The Accused by Craig Parshall

the police report didn’t show that,” he said. “And did you look at the autopsy report?”
    Will nodded. “Yes—and there was no mention of any abrasions or cuts to the wrists of any of the victims that would be consistent with being tied with rope.”
    â€œOf course,” Marlowe repeated. “The autopsy report was done by a local doctor under the jurisdiction of the federal police.”
    â€œWhat happened to the rest of the terrorists?” Will asked.
    The colonel’s face tightened as he answered.
    â€œThere was a door.”
    â€œA door, sir?” Hanover asked.
    â€œA trapdoor in the floor,” Marlowe continued. But now he was clearly troubled as he went forward with his description.
    â€œA small, square trapdoor in the floor, about two yards from where the bodies lay. It was pretty clear the terrorists must have exited down it—I’m sure it led some distance away from the house. By the time I noticed it, though, we could hear the sirens and the federal police were approaching.”
    Will leaned forward. “So, you made a deliberate choice to avoid the federal police?”
    Marlowe nodded.
    Hanover picked up the thread. “Sir, was that a critical part of your mission—to avoid contact with the Mexican government or Mexican nationals?”
    â€œExactly. Don’t ask me who gave me my orders—you know I can’t answer that.”
    Will was beginning to size up his client’s defense—and the prospects were disheartening. His story about the four civilian victims being tied to chairs—like ducks in a shooting gallery—was contradicted by the report, the diagram, and the photographs of the Mexican police, who had arrived at the scene only moments after the team had abandoned the site.
    Beyond that, the colonel had rejected Sergeant Rockwell’s suggestion to kill the lookout at the front door quietly and then do a close-up reconnaissance before attacking. And then there was the matter of Marlowe ordering his unit to flee from the approaching Mexican police.
    But there was something else. Something that troubled Will down to the pit of his stomach.
    â€œColonel, there’s something else I need to ask you. Just moments before the attack you said that you would assume the responsibility for ‘collateral damage.’ What did you mean by that?”
    Marlowe took a few long seconds before he answered. And when he did, he was fingering the styrofoam cup on the conference table in front of him.
    â€œI meant that if there was collateral damage to other persons, it was my call.”
    â€œSir, what other persons?” Hanover broke in, his voice tight.
    â€œIn the event there was a civilian noncombatant in the house.”
    â€œYou knew there might be a civilian noncombatant in the house when you ordered your unit to fire upon it?” Will asked. His body was tensing, and he was leaning forward on the table.
    â€œI knew there might be at least one person inside…one civilian not formally associated with the cell group. I was aware of that.”
    â€œWho?” Will and Hanover asked almost simultaneously.
    But the colonel shook his head. “I cannot answer that.”
    â€œWhy not?” Will asked protestingly.
    â€œIt has nothing to do with the DOD directive,” his client barked.
    â€œYou’ve got to give that information to us. It’s critical, ” Will shot back.
    â€œMr. Chambers,” Marlowe bulleted out, “I don’t have to tell you anything. Now, this interview is over.” As his client stood to leave, as if on cue, Major Hanover jumped to attention, followed by Will, who stood there not knowing quite why he also had sprung up. The colonel gave a nod to them and quickly exited the room.
    The two lawyers looked at each other with the same idea. Just when they thought they had been getting to the core of the case, they had discovered something very