Judge Linares smiled and nodded to both sides. Judge Davidson stared straight ahead.
“Is the prosecution ready for trial?” asked Judge Orozco.
“Yes, Your Honor.”
She turned to Kevin on her right. “And the defense?”
“We’re ready, Your Honor.”
“Very well,” Judge Orozco looked pleased that there had been no last minute glitches. “Let’s hear the opening statement for the prosecution.”
Bradford Stone rose from his seat and took his place at the podium. “Your Honors,” he began, “the evidence during this trial will show that the man seated at the far left of the courtroom, Dragoljub Zaric, known as Draga, is responsible for the murder of thousands of people, and the beating, torture, and rape of thousands more.”
Stone pointed his bony finger at Draga. “The evidence will show that this man selected, trained, motivated, and commanded a group of vicious killers known as the Black Dragons, and that he and his men marched through Bosnia like a tornado, killing and destroying everything in their path.”
Kevin noticed that the press in the gallery were furiously scribbling as Stone colorfully described the prosecution’s case. But, strangely, Kevin felt relaxed. The trial was underway; he was at last on his turf.
Kevin had spoken with Bud Marcello yesterday. Maria Jones had indeed been released from solitary confinement. Kevin had also had a long talk with Draga last night. They had agreed that Kevin would make no mention of the CIA evidence, at least until the prosecution had rested its case. In the meantime, Kevin would work on getting the CIA’s promise to Draga in writing.
Bradford Stone’s opening statement lasted most of the first day. His assistants placed large color-coded maps and charts on the easel as Stone painstakingly detailed all of the locations in Bosnia where the Black Dragons had struck. Three scale models of the Omarska, Foca, and Keraterm prison camps sat on tables in the well of the courtroom, in front of the Deputy Registrar and usher. Stone pointed out the buildings in the camps where Black Dragons had called out prisoners for beatings, torture, and rape.
It was 3:45 when Stone finally sat down to the nods and polite accolades of the other members of the prosecution team.
Judge Orozco thanked Stone, and then turned to Kevin. “Mr. Anderson, in light of the hour, perhaps we should hear your opening statement tomorrow?”
Kevin rose. “Your Honors, the defense will not be making an opening statement at this time. Pursuant to Rule 84, we wish to reserve our opening statement until after the prosecution has rested its case and before we begin calling our witnesses.”
Judge Orozco looked surprised. Judge Davidson appeared to be looking up Rule 84, as did the prosecutors. After a pause, Judge Orozco said, “Very well. Court is adjourned until ten o’clock tomorrow morning. We’ll begin then with the Prosecutor’s first witness.”
Kevin was back in his office for about twenty minutes when the phone rang. Zoran Vacinovic was livid. “You made no opening statement? What kind of defense is that?”
“We’ll have our turn later.”
“But you did not answer the prosecution’s case when the world is watching. The Serbs will be vilified all over the world tonight as butchers. You could have refuted that, but by saying nothing you admitted it was true.” The man was clearly upset.
“I didn’t admit anything,” Kevin replied defensively, somewhat shaken by the force of Vacinovic’s anger.
“My government expects a vigorous defense for Mr. Zaric, not someone sitting on their hands. People in Serbia are very, very upset right now.”
“I’m doing this the way I think is best. We’ve talked about this before. I cannot and will not defend Draga by claiming that the Serbs were the victims, because even victims have no legal right to commit war crimes.” Kevin realized he was almost shouting. He tried to calm down. “I will defend Draga by arguing that he didn’t commit any war crimes. That’s how it has to be.”
“We’ll be watching,” Vacinovic responded ominously, and hung up.
That night, after Ellen had done her homework and gone to bed, Kevin and Diane watched the coverage of the trial on the BBC and CNN. The media presented only the prosecutor’s allegations against Draga. The BBC report included footage of a crowd of emaciated men with their ribs clearly visible, looking hopefully at the cameras through a barbed wire fence. These were the infamous concentration camp scenes filmed during the war.
“I can understand why Vacinovic doesn’t like this kind of press coverage,” Kevin said. “Those pictures still give me the creeps.”
“Did Draga do that?”
“No. That’s exactly the point of my defense. I’ll let them paint all their gory scenes. Then I’ll ask them to point out Draga in their picture, or men they can prove were under his command.”
Before going to bed, Kevin put a new cassette into his tape player and stuck it in his jacket pocket. He expected to have company on his run the next morning. He had prepared a subpoena for Pete Barnes in the event that their negotiations broke down. He stuck that in his jacket pocket as well and went to bed.
The next morning was cold, but dry. Kevin headed south towards the center of Wassenaar on his usual running route. Barnes joined him at the same place as before.
“Morning.”
“Morning, Kevin.”
“Thanks for getting Maria moved.”
Kevin casually put his left hand inside his jacket and switched on the tape.
“You’re welcome. See, we can deliver.”
“That’s a good sign. And I delivered on my end as well.”
“Yes, you did.”
“Where do we go from here?”
“I still need the reports, and the Evans tape. Then, we’re done.”
“And I need something in writing to guarantee what you will do for my client.”
“We absolutely cannot do that. This kind of thing does not get put in writing.”
“So he just has to trust you?”
“That’s right. It’s non-negotiable.”
“Well, you’ll have to just trust us that we won’t use the reports and tape. I’m not giving them back to you without having a way to enforce your agreement with Draga. That’s non-negotiable.”
The two men ran stride for stride in silence for a while. “Kevin, you’re a highly regarded federal prosecutor with a great career. Don’t make this hard on yourself and everybody else.”
“I don’t need this aggravation either, believe me. I’ve got a case to try. But I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t insist that an agreement be in writing. Oral agreements spell malpractice for lawyers.”
“You don’t seem to understand. It ain’t going to happen. Period.”
“Then I guess I’ll just hang onto the reports and tape.”
Kevin turned onto his street. They were almost to his house.
“I didn’t want to do this, Kevin, but you’re so damn stubborn.” He reached into his right pocket and took out an envelope. He stopped running.
Kevin stopped as well and turned back to look at the envelope.
Barnes pulled out some snapshots from the envelope. Kevin could see by the light of the streetlight that they were surveillance photos of Ellen at school.
Kevin went ballistic. “What’re you doing? Picking on some eleven-year-old girl? This is how the United States government operates? That’s pretty damn low. But as long as we’re handing out presents, I’ve got one for you.”
Kevin produced the subpoena from his jacket. “You’ve been served. See you in court.”
Barnes looked up. His face was grim. “This isn’t a game, counselor. We gave you a chance to do it the easy way. Don’t blame us for what happens next.”
Back at the house, Kevin mentioned none of his encounter with the CIA to Diane. He went directly to Ellen’s room to check on her.
She looked so peaceful asleep, and was such a dynamo when she was awake.
Kevin was still seething. The CIA wouldn’t dare do anything to a little girl.