"Eric Frank Russell - The Witness" - читать интересную книгу автора (Russell Eric Frank)

"Olive-drab with red trimmings," Mr. Defender went on. "He is a Provost Marshal
of the Corps of Military Police."
"You didn't tell me that," Higginson pointed out. He was openly aggrieved.
"Did you tell the defendant that you were a police officer?" The witness reddened,
opened his mouth, closed it, gazed appealingly at the prosecuting attorney.
"Answer the question!" insisted a judge.
"No, I did not tell it."
"Why not? "
Mopping his forehead, Higginson said' in hoarse tones, "Didn't think it was
necessary. It was obvious, wasn't it?"
"It is for me to put the questions; for you to provide the answers. Do you agree
that the Provost Marshal is obvious?"
"Objection!" Mr. Prosecutor waved for attention. "Opin-ions are not evidence."
"Sustained!" responded the middle judge. He eyed defend-ing attorney over his
glasses. "This court takes cognizance of the fact that there was no need for witness
to offer vocally any information available to defendant telepathically. Pro-ceed with
your examination."
Mr. Defender returned his attention to Higginson and asked "Precisely what were
you doing at the moment you were paralysed?"
"Aiming my gun."
"And about to fire?"
"Yes."
"At the defendant?"
"Yes."
"Is it your habit to fire first and ask questions afterward?"
"The witness's habits are not relevant," put in the middle judge. He looked at
Higginson. "You may ignore that ques-tion."
Officer Higginson grinned his satisfaction and duly ignored it.
"From what range were you about to fire?" pursued defending attorney.
"Fifty or sixty yards."
"So far? You are an excellent marksman?"
Higginson nodded, without pride, and warily. The plump man, he had decided,
was a distinct pain in the neck. "About what time do you hope to get home for
supper?" Caught on one foot by this sudden shift of attack, the witness gaped and
said, "Maybe midnight."
"Your wife will be happy to know that. Were it not for the radio and video, you
could not have told her vocally, could you?"
"I can't bawl from here to Dansville," assured Higginson, slightly sarcastic.
 "Of course not. Such a distance is completely beyond range of the unaided
human voice." Mr. Defender rubbed his chin, mused awhile, suddenly demanded,
"Can you bawl tele-pathically for fifty to sixty yards?"
No reply.
"Or is your mental limit in keeping with what the defendant assures me to be the
normal limit of twenty-five to thirty yards?"
Higginson screwed up his eyes and said nothing.
"Don't you know?"
"No."
"A pity!" commented Mr. Defender, shaking his head sadly and taking a seat.
The third witness was a swarthy, olive-skinned character who stared sullenly at his
boots while the prosecuting attor-ney got to work.