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OUTSIDE THE COURTROOM, Francesca avoided James when possible, but in front of the clicking cameras capturing their every move, she was cordial, feigning smiles and exchanging friendly hellos. Francesca wouldn’t give anyone reason to believe she and James hadn’t shared a bed or lived under the same roof in three months.
James wasn’t as affable. In and out of the courtroom, he made it a point to assert his imposing presence on Francesca. In the courtroom, James aimed threatening glares Francesca’s way to unsteady and instill fear. Particularly so, since one week ago, when the scandalous headlines along with photographs of Dr. Sampson and Mrs. Tremblay dining together at the Noodle House restaurant made front-page news.
James knew it was one of Francesca’s lackeys—at her direction—who’d leaked the photographs to the media. Then there was the copy of a false, unsigned rape report from the MEs office that miraculously appeared in the papers, which James suspected was also Francesca’s doing. It was a well-played hand, but one Francesca would pay for because James wouldn’t allow her to make a fool of him.
“I have no further questions for Dr. Sampson. Your witness.” James strutted past Francesca’s chest puffed, feathers spread out like a cocky peacock, to intimidate. Although Francesca held her head high, James knew he instilled the intended fear in her.
Francesca closed her eyes, searched for calm. She could only imagine how James was going to react when her questioning of Dr. Sampson was likely to lead to Noah Mulligan’s acquittal. James had been intimidating enough throughout the trial to lead Francesca to believe he’d act on his anger if she won. And Tommy wasn’t in her life to give her the strength she needed.
Panic and fear had Francesca turning eyes to the door, contemplating her escape from the courtroom. When she abandoned that as an option, she thought of throwing the case. She could do it without raising suspicion, but a risk nonetheless, which could destroy her reputation, derail the career she’d worked hard to establish, and send an innocent man to jail.
The notion had a dozen tight knots twisting in her stomach.
How had she gotten to this point?
“You’ll do fine, Frankie,” Nicholas said when he saw Francesca’s shaking hands. Francesca’s eyes said yes, but her knotted stomach told her she wouldn’t, not without Tommy by her side. She needed him, his support, and his strength, but he wasn’t there for her. “Let Dr. Sampson thump his chest before you go in for the kill, Frankie. You got this.” Nicholas reassured.
“Are you planning to question the witness, Mrs. Templeton?” the judged asked.
“Yes, Your Lordship.” Francesca took a moment to settle her nerves. “Dr. Sampson, you claim the only reason you and Mrs. Tremblay were at the out-of-the-way restaurant was out of convenience. That it was close to your office.”
Dr. Sampson’s blue eyes flicked from Francesca to the jury. “That’s right. I’m aware Mrs. Tremblay is accustomed to fine dining, but after seeing her daughter in the morgue, she was distraught, and I thought to calm her down I’d take her out for a drink. The Noodle House is within walking distance.”
Francesca turned to face the jury. Five men and seven women all had their eyes on her. “Very thoughtful of you, Dr. Sampson. Have you done that before? Have you taken a distraught family member out for a drink to calm them down?”
Dr. Sampson mulled the question over searching his brain for the optimal answer. In the end, he opted for the truth. “No, I haven’t, but as you can appreciate, Mrs. Tremblay and her husband are big philanthropists, and their contribution to this city has been extensive. I felt an obligation to go the extra mile.”
Francesca caught the pleased smile on Mrs. Tremblay’s face in the gallery. “Yes, the Tremblay’s are a very wealthy couple who have been very generous with their money.”
James shot to his feet. “It’s well known how generous the Tremblay’s are, Your Lordship. Do we need to waste the court’s time with repetition?”
“Mr. Templeton is correct, Mrs. Templeton. Please move along,” the judge said.
“Yes, of course, Your Lordship.” Eyes on James, Francesca, considered her next comment deciding whether to make it or not.
“Does the defense have another question for this witness?” James’ tone was berating.
“Mrs. Templeton, do you?” The judge pressed.
Francesca turned to Noah Mulligan, his eyes holding trustingly to fate, she had no choice but to proceed with her questioning. And here it goes, the point of no return, she thought, and taking a deep breath said, “In fact, Mr. and Mrs. Tremblay are so charitable they generously paid off your twin sons Harvard tuition to the tune of twenty thousand dollars.”
The hushed room instantly turned raucous. Reporters got to their feet and lobbed questions. Photographers snapped their cameras at a shocked Dr. Sampson while spectators in the gallery exchanged comments and expressions of disgust.
“I offer exhibit I, your honor,” Francesca said when the judge managed to get control of his court again. “This is proof of a payment issued from a numbered account from the Cayman Islands traced back to Marguerite Tremblay to Harvard University for Justin and Jared Sampson.” Francesca turned to a flushed Dr. Sampson. “Isn’t it true, Dr. Sampson, that this payment was made to get you to retract your findings of rape on Elsie Mulligan during your autopsy?”
Dr. Sampson took out his handkerchief to wipe the sheen of sweat already pearled on his flushed face.
“Your lunch at the Noodle House was to negotiate with Mrs. Tremblay your terms for tossing out the original autopsy report not to comfort her.”
“She’s reaching, Your Lordship.” James huffed.
“We’ve tracked down Donny Lam, the waiter from the Noodle House, who overheard your conversation with Mrs. Tremblay and who you paid five hundred dollars to wipe his memory. He had a lot to say when we told him he could be charged as an accessory. A lot, Dr. Sampson.”
James scrambled to his feet. “I object.”
“To what, Mr. Templeton?” His Lordship eyed James over the rim of the tiny reading glasses on his hooked nose.
“We were not made aware of Donny Lam as a witness,” James’ voice boomed.
