Chapter 3: THREE

The arresting officers testified, one echoing the others testimony. Was the defendant cooperative when she was placed under arrest? Yes, she was. Did she offer resistance? No, she didn’t. The questions were brief, the answers even briefer. When Farrow said, “Your witness,“ she had no questions. The officers had told the truth, and she couldn’t refute their testimony.

“Call your next witness, Mr. Farrow,“ Kingsley said.

“I call Dr. Peter Hallman to the stand.“

Dr. Hallman looked as if he had just emerged fresh from medical school. Stylishly long black hair caressed the back of his neck. The beginnings of a black beard gave him a rather sinister appearance. When he swore to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, he stared at the gallery, a would-be actor auditioning for a play, his glorious moment in the sun.

“Dr. Hallman,“ Farrow said, standing beside the table, “I understand you’re a practicing physician at Westover General Hospital.“

“That’s correct.“

“And you’ve been there how long?”

“Six years.”

“In your own words, could you tell this court what transpired on the night of April 22^nd of this year.” Resting one hand on his papers, Farrow waited.

“I was getting ready to leave for the night,“ Hallman said, “when they brought in this young woman...”

“Could you clarify ‘they?’ ”

“The ambulance, of course. He gawked at Farrow with a look that said, ‘How else do you think she got there?’

“Is this young woman in the courtroom, Dr. Hallman?”

“Yes, that’s her right there.“ His long, well-manicured fingers pointed at Lana Northwood.”

“Let the records show that the witness indicated Lana Northwood. Go on, Dr. Hallman.”

“Seemed like she’d climbed into the tiger cage at the zoo. Her arms were covered with scratches... some of them quite severe. Her face... She was crying during the examination. I tried to get her to tell me what had happened, but she was too... distraught. I guess it was too much for her.”

“So you believe Miss Northwood’s mental state may have been affected during this crisis.”

“Objection, Your Honor,” Sendrhea protested. “Dr. Hallman is a physician, not a psychiatrist, therefore he is not qualified to comment on Miss Northwood’s mental state.”

“I will sustain that,” Kingsley said. “Stick to the facts, Dr. Hallman.”

“Did you finally get to talk with her?” Farrow said.

“Half an hour later,” Hallman said. “She told me what happened.”

“She told you an alien scratched her, is that right?”

“Objection. Leading.” Sendrhea remained in her chair.

“Sustained.” Kingsley had interlocked his fingers. “Watch your line of questioning, Mr. Farrow?”

“To the best of your recollection, what did Miss Northwood say?” Farrow asked.

“She told me one of those furry aliens scratched her?”

“Those were her exact words?”

“Yes.”

“A furry alien.”

“That’s right.”

“Did she refer to this... furry alien by name?”

“As I recall, she did not.”

“Did she describe the alien?”

“How could she? They all look alike.”

Sendrhea rose to her hindpaws. “Objections, Your Honor.”

“On what grounds?” Kingsley asked.

“The witness is injecting his own opinion,” she said. “We don’t all look alike. Males have those fine hairs at... uh, around the perimeter of their ears.”

“It’s hard to tell males from females when you can’t see the male’s...”

“Males have genitalia, but they keep it inside most of the time.”

Kingsley banged the gavel three times. “We’re not here to discuss the male’s reproductive organs. Objection sustained.”

Farrow tapped his pen on the table, looked at it. “Dr. Hallman, how would you describe Miss Northwood’s wounds?”

“Serious.”

“Serious? Life threatening?”

“I wouldn’t say that. When she was brought into the hospital she had been severely scratched. Her arms and face...”

“Dr. Hallman has already stated that fact,” Sendrhea said, remaining in her chair.”

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“I was merely questioning Dr. Hallman as to the details of Miss Northwood’s wounds,” Farrow said.

“Do we really need to hear that?” Sendrhea asked.

Kingsley leaned forward. “I’m rather curious as to the nature of these wounds. Proceed, Dr. Farrow.”

