“Begging your pardon, Judge, but there is a distinct danger of flight.”
“From Ireland?”
“Yes.”
O’Connell thought it over for a few seconds. “You say this man is a former President of the United States. I do recognize the name.”
“Yes, Judge.”
“Is there some serious worry that he’s going to go forth and reoffend somewhere?”
“No, Judge, but we might lose jurisdiction over him.”
“What? You said the alleged crimes were committed in Peru, isn’t that correct?”
“Yes, My Lord.”
“Peru, as in South America, llamas, and halfway around the bleeding globe?”
“Yes, My Lord.”
“And, this is still the Republic of Ireland, like it was when I went to bed last night, correct?”
“Ah… yes, My Lord.”
“Then WHY IN BLOODY HELL ARE YOU WORRIED?”
“Well…”
“I mean, has he threatened to torture anyone here, other than me, that is?”
“No, Judge, of course not, but…”
“Tomorrow morning, then, counsel! I’ll hear this case promptly at eleven. No. At ten A.M. You’ll provide notification to Harris’s solicitor?”
“Yes, My Lord.”
“Good. Now leave me alone.”
“Yes, My Lord. Thank you.”
He replaced the receiver and sat in thought as he munched his toast. Anything involving such a high-ranking personage would draw considerable attention. Media coverage, government officials, diplomatic corps, and a thundering herd of interested parties.
I wonder if there’s any substance to this? he mused, suppressing his long-held antipathy for the posturing of the American government on so many issues.
This could be bloody interesting!
FORTY
The appointment to meet at the solicitor’s office at eleven had been made with an awareness that the entire issue would be moot if John Harris was already on his way to New York. Now, with the hopes of a commercial escape dashed, Jay was determined to keep the appointment on time. If they had to fight, being as prepared as possible was vital.
He and Sherry Lincoln had spent the hours before the appointment trying to charter a smaller transoceanic business jet to carry the President to New York, but the effort had failed. No one could react on such short notice to a new customer. The only alternative, Sherry was told, involved deadheading a long-range Gulfstream in from Chicago at incredible cost, but even then, the earliest wheels-up time out of Dublin would be late Thursday morning.
“I’m out of tricks,” Jay told John Harris at a quarter past ten. “We either get the damn thing quashed here, or fly you out on the 737.”
“The crew’s still willing?” the President asked.
Jay nodded. “I talked to them fifteen minutes ago. They’re rested and can leave whenever we decide to. It’s risky, of course. They might have to turn around if the headwinds are too strong, and there’s always the chance they might have to divert to Iceland or Canada, which then opens up an entirely new series of challenges.”
John Harris was silent for nearly a minute before shaking his head and sighing. “No, Jay, I want to wait right here, I think. I like your man Garrity, and from what he was saying… and the fact that I would really rather attack this head-on than run… perhaps I should simply send those fellows back to Frankfurt. I’ll get plenty of protection here.”
“We don’t know that, John! We don’t even have a court or a judge yet.”
“Nonetheless, I know what did and did not happen in the Oval, and I trust the Irish judge to sort it out and give me an adequate opportunity to prove that the tape is a fake.”
Jay stood and stared at the President for a few uncomfortable seconds as John Harris sat on the side of his bed, keeping his eyes on the carpet.
“John, it’s your money, but I want to keep those guys on standby until we know what’s happening.”
Harris nodded slowly. “Very well. But my intention is not to use them.”
The offices of Seamus Dunham of Dunham and McBride, the firm of solicitors Jay had retained on Michael Garrity’s recommendation, were in a working-class neighborhood in a nondescript building several miles from the heart of town.
Michael Garrity was waiting as Jay, Sherry, and the President assembled in the small, somewhat shabby conference room and Matt Ward stood guard in the hallway.
When the introductions were complete, Garrity outlined the case against John Harris once more, with emphasis on the alleged existence of the video. He was surprised to hear that Campbell had agreed to deliver a copy to Jay by evening.
Seamus Dunham took over discussion of the strategy when a phone call pulled Garrity away. The barrister returned several minutes later, ashen-faced and exceptionally quiet. He slipped into a chair at the end of the table, saying nothing, but noticed by them all.
“Michael?” Seamus Dunham queried. “Are you ill?”
Garrity glanced up and tried to smile.
“That’s a good word for it, I think.”
“What’s wrong?” Jay asked from the far corner of the table.
“That was Stuart Campbell. We have a judge.”
“How did he know to call here?” Jay asked.
“Campbell apparently has every phone number in the Western world,” Garrity replied. “It’s the High Court, which I expected. The time is ten A.M. tomorrow morning in the Four Courts complex.”
“And the judge?” Dunham prompted.
Garrity drummed his fingers against his chin for a few seconds before answering, his eyes on the opposite wall. “I truly did not know he was on standby this weekend. Never thought about it, not that I could have changed anything…”
“What are you talking about?” Jay asked, a bit too sharply.
Garrity looked up at Jay. “Only the worst judge we could get for a case like this. Mr. Justice O’Connell.” He watched Seamus Dunham’s jaw drop slightly.
“Mr. Justice O’Connell,” Michael Garrity continued, “who has no love for the United States, and no tolerance for anyone except God, whom he rather imagines himself to be.”
“Can’t we… recuse him?” Jay asked. “If that’s the appropriate word over here… request that he remove himself for being biased against Americans?”
“Oh, he’s not biased against Americans per se, Jay,” Garrity said. “He’s just institutionally ticked off at the U.S. government for all sorts of things. I’m not so sure he isn’t still angry with JFK for getting shot.”
“But, John Harris was the U.S. government, so to speak,” Jay said. “That makes it even more important that he stand down.”
“Jay, Mr. Justice O’Connell has yet to disqualify himself on any case I know about. You might say he’s biased about his impartiality. We could file a challenge, but inevitably it would fail without some particularly outrageously prejudicial statement from him, and he’s much too careful for that.”
Seamus Dunham was nodding. “That’s a blow, for certain. He’s been a strong proponent of the Treaty Against Torture. He’s even written a few articles. He was furious that Washington tried to sit on the fence in the Pinochet matter.”
“We can’t forum shop?” Jay asked. “We can’t get another judge?”
“We don’t do it like that here,” Michael explained. “You’re stuck with what you’ve got, and we’ve got a major problem right out of the starting gate.”
John Harris leaned forward, catching Michael Garrity’s eyes.
“What do you expect him to do that you wouldn’t expect another judge to do?”
Michael began shaking his head sadly. “He’s a tyrant in the courtroom, Mr. President. He’s very hard to predict, and very hard to work with. Anything irritates the man, and he’ll destroy a perfectly good argument or train of thought by bellowing at you for no apparent reason. In other words, his temper and his antics tend to foul up the barrister’s ability to try any case brought before him.”