Nat sat on the wall opposite the dining hall and waited patiently. After he had seen about five hundred young women leave the building, he decided the reason she was so slim was because she simply didn’t eat. Then she suddenly came rushing through the swing doors. Nat had been given more than enough time to rehearse his lines, but still felt nervous when he caught up with her. ‘Hi, I’m Nat.’ She looked up, but didn’t smile. ‘We met the other day.’ She still didn’t respond.
‘On the top of the hill.’
‘Yes, I do remember,’ she said.
‘But you didn’t tell me your name.’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘Have I done something to annoy you?’
‘No.’
‘Then can I ask what you meant by “your reputation”?’
‘Mr Cartwright, you may be surprised to learn that there are some women on this campus who don’t think you have the automatic right to claim their virginity simply because you’ve won the Medal of Honour.’
‘I never thought I did.’
‘But you must be aware that half the women on campus claim they’ve slept with you.’
‘They may well claim it,’ said Nat, ‘but the truth is that only two of them can prove it.’
‘But everyone knows how many girls chase after you.’
‘And most of them can’t keep up, as I’m sure you remember.’ He laughed, but she didn’t respond. ‘So why can’t I fall for someone just like anyone else?’
‘But you’re not just like anyone else,’ she said quietly. ‘You’re a war hero on a captain’s salary, and as such you expect everyone else to fall in line.’
‘Who told you that?’
‘Someone who’s known you since your schooldays.’
‘Ralph Elliot, no doubt?’
‘Yes, the man you tried to cheat out of the Taft student government presidency...’
‘I did what?’ said Nat.
‘... and then passed off his essay as yours when you applied for Yale,’ she said ignoring his interruption.
‘Is that what he told you?’
‘Yes,’ the young woman replied calmly.
‘Then perhaps you should ask him why he isn’t at Yale.’
‘He explained that you transferred the blame on to him so he lost his place as well.’ Nat was about to explode again, when she added, ‘And now you want to be president of the student senate, and your only strategy seems to be to sleep your way to victory.’
Nat tried to control his temper. ‘First, I don’t want to run for president, second I’ve only slept with three women in my life: a student I also knew when I was at school, a secretary in Vietnam, and a one-night stand I now regret. If you can find anyone else, please introduce me because I’d like to meet them.’ She stopped and looked at Nat for the first time. ‘Anyone else,’ he repeated. ‘Now can I at least know your name?’
‘Su Ling,’ she said quietly.
‘Su Ling, if I promise never to try and seduce you until after I’ve asked for your hand in marriage, sought your father’s permission, produced a ring, booked the church, and had the banns read, will you at least let me take you out to dinner?’
Su Ling laughed. ‘I’ll think about it,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry to rush, but I’m already late for my afternoon lecture.’
‘But how do I find you?’ asked Nat desperately.
‘You managed to find the Vietcong, Captain Cartwright, surely it shouldn’t be too difficult to find me?’
17
‘All rise. The state versus Mrs Anita Kirsten. His Honour Mr Justice Abernathy presiding.’
The judge took his place and looked towards the defence counsel’s table. ‘How do you plead, Mrs Kirsten?’
Fletcher rose from behind the defence table. ‘My client pleads Not Guilty, your honour.’
The judge looked up, ‘Are you representing the defendant?’
‘Yes I am, your honour.’
Judge Abernathy glanced down at the charge sheet. ‘I don’t think I’ve come across you before, Mr Davenport?’
‘No, your honour, it’s my first appearance in your court.’
‘Will you please approach the bench, Mr Davenport?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Fletcher stepped out from behind the little table and walked towards the judge, where the prosecution counsel joined them.
‘Good morning, gentlemen,’ said Mr Justice Abernathy. ‘May I enquire what legal qualifications you have that are recognized in my court, Mr Davenport?’
‘None, sir.’
‘I see. Is your client aware of this?’
‘Yes sir, she is.’
‘But she still wants you to represent her, despite this being a capital charge?’
‘Yes, sir.’
The judge turned to face the attorney general for Connecticut. ‘Do you have any objection to Mr Davenport representing Mrs Kirsten?’
‘None whatsoever, your honour; in fact the state welcomes it.’
‘I feel sure they do,’ said the judge, ‘but I must ask you, Mr Davenport, if you have any experience of the law at all.’
‘Not a great deal, your honour,’ Fletcher admitted. ‘I’m a second year law student at Yale, and this will be my first case.’ The judge and the attorney general smiled.
‘May I ask who your director of studies is?’ asked the judge.
‘Professor Karl Abrahams.’
‘Then I am proud to preside over your first case, Mr Davenport, because that is something you and I have in common. How about you, Mr Stamp?’
‘No sir, I qualified in South Carolina.’
‘Although it is most irregular, in the end it must be the defendant’s decision, so let us proceed with the case in hand.’ The attorney general and Fletcher returned to their places.
The judge looked down at Fletcher. ‘Will you be applying for bail, Mr Davenport?’
Fletcher rose from his place. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘On what grounds?’
‘That Mrs Kirsten has no previous record, and constitutes no danger to the public. She is the mother of two children, Alan aged seven, and Delia aged five, who are currently living with their grandmother in Hartford.’
The judge turned his attention to the attorney general. ‘Does the state have any objection to bail Mr Stamp?’
‘We most certainly do, your honour. We oppose bail not only on the grounds that this is a capital charge, but because the murder itself was premeditated. We therefore contend that Mrs Kirsten constitutes a danger to society, and may also try to leave the state’s jurisdiction.’
Fletcher shot up. ‘I must object, your honour.’
‘On what grounds, Mr Davenport?’
‘This is indeed a capital charge, so leaving the state is hardly relevant, your honour, and in any case, Mrs Kirsten’s home is in Hartford, where she earns her living working as a hospital cleaner at St Mary’s, and her children are both at a local school.’
‘Any further submission, Mr Davenport?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Bail refused,’ said the judge, and brought his hammer down. ‘This court is adjourned until Monday the seventeenth.’
‘All rise.’
Mr Justice Abernathy winked at Fletcher as he left the court room.
Thirty-four minutes and ten seconds. Nat couldn’t hide his delight that he had not only broken his personal best, but had managed sixth place in the university trials, and was therefore certain to be picked for the opening meet against Boston University.
As Nat warmed down, and went through his usual stretching routine, Tom walked over to join him. ‘Congratulations,’ he said, ‘and my bet is that by the end of the season, you’ll have knocked another minute off your time.’