Here we go.
‘Madam President, this witness has shown herself to be hostile and uncooperative. I am advised that administering any kind of drug is contra-indicated and therefore, unless you have any objection, I intend to use the truth-cuff.’
This bloody cuff again. I deliberately hadn’t asked Ellis about it because I didn’t want to know.
The unknown officer approached, carrying a box, from which he extracted a metal cuff, about six inches long, with an LED display built in. A number of lights flashed yellow.
‘Please state the nature of this device for the record.’
‘Madam President, this is a truth-cuff. It cannot lie. In-built sensors monitor the body’s reactions to questions asked. Untruthful answers will cause the lights to flash red. Prolonged untruthful answers will cause the cuff to react in such a way as to discourage any subsequent untruthful answers.’
Bloody hell!
A stir ran around the room, but no one actually stood up and said, ‘You can’t do this.’
I resolved that should Leon ever return, he and I would be having a quiet word about this. For an hour or so. Possibly longer.
Colonel Albay rose. He had no papers in front of him. Clasping his hands behind his back, he turned to me.
My mind was all over the place. I needed to focus. Concentrate Maxwell. What are you going to say? Did I admit to not being from this world? Would that be enough to free those accused of this crime along with me? I doubted it and who would believe me, anyway?
Or did I try to convince them I was indeed Maxwell? What could that possibly gain?
I really, really wished I hadn’t given up silence as an option. Then I looked at David Sands in the third row back, alive and unharmed, sitting between Schiller and Roberts, and didn’t regret a thing. I’d think of something. A voice in the back of my mind told me I’d better make it quick, because he was off.
‘Madam President, this is a simple matter. There are currently three people accused of assisting in the removal of a contemporary from his own timeline. A fourth has evaded custody and is not present today. However, if, as I suspect, this is Madeleine Maxwell, then she was the instigator and the person chiefly responsible.’
‘I understood Madeleine Maxwell was dead.’
‘I suspect that is not, in fact, the case. I believe I can prove this person is Dr Maxwell. If that is so, then the court must hear her testimony.’
‘This is not a court, Colonel.’
He made a dismissive gesture. It didn’t matter. And he was right. Once he established my identity, we were all for the short walk and even shorter goodbye.
‘Well, this seems an easy matter to resolve, Colonel. I assume DNA samples are available.’
‘They are, ma’am.’
‘And the result?’
He hesitated.
‘Close. Very close.’
‘How close?’
‘Very close.’
‘Close enough?’
He hesitated again.
‘I ask again. Close enough?’
‘The results are inconclusive.’
‘How so?’
‘They neither prove nor disprove whether she is Madeleine Maxwell. The samples are not identical. They are, however, a very close match.’
‘Are you saying she is not quite Madeleine Maxwell?’
‘I’m saying that she is and that somehow the samples have been tampered with and the results skewed just sufficiently to raise doubt.’
Helen bristled angrily. I didn’t give much for his chances if he ever found himself alone with her.
‘How can they have been skewed? Your own people verified the results.’
‘I don’t know how – I just know they were.’
‘That is not good enough, Colonel.’
‘I am convinced, ma’am, that this woman standing here today is Madeleine Maxwell. She was heard to admit it herself.’
‘Then prove it, Colonel and stop wasting our time.’
At a nod from Albay, his officer slipped the cuff over my right forearm. He struggled to get it closed. The swelling had not yet completely gone down. He tried to squeeze it shut and it hurt. I laughed. Because I’m stupid, and antagonising someone already causing you pain is such a good idea.
She didn’t even bother looking up.
‘Use the other arm, Colonel.’
‘Ma’am, the results are more accurate …’
‘Then wait until her arm is healed. I can adjourn the hearing.’
He set his jaw and nodded.
The cuff slipped easily over the other arm. He clicked it closed. It was very heavy. And very cold.
I’d like to say I had some sort of plan. That I’d thought everything through thoroughly and come up with a carefully crafted course of action that would ensure a successful outcome. Yes, I’d really like to be able to say that.
On the other hand, Mrs Partridge had told me to wing it and who was I to disobey?
Someone was talking to me.
‘Sorry, miles away. Say that again.’
He frowned and said sarcastically, ‘Should I speak up, perhaps?’
‘No. No need. Sometimes I just don’t listen.’