Los Angeles law firm Levine and Webster — is to serve as co-counsel together with Alex Sedaka.”
Martine Yin’s voice was coming from the television window in the web browser on a computer.
“Ms Phoenix is in a relationship with a woman called Eugenia Vance, who works at the
Standing outside the courthouse, Martine was wearing her snooker vest, speaking to the camera in a dry, clipped tone. She wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to depart from her trademark blue jacket, but she had worn the snooker vest a couple of times before and on both occasions had got a positive response in her mailbag. And she had a particular reason for wanting to emphasize her figure today. The network had been talking about putting her behind a desk in the studio and were evidently getting some funny ideas about parachuting in some ambitious spring chicken to fill her slot.
“Ms Phoenix’s participation was opposed by the prosecution. But after a long sidebar, the prosecution’s motion was denied. The DA’s office declined to say afterwards whether they would file an interim appeal.”
A woman’s hand reached out and clicked on the button to pause the news report. Then she returned her attention to the computer in front of her. With a click of a button she launched an E-mail package and started preparing a message to [email protected]”.
This would put the fear of God into the bitch.
Friday, 12 June 2009 — 19:45
“So how did you manage to overcome her objections? asked Martine over her hors d’oevres of Torchon of Duck Foie Gras with House Poached Adriatic Fig in Muscat Wine.
A succession of light waves from the wrought iron candelabra rippled across the lace tablecloth. Ten minutes earlier, they had entered The Little Door. As they stepped through the wooden doors to the Patio, it had been like one of those movies where you pass through a gateway into another dimension. In an instant they had left the city behind them and entered a rustic world of bougainvilleas, ferns, a tiled fountain and a Koi pond. They could even see the moon through the open skylight.
“I don’t want this to end up on the evening news,” said Alex.
Martine made an up-and-sideways gesture with her right hand.
“Strictly off the record.”
This was one of Martine’s haunts. She had invited Alex here as a contrast to the slumming they had done last time, opposite the snooker hall. But Alex had no intention of letting her pick up the tab.
“We used a bit of gentle persuasion.”
He didn’t really feel comfortable telling her about the incident. It would probably make him sound like a bully. But the practice of law was a dirty business. They both knew that.
“We?”
Martine raised her eyebrows with a delicate smile as her hand — holding a piece of brioche toast — paused in mid-air, awaiting his answer.
“Paul Sherman and I.”
“You mean you blackmailed her?”
“I prefer to call it bribery,” he said with a guilty smile, after a short pause.
He attacked his own hors d’oevres of Farmers Market Butter Lettuce and Steamed Spring Vegetable, a light starter to allow room for his Filet Mignon and Roasted Fingerling Potatoes.
“So what was the carrot?”
This was a pun, alluding to piece of carrot poised at the end of his fork.
“I sold it as a fight for a man’s right to a second chance.”
His facial expression was nervous, as if he was expecting a torrent of skeptical laughter or a cutting verbal response. But Martine’s smile was both piercing and bewitching.
“And what did Sherman use as the stick?”
“What do you mean?”
“Come off it Alex. You were playing Good Cop / Bad Cop.”
He held up his hands in a gesture of helplessness, caught in the glare of Martine’s headlamps.
“Okay,” he acknowledged reluctantly. “You’ve got me. We did a little arm twisting.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. It must be pretty hard for her, with her lover working at a rape crisis center.”
“That’s a personal matter, They’ll just have to work it out for themselves.”
“You make it sound so easy. Imagine what it must be like for Eugenia Vance: one minute she’s doing her job, next minute she gets handed an injunction telling her she’s not allowed to have any contact with the victim.
“I’m sorry. I may have sounded a bit callous. But the judge didn’t exactly have a choice. He had to do it to avoid a conflict of interest.”
Martine’s face turned suddenly serious.
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”
Alex had an uneasy feeling when he heard the words… and the tone.”
“What do you mean?”
“I
Friday, 12 June 2009 — 21:15
It was quite late when Andi arrived home. She had spent the day going over the case-file with Alex and then stayed on for a few hours after he left. It had been exhausting. They were racking their brains trying to figure out how they could refute the DNA evidence. All the other evidence could be effectively challenged and the seeds of reasonable doubt sown.
But the DNA was a problem — a
But all of this was still way down the line. First they had to resolve the issue of trial venue. That was the big question that was going to come up at the pre-trial in two weeks time. And that was what Andi had to focus on now.
Gene was lying on the bed in her underwear in the dimly lit room, watching the wall-mounted TV, when Andi entered. Andi took off her street clothes in the walk-in closet by the door and then shuffled back into the bedroom barefoot and in her underwear, expecting Gene’s usual warm welcome. But this time Gene, lying on her side, didn’t even turn to look at her, leaving Andi hurt and confused. Gene was never cold like this, even if she was in a bad mood.
“Where have you been?” asked Gene, her eyes glued to the TV.
Andi was still perturbed by the fact that Gene was only presenting her with her back. She sensed that Gene had had a bad day as she climbed into onto the bed behind her lover, gently massaging Gene’s raised shoulder.
“At the office. I had a lot of paperwork to clear up. I’ve just started on a major case.”
“I know. I had a visit from a process server.”
Andi stopped massaging, but left her hands in place. She
“I was going to tell you. I didn’t think they’d serve it that quickly.”
“Are you angry?”
Gene turned round, brushing off Andi’s hands in the process. There were tears of anger in Gene’s eyes. This
