Justice (Counsel #2)

by Shenda Paul

  "That is correct; yes."

  "Mr. Quandt, would you tell the court when you last saw your brother."

  "I have not seen, nor have I spoken to Dieter in thirty-two years."

  "What was the last occasion?"

  "It was at our father's funeral."

  "So your father died three years after your mother and sister?"

  "He did; from a broken heart, I believe. He was not the same man after what happened."

  "After the accident?"

  "I believe it was more what happened before—of course, the accident was devastating, but what happened before destroyed our family."

  "Would you tell the court the events you're referring to, please?"

  "Frederick, don't you dare dishonor our name!" Dieter jumps up and shouts to everyone’s shock.

  "The defendant will refrain from interrupting, or he will be removed," Judge Notley commands. "Counsel!" He calls on Purcell.

  "I apologize, Your Honor." Purcell turns to join the already animated discussion taking place between his second-chair and their client.

  "Mr. Quandt," Jodi addresses an obviously upset Frederick. "Are you all right? Do you need a moment?"

  "I am fine. I would like to get this over with."

  "I understand, Sir, just let me know if you need a break. Would you please relate the events that led to your mother and sister's deaths?"

  "Mother was a nurse, and Father was headmaster at our village school. Our family was a happy one; at least, we were until two nights before the accident. It was the middle of January, and there was talk about us staying home the next day because the snowfall was bad. We had dinner together as we always did. Mother cleaned up after and sent Caterina to have a bath. I was doing my homework in the living room. I remember complaining that if I didn't have to go to school, I could do it the next day, but Father, who was reading in his chair, insisted that I do it then. Dieter had already completed his and was in his room.

  "Mother wanted to make heiße schokolade…hot chocolate…for us, and she wondered what was keeping Caterina. She asked me to get her, but Father said he wanted another book, so he would go. A short time later, we heard Father shouting. Mother and I ran upstairs, and before Father could stop us, we saw Caterina half-clad and Dieter naked on his bed. ‘Bathe her and take her to her room,’ Father ordered our crying mother. Caterina, too, was crying. I could not understand what was happening.

  ‘You are disgusting… no better than a dog!’ Father told Dieter with so much disgust. I had never heard my father speak to anyone that way before.

  'What is happening?’ I asked both Father and Dieter, but they did not answer. Dieter was ashen-faced. ‘I love her,’ he told Father. ‘You do not know about love. You are meant to protect your sister, not defile her. Get your trousers on and meet me in the barn. You have ten minutes, or I will deal with you in front of your mother and sister,’ Father said.

  "I asked Dieter again what was happening. ‘Go to your room,’ he told me. ‘No,’ Father ordered, ‘I want you to see what happens to dogs. Get your coat and hat.’

  "When I arrived at the barn, they were already there. I was shocked to see Dieter tied to a post. He wore only his trousers; his shirt was flung on the ground. Father held a horsewhip, and I could not believe my eyes when he whipped Dieter. I cried out for him to stop, but he ordered me to stand back and watch. ‘This is what happens to vile dogs,’ he said. He beat him until he collapsed, and I was so shocked, I stopped screaming. He carried Dieter back to the house.

  "Mother was still crying when she came out of her and Father's room. She near fainted when she saw what father had done. ‘Where is she?’ Father asked.

  ‘I gave her a…how do you say?...a sedative,’ Mother said. ‘We should call the authorities in the morning. You should not have taken matters into your own hands, Kurt.’

  I had never seen Father look so broken. ‘No one will know of our shame,’ he said. ‘Tomorrow, you will take Caterina to stay with your sister, and you will make sure she understands what happened is wrong. Did she say how long it has been happening?’ ‘It started some months ago,’ Mother said, weeping loudly. ‘What did we do wrong, Kurt?’

  ‘I don't know; may God forgive us. Perhaps I was too lenient on the boy; perhaps I showed him too much love. I can only try to rectify that now and make sure it never happens again.’ Father saw me standing there and sent me to bed with a warning. ‘Your brother is not a good example of the man you should become,’ he said.

