When they returned that evening, there was a message from Detective Weber. The police laboratory had found some fingerprints on the letter and envelope.
Most were Ellen’s, but they also developed some adult fingerprints as well. They were checking those prints in their databases.
“What a roller coaster,” Diane said as she slumped on the couch.
Kevin sat down and took her hand. “We know she’s alive. It’s her handwriting on the letter, and it was postmarked yesterday. Thanks to Ellen, we’ve narrowed it down to the province, and we know she’s on a farm. Now we have fingerprints, too.”
“Oh Kevin, it’s been eight days. Can you imagine what she’s going through? She’s never been away from home this long. Who knows the conditions she’s being kept in.”
Kevin tried to picture Ellen on a farm somewhere in the country they’d seen that day. He hoped she wasn’t locked in some cold, drafty barn. The winter temperatures in Holland were hovering below freezing. He hoped she was not sitting somewhere, shivering in the cold.
The next day, Sunday, Diane and Kevin stayed home. Diane finished her brief. It was first-rate. She argued that although evidence of the atrocities against the Serb people were not a justification for war crimes, the evidence was relevant to explain the state of mind of the people who committed the acts.
“While the court may justifiably view the ‘honor of Serbia’ as irrelevant to the question of whether war crimes were committed,” Diane had written, “it is legitimately relevant to the question of whether the crimes were carried out by the highly-trained group of dispassionate warriors commanded by the accused, or passionate and misguided men with whom the accused had no connection and over whom he exercised no control.”
She ended her brief by attaching the note from the kidnappers as an exhibit, and making a personal plea. “The small amount of the court’s time spent on this matter may make a lifetime of difference to our family. Please give us the latitude to present this evidence.”
On Monday morning, the two of them went to court for another week of Draga’s trial. They filed Diane’s brief first thing in the morning, then spent the next five days listening to the testimony of Muslim witnesses who had been subjected to beatings, torture, and rape in the Serb-run camps in Bosnia. Kevin and Diane listened to tale after tale of horrible mistreatment and inhumane abuse.
Just as Bradford Stone had told the Court, a pattern emerged as the witnesses paraded before the Tribunal and told their stories. At each of the camps, Omarska, Foca, and Keraterm, men in Black Dragon uniforms had come to the facility and beaten, tortured, raped, extorted, and often murdered Muslim prisoners.
Kevin’s cross-examinations were difficult. He had one goal during his questioning – to get the names of the men in black uniforms. He began compiling a list, which he had marked as defense exhibit 5. Whenever a witness identified an alleged Black Dragon, Kevin had them write his name on the list. His only hope was that at the end of all this testimony, none of the names on this list would match the list of real Black Dragons under Draga’s command. So far, that part of his strategy had been successful.
The mood of the court, however, had swung against the defense, as the flood of heart-wrenching stories poured forth. Just before they concluded on Friday, Judge Davidson quizzed Bradford Stone. “We’ve heard the pattern that you have referred to, Mr. Stone. How much more evidence do you have?”
Stone was his arrogant self now that things were back on track. “We have just one more day of victims, Your Honor. Then we will present statements made by the accused to journalists, and speeches he made. We will then conclude with our chief investigator, Mr. Jacobson, as a summary witness. I expect we will finish our case on Tuesday or Wednesday of next week.”
“We don’t need to hear from any more victims,” Judge Davidson said gruffly. “Finish your case on Monday.” The judge turned to Kevin. “How long will your defense case be, Mr. Anderson?”
“I’m not sure, Your Honor. That depends in part on the Court’s ruling on our motion to admit evidence of the atrocities committed against the Serbs.”
Judge Orozco spoke next. “Yes, I believe Judge Linares is ready to provide the Court’s ruling on that motion.”
Everyone looked over at Judge Linares. He had been quiet for most of the trial, his expression unchanged as the witnesses had recounted the horrors of the Serb camps. “Mr. Anderson, I want to compliment you and Mrs. Anderson on your memorandum. It was outstanding. I also want to tell those who are still holding your daughter that you have done everything humanly possible to convince the Court to admit this evidence. However, it is the order of this court, as it has been in every case in which this issue has been raised before, that evidence of alleged atrocities against the perpetrators of war crimes is not admissible. It is simply not relevant. We will issue a written opinion in this matter in the near future.”
Kevin looked at Diane and shrugged his shoulders. He was not surprised, and a bit relieved that he would not have to muck up his defense with evidence that was not going to be persuasive to the court. He just hoped that Ellen would not suffer for it. As Judge Linares had said, they had done all they could.
Judge Davidson looked at Kevin. “You have your ruling, Mr. Anderson. How long will your defense case be?”
Kevin looked back at Draga. There were still many things unresolved. Could they get the list of bona-fide Dragons into evidence through the chief investigator? Would they use the CIA evidence? Would Draga testify? Kevin looked back at Judge Davidson. “Can I give the Court an answer on Monday? My client and I have some decisions to make this weekend.”
“Very well, but you need to be ready to start your evidence on Tuesday.”
“Yes, Your Honor.” The many unsettled questions about his defense made him very nervous.
“What are we going to do?” Diane asked when they were alone. “The trial is almost over.”
“Win the trial for one thing. If the police don’t find Ellen before the verdict, it’s our only hope. I have an appointment to see Vacinovic this afternoon.”
When Kevin arrived at the Embassy, Zoran Vacinovic greeted him at the door.
“Mr. Anderson,” Vacinovic said, extending his hand, “I am so sorry about your daughter.”
“Thank you.” Kevin studied Vacinovic for any sign of insincerity. He really couldn’t tell. He followed Vacinovic into the conference room.
“What can I do for you?” Vacinovic asked.
“I was wondering if you had any contacts within the Serbian intelligence agencies that might have some information about the people who kidnapped my daughter.” Kevin looked at Vacinovic’s eyes.
“Don’t you think I’ve tried?” Vacinovic said, gesturing with his palms up for emphasis. He met Kevin’s gaze. “When I heard about your daughter, I had the Ambassador call the head of our internal police agency. We have made weekly inquiries. There is no information in Serbia about who kidnapped your daughter.”
“The note we got from the kidnappers seemed to be wanting us to defend the honor of Serbia. That’s why I thought someone from your country might be involved.”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s the Muslims. They keep committing atrocities and blaming it on the Serbs. It’s part of their strategy to get the United States to intervene on their side.”
Kevin did not react.
“Believe me, Mr. Anderson, if there is anything I or my government can do to help get your daughter back, we will do it.”
“Thank you. I brought you the brief we submitted to try to get the evidence of atrocities against the Serbs admitted before the Court. I think it’s a good brief, but we lost that issue today. The judges won’t permit it.”
Vacinovic took the brief. “I hope the people who are holding your daughter are fairer than that court.”