Winner Take All (27 page)

The sole woman demanded, “You have something new on Erin Brandt?”

Kirsten pointed to where the attorney descended the central staircase. “I’ll let her answer that.”

The palace’s marble-tiled foyer had been desecrated by the insertion of a sentry station and a bulletproof glass wall. Maggie Heller spoke at length to the guard, who permitted them entry with evident reluctance.

Maggie Heller, on the other hand, was struggling with an overload of suppressed excitement. Her black legal robes fell to her ankles and added an august dignity to her stodgy frame. “An excellent turnout, Ms. Stansted.”

Kirsten pointed to the hovering press agent. “It was all his doing.”

The lawyer led them back to where the staircase wound its way around an antique brass-caged elevator. The mosaic tiled walls were adorned with generations of stern-faced portraits. “This should make for a decent backdrop.”

Kirsten tried to hang back and have the photographers focus on the berobed woman. But Heller would have none of it. The best Kirsten could do was to position herself two steps lower. The journalists gathered at the base of the stairway. Other attorneys and clients began clustering beyond them. Heller said, “I will speak to them in German, to ensure accuracy, yes?”

“Fire away.”

Kirsten assumed she knew what was being said because they had
discussed it over lunch. What she had not anticipated was the fire Heller brought to the occasion. Her passion echoed through the high-ceilinged chamber, galvanizing even this cynical little group. The journalists drew out pads and pens and scribbled away, while the photographers bounced around, searching for the best angle. To heighten the drama, Heller drew a sheaf of papers from an inside pocket, unfolded them so that the official seal at the bottom right corner was visible, and held them up between herself and Kirsten.

As the photographers caught them in impermanent flashes, Heller switched to English and related, “I have informed the press that we are entering suit without delay. I will start with a
Schriftsatz
, an initial motion accusing Erin Brandt of child abduction.” She turned back to the cameras and continued in irate English, “My brief will anticipate the flaws within the German legal system. Each parental abduction case becomes an inspection of all the bad things within American society—guns in schools, terrorist threats, drugs, and so forth. The defense attorney will link himself to the judge, saying how
we
know Germany is a better place for this child.
We
know it would be bad to uproot the child a second time.
We
know the child is better here, in this good and orderly land.”

Her rage was so forceful she crumpled the pages as she shook them for the cameras. “Together the defense attorney and the judge will do their best to overlook what has
really
happened. That the mother abandoned both child and husband, and disappeared for
months
. That she returned and kidnapped the baby, and now has refused to appear before the American judge as ordered.”

Heller then turned and gave Kirsten a hard-eyed smile. “Your turn.”

It would have been better to discuss this first with Marcus. But there was a momentum building, and she had to go with what her gut was saying. Which was, “Because the pattern of German courts is well known, we are also instituting an action in the European Court of Human Rights. Not against Erin Brandt. Against the entire German family court system. For their abject failure to protect the rights of this kidnapped little girl.”

She might as well have doused the reporters with gasoline and set them alight. The chamber became filled with the baying of journalistic
hounds. Heller had to shout the words “That is enough for now. My office will have more information for you tomorrow.”

As the PR agent took that as his cue and began shepherding his charges outside, Heller steered Kirsten around and guided her up the stairs. “Leave them panting for more, isn’t that what you Americans always say?”

T
HURSDAY MORNING
Judge Sears opened the court proceedings with “I fail to see either the mother or the child here this morning, Mr. Caisse.”

“Extenuating circumstances make it impossible for her to arrive on such short notice, your honor.” He rifled through his briefcase to avoid meeting Judge Sears’ eye. “I have letters from the German opera house and several high officials begging the court’s understanding on this matter.”

She accepted the papers and perused them briefly. “Mr. Glenwood, do you care to respond?”

“Your honor, we ask that the court issue an order of contempt against Ms. Brandt.”

“You have the relative papers?”

“Filed this morning, your honor.” Marcus lifted two notarized copies from his briefcase. He handed one to Hamper Caisse and another to the judge. When he returned to his table, he could not help but cast a mournful glance at the open case. Beneath his files lay the videotape received that morning from Kirsten. No note had been attached. When he called her London hotel he had learned that she had checked out the previous day. No word as to where she might now be.

“You anticipated this event, then.”

“Up to now, all we’ve had is a series of smoke and mirrors, your honor. It was fairly safe to assume that anyone willing to lie so freely would continue to defy this court.” Marcus pulled a second sheaf of
papers from his case. “We ask that attached to the contempt order, the court assign costs to both Ms. Brandt and her attorney.”

She gave the papers careful inspection. This was a critical issue, for it would effectively hold Hamper Caisse liable for all of Marcus’ costs in the event that Hamper’s client did not appear. Court costs were shared between client and lawyer only when the court believed the attorney was involved in subverting justice, but did not have sufficient hard evidence to open criminal proceedings.

“Mr. Caisse?”

“Your honor, I am here as directed.”

“But your client is not present.”

“As I explained, she could not appear on such short notice.”

“Have you had any communication with your client?”

“Any discussion between client and counsel is confidential, as this court knows.”

“I am hereby asserting my judicial authority. The principal issue before this court is the welfare of this abducted child.”

“The child was not abducted, your honor. Far from it.”

“Then why is your client not here to attest to this fact personally?” Judge Sears leaned forward. “The court is hereby ordering you to disclose any information related to the whereabouts of this child.”

“With respect, your honor, I must refuse.”

Marcus tensed. Hamper’s calm obstinance did not bode well.

“Mr. Caisse, you seem awfully relaxed for someone who is only two steps from being held in felonious contempt along with his client.”

