Counsel (Counsel #1) (18 page)

"I met her before I was handed the case," I confess, and watch amazement turn to humor as I relate the events of my first run-in with Angelique. Jodi giggles uncontrollably when she learns about the false name.

"Everyone finds that funny, except me," I mutter.

"Of course, you do, Thorne, admit it," she challenges, struggling to control her mirth.

"Maybe a little," I confess, smiling reluctantly.

"Here, you should read this." I look up, surprised, as Jodi slaps a file onto my desk.

"What's this?" I ask, reaching for it.

"Something I asked Jon to have couriered over."

"Jon's back?"

"No, he’ll be back tomorrow evening or the following day. He says hi, by the way, and he wants to catch up as soon as possible to brief us on the new developments."

"Did he say what they were?"

"He'd prefer to tell us in person, and I agreed that we'd meet the morning after he gets back. I had Bec block out the time in your diary."

"Okay," I reply distractedly, already perusing the contents of the folder.

"Where the hell did you get this?" I look up in shock.

"I spent the last hours doing research with some help from someone on Jon’s team. It was easier to find after what we’ve learned about her in the last few days. The more official stuff you probably know, it’s what Jon uncovered when you asked him to investigate her."

I run my hand over the graceful lines of the figure in the photograph. The headline above the image of her and a male dancer reads,
An Angel Lands In Our Midst!

"You should read the rest, Adam. She's been through a lot, and I'm sure there's a lot more to her story than I managed to find out."

"Thanks," I mutter, my eyes glued to the page.

"No need to thank me. I'll leave you to it," she says and turns to leave. I acknowledge her with a lift of my hand.

Angelique Bain made her debut in the challenging and highly coveted role as Giselle at Oper Leipzig last night. Her grace and the ethereal quality of her dance epitomized the meaning of her name. She displays superb technique, but her true triumph is in the combination of her mesmerizing grace and emotional commitment to the role of Giselle.

The pairing of Luke Grantham’s Albrecht with Angelique’s Giselle is inspired. Their chemistry in both dance and emotion is palpable, their pas de deux, one of the most touching I've witnessed. I predict that these two will go far, hopefully as partners. Bain and Grantham will be lauded and sought after as principal dancers by Companies around the globe.

The Dance Director, Master Gustav Reinhardt, when asked to comment on the couple, said they were two of the most gifted dancers he'd seen in decades, adding that their romantic involvement adds to the passion and authenticity of their onstage performances.

So this Luke Grantham had been her boyfriend. I wonder where he is now and just what happened to take her from the high of a European debut to being a dancer and prostitute in a Boston club. Even from the somewhat grainy newspaper image I can tell that his tender expression is more than acting. She stares up at him, adoration clearly visible in her expression. This man loved her and she him. My heart twists at the realization, but I appease myself with the thought that he can longer be in the picture.

I read review after review every one lauding her performance. At only eighteen, Angelique had been a professional ballerina and made her debut on the international stage. She gained the attention of not only the German press; she and this Luke Grantham also received coverage in France and England, his homeland, even New York papers ran articles. Every one predicted that they’d become stars of the modern ballet era, but it was her performance that critics unanimously extolled the virtues of. They called her talent something truly unique.

And almost every article mentions their offstage romance. I find myself conflicted, upset by the knowledge that the first woman to impact me so deeply once loved, may
still
love, someone else when I've never felt that way about anyone. My dismay is tempered, however, by the knowledge that she'd, at least, experienced that kind of love before ending up at Liaison.

From New York reports, I discover that Angelique had, from the age of seven, trained at an exclusive ballet school in that city. I have difficulty tearing my eyes from the images of her, the graceful lines of her body to the breathtaking sight of her airborne, legs extended in an amazing feat. In one shot, I get a close-up view of her face. She’s younger; her face fuller, but those sensual lips are unmistakable. Her doe-like eyes bore into me from the inanimate image as they do in life, causing the same, familiar tightening in my chest.

