The nurse looked at him askance. “It’s not that easy to tell at six weeks,” she remarked wryly.
With one hand on her belly, Kris reached out with her other. “It doesn’t matter, does it?”
He looked down at her, smiling, and shook his head. “No, no. Today’s brought a lot of shocks, that’s all. I barely know what I’m saying.”
At this, Kris’s face hardened slightly and her feelings of protection became tougher. “There’s something else we have to do.”
His face appeared sad but, finally, as resolute as her own when he looked down at her. Then he nodded and returned his face to the screen once more. The life on the screen, their child, was little more than an amorphous dark shape. As he watched it, Daniel’s hands clenched and his face watched the pulsating blob grimly.
“When I think of what he could have done to you...” His voice trailed away in anger. Kris reached across and took hold of his hand, gripping him tightly.
“It will stop, it has to stop,” she told him. “I don’t care who he is, but people like him can’t simply do whatever they want. There are always consequences.”
“There are always consequences.” Repeating her words, Daniel gave a tense smile. “Perhaps more than we realise.” The two of them sat in silence for a moment, watching the screen.
“It’s been a long time since I’d seen him, Francis, I mean.” Daniel did not take his eyes away from the dark beat of life against the grey. “I’ve had a couple of meetings with Maximilian, but nothing came of those.”
As he spoke, Kris continued to hold his hand, saying nothing, letting him continue in his own time.
“He’s changed, changed a lot. And in some stupid way, I’m partly responsible.”
This was too much for Kris. “You are not responsible for him!” Her tone was sharp, suddenly annoyed at her husband’s self-introspection.
He smiled and now glanced at her, his eyes shifting in the light, pupils dilating and contracting under complex emotions. “Partly responsible. When I first met Francis, he was still a teenager, I think, certainly still at Harvard. Maximilian and I... I wouldn’t exactly say we were close: I don’t believe anyone gets truly close to Max.” He shrugged at this and smiled. “Hell, at that time, nobody got close to me, not really. We were made for each other.
“I think Francis realised that. He saw Max reacting to me in some sort of father-son relationship. It wasn’t—in the end it was nearly always business.”
“Nearly always?” prompted Kris.
He nodded. “Yes. Even I have to admit that there was sometimes a little more—as much as Max and I were willing to give. Francis saw that, and he also saw this... man who was able to take what he wanted, when he wanted. For whom pretty much everything and everyone was property.” Daniel pulled a face at this, shaking his head. “What he couldn’t see, because I didn’t show it, not to anyone, was the emptiness inside, the slow hollowing out—dead, drying up.” He shrugged and looked directly at Kris. “What he couldn’t see was a man who got everything he wanted—except for the one thing he really wanted.”
She nodded, watching him. Despite the terrors of the morning, he was now calm within himself. His shoulders, as broad and strong as ever, no longer heaved with emotion as he thought of what was to come, and his face was resolute and calm. His tics, signs of anxiety and nervousness, had gone, and after considering the unborn child on the screen he turned to face her again.
“Let’s call the police,” he told her. “If this is to be done, then best it were done quickly.”
Chapter Twelve
And so began what was to be one of the hardest days of her life
When she descended in the elevator with Daniel the doors opened to reveal three men dressed in dark suits, all of them a build that was close to that of her husband’s though with somewhat more stolid expressions on their face than the look of grim determination that he wore. These were to be their escort while the arraignment took place, not because Daniel believed that they would particularly be under threat but rather that media attention in the case was already beginning to grow.
Kris had seen clear evidence of that the evening before. At the hospital she had spoken to police after Daniel had called them, outlining what had happened to her that morning. Daniel was silent as she spoke, only commenting when asked a direct question by the police and supporting Kris’s statement. After the words that had passed between them that morning, however, his silence was of a different nature now. While she spoke he listened carefully, and once or twice his face twitched in pain as she recounted how Francis and his associate had hit and abused her. When she had finished his resolve was as fixed as hers.
And then, when they returned to the hotel and switched on the television set, they saw that Francis Roth and Matthew Doherty had been arrested. There was a bustle outside a large, Italianate house on the outskirts of San Francisco where Roth was living, his being the arrest that was filmed live with a tagline at the bottom indicating the simultaneous arrest of Doherty. Excited questions were thrown out by reporters there, with the professional voice of the anchor offering a commentary as the clip was shown.
Francis looked even younger on camera than he had in the flesh, the effect enhanced by the look of raw fear and confusion on his face. Kris felt nothing but satisfaction that justice was to be done, but as he was shown being bundled into a car Daniel was more ambiguous in his response, flicking the switch so that the TV went black.
“And so it begins,” he had said to no-one in particular.
He had refused to explain himself, but that night when they had lain in each other’s arms, comforting and consoling, she had felt his body awake and alert. She herself could not sleep for a long time, but when she finally drifted away she was still aware of him lying there, his body stiff and prone as he looked up into the darkness.
