“I don’t know how the equipment worked,” he replied more than once. “I just turned it on and wrote down what I heard.”
After about forty-five minutes of technical questions, Krasnic told the judges. “I have just a few more questions, Your Honors.”
Kevin allowed himself to relax a bit. Maybe Nihudian would get through this without any hitches. Or was the lawyer saving his best cross-examination for last?
“Did you yourself commit any war crimes?”
“No.”
“Did you murder any civilians?”
“No.”
“Did you rape any women?”
“No.”
“Did you treat any prisoners inhumanely?”
“No.”
“Yet it is true, is it not, that before you would speak to the prosecution in this case, you insisted on having a lawyer?”
“Yes.”
“Now, you are not a wealthy man, are you?”
“No.”
“Yet you retained a lawyer from the United States to represent you did you not?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Did the Bosnian government pay for your lawyer?”
“No.”
“You paid him with your own funds?”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell this Court how much you paid this lawyer?”
Kevin looked at Bradford Stone in anticipation. That question was irrelevant. There should be an objection. But Stone sat there silently.
“One Euro.”
“One Euro, that’s all?”
“Yes.”
The President of the trial chamber, the woman from Kenya, interrupted. “Witness,” she asked, “what kind of lawyer would work for one Euro?”
Before Nihudian could answer, Bradford Stone was on his feet. But it was not to make an objection. “You can see for yourself,” Stone announced. “The lawyer is sitting right there. His name is Kevin Anderson, or something.” He pointed to Kevin, sitting in the small booth on the other side of the glass.
All eyes turned to Kevin. Kevin fought to keep himself from turning beet red, a battle that he lost. He also tried to look confident, but felt unbelievably embarrassed.
“I guess you get what you pay for,” Stone volunteered, offering Kevin a snide smile. There was laughter in the courtroom.
The judges shook their heads. “Perhaps we are paying our assigned counsel too much,” the Australian judge observed dryly.
More laughter.
Kevin was devastated. He had been made to look a fool. He had represented Nihudian to protect his rights. None of that had come out. Instead, he was the object of ridicule.
“Why did he ask how much I paid you?” Nihudian asked when they met in the lobby.
“I don’t know what that was supposed to prove.”
“I’m sorry, Kevin, if they embarrassed you. If they gave me the chance, I would have told them what a great lawyer you are. And a great friend.”
“It’s alright, Nihudian,” Kevin replied. “You were a truthful and credible witness. It’s been an honor to be your lawyer.”
Kevin and Nihudian walked out of the Tribunal together.
“You have my address and e-mail,” Kevin said. “Be sure and keep in touch.”
Nihudian took Kevin’s hand and shook it firmly. “I will someday repay you, Kevin Anderson.” He turned and headed down the street.
Kevin walked over to his bicycle. His first case at the Tribunal was over. It had been a success for the client, and a disaster for himself.
Not feeling much like returning to the Tribunal that day, he got on his bicycle and rode home to Wassenaar. Things sure weren’t turning out the way they were supposed to.
Over the next two weeks, Kevin called Mrs. Kelly twice, but nothing had changed. It was almost the end of July. The Tribunal would be closed in August. It looked like Ellen would not be attending the American School after all.
On the Wednesday of the last week of July, Kevin was alone in the house, taking his turn reading the latest Harry Potter book, when the phone rang.
“Mr. Anderson, I’m with the defense unit at the Tribunal. We have a case for you if you’re available.”
Kevin’s heart started beating faster.
“Great,” he said, not sure whether it was great or not.
“The accused was arrested last night by the United Nations forces. And he speaks English. Do you want the assignment as his temporary counsel? As you know, it will be up to the accused whether to select you as his permanent counsel.”
Kevin’s mind was racing. His instincts told him that if he asked to think it over, the assignment would go to someone else. With the prosecutor’s job looking virtually hopeless, Kevin had the sense that it was now or never for him at the Tribunal. It wouldn’t hurt just to be someone’s temporary lawyer.
“Yes, I’ll accept the assignment.”
“Good. You can go out to the detention center and meet your new client tomorrow. His court appearance will be the day after tomorrow at 2:00.”
“Thank you for selecting me.”
“You can thank your friend – the Irish one.”
Kevin smiled at the thought of Mrs. Kelly. “I’ll do that. Goodbye, now.”
“Wait! Don’t you want to know your client’s name?”
“That would help.” Kevin was a rookie at this defense business.
“Dragoljub Zaric.”
That name meant nothing to Kevin.
“He is better known as Draga,” said the court official.
Now Kevin remembered reading something about “Draga” in the local English-language newspaper a few weeks earlier. He was a flamboyant Serbian fugitive they’d been trying to find for some time. Kevin wondered what he might be getting himself into.
“Can you tell me anything else about him?”
“Well, he commanded a paramilitary group called – the Black Dragons.”
“And the charge?” Kevin asked, holding his breath.
“Genocide.”
CHAPTER 5
Kevin’s body tingled with excitement, but he dreaded telling Diane.
He knew he had made a kind of promise to his wife, but at the same time he was sick and tired of being on the sidelines. In his heart, he knew that he would never get a job with the prosecutor’s office – even if the funds became available any time soon. He had made too many stout adversaries in that department.
When he heard the gate open and saw Diane and Ellen walking their bicycles into the back yard, Kevin opened the door and greeted them.
Once they were all inside, he could wait no longer.
“I’ve got some news. I’ve been assigned as temporary defense counsel at the Tribunal.”
“Does that mean we can stay, Daddy?” Ellen asked excitedly.
“I don’t know yet,” he said cautiously. “The defendant will have to decide to keep me, and I’ll – well, there’s some other considerations.”
“Well, I guess congratulations are in order,” Diane smiled wanly.
“Goody, goody,” Ellen squealed. “We can stay!”
That night, alone in the living room, Kevin switched on CNN. The story he was looking for came third after the top of the hour.
“United Nations troops arrested the infamous Serbian warlord Draga last night at the Romanian border with Serbia,” the announcer reported. “The arrest of Dragoljub Zaric was made after a rival Serbian gang reportedly kidnapped him and delivered him to U.N. officials. Zaric has now been transported to The Hague where, along with Slobodan Milosevic, he becomes one of the most significant persons arrested for the War Crimes Tribunal.”
A picture of a brash, confident man in his mid-thirties, tall, and well groomed, flashed on the screen. He was wearing a black beret and black Ninja-like uniform. Other footage showed him at his wedding, when he was married to a popular Serbian movie star, and at a Belgrade stadium cheering on the local soccer team.
Kevin found a yellow legal pad and began jotting down notes.
“The Black Dragons, a paramilitary group headed by Draga, is believed responsible for thousands of deaths during the war in Bosnia. Draga has been one of Europe’s most wanted fugitives. In addition to his alleged war crimes, Draga is wanted by authorities in Belgium, Sweden, and Germany for a string of robberies in the 1980s. He previously escaped from a German prison. Security is expected to be tight when he makes his first appearance before the U.N. War Crimes Tribunal.”