“Dr. Hallman.” Farrow indicated the physician with his hand stretched out toward the witness stand.

“Both her arms had furrows, you know, taking into consideration that the aliens have four digits, and therefore, four claws. Both her left and right cheeks had scratch marks, although these were not as serious as the ones on her arms. Miss Northwood also received scratch marks on her abdomen in a sort of... crisscross manner. Like she was scratched left to right, and then right to left over the same wound.”

“Her abdomen?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you, Dr. Hallman,” Farrow said. “I have no further questions.”

“Dr. Hallman,” Sendrhea said. “Did Senha (Sĕ nah) Northwood...”

“I’m sorry...”

“Forgive me, Dr. Hallman. Sometimes I revert to my own language. ‘Senha’ is a form of address, like Miss or Mrs. Let me ask again: Did Miss Northwood tell you if her alleged assailant was male or female.”

“She told me a female attacked her.”

“You’re sure about that.”

“Quite sure.”

“So she referred to her attacker as ‘she’ and ‘her.’

“That’s right.”

“Dr. Hallman, I’m sure you had ample opportunity to study Miss Northwood’s injuries. In your professional opinion, sir, can you say for certain that a Tereskàdian, either myself or another female currently living in Colbert’s Landing or visiting somewhere in this province, was responsible for those wounds?”

Hesitation. Too much hesitation.

“Dr. Hallman, I asked you a question.”

“Miss Northwood said...”

“I didn’t ask you what Miss Northwood said.”

“I can’t say for certain.” Quietly, like a cub teasing his younger brother.

“So you can’t say for certain that those scratches were caused by a member of my species.”

“No, I can’t.”

“Let’s talk about the wounds. We’re talking about the three distinct areas, the arms, the face, and the abdomen. In your opinion, which ones were the more serious?”

“I’d say the arms.”

“What about the face?”

“Like I told Mr. Farrow, the scratches on her cheeks were not that severe.”

“So in other words, this... furry alien really did a number on her arms, but held back when... she scratched her face, restricting the scratches to both cheeks.” Out of the corner of her eyes she saw Farrow stand up, but before he could say anything, she said, “Let’s talk about the abdominal wounds. You mentioned that she was scratched in a.. what did you call it? A crisscross manner.”

“That’s right.”

“Were her clothes torn?”

“As I recall, they were not.”

She gaped, snapped her snout shut. The audience gasped, murmured. Kingsley banged the gavel, called for silence.

^Keep it going,^ Verdis encouraged her through their whistling dragons. ^You’re doing great.^

She acknowledged his reply briefly, returned to the witness. “Let me get this straight, Dr. Hallman. Miss Northwood received wounds to her shirt, yet her clothes... were not torn? What did her attacker do, ask Miss Northwood to lift her shirt so she could scratch her abdomen? Or maybe Miss Northwood willingly lifted her shirt so she could get scratched. How about... how about... Miss Northwood brought a change of clothing...”

“Objection, Your Honor. This line of questioning is going a little too far.”

“I have to agree with Mr. Farrow. Please refrain from this line of questioning, Sendrhea.”

“My apologies, Your Honor. I’m finished with this witness.” She glanced at Lana Northwood. If this human was scratched by a Tereskàdian or any other being with claws, her wounds were nothing like they should be.

She started to sit down, rose again. “Did you know that a hundred and sixty some Tereskàdians and the same number of whistling dragons are living up there in northern Ontario, in Colbert’s Landing, and fifty-two of them are adult females?

Farrow glared at her. “Objections. Relevance. Also, Sendrhea indicated that she was finished with this witness.”

“And about half a dozen of these females are currently visiting Westover.”

“Objections, objections, objections,” Farrow shouted, each word louder than the one before.

Three more bangs of Kingsley’s gavel. “The jury will disregard Sendrhea’s statement. Young... uh, lady, that was uncalled for.”

“I apologize, Your Honor.” Despite the judge’s pronouncement, the statement had been firmly planted in the jury’s mind.

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