The Sapphire Brooch (The Celtic Brooch Trilogy Book 2) (84 page)

Without a twitch or a blink, Braham said, “Thank you, Mr. Stroker. No further questions.”

“General Holt, do you have further questions of the witness?” General Hunter said.

“Yes, I do. Mr. Stroker, why did you testify you picked up Mr. Booth?”

“Well, sir,” Stroker said, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “The Booth fella, he came out of the house where the colonel and the lady had gone, and he asked for a ride.”

“And did you give him one?”

“No, sir. I told him I was waiting for the colonel. He said thank you and walked on down the street. Real nice like.”

“No further questions.” Dejection was as clear in Holt’s voice as it was on his face.

“Do you have further questions, Colonel McCabe?” General Hunter said.

Braham remained silent a moment, steepling his fingers. “Mr. Stroker, did you hear either Colonel Henly or Mr. Mallory say anything during the ride to the Willard?”

“Yes, sir. The colonel said he’d been a fan of Mr. Booth’s for many years but had never met him.”

“And what did Mr. Mallory say?” Braham asked.

“He had no use for the man and didn’t intend to write a flattering article about him.”

“Thank you. No further questions,” Braham said.

Holt stood. “One final question. You perjured yourself earlier in your testimony, how do we know you’re telling the truth now?”

“I guess you don’t, sir, but I got no reason to say nice things about Mr. Mallory if he’s done what you say he’s done. And the colonel told me if I was confused about what happened that night, then he’d remind me. Thing is…my memory is pretty good, but the colonel wanted me to remember what happened jes’ the way I told you first.”

Holt sat, shaking his head.

“Colonel McCabe, do you have further questions of the witness?” General Hunter’s voice held an exasperated tone.

“Mr. Stroker, is there anything else the colonel asked you not to mention? Like what the two of you were doing yesterday afternoon in Lafayette Park about three o’clock?”

“Objection. Beyond the scope of re-recross-examination,” Holt said.

The witness’s mouth dropped open. “Ah, ah…”

“No further questions,” Braham said, and strode back to their table.

91

Washington City, 1865

G
eneral Holt had
a brilliant legal mind, and had been Lincoln’s chief arbiter and enforcer of military law. He knew not to ask a question if he didn’t already know the answer. Cullen and Braham had bet Holt wouldn’t ask Stroker what he and Henly had been doing at three o’clock on the previous afternoon. If he had asked, Braham and Cullen would have had to adjust their strategy, but as long as Henly was sequestered, they would still have the benefit of surprise during Henly’s cross-examination.

Since Gaylord had not sent a message, Cullen and Braham knew Henly wasn’t aware Charlotte had escaped. He was probably waiting until after his testimony to dispose of her. Just thinking about it had Cullen wishing he’d been given the assignment to cross-examine the colonel, but Braham had assured Cullen his emotions were under control.

Now it was show time.

“Call your next witness,” General Hunter said.

General Holt pointed to the guard standing outside the witness room. “Colonel Gordon Henly.”

Henly limped into the room, grimacing, dressed in a clean, pressed uniform complete with saber and revolver. However, his boots were scuffed and muddy. When he had shaved, he had missed the whiskers close to his ears. His eyes were bloodshot, his face was pinched, and he was breathing heavily. He did not look well.

“Please state your name and current position,” General Holt said.

Unkempt wavy brown hair flowed loose over his collar. “Colonel Gordon Henly, on special assignment to the War Department. I’m currently supervising the discharge of our troops.”

“How long have you been on special assignment?”

“Since I recovered from the wounds I sustained at Cedar Creek and my regiment was given to Colonel Taylor.”

“Are you familiar with the defendant, Jack Mallory?”

His upper lip twitched in disgust. “Yes, sir, I am.”

“Would you tell the court how you met the defendant?”

“I was on my way back to the War Department one afternoon in late December when I saw the defendant’s sister on the corner outside the Willard Hotel. She was sitting on her trunk, left in the cold by the degenerate Mr. Jack Mallory.”

“Objection,” Braham said. “The statement is inflammatory.”

“Sustained. The witness will refrain from characterizing the defendant,” General Hunter said.

“Doctor Charlotte Mallory was sitting unaccompanied in the cold while her brother attempted to secure transportation. I ordered my sergeant to stand guard over her luggage while I escorted her into the hotel, where I subsequently met her brother.”

“And what happened during the meeting at the Willard?”

“Doctor Mallory told me they were staying with her cousin, Major McCabe, and I offered to escort them to the major—excuse me, the colonel’s residence.”

“Did she indicate which one of the colonel’s residences she intended to visit?” General Holt asked.

The spectators’ questioning eyes glanced at Braham. His affluence hadn’t been mentioned in the press before. A number of women smiled shyly. A handsome and wealthy bachelor was always of interest.

“Doctor Mallory and her brother intended to travel to the colonel’s residence in Georgetown. I asked why they weren’t staying in Washington. They were unaware of his townhouse across the street from Lafayette Park, so I escorted them there.”

“And did you have an occasion to recommend Mr. Mallory as a possible contributor to an editor at the
Times
?”

“Mr. Mallory gave me a copy of an article, an unpublished article he had written following the Battle of Cedar Creek. He asked me to show the article to editors I knew who might consider buying one of his stories.”

“And did you have an opportunity to show this article to anyone?”

“I did, and the editor at the
Times
agreed to read it. He said he would consider purchasing articles from Mr. Mallory.”

“And did Mr. Mallory ever sell any articles which you are aware of?”

Beads of sweat dotted Henly’s face, and he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “He has never sold
one
.”

“Objection. Calls for speculation. Unless the witness has read every newspaper around the world, he has no way of knowing how many articles Mr. Mallory has sold,” Braham said.