I reclip the photocopied sheets the way Jodi had so meticulously presented them before turning to the next. My heart sinks, and a despairing groan leaves my throat at the sight of the photograph. She’s lying prone onstage, her head turned to the side, one leg bent at a frightening angle. A male dancer I recognize as Grantham hovers over her, a look of horror etched on his face. Several other, obviously concerned, dancers surround them.

Giselle Performance Comes To A Spectacular End,
the headline announces.

Last night’s audience at Leipzig Opera House witnessed a horrific accident as Angelique Bain, in her role as Giselle, appeared to misjudge a leap, making it impossible for her dancing partner, Luke Grantham, to execute the catch. The romantically involved pair rehearsed this sequence for months and performed it to spellbound audiences and spectacular reviews before this awful mishap.

The curtains were quickly lowered to give the injured ballerina, who lay prone and surrounded by her distressed boyfriend and fellow cast members, privacy. The Company's Dance Director, Gustav Reinhardt, appeared visibly upset when he addressed the shocked audience to advise that Ms. Bain would be moved to a hospital. He offered either a refund or an opportunity to attend another performance. Whether audience members decide on a refund or seeing the performance again, one thing is certain; they will not be mesmerized by the grace and beauty of Angelique Bain's performances for the remainder of this season’s run.

We were unable to ascertain the extent of Miss Bain's injuries at the time of publication and can only hope that this wonderfully talented dancer makes a full recovery and lives up to predictions of a stellar career.

The next article is in German, I can’t read what it says, but the photograph is the same, except that this one is in close-up. I clearly see her pale face, eyes shut, long, dark lashes emphasizing her pallor. Grantham’s hand gently cups her cheek as he leans over her.

I feel sick to my stomach, sick to think that such a gifted and talented young woman ended up at Liaison, and sick at the memory of how disdainfully I'd questioned her about teaching ballet. I felt bad afterward, the first time, ever, I’ve regretted my treatment of a witness during questioning; but now, having read this, I feel like a total bastard.

.

.

The next day, despite my heavy workload, I find my mind frequently wandering to thoughts of Angelique. I’m still coming to terms with the fact that she’d been a professional ballerina, poised for greatness when it was all so tragically torn away from her. A short, follow-up article in the New York Post reported her as having suffered several serious breaks in her right leg and predicted a long and painful recovery. It went on to speculate about whether or not her injuries would cost her her career. The Post had been the only newspaper to carry a follow-up story, the others had, most probably, moved on to the next sensation.

Jodi, when we meet to revisit our proposed witness lists for the Cordi trials, doesn’t mention the folder of explosive information. I am, as ever, grateful for her circumspection because I’m not ready to discuss what I’ve learned or reveal more of my feelings for Angelique.

Finally at home, I do what I’ve thought about all day. I return to the file, trying in vain to find answers to the questions swirling around in my head. What happened to her when she returned from Europe? What happened to her relationship with Grantham? Jodi’s notes say she could find no trace of Angelique having been treated in any hospital or medical facility in New York City or state, and she'd obviously not traveled straight to Boston. So where did she go? My thoughts remain chaotic for the rest of the night and later, in bed, I toss and turn for hours before succumbing to sleep.

I wake early, my mind returning to Angelique only moments later. In an attempt to clear my head and knowing him to be an early riser, I call Nick, who agrees to a match in forty-five minutes. The mental and physical effort of our ensuing session focuses my mind enough to ponder the verdict in Justin’s trial and concentrate on the upcoming Cordi trials. But intermittently, like now, I find my thoughts straying to Angelique.

"Adam?" Jodi looks at me expectantly.

"Sorry…I was just thinking; what did you say?"

"We have a number of trials to get through, how do you want to approach this?"

"Given that they’re facing the same charges and the shared nature of the evidence in both cases, I want to petition to have Silvio and Enzo tried as co-defendants. Because of the inclusion of the prostitution-related charges, I think it’s best that we try Joseph separately. We should discuss our intentions with their attorneys as soon as possible."

"Do you think they’ll agree?"

"Silvio’s and Enzo’s attorneys should see the benefits."

"What do you think of Travis Jones?"

"He’s built a formidable reputation in divorce and family law, but I think he’ll be out of his depth with this trial. If either he or Joseph had any sense, they'd appoint Bryce as lead counsel with him as second-chair. Bryce is a very good attorney."

