Read Online A Far Justice by Richard Herman - Free Book Online Page B

come in.” She led them into her corner office with its panoramic view of The Hague, the beach at Scheveningen, and the North Sea. She offered them chairs and sat behind her huge black-lacquered desk. Assuming that Hank did not speak French, she reverted to that language. “One word from me, Melwin, and we will crush you like a grape.” Then, in English, “As your country is not a member of the court, Monsieur Sutherland, your serving on the defense is quite impossible.”
    The last of Melwin’s backbone crumbled. “It was all a misunderstanding,” he said.
    “What misunderstanding?” Hank asked. “The registrar was officially notified Friday, per the rules of the court. By the way, where’s the evidence?”
    “It will be released at the proper time,” Denise replied. “As for the registrar, Alex has merely to file a letter of removal.”
    “Of course,” Melwin said. “The first thing Monday morning.”
    Hank sighed and stood to leave. “Melwin, you have the backbone of an amoeba. Madam Prosecutor, you are making a big mistake.”
    Denise came out of her chair. “Do not threaten a member of this court. I’ll have you declared a persona non grata and removed from the country.”
    “Offering advice is not making a threat,” Hank replied. “See you in court.”
    “That will not happen,” Denise called to his back as he left.
    Hank closed the door gently behind him and stood for a moment, taking stock of her assembled staff. Judging from the expressions on their faces, they had heard every word. He smiled at them. He had read five of their opinions and briefs and was not impressed. For all its faults, the American legal system did have a way of pigeonholing the weak and incompetent, and he knew pigeons when they were roosting, or in this case, molting. They were in for some rough times. A man who looked totally out of place came through the glass doors and spoke to the receptionist. Hank pulled the percom out of his pocket and held it casually in his left hand so the ruby lens pointed to the newcomer.
    “That,” Cassandra’s voice said in his ear, “is Superintendent Hans Blier of the Hugo de Groot prison where Colonel Tyler is being held.” Hank shook his head at the irony of the prison being named after Grotius, the founder of international law. Or maybe the Dutch did have a sense of humor. He pushed his way through Denise’s staff and headed for the elevator.
    “Cassandra,” he said aloud, “I’m striking out here. It’s time for Plan B.”
    “Which is?” she asked.
    “It’s time to go to the media.”
    “I can arrange it. I assume you intend to burn some bridges.”
    “They’re already in ashes,” Hank replied. “I intend to build new ones. According to Gus’s file, his son is stationed in Belgium. I need to get him involved.”
    “I’ll put you in contact,” Cassandra replied.
     
     
    As one, Denise’s staff watched Hank as he disappeared down the hall. They were amused by the way he talked to himself. The intercom buzzed. “Will all department heads and Superintendent Blier please come to the conference room immediately.” Blier, the assistant prosecutor, and six department heads obediently filed into the conference room. Melwin stood in the corner, a very chastened schoolboy.
    “Please remain standing,” Denise told them. “This won’t take long.” She paced the floor. “We haven’t seen the last of Sutherland. Given the high level of media interest, I expect to see him next on television. We’re going to take the initiative and make him respond to us, not the other way around. Therefore, we’re going to trial as soon as possible, not later than Wednesday, December first.”
    “Five weeks!” the assistant prosecutor protested. “We need at least a year.”
    “Then don’t let things get out of hand,” she replied sweetly. Her voice hardened.
    “I set the agenda and drive events, not that …” She almost called Sutherland a trou du col , asshole, but