  'Take Frederick with you in the morning; I need time alone with Dieter.' That was the last thing I heard him tell Mother before he went into his study and shut the door.

  "The weather was too bad for us to leave the next day. I spent most of it on my own. Father forbade Mother or me from going into Dieter’s room. He took food in for him. I don't know if he cared for his wounds. Caterina stayed in my parents' room with my mother.

  "The next morning, Father, Mother, Caterina and I had breakfast before he packed our bags into our car. We soon left for the two-hour journey. Mother drove carefully, but she did not see the truck come around a bend. Mother and Caterina were killed instantly, and I was in hospital for three months.

  "When I returned home, Father was a shell of the man that he had been. He had sent Dieter away to boarding school, and we never talked of that awful night again. Father visited Dieter, but I only saw him three times between then and my Father's death. Today is the first time I've been in the same room with my brother since our father’s burial."

  Fredrick draws a long, broken breath, its rasping sound breaking the stunned silence in the room. "Mr. Quandt, are you all right?" Jodi asks solicitously.

  "If you could give me a moment," he answers as a female arm comes into shot and hands him a glass of water. "Danke, liebling," he murmurs.

  "I'm ready, Miss Maddox," he says moments later.

  "Would you please tell why, after all this time, you have decided to reveal those tragic events?"

  "Father… he was a good man. He thought he was doing the right thing to protect our family and our future; my sister's, my mother's, mine, even Dieter’s, I feel sure. He died believing Dieter had learned his lesson, and that he would never do such a thing again. Having witnessed his punishment, I believed it too.

  "My brother, sadly, no longer wanted to be part of our family. Over the years, when I read of his success, I rejoiced. I longed to have him back, and I wondered about him often after he moved to America. But I did not once think he would do something like that again. I thought that he had chosen the wrong and sinful way to show our sister love, or that he had gained such a perverted version of love from a book he read or some person he had listened to. I truly believed that he realized how wrong his behavior had been.

  "When you contacted me, Miss Maddox, and told me of the harm Dieter had done, I felt it was time to break my silence. I love my brother, and I want him to know I'm not doing this out of anger. I'm doing this because I love him."

  Jodi thanks Frederick and announces that she has no further questions.

  Purcell declines to cross-examine. I'm not sure what, if any, influence Quandt may have had on the decision, but I'd like to think he felt enough love and regret to save his brother further ordeal.

  Judge Notley thanks Frederick on behalf of the court, and the video link is severed. Everyone's attention, including Quandt’s, remains riveted to the blank screen where, only moments before, the last member of his immediate family had been visible. The spell is broken only when Jodi is asked to call her next witness.

  Ingrid Svenska is nervous when sworn in, and under questioning, repeats the story she told during her interview. Jodi asks when her relationship with Quandt ended. Many years ago, soon after they arrived in America, she replies and admits that he ended the relationship. Jodi then asks why she failed to notify anyone of Quandt's obsession with Angelique. Ingrid explains that she intended to
deal with the matter once back in New York. She becomes tearful when professing that she had no idea his behavior would become so extreme and tells how devastated and guilty she felt, and still feels, about Angelique’s injury.

  "Ms. Svenska, why did you not tell Ms. Bain after learning that he followed her to Florida; why did you not tell her when you discovered that she planned on leaving New York?" Jodi presses.

  "I really can't explain. It wasn't a conscious decision. When I spoke with Angelique after what happened in Florida, she sounded relieved that her friend had sent him away: I didn't have the heart to renew her fear. That is why I kept silent when she told me she planned on moving to Boston. I now know I was wrong, and I deeply regret my actions."

  Jodi informs the court that the Commonwealth has no further questions. There’s no doubting Ingrid’s sincerity or regret, but I still can't rid myself of the feeling that she'd been remiss in her responsibilities.

  "Ms. Svenska, you say your relationship with my client ended many years ago, is that correct?" Purcell questions her.

  "Yes," she replies tentatively.