“Your honor, I feel this court may be missing something of grave importance here. But I wanted to wait for opposing counsel to finish cantering around the courtroom on his high horse before we got down to business.”

“Proceed.”

“Your honor, it has come to my attention that opposing counsel has had direct contact with my client, and without my being present.”

Judge Sears gaped at Marcus. “You went to Germany?”

“London, your honor,” Hamper corrected. “And it wasn’t Marcus. It was his fiancée.”

“Is this true?”

“Not only is it true, but the woman is still there! I heard from my client earlier today that this woman has actually followed her back to Germany.” Hamper Caisse slipped pages from his briefcase, dropped
one set into Marcus’ lap, then carried the others to Judge Sears. “Hot off the press, your honor. Faxed to me this very morning.”

Beneath the London
Times
logo and yesterday’s date was a society photograph. Kirsten stood beside a smiling dark-haired Erin Brandt. The look on Kirsten’s face knotted Marcus’ gut far more than the fact that she was with Erin. Or how Hamper knew more about Kirsten’s whereabouts than he did himself.

“Well?”

Marcus wrenched his gaze away from the photograph. “I asked her to go over for me, your honor, and find a private detective to serve the papers.”

“I can’t understand what possibly caused you to take such a course of action.”

“Well, I most certainly understand!” Hamper Caisse commanded the stage’s center point. “Opposing counsel doesn’t trust his own client! Mr. Glenwood here decided to send his own fiancée over on this sneaky, underhanded mission to try and find out just exactly what is going on! Just look at that picture, your honor! Does Mr. Glenwood’s lady friend look disgusted with what she’s found out? Of course not! She’s seen the truth! And the truth is, Dale Steadman is a liar and a fraud. He’s not fit to be in the same room with that poor child, much less hold sole guardianship!”

“That’s enough. I am required to recuse Mr. Glenwood only if his being a witness to actions could be prejudicial either to the case or his own client.”

“But his fiancée was over there acting on his behalf, your honor! He’s dancing too close to the flame here!” He almost shouted with adrenaline glee. “It’s completely improper for him to have had this sort of communication with my client! Most especially when I was four thousand miles away, and without giving me proper notification. For all I know, he has used his fiancée to obtain factual information which has a direct bearing on the outcome of this case.”

“Mr. Glenwood, would you care to respond?”

But Hamper’s tirade was not so easily stemmed. “Your honor, Mr. Glenwood is no longer in a position where he
can
respond. He is unable to act objectively with respect to his client. He and his fiancée clearly have access to information that I need to examine in order to defend my own client’s position.”

“Mr. Caisse—”

He raised his voice to override the judge. “I therefore ask that he be sanctioned for this highly improper conduct. Furthermore, I ask that he be removed from this case, and that you instruct the plaintiff to seek other counsel.”

Judge Sears had no choice but to ask Hamper the question she had sought to avoid. “Do you intend to call him as a witness?”

“I feel compelled to, your honor. In matters of such a sensitive nature, we’ve got to scrutinize everything with great care. Only he can testify to the substance of the conversation with my client.”

“Only my fiancée,” Marcus corrected.

“Which is the same thing, your honor.”

Judge Sears’ gaze held more caustic reproach than Marcus could bear without flinching. “Have you spoken with your fiancée about this matter?”

“I knew nothing about this at all, your honor.”

Hamper interjected, “May I remind the court that Mr. Glenwood is not under oath.”

Judge Sears chose to ignore him. “You have had no contact with her at all?”

“Only through the mail.” Marcus lifted the package. “Apparently she has videotaped her contact with Ms. Brandt.”

“What?”

“I assumed Erin Brandt would not be returning today. So I wanted a reputable detective to photograph the document handover, with someone from my staff there to ensure it was delivered intact. Obviously she misunderstood, and assumed she should make the contact personally.”

“So what you have there is a tape of the documents being delivered?”

“I assume so. It arrived just as I was leaving this morning.”

“You have not seen it?”

“No chance yet, your honor.”

“Court is adjourned for twenty minutes. You gentlemen join me in my chambers. Mr. Steadman, perhaps it would be a good idea if you joined us as well.”

Judge Sears waited until she was midway down the side corridor to lash out at Marcus. “How
dare
you put me in such a position!”

“I am deeply sorry, your honor. Kirsten overstepped the proper bounds.”

“By about four thousand miles.” She had to tilt her head until her hair spilled over the robes, but Marcus still had the distinct impression of being the smaller of the pair. “Why didn’t you instruct her more properly?”

“When she left, I was still in the Wilmington hospital, recovering from the boat blast.”

Hamper stepped to the plate. “That is no excuse, your honor.”

“I agree.” Pliers could not have tightened her face any further. “This way.” As she passed the court recorder’s desk, she added, “Join us, please.”

The judge’s office was a bare-walled alcove whose single dirty window overlooked the parking garage next door. She seated herself behind the desk and said, “Be seated, gentlemen. Mr. Steadman, do you wish to continue with Mr. Glenwood as counsel?”

“Absolutely, your honor.”

“I am inclined to recuse him from this case.”

“I’d ask that you not do that. If he’s made any mistake here, it’s for caring too much.”

She reached across the desk. “Give me the tape, please.”

“Your honor, I have to object—”

“Save it until after we’ve seen what we have here, Mr. Caisse.”

The videotape began with the elevator doors opening onto an irate little man compressed into an overtight suit. The camera was held at knee level, and was shot through a wide-angle lens that made the little man appear even broader. Dale snorted at the image, but said nothing. The scene was shot in colorless accuracy, the sound quality excellent save for a rustle matched to each of the man’s steps. Marcus realized the camera had to be fitted into a case held by the unseen man’s side.