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Authors: Terry McGowan

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BOOK: The Fall of Chance
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“Couldn’t what? Betray your saviour or live with the guilt? You can’t do both.”

Mélie gave no answer.

“I’ll tell you how I know it could only be you,” Lasper spoke in her silence. “There are only two other candidates. The boy is a child who doesn’t even register the suffering of others, much less care about it. Not to mention, he’s as thick with his friend as it’s possible to get.

“The girl, on the other hand, knows the world and is embittered against it. She’d get satisfaction out of other people having a worse lot than herself. As for revenge, she’s too smart to confess to a crime like this. We may only have one person on trial but it could easily have been four.

“But this girl is thick with someone too, isn’t she? She’s thick with you and ever since the Fall, you’ve had to see your friend in abject misery. And what’s more, you know she’s not the only one. In every disappointed face you remember from that day, you see that misery repeated again and again. You wrote that letter, didn’t you?”

“Yes!” sobbed Mélie. “Yes! I wrote it!” Tears washed down her face in a torrent. They were tears enough to sink Unt; to drown him.

Unt watched Mélie cry and by instinct, wanted to stop it. He wanted to grind Lasper’s victorious face into the floorboards. But there was also a rolling thundercloud of anger descending over him. This was what betrayal meant, true and massive. He’d given her back her life and she’d taken his away. Right then, given the chance, he’d snatch hers back off her once more.

“I think Mr Ostin can have his witness,” said Lasper.

Ostin rose to speak but it was clear he had no strategy for this. Useless as he was, this was a body-blow that anyone would be hard-pressed to defend.

The Defender looked over at Mélie but she was still sobbing. He looked back at Erk and raised an appellant hand in her direction.

“Mrs Mélie, please, compose yourself,” Erk responded to the mime. “The defendant must have the opportunity to cross-examine properly.”

With an effort, Mélie pulled herself upright and mopped at the worst of her tears. She sat there looking wretched, just as she deserved.

“Mrs Mélie,” said Ostin, “I can see you’re full of regret. And so you should be. You’ve piled one lie on top of another and now you’re feeling the crushing weight of all that wrong being brought down upon your head.

“You made a witness statement for an accident which was a lie. You professed to be my client’s friend but that was a lie. And then you wrote that letter and that is one catastrophic lie.

“Not one of your band is blameless for the deception wrought that day but the other three have admitted their part. You, on the other hand, have chosen to level the blame at someone else and what’s worse, you’ve tried to dress it up as something noble.

“What weight can we give to that vile document when all its author has demonstrated is a tendency to lie, lie and lie again. That piece of paper is worthless and so are you. Councillor Lasper has served my client well in unmasking you and your letter as the rubbish that they are.”

At the height of his passion, Ostin paused and took breath. “But this is a cross-examination, so let me ask you a question. You are a wretched excuse for a human being, aren’t you: a traitor and a coward unfit to call yourself a person?”

“Yes!” wailed Mélie, louder even than before. She was utterly ruined now and Unt took bitter pleasure in it.

“I’m through with you,” Ostin told her, “And I’m sure many others will be too.”

Unt was amazed Ostin had done his job well. If he hadn’t quite killed Lasper’s attack, he’d at least blunted it from the killer blow Unt had thought it would be.

“What happened to not pointing fingers?” Unt muttered as Ostin returned to his seat.

“I thought a change of tack was needed,” Ostin was almost panting from the exertion. “They’ll call you next. It’s all riding on you now. Are you ready?”

Unt was staring across the court where Mélie was being lead away. There are some sounds that have a frequency beyond what the human ear can detect and there are some images so vivid they can project sound through a vacuum. The pleading look Mélie gave Unt was such an image. It was a scream, begging for forgiveness. Unt met it with a dead expression.

“I’m ready,” he said.

15. Unt

 

 

When Erk called Unt’s name, he had to walk across the floor to take the stand. “Play it straight,” Ostin whispered as he passed.

The empty space was a no-man’s land and Unt felt himself being targeted by a hundred pairs of eyes. When he reached the stand, it felt like finding a scrap of cover to shelter behind.

As ever, Erk began proceedings. “Mr Unt, at the start of this trial you entered a plea of Innocent of Intent. Do you still stand by that plea?”

“I do.”

“The witness evidence today hasn’t affected your resolve?”

“There’s been no evidence to suggest I made a plan or coerced anyone, so no, I’m not affected.” Unt tried to speak with clarity.

“Yes,” said Erk, “The only consistent thing which our witnesses have shown is an inability to account for how the decision to lie was made. That, to me, suggests deliberate instruction and that in turn implies guilt.”

“If you’re going to convict me on the basis that there’s no evidence, what chance do I have?” countered Unt.

Erk frowned but had no come-back. “You make your point well,” he admitted. “Perhaps you can do the same for Councillor Taylor.”

“I’m sick of asking this so I want a straight answer,” said Taylor without waiting. “What’s your version of what happened at the river?”

