The Last Hour (Thompson Sisters) Sheehan-Miles, Charles (good beach reads .txt) 📖

I didn’t have a job. Doctor Moore’s investigation … whatever that consisted of ... had been dragging on for weeks, with no resolution. I don’t know who he was talking to, or whatever evidence he was examining, because I’d heard hardly a word except from Lori Beckley, who called me every couple of days to check in. Lori and I had been out for drinks three times, but that was my only connection with NIH. Otherwise, all of my time had been spent with Ray. Who seemed to be slowly falling apart.

Colonel Schwartz let Martin go, and then said, “I’ve reached the end of the evidence I intend to examine for this investigation. Does the prosecution have any further evidence to submit? Or any further witnesses to examine?”

The officer leading the prosecution said, “No, sir.” He had declined to cross-examine Martin. Anything further Martin said was likely to be that much more damning for the prosecution, though I was deeply worried about Martin’s account of how all of them ... including Ray ... had promised to say nothing. I didn’t know enough about military law, but it seemed likely to me, based on what Dick had said, that merely participating in that cover-up ... even if he’d reported it eventually ... would be enough to send Ray to a court-martial.

Not to mention, Martin’s testimony conflicted with Colton’s and another sergeant’s.

Schwartz turned to Elmore and said, “Does the accused have any further evidence or witnesses to offer?”

“No, sir,” Elmore said.

“Sergeant Sherman, earlier in this investigation, I advised you of your rights to make a statement, or to remain silent. Do you want me to repeat this advice at this time?”

Ray shifted in his seat, then said, “No, sir.”

“Do you desire to make a statement in any form?”

Elmore had advised Ray, over and over again, not to make any statement at the Article 32 hearing. “They can only use it against you. Right now the weight of the evidence ... and the fact that you reported it in the first place ... is on your side. But if you get up there, then everything you say becomes part of the court-martial record, and the prosecutors can use it to tear you apart at the court-martial.”

So I don’t know what suicidal impulse ran through Ray’s mind when he looked at Colonel Schwartz and said, “Yes, sir.”

I froze, and Elmore turned urgently to Ray and said, “What are you doing?”

“Sir, I…”

“Don’t you sir me. We’ve been over this a hundred times.”

“I know.”

“And you’re going to do it anyway?”

Ray stared at him, then nodded, once.

Elmore sagged in his seat. And then he said, “Please let the record reflect that Sergeant Sherman is making this statement, whatever it is, against the advice of counsel.”

“So noted, Major. Sergeant Sherman, if you’ll come around to the witness seat.”

Ray sat up, and his limbs moving as if he had lead in them, slumped into the witness chair. I watched him, my heart aching.

Colonel Schwartz said, “Sergeant Sherman, as the accused, you have the right to make a sworn or unsworn statement. If you make a sworn statement, the trial counsel will have the opportunity to cross-examine you. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you prefer to make a sworn statement, or unsworn?”

“I’ll make a sworn statement.”

Elmore audibly groaned. What the hell was Ray doing? Was he trying to throw his trial? Did he feel so guilty about what happened that he was going to throw himself to the wolves? Oh, God, Ray, don’t do this, I thought.

“Please raise your right hand.”

Ray did.

“Do you swear, or affirm, to tell the truth, the whole truth, nothing but the truth.”

“I do.”

“You may proceed with your statement.”

Ray swallowed, then reached out and poured himself a glass of water and took a sip. Then he said, “My name is Sergeant Raymond Sherman. I know we’ve been through all the details of what happened. I just have a couple things to say. First ... even though I reported this thing, I guess I half expected it to come to this.”

Oh, Jesus, I thought. I swallowed, staring at him.

“Anyway ... I just want to say ... I don’t think Colton was in his right mind. None of us were. We all saw it ... he was falling apart.”

Ray stopped speaking. And I was just ... flabbergasted. What kind of insane loyalty inspired him to defend Colton after all that? After Colton threatened to kill him and swore them all to secrecy about a murder? After Colton turned on him, accusing Ray of committing the crime in the first place. I didn’t understand it. At all.

And then Schwartz said, “For the record, Sergeant, who killed the Afghan boy?”

“Sergeant Colton.”

“And who shot Sergeant Martin?”

“Sergeant Colton.”

Dick leaned forward, itching to ask questions. But the investigating officer, and then the prosecutors, got to go first.

“Final question: did you make any attempt to stop Sergeant Colton?”

Ray closed his eyes and then said, “Not enough. I yelled. I told him to stop. But I didn’t intervene.” He swallowed.

Schwartz turned to the prosecutors and said, “Trial counsel? Your witness.”

The captain running the prosecution started to stand up, but Schwartz gave him a harsh look. He sat back down. He was young, late twenties maybe, and had longer hair than anyone I’d seen in the Army thus far. He looked at Ray, a frown on his face, and said, “Sergeant. The murder took place on March 24 of 2012. You reported it, by mail, in November 2012. Why did you wait that long?”

Ray ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t have a good reason.”

“Tell us what you can, Sergeant.”

“At first ... I don’t know why. We were out there in the field for three more weeks before we rotated back to the battalion base camp. And I was dealing with a near mutiny from the new guys. They’d literally just come into the theater, and the first time out in the field we’ve got sergeants shooting each other, and ... the other fire team, when