"I hate the enemy, yes, captain. And you are the enemy of my country."

"But you had two countries…"

"I did, captain. But my heart only belonged to one."

Captain Townsend shook his head.

"That seems most obvious, Hauptmann. Now, you also believe Lieutenant

Scott is an animal?"

Visser nodded.

"He is fast. He is strong. And he has clearly been well-trained to be able to quote such great writers. But he occupies a position somewhat less than human. A cheetah is fast, captain, and a seal can be trained by the zookeeper to perform most wonderful tricks. I would remind you, Herr Kapitan, that less than a century ago, the slave owners of your own state would have been likely to say much the same thing about their property working in their tobacco fields from dawn to dusk."

Townsend seemed abruptly trapped by this last statement.

The Nazi was infuriating. Arrogant and unshaken, absolutely persuaded by his beliefs and undaunted by any evidence to the contrary. Tommy could sense a sort of fury on the prosecutor's part, angered by the obstinate and self-important tones Visser used, but unsure just how greatly they were damaging his case. Tommy hoped Townsend would slide into the mire created by the Nazi's conceit.

But Townsend did not.

Instead, the prosecutor asked, "Why should we believe what you say about anything?"

Visser twitched his shoulders.

"I do not care in the slightest what you do or do not believe, captain.

It makes absolutely no difference to me personally whether we shoot Lieutenant Scott, or not, although I would prefer we do, because he himself is so untrustworthy. This, of course, is not truly his fault.

It is a function of his race."

Townsend gritted his teeth.

"It makes no difference to you, Hauptmann, but still you take the stand, swear to tell the truth, and then say that Scott did not commit this crime " Visser raised his only hand, cutting Townsend off.

"But, captain, that is not what I said," he replied, slight amusement creeping into his voice.

"Nor is that what I even suggested."

Townsend stopped. He lifted a single eyebrow and stared at the unrepentant Nazi.

"You said " "What I said, captain, was that to trained eyes it was clear that the crime did not occur as you claim it did. I said nothing about Scott. In fact, he remains to me the chief suspect, and the man most likely to have committed the crime, however it was actually committed."

Townsend broke into a grin.

"Tell us how you reach that conclusion, Hauptmann " Tommy rose sharply.

"Objection, Your Honor!"

But MacNamara shook his head.

"You opened this can of worms, lieutenant. And now you must live with it. Sit down.

Let the Hauptmann testify. You will have a chance to redirect some questions when Captain Townsend has completed his cross-examination."

"Using your unique expertise, of course, Hauptmann," Townsend added swiftly.

The German shifted in his seat, thinking before he answered.

"The evidence of the bloodstains on Lieutenant Scott's clothing is compelling. Particularly the stains on the jacket, which are located in a fashion suggesting someone carried the body over his shoulder.

This has already been discussed here. And, despite Lieutenant Hart's quite entertaining theatrics with the homemade blade belonging to

Scott, it was clear that the weapon was used in the crime " Townsend cut off Visser.

"But you said…"

"Ah, I said that the killing blow was struck by this other blade. The one that cannot be uncovered. But Captain Bedford also suffered what are called defensive wounds on his hands and chest. These are suggestive of him fighting back, even if briefly, against a man in front of him. A man, in all likelihood, wielding this homemade blade."

Townsend looked confused for an instant.

"But why would someone carry two " Visser interrupted the question.

"One person did not carry both blades, captain. The evidence clearly suggests that two men were involved in this murder. Or should I say: one man accompanied by his murderous lackey, the Negro Scott. One who stood in front, occupying Captain Bedford's attention while this second man, who struck silently, came up from behind."

The courtroom surged with noise, pent-up kriegies again unable to keep from turning to their neighbors and whispering shock, surprise, and wonderment at the testimony. The voices of the Allied airmen burst forth, an excited, confused wave, which carried up and over the men at the front of the theater. Tommy did not turn toward either of the two men sitting beside him, but instead took note of several intriguing reactions.

Townsend seemed to be momentarily nonplussed, his mouth slightly open.

Visser had regained a totality of smugness, leaning back, relaxed and exuding superiority. Off to the side, Von Reiter's eyes had narrowed and he wore a look of deep concentration. And in the center of the tribunal, Colonel MacNamara had paled, a stricken, worried, and anxious frown firmly scoring his face.

In that second. Tommy thought the Nazi's arrogant opinion had meant something different to each man.

The babbling, tangled sounds of vying voices from the audience finally seemed to shake Colonel MacNamara from his shock, and he energetically once again began banging away with the gavel, and crying out for order.

The noise subsided rapidly.

Into the abrupt silence. Walker Townsend stepped. He wore a cobra's smile of his own.

"I see, Hauptmann. I see. One man owned a weapon. One man alone was seen abroad on the night of the murder.

One man wore bloodstained shoes and jacket the following day. One man hated enough to kill. Motive. Opportunity.

Means. But you think two men committed the crime. And you base this fantastic supposition on the most excellent training you have received from the German military…" Townsend slid a long pause into his words, and then spoke in tones colored with the slick southernisms of his home state.

"Well, hell's bells, Hauptmann. It ain't no wonder why y'all Krauts are losin' the damn war so bad!"

Visser instantly stiffened in his seat. His own smile evaporated.

Townsend waved his arm wildly at the German.

"No more questions of this expert," he said sarcastically.

"You can have 'im back. Tommy. For whatever the hell he's worth!"

Townsend took a pair of quick paces back to his seat and threw himself down.

Tommy stood, but did not move out from behind the defense table.

"Briefly, Your Honor," he said, with a quick glance to MacNamara.

"Hauptmann, once again, why are you here?"

Visser said sharply: "I am here because you called me, lieutenant."

"No, Hauptmann. Why are you here? At this camp. Now.

Why?"

Visser kept his mouth shut.

"Why do the Germans regard the murder of Captain Bedford as an event requiring an investigation? And why would they send to this camp someone seemingly as important as yourself?"

Visser again remained silent, but Colonel MacNamara did not. His voice boomed forth: "Lieutenant, you attempted to ask these questions earlier and were refused. And they go far beyond the scope of Captain Townsend's cross-examination!

I will not allow them!"

Colonel MacNamara took a deep breath.

"Hauptmann Visser, you are excused! We thank you for your testimony."

The German rose, and came to attention, saluting the court briskly and glaring toward his own commanding officer.

Visser returned to his seat and immediately resumed his observer's role. He removed one of his thin, brown cigarettes from a silver case, and then bent toward the stenographer at his side, who fumbled for a moment and then produced a match.

Colonel MacNamara waited, then turned to Tommy.

"What else do you have for us, lieutenant?"