“Mr. Templeton, Mrs. Templeton, was merely making a statement not calling Donny Lam to the stand.”
“It’s a, umm, a legal maneuver. She’s raising the argument to open to the possibility.” James’ voice sounded awkward.
His Lordship cocked a bushy brow. “Now who’s reaching, Mr. Templeton?”
“With all due respect, Your Lordship, I want you to question Mrs. Templeton,” James said as anger piled over arrogance.
“Very well. Mrs. Templeton, are you making a play to call on Donny Lam, who is not on the witness list, to the stand?” His Lordship asked.
“I wasn’t planning to, Your Lordship, unless Dr. Sampson believes I should.” Francesca turned to Dr. Sampson.
“No. No, there’s no need for that.” Panic dripped from Dr. Sampson’s voice.
“Satisfied, Mr. Templeton. Now sit down and stop wasting the court’s time.” The judge’s voice firm, James limply dropped to his seat.
Francesca saw the rage radiating in James’ eyes, and she thought she saw him mouth, “You’ll pay for this, you bitch.”
Panic leaped at Francesca’s throat, churned in her stomach, as the fear, raw and real, sprinted up her spine. Francesca concentrated on moving air in and out of her lungs to keep from fainting. She’d come too far for Noah Mulligan, and there was no turning back now.
Taking a long, steadying breath, Francesca said, “I submit exhibit J. An original signed copy of Dr. Sampson’s initial report of Elsie Mulligan’s autopsy stating she was raped. My office has authenticated the signature as Dr. Sampson’s.”
James bolted to his feet faster than the speed of light. “The prosecution hasn’t been provided copies of the document by the defense, your honor. I’ve only seen the unsigned document Mrs. Templeton leaked to the media,” James said with an impatient hiss.
“Your Lordship, I object to the implied accusation.” Nicholas shot out when Francesca said nothing.
“Mr. Templeton, keep the editorial comments to yourself.” His Lordship gestured James down to his seat.
“Our apologies, but my office only came across the signed document yesterday, via anonymous delivery, and we needed time to authenticate the signature.” Francesca kept her voice leveled.
“I’m sure you did.” James sent Francesca a look designed to wither.
“Is that your signature, Dr. Sampson?” the judge asked directly, and Dr. Sampson gave a half nod. “Please verbalize your response, Dr. Sampson.”
The doctor cleared his throat. “Yes, it is.”
Dr. Sampson’s acknowledgment sent shocking ripples through the gallery, and His Lordship to bang his gavel. “Silence.”
“Isn’t it true, Dr. Sampson, your drinking session with Mrs. Tremblay at the Noodle House was to discuss payment for the retraction of your rape finding from the report?” Francesca said.
From James came a desperate, “That’s supposition and proves nothing.”
“Actually, it proves a lot,” Francesca said. “Mrs. Tremblay’s goal was to pin the murder on Noah Mulligan. You see, if Noah were found guilty, his prenuptial agreement disqualifies him from inheriting his wife’s ten million dollars and their Victorian mansion and turned over to Mrs. Tremblay.”
From James again. “That’s ridiculous and absurd.”
“I wish it were. I present exhibit K, a signed copy of the prenuptial agreement.”
“The defense is wasting the court’s time, Your Lordship. I’ve reviewed that document, and there’s no such clause,” James tone sounded frustrated.
Francesca looked over at Noah. At his nod said, “This is a second prenuptial agreement, which only Mrs. Tremblay, Elsie, and Noah know bout. It was done in confidence shortly after Mrs. Tremblay found out Noah Mulligan was a...” the light of battle in Francesca’s eyes melted into compassion, “homosexual.”
The gallery burst out with shocked oohs, ahhs. Wide eyed, the members of the jury turned to one. Reporters made notes, and cameras clicked to capture it all.
“Elsie married Noah to spare him the shame society bestows on people like him out of ignorance and fear. When Mrs. Tremblay found out of their arrangement, she threatened to expose Noah’s homosexuality unless Elsie, and he signed the document.” Francesca, along with the jury, turned to gauge Mrs. Tremblay’s reaction to the statement. The indignant look on her face spoke volumes.
“Noah is innocent of your daughter’s murder, Mrs. Tremblay,” Francesca said firmly. “He was never intimate with Elsie, and you knew that. It’s why you paid Dr. Sampson to conceal the rape. Noah loved Elsie as a true friend does their best friend. He tried to get Elsie cleaned of her drug dependency when you gave up on your daughter. Noah supported Elsie, spent nights by her side, encouraging, helping her give up her drug habit. He offered her a crying shoulder when she needed it, when her family, you Mrs. Tremblay, deserted her. Noah was never interested in Elsie’s money, and he would have never hurt her. Their marriage was one of convenience that worked for both of them, but not so much for you. Their marriage shook that strict moral code of yours right down to the foundation of your self-important life. Your close-minded arrogance has prevented the authorities from finding your daughter’s true killer.”
When Francesca finished delivering the heartfelt speech, the courtroom broke into frenzied mayhem. Journalists ran out of the room to file their reports, some shed tears, while others remained stunned in their seats.
In the front row of the gallery, a wide-eyed Peter murmured, “Jesus Christ! Frankie just won the case against James.”
Mrs. Tremblay rose and stomped out while Mr. Tremblay eyeing her with disdain, refused to join his wife in her dramatic exit.
With tears streaming from his eyes, Noah Mulligan gave Francesca an appreciative nod.
At the defense table, Nicholas pumped his fists in victory.
Lamont sat back in his gallery chair with a satisfied smile. “And that’s how it’s done.”
From the back of the room, tucked away in a corner, Father Matthew watched Francesca with pride before sneaking out the side door.
