Dead In The Water

CHAPTER 57

Stone looked up and saw Hilary Kramer and Jim Forrester beckoning from the gallery; he walked over and shook hands with them. "I'd be interested to have your opinion of how things went."

"I'd say you're well on your way to an acquittal," Kramer replied.

"Both you and Sir Leslie did a brilliant job," Forrester chimed in. "How can you possibly lose?"

"I'm astonished," Kramer said, "that this case could even have been brought to court with so little evidence, and I intend to say so in my coverage. This could never have come to trial in an American court."

"Unfortunately, we're not in an American court," Stone said.

"Nobody's left the courtroom," Forrester said. "Are you expecting an early verdict?"

Stone nodded. "Leslie says St.Marks juries don't to be late for dinner. An early verdict would not be in our favor, but in this case, I don't know what think. Leslie says that the relationship between individual jurors and Sir Winston is going to be the deciding factor."

"Relationship?" Kramer said. "They have a relatioship with him?"

"It's a small island," Stone said. "If one of them has to fear from Sir Winston, he's unlikely to our way."

"That would be grounds for appeal in the States," Forrester said.

"The appeal here is to the good nature, or perhaps the whim, of the prime minister, who's eighty-nine," Stone said.

"Do you think some of the pressure brought to bear on the government will have some effect on the outcome?" Kramer asked.

Stone shook his head. "I don't know what that pressure could mean to any of the jurors. I'd hoped we Wouldn't have to go to trial." He looked back to the rise table, where Hewitt and Allison were deep in conversation. "Leslie was wonderful, wasn't he?"

"He sure got in his digs at Sir Winston," Forrester agreed.

"Apparently he's spent his life digging at the government," Stone said. "Well, I'd better get back and reassure Allison. Will you both be staying for the verdict?"

"Sure we will," Kramer said.

"See you later, then." Stone walked back to the defense table and sat down. "What have you two been talking about?" he asked.

"I've just been telling Leslie what a wonderful job both of you have done," Allison said, smiling. "After what I've heard here today, I'm very optimistic."

"So am I," Stone said, though he knew he would be uneasy until the jury came in.

"The important thing to remember," Hewitt said, "is that even if the verdict goes against us, it's not over. We still have the opportunity for appeal, and I think our position would be excellent."

"I hope it doesn't go that far," Stone said.

"So do I," Allison echoed. They became silent, each wrapped in his own thoughts. It was growing dark outside, and the bailiff rose from his desk and began turning on lights in the courtroom.

Sir Leslie Hewitt looked at his watch. "Almost nine o'clock," he said. "I must say, I'm encouraged I've never known a jury to stay out this long, so they must be deliberating very diligently."

Most of the spectators had given up and gone home, but the reporters from the Times and The New Yorker still sat in the gallery, waiting.

"I'm hungry," Allison said.

"I wish we could go out to dinner," Hewitt said, "but I'm afraid the bailiff wouldn't allow it. If you want to eat now, I can see that you're fed in a cell."

"No, I'll wait," Allison sighed.

Stone was hungry, too, but he hadn't thought about it until now.

Then, from somewhere beyond the courtroom, a bell rang, something like a big brass schoolyard bell. The bailiff rose and left the room.

"They're coming in," Hewitt said. "Perhaps now we all have dinner together." He smiled at Allison.

The bailiff returned to the courtroom and escorted back to the dock. A moment later, the jury filed in.

"All rise!" the bailiff called out, and when everyone, the judge entered and took his seat.

"Gentlemen, have you reached a verdict?" he asked jury.

The retired tailor rose. "We have, Your Lordship," handing a sheet of paper to the bailiff.

The bailiff took the paper to the judge, who read it without expression. "Read the verdict," he said to the bailiff.

The bailiff held up the paper and read it once to himself, then out loud. "We, a jury of freemen of St.Marks, have considered our verdict in the case of the Government of St.Marks versus Allison Ames Manning. After due we unanimously find the prisoner guilty of murder."

The courtroom erupted in gasps and whispers; there a little scattered applause. Stone felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the courtroom. He turned to Allison and mouthed the words, "Don't worry."

Allison was as white as marble. She sat rigidly, expressioonless, looking straight ahead of her but, apparently, not focusing on anything before her. Finally, she turned and looked desolately at Stone, who mouthed his message again. She nodded, then looked down at her lap.

"Sentence will be pronounced immediately," the judge said, nodding at the bailiff.

Sir Leslie Hewitt was on his feet, in his hand a white envelope sealed with a blob of red wax. "Your Lordship, the defense has prepared an appeal, which we request be sent to the prime minister's residence without delay, and that sentence be postponed until we have heard from the prime minister."

The bailiff took the envelope and delivered it to the judge, who glanced at it and returned it to the bailiff. "Deliver this personally as soon as court has adjourned," the judge said to him, then looked up at Hewitt. "I see no reason to reconvene court at some later time," he said. "Sentence will be pronounced immediately." He nodded to the bailiff.

The bailiff went to a small cabinet under the bench and unlocked it with an old brass key. From the cabinet he removed a fringed cushion that supported a black cloth. He walked around the bench, climbed the few steps, and presented his burden to the judge. The judge took the black cloth from the cushion and placed it atop his wig. "All rise to hear the sentence!" the bailiff called out.

Stone struggled to his feet, along with the rest of the court.

The judge looked at Allison. "The prisoner will rise," he said.

Stone looked over his shoulder at Allison, who was still seated. Her head jerked up, and slowly, she got to her feet. There was fear written across her face.

"Allison Ames Manning," the judge intoned, "you have been found guilty of the crime of murder by a constituted jury of St.Marks freemen. Do you have anything to say before sentence is pronounced?"

Allison looked bleakly at him. "I am innocent," she her voice breaking.

The judge nodded, then continued. "By the power vested in me by the people of St.Marks, I now direct that on the morrow, at the hour of sunset, you be taken from a cell in this building to the inner courtyard, where a scaffold shall have been erected, and be hanged by the neck until you are dead. May God have mercy on your soul."

Allison looked briefly at the wall above the judge; then her eyes rolled up in her head, and she collapsed backward, sending her chair skittering across the floor.

"Court is adjourned," the judge said, then left the bench.

Stone and the bailiff ran for the dock.