"Who's lost almost every one of his cases against you," she remarks dryly.

"His overall track record’s good. As for his record against me, I’ve told him he chooses lousy clients. Anyway, back to your question about how we approach these trials. There are so many related to this case; I've been thinking that you and I should work on the Cordi brothers' cases and get Tess to second-chair for me on the smaller ones," I suggest, watching carefully as she processes what I’ve just said before continuing.

"
Or
, if you like, I could suggest to the DA that you prosecute the Moretti, McGill and Barnes trials and have Tess second-chair on the Cordi cases. It would be a great opportunity for you."

"You'd do that?" she asks incredulously.

"Of course, why wouldn’t I?"

"I don’t know…." She hesitates, looking unsure.

"You underestimate yourself, Jodi."

She purses her lips thoughtfully. "No. I prefer to second-chair on the Cordi cases," she says.

"You can do it," I insist, my tone a cross between chastisement and encouragement.

"I appreciate your confidence in me, truly, and if we were working on any other case, I'd probably jump at the offer, but I’ve spent so much time preparing for the brothers’ trials that I’m personally invested. Also, it means a lot to Jon to have Joseph brought to justice, so I want to play a part in making that happen."

Most prosecutors would leap at the opportunity to lead a case, especially one related to such a high-profile one as the Cordi trial. It speaks volumes about Jodi's integrity and commitment and also her feelings for Jon that she’s refused. I admire her decision.

"Fine, but I’ll need you to concentrate solely on the brothers' cases; we can't afford the time and attention it would take to have you seconding on the smaller ones as well. If you'd prefer that Tess not be involved, I'm happy to suggest someone else to Bristly."

"Adam, it's fine.
Really
," she adds at my skeptical look. "I think it's a wonderful idea, she’s smart and good at her job; besides, she’s familiar with the cases, which I’m sure you considered."

"That’s generous of you given your experience with her. I'll try and see Bristly today, and I'll confirm it with you and Tess once I get the go ahead.

"And Jodi, I’m personally thrilled to have you see the brothers’ trials through with me," I say as she turns to leave. She smiles at me bashfully over her shoulder.

By six p.m., we’ve still not received word from the jury. Jodi decides to leave for the evening, and I'm left feeling strangely restless. As if drawn by a magnet, I return to the folder of information on Angelique. It's still a mystery to me why, given the kind of money she earned at Liaison, she's living in such a modest building in an equally modest neighborhood. I don’t know why exactly, but the knowledge that she hasn’t used that income to build a lavish lifestyle comforts me.

About half an hour later, I receive notification that the jury’s been sequestered for another night. Given my inability to concentrate, I decide that I might as well go home. On the way, I realize that I’m close to the ballet studio I’d only just read about. I don’t miss the irony in the fact that I travel this route to and from work every day. I'm not sure whether it's whim or compulsion that drives my decision, but I pull into a nearby parking spot.

I pace outside the building for what seems like ages before knocking on the front door. No one answers, not that I have any idea what the hell I'd say if someone
did
respond. My brain urges me to leave, but my body refuses to obey. I wander around to the side of the building instead, surprising myself at the relief I feel at discovering another entrance. I ring the bell as the sign instructs but get no response. I try the door, equally shocked and excited when it opens, and enter after only a moment’s hesitation. A man, probably in his seventies, is dusting the counter in the small, dimly lit reception area.

"Can I help you?" he asks, eyes narrowing at the sight of me.

"Is the studio still open?" I gesture toward the closed door from which the distinct sound of classical music can be heard.

"We shut at six. That's Miss Angelique; she dances here most nights."

"Oh," my heart lurches, then speeds up erratically. "Is she teaching?"

"She doesn’t teach since the trial mess. Parents complained…dumb people …she's good to the bone that lass." He makes a disgusted sound, and then peers at me closely. "I know you…you here to make more trouble for her?" he asks sharply. "'Cause if you are, old as I am, I'll kick your ass, lad."

"I'm not here to make trouble," I assure him, touched by his protectiveness.