Unt shrugged. “The girls fell in, I pulled them out, I gave them first-aid and Bulton helped.”

“That’s it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then what about the discussion of who would take credit?”

“I suggested it.”

“You did?”

“Yes.”

“When?”

“When Bull said I’d be awarded. My reaction was I didn’t want it so I let Bull take it instead.”

“And when did you discuss it with the girls?”

“Like the others, I don’t know exactly. It was a conversation from months ago: I don’t know who said what. I didn’t push it, I promise that, but if you’re looking for a prime mover, it was me who started it when I spoke to Bulton.”

“You know what?” said Taylor. “I actually feel grateful to you for being direct. I’m not even going to push my luck. I’ll pass you on to the next victim.”

Pello took the next questions and they centred around Mélie. “How did you feel when you discovered she had written the accusation? Shocked?”

“Yes.”

“Angry?”

“Absolutely.”

“Yes,” said Pello, “Mr Ostin did a very good job of projecting that anger. It was a most impressive performance.” The little man looked disapproving.

“But I must ask,” he continued, “That despite the damage she’s caused you, did she not have a point? The motive she gave was one of overwhelming guilt. Did you feel guilt at all?”

“Of course I did,” said Unt. “I still do.”

“If you could revisit that day and take it back, would you?”

“Yes.”

“Then why haven’t you owned up before this point?”

“Before the Fall, I didn’t think anything of it and afterwards, I was scared. I didn’t think on to the consequences beforehand and later on, I didn’t know how to put things right.”

“Do you think, maybe, that Mélie was trying to put it right?”

By stabbing me in the back
? Unt wanted to ask, but he held his tongue. A reluctant part of him even admitted privately that Pello had a point.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“Maybe,” said Pello, “She was even being a little bit brave.”

“I don’t think she was brave,” said Unt, “She tried to hide her identity and point blame from the shadows.” He paused. “But at the core, she was doing the right thing and I wish it had been me who’d done it.”

Another Councillor might have pounced on that and asked why he didn’t then, but Pello just smiled and told Erk he was finished.

“Councillor Lasper, your witness,” said Erk.

This was the moment Unt had been dreading. This was Lasper’s chance to attack him directly and doubtless he’d made plans. The one saving grace was that it would be Hodd, not Lasper who quizzed him last. The person who got the final word would set the mood for the verdict and he’d take Hodd for that role any day.

Right now, he had Lasper to deal with and he was coming out of his corner with the energy of a prize-fighter. Unt went forward to meet him head-on.

“Why did you lie?” Lasper asked quickly.

“Because I didn’t want the limelight,” Unt replied.

“Why on earth not?” said Lasper. “You’d done a great thing.”

“I just didn’t,” said Unt.

“Insufficient,” said Lasper.

“I just wanted to be able to forget it.”

“Come on, Mr Unt. I want a reason.”

Unt stared hard at Lasper. “Because my parents drowned in that river. This was too much like it. I couldn’t bear to think about it.”

Unt had been waiting to play that card. Not that he didn’t feel it, or that it was untrue, but he hoped he’d get sympathy for being orphaned. Lasper though, perhaps sensing it, moved rapidly on.

“Was it your intention to help Mr Bulton or was that an afterthought?”

“It was an afterthought.”

“An afterthought?” crowed Lasper. “That implies a first thought and I’ll bet that thought was centred around your own post.”

“There was no first thought,” said Unt, “And I wasn’t even thinking about my own position.”

“Come on,” said Lasper. “Do you expect us to believe that you thought about your friend but not yourself?”

“I only wanted to avoid attention.”

“But your future profession never crossed your mind?”

“No.”

“I don’t see how that’s possible.”

“You probably put more emphasis on your career than I do,” said Unt.

Lasper cocked his head. “We have different priorities, you think?”

“I’m sure of it.”

Lasper seemed to ponder that. “Maybe so,” he said slowly, “Even so, you’re a clever boy. I’m sure you considered all angles.”

“I didn’t consider it.”

“That’s hard to believe. You have a mind analytical enough to get you a Councillor’s post.”

“But we’re here because I didn’t earn it.”

“We’re here because you didn’t want to be a Medic.”

“I wanted to be-”

“A farmer, we know. I don’t believe that: I think you wanted to be a Councillor.”

“I had no more desire to be a Councillor than I did to be a Medic.”

“You’re absolutely certain that you didn’t act on professional ambitions?”

“Yes.”

Lasper looked pleased. “Then we must look for motive elsewhere.” He hooked his thumbs in the seams of his robes. He seemed to swagger while standing perfectly still.

“I should thank you,” he said, “for pointing out that not everyone lives and dies by their career. Over the course of today, I think we’ve all been blinded by a focus on your profession. We, as Councillors, probably love our jobs too dearly to see past that error. But there are other kinds of love, aren’t there, Unt?”

“Love?”

“Yes, love. There are, after all, two sides to the Fall. You have convinced me, Unt, that you didn’t want to be a Councillor. For you, it was just a means to an end.”

