Assegai

The officers’ mess had been converted into a courtroom to house the proceedings. The three judges were seated at the high table on the dais. There were two tables below them, one for the defence and the other for the prosecution. It was hot in the small room. On the outside veranda a punkah-wallah heaved regularly on the rope that disappeared into a hole in the ceiling above him, and from there over a series of pulleys to the fan hanging above the judges’ table. Its blades whirred monotonously, stirring the languid air into an illusion of cool.

Sitting beside Bobby Sampson at the defence table, Leon studied the faces of his judges. Cowardice, desertion, dereliction of duty and failing to obey the orders of a superior officer: all of the crimes with which he was charged carried the maximum penalty of execution by firing squad. The skin of his forearms prickled. These men held over him the power of life and death.

‘Look them in the eye and speak up,’ Bobby whispered, holding up his notepad to conceal his lips. ‘That’s what my old daddy always told me.’

Not all of his judges looked human and compassionate. The senior man was the Indian Army colonel who had come by rail from Mombasa. It seemed that the journey had not agreed with him. His expression was sour and dyspeptic. He wore the flamboyant uniform of the 11th (The Prince of Wales’ Own) Bengal Lancers. There were two rows of decoration ribbons on his chest, his riding boots gleamed and the tail of his multi-coloured silk turban was thrown back over one shoulder. His face was flushed by the sun and whisky, his eyes were as fierce as a leopard’s, and the tips of his moustache were waxed into sharp points.

‘He looks a right man-eater,’ Bobby whispered. He had been following Leon’s gaze. ‘Believe me, he’s the one we have to convince, and it’s not going to be easy.’

‘Gentlemen, are we ready to begin?’ boomed the senior judge, and turned his cold, slightly bloodshot eyes on Eddy Roberts at the prosecution table.

‘Yes, Colonel.’ Roberts stood up respectfully to reply. He was Froggy Snell’s favourite, which was why he had been selected.

The president looked at the defence table. ‘What about you?’ he demanded, and Bobby leaped to his feet with such alacrity that he sent his carefully arranged pile of papers cascading on to the floor. ‘Oh, dearie me!’ he stuttered and dropped to his knees to gather them up. ‘I beg your pardon, sir.’

‘Are you ready?’ Colonel Wallace’s voice was as loud as a foghorn in the confines of the small room.

‘I am, sir. I am indeed.’ Bobby peered up at him from the floor, clutching his papers to his chest. He was blushing rosily.

‘We haven’t got all week. Let’s get on with it, young fellow.’

The adjutant, serving as clerk and court recorder, read the list of charges, then Eddy Roberts came to his feet to open the case for the prosecution. His manner was relaxed, and he spoke clearly and convincingly. The judges followed his address with attention.

‘Damn me, but Eddy’s rather good, what?’ Bobby fretted.

After his preamble Eddy called Major Snell, his first witness, to the box. He led him through the charge sheet and had him confirm the details set out in the document. Then he questioned him on the accused’s service record and the performance of his duties up to the time when he was sent to guard the boma at Niombi. Snell was too sly to let his evidence seem one-sided and prejudiced against Leon. However, he managed to make his qualified and lukewarm assessments seem like damning condemnation.

‘I would reply to that question by saying that Lieutenant Courtney is a skilled polo player. He also evinces a passion for big-game hunting. These activities take up much of his time when he might be better employed elsewhere.’

‘What about his other behaviour? Have you been made aware of any social scandal surrounding his name?’

Bobby jumped to his feet. ‘Objection, Mr President!’ he cried. ‘That calls for conjecture and hearsay. My client’s conduct when off duty has no bearing on the charges before the court.’

‘What do you say to that?’ Colonel Wallace turned his searching glare on Eddy Roberts.

‘I believe that the accused’s integrity and moral character have a direct bearing on this case, sir.’

‘The objection is denied and the witness may reply to the question.’

‘The question was . . .’ Eddy pretended to consult his notes ‘. . . are you aware of any scandal surrounding the name of the accused?’

It was what Snell had been waiting for. ‘As a matter of fact there has recently been an unfortunate incident. The accused became involved with a young gentlewoman, a widow. So blatantly scandalous was his behaviour that it brought the honour of the regiment into question, and enraged the local community. The governor of the colony, Sir Charles Eliot, had little option but to arrange for the lady in question to be repatriated.’

The heads of the three judges turned to Leon, their expressions forbidding. It was only a few years since the death of the old queen, and despite the racy reputation of her son, the reigning sovereign, the older generations were still influenced by Victoria’s strict mores.

Bobby scribbled on his notepad, then turned it so that Leon could read what he had written. ‘I am not going to cross-examine on that issue, agreed?’

Leon nodded unhappily.

After a long pause to let the importance of that testimony register with the judges, Eddy Roberts picked up a thick book from the desk in front of him. ‘Major Snell, do you recognize this book?’

‘Of course I do. It’s the battalion order book.’