“Objection sustained. You testimony is limited to your personal knowledge, Colonel,” General Hunter said. “Continue.”

General Holt picked up a sheet of paper and glanced at it briefly. “Tell us about the events of the evening in early February, when you attended the theatre with Doctor Mallory.”

“Doctor Mallory agreed to accompany me to see the comedian J. S. Clarks. After the theater, we had dinner at the Willard, and then I took her back to Colonel McCabe’s residence.”

“And what happened when you arrived at the colonel’s residence?”

“Doctor Mallory and I were standing in the foyer when Mr. Mallory and Mr. Booth came out of one of the rooms, laughing and talking about an event in April. The men were in high spirits until they saw me. They immediately sobered and made quick introductions. Mr. Mallory and Mr. Booth then left. Shortly afterwards, I said goodnight to Doctor Mallory and left.”

“Did you have an opportunity to see the Mallorys on other occasions?”

Henly’s eyes brightened. “I did. They attended the inaugural party. They approached me.” He glanced down at his nails and picked at them, as if the topic of discussion was painfully distasteful. “I felt uncomfortable and escaped their company as quickly as possible.”

General Holt set the sheet of paper aside and accepted another sheet from General Hunter. He pursued it quickly. “Did you notice anything particular about their demeanor during the inaugural evening?”

“They spent an inordinate amount of time staring at President Lincoln and talking behind Dr. Mallory’s open fan.”

“Thank you, Colonel. No further questions.”

“Your witness, Colonel McCabe,” General Hunter said.

Braham sat still as calm water for a long moment. Then he pushed his chair back, scraping the legs across the hardwood floor. He stood, smoothed down his jacket, and approached the witness stand at a leisurely pace. “Colonel, what did you and Doctor Mallory discuss over dinner at the Willard the night in February?”

“We talked about the show, I believe.”

“Were you fond of Doctor Mallory?”

Henly flipped his hand in dismissal and rolled his eyes in disgust. “Not as fond as she was of me.”

“Why not? She’s a beautiful, intelligent woman.”

“Much too strong-willed for me. She lacks discipline.”

Braham folded his arms and his mouth twitched in what might have been a faint smile. “She’s a surgeon, and she lacks discipline? Would you be more specific?”

Despite Henly’s obvious efforts at self-control, his frame was quivering with indignation. “She told me medicine was the most important thing in her life and she never intended to marry.”

Cullen was as enthralled with the testimony as was the rest of courtroom, which usually buzzed with side conversations. Now every eye and ear was focused on the exchange between Henly and Braham. Newspaper reporters were madly scribbling.

Braham shrugged. “Why did you care whether she intended to marry or not?”

“Because I considered…” Henly paused before starting again. “
I didn’t care
. Considering how strong-willed she is, it’s best she doesn’t impose her will on any suitable gentleman.”

“Like yourself?” Braham asked.

“I will
not
tolerate such behavior.”

“Who do you blame for not squelching her strong will?”

“
Her brother
, of course.”

Braham paused a moment to let the comment sink in. It did. The female spectators were chatting behind open fans covering the lower portions of their faces. Several commission members took deep breaths and eyed General Holt.

“Did you speak to Mr. Mallory about his sister’s behavior?” Braham asked.

“I did. The same night as a matter of fact.” Henly’s voice was unnaturally loud and angry. “I told him he should exercise more control over her.”

“When did this conversation take place?”

“In the carriage.” Henly wiped perspiration from his forehead. “I misspoke. It was later when I ran into him at the Willard.”

Braham steepled his fingers and tapped them together. “So you returned to the Willard after you left Doctor Mallory? If you didn’t ride in the carriage with him back to the Willard, where did you find him? In what room?”

Perspiration popped up on every inch of skin on Henly’s face. “In the billiard room.”

“Going back to earlier in the evening, was there any time during your dinner with Doctor Mallory when you left the table?”

He barked a laugh. “I don’t recall.”

“Isn’t it true you had to restrain Doctor Mallory from going into the billiard room?”

Henly slammed his fist on the railing. “I
told
her brother she was out of line and should be punished.”

Braham turned toward the commissioners with a hint of a smile. “What did you expect Mr. Mallory to do? Turn her over his knee and give her a whooping?”

“Of course not.”

The women in the courtroom giggled.

“Isn’t it true, Colonel Henly, you said to Mr. Mallory, and I quote, ‘A slap never hurt any woman, it keeps her in line.’?”

“No, I did not.”

The commissioners had all turned in their seats to face the witness stand, riveted to the testimony, even those members whose attention usually wandered. Braham raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. It was a planned maneuver to keep Henly in an anxious state.

“Why did Doctor Mallory want to go into the billiard room?”

Henly roared, full of indignation. “
To see you.
”

“Why did you object to Doctor Mallory seeing her cousin?”

“
Ha
. You’re not cousins. You’re…
lovers
.”

Cullen’s heart was thudding at a breakneck pace. The testimony was proceeding exactly as they planned. The next few questions and answers were critical.

“Why would you think we’re lovers? Have you spied on Doctor Mallory’s bedroom?”

“Certainly not.” He punctuated his comment with a wild gesture.

Braham walked over to the defense table and Cullen handed him a small bag. “If you have no interest in Doctor Mallory, why do you care who she takes as a lover?”

There was an audible intake of breath around the room. Braham was besmirching Charlotte’s reputation, but it couldn’t be helped. Cullen prayed she’d forgive them.

“I
don’t
care.” Henly’s voice was tight with suppressed rage.

“Between your command position and when you began your assignment to the War Department, were you offered other opportunities?”

Henly’s nostrils flared. “No.”

“Was there a position working for President Lincoln which you applied for and were passed over in favor of another candidate whom you outranked?”