Web of Evil

Helga called the next morning at eight. 'So you know where you're going?' she asked.

Ali had lived in California for years. She knew her way around Beverly Hills. 'The West District Courthouse, right?'

'Close, but no cigar,' Helga said. 'Your husband wanted this divorce in a hell of a hurry. In California, if you don't want to wait in line for court time, you can hire a private judge. I told him fine, as long as I got to choose the judge, which I did. Judge Alice Tennant's court is a few blocks away from there in what used to be a private residence.'

'I didn't know there was any such thing as a private judge,' Ali muttered.

'You do now,' Helga returned.

Helga had referred to Alice Tennant's courtroom as a private residence, but the term hadn't done the place justice. Mansion's more like it, Ali thought an hour and a half later when she pulled up in front of the two-story porticoed edifice with lions guarding either side of a gated entrance complete with a circular drive. Helga was waiting on the front porch, pacing back and forth in front of a pair of Art Deco doors radiant with what looked like genuine Tiffany stained glass. Beyond the glass doors was a marbled foyer, its old-fashioned elegant ambience marred by the mundane and thoroughly modern presence of a wand-holding uniformed security guard and a metal detector.

They were directed into an ornate room that had probably once served as a formal dining room. A magnificent, hand-carved sideboard at the far end was covered with a silver coffee service, plates, cups, saucers, and silverware, and a collection of breakfast pastries that would have put most self-respecting hotel buffets to shame. The display came complete with a uniformed butler who handled the pouring.

Ali was sipping freshly squeezed orange juice and nibbling on a deliciously flaky croissant when Paul's attorney, Ted Grantham, came rushing into the room.

'Paul's still not here?' Grantham demanded of Helga.

'Not so far,' Helga returned with a tight smile.

Ted Grantham was someone Ali knew slightly. He had been a guest at their Robert Lane home on several occasions, and he was a regular attendee at Paul's daylong Super Bowl extravaganzas. Now, though, Ted barely acknowledged her. Refusing offers of coffee, he paced back and forth in the entryway, making one brief cell phone call after another. By five to ten, when Paul had yet to arrive, Ted was downright frantic.

'So where's his bad boy?' Helga muttered under her breath. 'Hope he's not planning on keeping the judge waiting.'

But it turned out that was exactly what Paul seemed to have in mind. At three minutes after ten, a bailiff summoned all three of them into the judge's chambers.

Judge Alice Tennant was seated behind an immense partner desk that reminded Ali of one she'd seen in an antiques shop in the idyllic Cotswold town of Stow-on-the-Wold. Dwarfed by the desk, Judge Tennant was a sixty- something with flaming red hair and a temper to match.

'My time's very valuable, and you know I don't like being kept waiting, Mr. Grantham,' she snapped as they filed into the room. 'So where exactly is your client? Was he aware that he was expected here at ten this morning?'

'Yes, of course he knew,' Grantham said hurriedly. 'I've been trying to reach him all morning. He isn't answering any of his phones. The calls keep going straight to voice mail, and he hasn't called me back, either.'

'I was given to understand there was some urgency about our doing this today,' Judge Tennant observed. 'About Mr. Grayson wanting to have his divorce finalized in a timely fashion.'

Grantham looked uncomfortable. 'Yes,' he said. 'There is something of a deadline.'

'Because?'

Grantham glanced briefly in Ali's direction before he answered. 'Well,' he said reluctantly. 'Actually, Mr. Grayson is due to be married tomorrow.'

'I presume that would be to someone other than the wife who happens to be here right at the moment?' Judge Tennant asked. Her sharp blue eyes focused fully on the squirming attorney, whose forehead, by then, had popped out in a very unlawyerly sweat.

'Yes,' Grantham muttered. 'That would be correct. To someone else. I'm sure I'll be able to locate my client in the next little while. If you could find a spot for us in this afternoon's calendar'

Alice Tennant's reply was brisk. 'There is no afternoon calendar. As it happens, I'm leaving town right after lunch,' she said with a cold smile. 'You'll have to check with my clerk to see if it's possible to reschedule for sometime next weekif that's all right with you, Ms. Reynolds. I understand you've driven all the way over from Arizona.'

'Of course,' Ali said quickly. 'Next week will be fine. I want to stay on until this is sorted out.'

'Excellent,' Judge Tennant said.

'Perhaps you could see your way clear to hand this off to another judge' Grantham began.

Helga started to object, but Judge Tennant silenced both attorneys with a single wave of her hand. 'I was contracted to deal with this case,' she said severely. 'I have no intention of handing it off to anyone. Once the next court date is set, I trust you'll notify your client that he will be present on the appointed day and at the appointed hour. Please remind him that I may be a private judge, but I can nonetheless cite him for contempt of court. Is that clear, Mr. Grantham?'

'Yes, ma'am,' Grantham replied contritely. 'Quite clear.'

'Just for the record,' she added. 'If I hear that any kind of marriage ceremony is performed tomorrow without your client being properly divorced from Ms. Reynolds beforehand, I'll see to it that he's charged with bigamy, which happens to be a criminal offense. Is that also clear?'

'Yes,' Grantham said. 'Very.'

'All right then. See my clerk.'

Ali couldn't help feeling a bit giddy at the idea that Paul's absence at the hearing had left Twink's lavish plans for her wedding day in utter shambles. Hurrying out into the corridor to wait while Helga Myerhoff and Ted Grantham dealt with the court clerk, she almost collided with a man rushing toward her from the security checkpoint.

'Ali!' he exclaimed. 'Don't tell me the hearing's finished already.'

Ali recognized the new arrival as Jake Maxwell, one of Paul's fellow network execs. She was surprised to see him there; surprised to think he'd squander some of his precious time on Paul's legal issues. Jake and his ditzy wife, Roseanne, weren't high on Ali's list of social acquaintances any more than Ted Grantham was.

'Hi, Jake,' she said. 'We're done for today. What brings you here?'

At least he had the good grace to look sheepish. 'You know, moral support and all that.'

'Well, you missed on that one,' Ali said. 'Paul didn't show.'

Helga emerged from the courtroom wearing a grim smile. 'Thursday morning. Ten A.M. again.' Then, looking at Jake, she added derisively, 'Oh, Mr. Maxwell, you must be Mr. Grayson's cheering section. I'm afraid the match has been rescheduled for next weeksame time, same station. See you then.' Dismissing Jake, Helga turned back to Ali. 'Is that all right with you?'

'Thursday is fine,' Ali said. 'I can stay that long if I have to.'

Ted Grantham entered the hallway. Jake quickly gravitated in his direction.

'Why isn't Paul here?' he asked.

'Beats the hell out of me,' Grantham replied heatedly. 'He blew off our court appearance, and now the judge is pissed at me.'

'Did you check with April?'

'Of course I checked with April. She has no idea where Paul is. He never came home last night.'

The glass doors closed behind the two men, taking the rest of the conversation outside with them.

'So he didn't come home last night,' Helga observed. 'Not good. Not good.'

'It sounds amazingly familiar to me,' Ali said.

'Well,' Helga said, 'if Paul Grayson knows what's good for him, he'll cancel his wedding and make the cancellation a media event all its own.'

'Why? The bigamy thing? Would Judge Tennant really put him in jail for going through with the wedding?'

'Absolutely,' Helga replied. 'Alice Tennant takes a dim view of those kinds of marital shenanigans. Her ex,