  "How many years exactly?" he asks, and she looks extremely uncomfortable.

  "Well… our relationship ended soon after we came to America, but we reunited several times. We finally ended our romantic relationship about ten years ago."

  "Who instigated your reunions, Ms. Svenska?"

  "Sometimes it was Dieter, and sometimes I did."

  "Did either one of you seek to renew your relationship more than the other?"

  "Ms. Svenska?" he probes at her hesitation.

  "I did," she admits, looking embarrassed.

  "You’ve testified that my client finally severed your relationship, is that correct?"

  "Yes, he did."

  "Were you in love with Mr. Quandt at the end?"

  She hesitates again, her eyes quickly darting around the room. She blushes when they come to rest on the defense table.

  "Ms. Svenska?"

  "I was," she says, her voice catching.

  "Are you still in love with him?"

  " I lost whatever affection I held for Dieter years ago."

  "Are you sure you weren't jealous of Ms. Bain; that you didn't invent the story about my client's obsession and admission that she looked like his deceased sister? You were jealous, were you not? That’s why you falsely accused Mr. Quandt of showing interest in the young Ms. Bain."

  "Angelique was a child when I met her; she was my best student. Her mother expressed concern about Dieter’s present, so I questioned him. By the time we traveled to Leipzig, I regarded Angelique not only as my charge but as a little sister." Ingrid looks appalled at his suggestion.

  I don't believe you're being completely honest, Ms. Svenska. I think you were, that you might still be, in love with my client. I believe you lied about the details of your argument in Leipzig. You were jealous of the attention you imagined he had been paying Ms. Bain. Why else would you not have told her or her parents about the alleged conversation with my client? Why would you not, as the person responsible for her wellbeing, have told someone? You were jealous, and…"

  "Objection, Your Honor; badgering," Jodi interjects.

  "Your Honor, I'm trying to ascertain why the witness would not have told anyone about such an alleged damning conversation."

  "I'll allow," Judge Notley rules.

  "Ms. Svenska?" Purcell returns his attention to a rather rattled-looking Ingrid.

  "Dieter did tell me about Caterina, and he did say Angelique looked like her," she responds in a quivering voice.

  "Did you or did you not withhold the details of that alleged conversation from Ms. Bain, her parents, from anyone who, if the conversation had taken place, you should have informed?"

  "I did," she concedes.

  "I have no further questions for the witness, Your Honor," Purcell says, looking distinctly satisfied.

  Court is adjourned until nine-thirty the following day, and I call our driver to ensure he's waiting.

  "Do you need any help?" I ask Jodi outside the courtroom. "Angelique and I have a meeting at five, but I could meet you back in the office."

  "I think I’ll be okay, thanks."

  "Okay, I'll be in early tomorrow, in case something comes up," I reply and then join Angelique, Matt, and Samuel. The rest of our contingent has left to avoid the media crush.

  "Same drill?" Samuel asks, and Matt and I both nod.

  "The car's waiting where we were dropped off; don't stop, no matter what they say or do," I caution them as we make our way out.

  "Ready, Darling?" I ask Angelique, tilting her chin to look up at me.

  "Yes," she says, but her eyes tell me she’s nervous.

  "It’s almost over," I console her and, pulling her into my body, step outside.

  "Angelique, how did you feel when hearing how close you came to suffering the same fate as Caterina Quandt?" a male voice shouts. Angelique stiffens, and I tighten my hold, urging her forward.

  "Ignore them," I whisper in her ear as yet another innuendo-laden question is hurled at us.

  "Fucking parasites," Samuel mutters as he opens the car door. I get in first and scoot across to the far side in case some reporter moves around the car to harass Angelique. She slides in next, followed by Samuel. The cacophony is blessedly muffled when the door shuts. Matt gets into the front passenger seat, and the driver takes off. I breathe a sigh of relief, thankful that we’ve managed to get Angelique away relatively unscathed.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  "It's starting to take shape," Angelique tells Brett, her eyes lighting up with excitement as we survey the nearly completed paths.