“I don’t follow,” was going to be Unt’s response but he checked it. He did follow, all too well. Lasper was leading him on. He was trying to get Unt to set up his questions for him. Unt felt a deep chill run though him as he saw the ambush that Lasper was setting. He wouldn’t help him by running into it.

“From your silence, I take it you know what I’m talking of,” Lasper tried to force the move.

“I’m just waiting for a question.”

“Then I’ll ask you one. Of all the girls who might land your way in the Fall, who did you want the most?”

“Nobody in particular.”

“Your young heart didn’t yearn for one girl above all others?”

“No.”

“What about your wife-to-be?”

It wouldn’t do to be too cagey here. “I liked Crystal a lot,” said Unt, “We all did. But it wasn’t like she was the only girl in the year.”

“I’ll be sorry if your wife’s upset to hear you talk of her in such lukewarm terms,” said Lasper, “But I think I can reassure her.

“You’re not lying when you say she was admired by all the boys. My own son liked her above all others and she liked him in return.

“Imagine how angry it made him, then, to often hear all you other boys assessing her like a piece of meat. I lose count of the times he came home complaining of the conversations he’d overheard. I confess, I found it tiresome at the time, but in light of this trial, I find it suddenly more interesting.

“I can’t say I noted the names of the players as they were told to me but one night I was listening and your name was one of the ones that came up. That was on the eve of the Fall, during the Pride. Do you remember it, Unt?”

“The Pride?”

“Don’t be coy: the conversation.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about you, Mr Bulton and several others talking about which girls you hoped to get in the Fall. Do you remember that?”

“No.”

“You deny it happened?”

“No, I just don’t recall the conversation. Like you say, it was one of many.”

“Just what young men do, hey?” said Lasper.

“Exactly.”

“Exactly,” Lasper turned the word over. “They’re rather boastful these little chats, are they?”

“It’s banter, if that’s what you mean.”

“Full of exaggerated claims?”

“That’s right.”

“And the nature of exaggeration is that it’s far from the truth, isn’t it.”

“I’m not a dictionary, but yes.”

“So what about a boast my son heard you make then? Young Mr Bulton had told you he’d win poor Crystal because he would be a Medic, just like her. Do you remember your response?”

“I don’t remember the conversation - if it happened - or anything in it.”

“Your response, Unt, was that Bulton might be a Medic but you’d be Councillor and then you’d get her before he had the chance. That doesn’t sound like a boast, does it? That isn’t even a little way from the truth: that’s exactly what happened. Quite a remarkable coincidence, isn’t it?”

Unt was back in his cell the night before with two options before him: he could admit the truth and hope to explain it or he could lie and rely on a lack of evidence to keep him safe. He decided to lie.

“It would be remarkable if it had been what I said,” said Unt.

“You deny it?”

“Of course I do. I’m not going to remember saying something that you’ve just made up.”

“This isn’t something imagined,” said Lasper. “It was reported by my son.”

“Who you said you never listened to,” said Unt. “How come you happened to be listening that night?”

“It was the last night before Rob became a man,” Lasper said. “We spoke as men and I listened to his concerns.”

“Councillor,” Erk interjected, “Your personal dislike of the defendant is common knowledge. You were put on this committee based on the understanding that you wouldn’t let your feelings interfere. Personal anecdotal evidence is far too biased for us to consider.”

Lasper seemed not to notice the very public reprimand. “This evidence is from my son,” he said. “I could very easily get him to appear as a witness.”

“He has an interest in this girl. The same bias applies,” ruled Erk.

Lasper nodded. “I see your point, Mr Chairman. In fact, I anticipated it. Mr Pollock got a grilling earlier for not being proactive in his investigation: I, on the other hand, have been.”

When Erk didn’t say anything, Lasper took that as permission to proceed. “Last night, I visited the homes of the five other boys - men, now - who took part in that shameful conversation. Each of them has confirmed what was reported to me. If you like, we could call them to the witness stand instead?”

Lasper spoke to Erk but he was looking at Unt, challenging him. Erk was considering. “Mr Unt, unless you wish to retract your denial, we shall have to hear these witnesses.”

Unt froze. Colun, Mitt and the rest were unreliable witnesses but Lasper would have five chances to try and make it stick. If he gave in now, he lost and looked worse for denying it. If he continued and still lost, it would be even worse.

“Councillor,” Ostin stood up, “May I speak with my client?”

“Very well,” said Erk.

Ostin crossed to Unt and leaned in to whisper. His face was placid - genial even - but his whispered voice was angry. “What the hell are you doing? Is what he’s saying true?”

“Yes,” Unt hissed.

“Then why for Fate’s sake did you deny it? What happened to the strategy of throwing ourselves at their mercy?”

“He can’t prove a thing.”

“What does that matter? I told you you couldn’t lie. Just tell me, given the chance, will these boys sail you up the river?”

BOOK: The Fall of Chance
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