoke slowly, glancing at Jenkins, who hurriedly began writing down the words. “It is not a point on which I need give an opinion. I suggest, Admiral Goddard, that you consult the deputy judge advocate – he is there to advise you on points of law and regulations.”

With that Markham turned and went back to his seat, leaving Goddard like a small boy who had just had his hand slapped in front of visitors.

“Ah, Mr Jenkins, of course it was remiss of me not to ask you,” Goddard said. “Are you familiar with this point?”

“Sir, it has arisen before and the ruling is that whether the request is from the defence or from the prosecution, it should be granted – providing the witnesses are available.”

“You heard that, Ramage?
Are
these witnesses available?”

“Yes, sir,” Ramage said. “Mr Jenkins has the list: could the first one be called?”

“Of course, of course!” Goddard said, his voice now friendly and hinting that Ramage had offended him by doubting his intentions.

Ramage looked towards the deputy judge advocate, who was now staring at Ramage's list like a rabbit paralysed by a stoat's stare. Finally he stood up with a muttered: “I think you should see this, sir,” and walked to the head of the table, putting the list in front of Goddard.

The rear-admiral read the two names and glanced sideways to where Markham was sitting. Then, with a show of impatience he returned the list to Jenkins and said loudly: “The defence is entitled to witnesses. Call the first one!”

Jenkins scurried back to his chair, put the list down as though it had suddenly become red-hot and in little more than a whisper said: “Call Captain William Shirley…”

There was a gasp in the court as though half the people present had suddenly been jabbed in the ribs by an elbow. Shirley suddenly sat upright and then, as he saw Jenkins coming towards him with the Bible, stood up.

“There's no need to admininster the oath,” Goddard snapped. “After all, he is the prosecutor.”

Ramage stood up and clasped his hands behind his back. “In this case I must insist upon it, sir. It's customary for all witnesses to give evidence on oath.”

With a nervous glance towards Captain Markham, Goddard motioned Jenkins to carry on. Shirley held up the Bible and read the oath.

Ramage remained standing and waited for Jenkins to return to his seat. The great cabin was silent except for the distant slop of the waves butting the
Salvador del Mundo
's hull, and he asked Captain Shirley the first question.

“Did you on a certain day in June last murder Henry Barker, the surgeon on board His Majesty's ship the
Jason
frigate, which you commanded?”

“Yes,” Shirley said in a conversational voice. “He was irritating me. You see, he continually claimed I was mad; indeed, he wanted to confine me and put the first lieutenant in command of the ship. I couldn't allow that, of course, so I ran him through with m' sword.”

Ramage nodded, as though expecting the answer which had brought a gasp from almost everyone else in the cabin. “Did Barker attack you? Did you act in self-defence?”

“Oh no, I was the captain, you see. But he had been nagging me for weeks.”

“Always claiming that you were mad?”

“Mmm, yes,” Shirley said. “Always the same thing, like a litany. Pity about Barker, he was a good surgeon. But just imagine it, the first lieutenant in command!”

Shirley began to laugh; a laugh which went on and rose in pitch until it was a maniacal scream and the man's face, mouth open and teeth bared, seemed to be a skull over which parchment had been stretched.

Ramage stood still, startled by the man's reaction, and Markham was the first to recover. “You! Provost Marshal!” he shouted at Hill. “Take Captain Shirley into your custody. Guard him carefully: make sure he doesn't harm himself.”

As soon as Captain Shirley was led away, with Goddard still mopping his brow and the twelve captains recovering enough to whisper to each other, Ramage said quietly: “Can my next witness be called?”

Goddard stared at him as though he had burst into song. “But my dear fellow, obviously the case is closed! There is no need for more witnesses!”

Ramage shook his head stubbornly. Goddard was either numbed by what had just happened, or a cunning scoundrel whose brain was working very fast, trying to calculate whether or not Shirley's madness (with his confession made in open court and, thanks to Ramage's insistence, on oath) could affect him.

“With respect, sir, the case against me is most certainly not closed. I am still charged with breaches of various Articles of War, several carrying a mandatory death sentence, and I insist on the opportunity of clearing myself.”

“Quite unnecessary,” Goddard said. “As soon as I clear the court, we shall consider our verdict. In fifteen minutes you will leave the ship a free man without – well, without a stain on your character. As of course,” he added smoothly, “we all knew you would.”

At that moment, Ramage was sure that Goddard was being cunning; that he had not been numbed: he had already calculated that any further evidence given for Ramage would reinforce a case against Shirley, who obviously now faced a charge of murder (and possibly more), and it was in Goddard's interest to stop the proceedings at once.

Ramage finally turned to the spectators. “Captain Markham, I must appeal to you again.”

“No need, no need!” Goddard exclaimed. “No, you are quite right. The court will hear your next witness.”

“Call Midshipman Blaxton,” Jenkins said.

As the young midshipman came into the cabin, Ramage took several sheets of paper from the flat canvas pouch beneath his chair and walked over to Jenkins, who looked up nervously.

“A copy of the questions I shall be asking,” Ramage said.

“Oh – thank you, sir: I am much obliged.”

Blaxton, who was not in uniform, was nervous yet self-possessed. He held up the Bible, read out the oath from the card, and identified himself.

Goddard coughed and said: “The court will question you.”

At once Ramage said: “This is a defence witness and I have prepared questions.” He allowed impatience to creep into his voice as he added: “I am aware of all the circumstances and the court is not, and I know you wish that the witness' knowledge be fully investigated.”

“Oh, very well,” Goddard said sulkily, seeing the trap in front of him, “but of course the court reserves the right to take over the questioning.”

Ramage ignored the remark and asked Blaxton: “Please tell the court of the events concerning the handling of the
Jason
frigate, in which you were serving, in June last.”