Eddy opened it at a marked page and read aloud the extract that covered Leon’s orders to take his detachment to Niombi boma. When he had finished he asked, ‘Major Snell, were those your orders to the accused?’

‘Yes.’

Eddy quoted once again from the open page of the order book: ‘ “You are ordered to proceed with utmost despatch . . .” ’ He looked up at Snell. ‘With utmost despatch,’ he repeated. ‘Those were your precise instructions?’

‘They were.’

‘In the event the accused took eight days to make the journey. Would you consider that he acted “with utmost despatch”?’

‘No, I would not.’

‘The accused has given as his reason for his tardiness the fact that en route to Niombi he came across the tracks of a rebel war-party and felt it his duty to follow them up. Would you agree with him that it was his duty?’

‘Certainly not! His duty was to proceed to Niombi and take up a guard position over the inhabitants, as he had been ordered to do.’

‘Do you think that the accused would have been able to recognize with any certainty that the tracks he was following had been made by Nandi rebels?’

‘I do not. I am strongly inclined to doubt the assertion that the tracks were left by humans. Given Lieutenant Courtney’s predilection for shikar – hunting – it was more likely that the tracks of some animal, such as a bull elephant, excited his attention.’

‘Objection, your honour!’ wailed Bobby. ‘That is merely conjecture on the part of the witness.’

Before the senior judge could make a ruling Eddy cut in smoothly: ‘I withdraw the question, sir.’ He was satisfied that he had placed the thought in the minds of the three judges. He led Snell on through Leon’s report. ‘The accused states that, with most of his men killed and his sergeant badly wounded, he fought a valiant defence against heavy odds and was only driven out of the Niombi boma when the rebels set fire to the building.’ He tapped the page of the document. ‘When that happened he placed the wounded man on his back and, using the smoke from the building as a screen, carried him away. Is this credible?’

Snell smiled knowingly. ‘Sergeant Manyoro was a big man. He stood well over six feet.’

‘I have a copy of his medical report. The man stood six feet three and a half inches with his feet bare. A very big man. You would agree?’

‘Indeed.’ Snell nodded. ‘And the accused claims that he carried him something like thirty miles without being overtaken by the rebels.’ He shook his head. ‘I doubt that even such a powerful man as Lieutenant Courtney is capable of such a feat.’

‘Then what do you think has happened to the sergeant?’

‘I believe that the accused deserted him at Niombi with the rest of his detachment, and made his escape alone.’

‘Objection.’ Bobby jumped to his feet. ‘Conjecture!’

‘Objection sustained. The court recorder will strike the question and the witness’s reply from the record,’ said the turbaned colonel, but he glanced disapprovingly at Leon.

Eddy Roberts consulted his notes. ‘We have heard evidence that the relief column was unable to find the sergeant’s body. How would you account for that?’

‘I must correct you there, Captain Roberts. The evidence is that they were unable to identify the sergeant’s body among the dead. That is a different matter. They found corpses in the burned-out building, but they were charred beyond recognition. The other bodies were either decapitated by the rebels or so badly mauled by vultures and hyena that they also were unrecognizable. Sergeant Manyoro could have been any one of those.’

Bobby cupped his face in his hands and said wearily, ‘Objection. Supposition.’

‘Sustained. Please stick to factual evidence, Major.’ Snell and his favourite exchanged a smug glance.

Eddy went on in a businesslike tone: ‘If Sergeant Manyoro had escaped from Niombi with the assistance of the accused, can you suggest where he is now?’

‘No, I cannot.’

‘At his family manyatta, perhaps? Visiting his mother, as the accused has stated in his report?’

‘In my view that is highly unlikely,’ Snell said. ‘I doubt that we shall ever see the sergeant again.’

The judges adjourned for a lunch of cold roasted guinea fowl and champagne on the wide veranda of the officers’ mess, and when they resumed Eddy Roberts continued his examination of Snell until the middle of the afternoon when he turned to the senior judge. ‘No further questions, your honour. I have finished with this witness.’ He was well satisfied and did not attempt to conceal it.

‘Do you wish to cross-examine, Lieutenant?’ The senior judge asked, as he consulted his pocket watch. ‘I would like to conclude by tomorrow evening at the latest. We have a ship to catch in Mombasa on Friday evening.’ He gave the impression that the verdict was already decided.

Bobby did his best to shake Snell’s self-confident mien, but he had so little to work with that the man was able to turn aside his questions in an indulgent and condescending tone, as though he was speaking to a child. Once or twice he cast a conspiratorial glance at the three judges.

At last the colonel hauled out his gold watch again and announced, ‘Gentlemen, that will do for the day. We will reconvene at nine in the morning.’ He stood up and led his fellow judges to the bar at the back of the mess.

‘I am afraid I didn’t do very well,’ Bobby confessed, as he and Leon went out on to the veranda. ‘It will all be up to you when you give your evidence tomorrow.’