—

An abrupt shift took place in the prosecution only two weeks before the trial was to begin. The senior trial attorney for the prosecution would be not Karla but a Canadian named William Steyn. Karla later told me how this happened.

She said, When I learned that the court administration had assigned a Canadian criminal lawyer to take the lead on my case, I was very angry at the whispers that my expertise in international white-collar crime did not transfer in court to violent war crimes. Or that I knew only civil law. None of the excuses made sense. I was furious. I had built the case, read thousands of files and travelled to three continents. I had won the confidence of our witnesses. Now a man was to take over all my work? I was so angry that I would have left The Hague if it had not been for the trust the women had put in me.

Steyn had never lived in Europe and spoke no language but English. He was so new he got lost walking to meet the team to review the case. He was the least informed in the room. But he had been assigned to lead.

Karla said, I knew that he was impressed as he watched Joop pull up files and papers before I asked for them, as he saw Sue show each woman’s spreadsheets anticipating my next point. I had built a team that respected and liked each other and he must have felt my anger. But he only said, Thank you. Once I have read through the witness files, I will review with you my line of questioning.

I answered, This is not possible.

Karla had worked with many men like William Steyn, men accustomed to having authority. He said, It will have to be possible.

The witnesses expected to be questioned by her. They might not come at all if an unknown man would be questioning them. It had taken years to build their trust.

And then William Steyn did something she did not expect. He stood up and said he had a plane to catch. Karla asked where he was going and he said he was going to Foča and he would meet her again in two days’ time.

He was met at the Sarajevo airport by three vanloads of military police to accompany his armoured vehicle. After a winding drive through the mountains on the old Austro-Hungarian routes, he was protected by 250 men from the French army who appeared at every side road in more armoured vehicles. They drove him past the destroyed mosque, past the high school, and they went with him into the empty Partizan Sports Hall up on the hill across from the police station. They visited the Ribarski fish restaurant and inside he was flanked by armed soldiers. Old men smoked and drank coffee and stared at him with centuries-old suspicion. He got back in the car and felt embarrassed by the level of security around him.