  "They’ll be finished next week. I want to discuss the gazebo next," he announces, leading the way.

  "Are you pleased with how it’s looking, Darling?" I ask, delighted to see the change in her. She'd been on edge when we arrived home, and I regretted having agreed to this meeting with Brett. The moment we stepped into our fast developing garden, however, I realized what a perfect foil to our morning it would be because Angelique calmed almost the instant Brett engaged us in discussion. Dieter Quandt, I’m pleased to note, has no place in our home, in this garden; in our life.

  "I'm ecstatic. It's just the bare bones, but I can visualize it complete. What do you think?" she asks in turn.

  "If you’re happy, then so am I, but I feel it’s looking great," I tell her, running my fingers down her cheek.

  "I'd like to use recycled columns, weathered to match the age of your property," Brett explains his vision for the finished gazebo. Angelique and I instantly agree.

  "What are the next steps?" I ask as he leads us to another area.

  "We'll plant the trees and shrubs," he says and then explains his plan at length, pointing out the position in the far corner for a large elm. "It's resistant to Dutch elm disease and will eventually shade almost this entire area in summer," he adds, saying that it will be twenty feet tall when planted and is fast growing. He points out the areas designated for more trees. "All will be fifteen feet or more when planted," he confirms when I ask.

  He lists flowering dogwood, names several smaller shade and fruit trees, and when she asks, assures Angelique that he'll leave photographs. "We can substitute anything you’re unhappy with," he stresses before explaining his plans for under-planting and flowerbeds.

  "I've noted your request to include an abundance of blush pink peonies, Adam," he adds.

  "Thank you!" Angelique looks up at me with delight.

  "They mean a lot to me too," I say, returning her smile.

  "The lawns, potted trees, and topiaries will be the last to go in. We're running on schedule, so you can cross the garden off your list of things to worry about," Brett assures us when saying goodbye.

  Back inside, I excuse myself to make a work-related call, and Angelique takes the opportunity to call Grac
e to fill her in on the day’s events in court. She re-emerges with puffy eyes, and I wrap my arms around her.

  "Today was just a lot to take in," she explains as I pull her down onto the sofa. We lie in comfortable silence then, sharing gentle kisses and caresses. Later, over dinner, I finally raise the trial and express, again, just how proud I am of the courage she displayed.

  "Having you there made all the difference," she responds emotionally. "This is hard, but I’m blessed to have your love and support and that of our family and friends. To me, this trial is just another necessary step to move on with my life— our life. "

  "I hope you know I'll always be here for you, Angelique, in all things, and like you, I can’t wait to put all of this behind us."

  "I do, m'fhíorghrá, thank you." She kisses my cheek.

  "Do you think he'll be convicted?" she asks, almost fearfully.

  "Without a doubt. With the combined charges, he's facing a potential of ten years imprisonment. In the meantime, we'll follow up Quandt students, and if we uncover anything suspicious, we’ll do whatever we can to encourage an investigation by New York authorities. Whatever happens, he won’t be bothering you again; I’ll make sure of that."

  "I felt so sorry for Frederick Quandt. I even felt compassion for Dieter," she admits. "His father’s punishment seems barbaric for a parent to have inflicted on his child. I can't help wondering if he would have been better off with psychiatric help. Then, I think about the entire family… and that little girl…." The tears she'd been holding back finally spill over. I cup her face and wipe them with my thumbs.

  "It's fine to be upset and to cry for his family's pain, for what you've suffered," I comfort her.

  "I was so lucky," she murmurs. "Despite the accident, I count myself lucky, and I see my inability to dance professionally differently now. I'll always feel shame and regret about my time at Liaison, but I no longer feel resentment about the accident. It was a tragedy, but it brought you into my life."

  I take both of her hands in mine. "I hate that you felt forced to make that decision, but I can't deny that it brought us together, so I’m conflicted like you. I can't forgive any of the people who took advantage of your vulnerability, though; and the thought of what could have happened with Quandt—that nearly makes me lose my mind."