When she awoke, the light outside was the glimmering grey of dawn. When she glanced at Daniel, he rolled his head slightly down towards her, his eyes sunken into his face, deep, dark grooves having formed during the hours of sleeplessness. “Did you sleep at all?” she asked. “A little,” he replied, but she was sure this was a silver lined untruth to prevent her worrying any more than she had to.
The arraignment had been set for the following day, they had been informed by the lawyer Daniel had hired, an old acquaintance of his who had gladly agreed to support them during the trial. While it was not essential for them to attend the lawyer had said that it would probably be to their advantage to understand what was going on directly, particularly if Francis was to be given bail. Kris had agreed immediately, though once again Daniel had said nothing at first: following that, however, he had made arrangements for security.
Kris had taken particular care over her dress that morning. Until now, with the exception of her wedding day, she had given into the carefree, somewhat hippyish spirit of the city. As she exited the lift, however, she was wearing a sober, two piece suit with a pencil skirt that reached to her knees and a modest jacket that covered her white blouse, the whole in a dark blue like the suit that Daniel wore beside her.
“Mister and Misses Stone,” one of their companions said. Kris did not correct them that she had kept her maiden name. The man was shorter than Daniel but broader across the chest, with close-cropped hair that was lightly coloured. Like the other two security men he wore sunglasses and had an earpiece the easier to be able to receive and send messages. “We have a car waiting for you outside.”
As they crossed the lobby, Daniel remained silent and Kris lifted her head, feeling all the righteousness she could muster as she saw camera crews waiting outside, having been refused entry by the hotel management. As the door opened, however, and they went outside, the relations between them reversed.
Thrown by the babble of noise and press of people seeking to push their way past the security guards, microphones outstretched, Kris panicked slightly and backed away, pressing against Daniel. He, by contrast, became a model of quiet ef
ficiency, using his strength alongside that of the three men to clear a way through the cameras. “We have no comment to make at this time,” he told them firmly but with great self-assurance.
“What does this mean for relations between you and Mister Roth’s father?” someone shouted from the back. “Weren’t you very close at one time?”
“As I have said,” Daniel repeated himself, “we have nothing further to say at this time.”
Within moments the car door was open and Kris half fell, half stepped into the vehicle, followed quickly by Daniel. She watched the camera crews and reporters nervously, but he merely shook his head slightly as he told the driver to move on. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had this much attention,” he said quietly to himself, “but my love of the press doesn’t grow any greater with each passing year.”
The journey to the District Court was not a long one, but when they arrived there was already a small crowd outside, mainly more members of the media. “I thought the press was meant to be dying out,” growled Daniel, which made the member of security in the front laugh wryly.
“There’s been a lot of attention in this one,” the man replied. “Anything involving the Roth family is bound to attract interest.”
“Don’t I know it,” murmured Daniel beneath his breath. When Kris looked at him quizzically, however, he merely smiled and squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry,” he told her quietly. “It’ll be okay.”
Stepping from the car, several photographers and a couple of the cameras moved over towards them. Kris felt her heart beating ever faster and, now that she stood in front of the imposing building of the court, she thought for a moment that she would collapse in a state of nervous exhaustion. Despite the fact that he had slept even less than her, however, Daniel was a rock for her then, guiding her by the arm very gently through the mass of people, answering questions tersely and directing attention away from her. On the steps of the building, for a moment they paused as one of the security men opened the door. Everything appeared to be a whirl around Kris, but as her head span for a second she glimpsed a figure that caught her attention—a very well-dressed woman, probably in her forties, wearing sunglasses and a dark hat that obscured most of her face. As she looked towards Kris and Daniel, the woman raised a hand to her glasses, adjusting them, and for the briefest instant Kris caught sight of a flash of green against the sunlight.
Inside, a small, neatly dressed man with a balding pate and wearing spectacles came towards them. “Mister Stone,” he said. “I’m so glad you’re here. If you’d like to follow me...”
This was Nathan Armstrong, the lawyer that Daniel had hired to represent them. “This should be fairly straightforward today. I’d be surprised in most circumstances if the arraignment were to last even an hour, although to be honest these are rather unusual circumstances.”
The lawyer was nervous and talked a lot, but it was the kind of nerves that came from an abundance of energy, his eyes moving rapidly around the room and taking in the guards who attended Kris and Daniel. He was clearly observing everything, and while Kris would have expected this kind of ceaseless activity to make her more jittery, in fact his attention to detail and almost ceaseless flow of information began to calm her, conveying the sense that whatever happened here was a man who knew what he was doing.
As such, it was with some surprise that she felt Daniel stiffen beside her. Looking up at him, she saw that his face had gone pale and for a few seconds he was unable to walk, his eyes staring straight in front of him.
Following the direction of his gaze, she saw another group of people on the far side of the pillared entrance that led to the court. Two—both women dressed in sombre clothes—were seated, and one, the younger of the two and perhaps in her forties, appeared to be crying, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief passed by the other woman.
It was, however, one of the three men standing who attracted her attention. His hair was silvery white, and his face lined and mature in years. Though it was difficult to ascertain his age precisely, Kris would have placed him in his sixties had she made a guess. Though not tall, he stood perfectly straight, in contrast to the other two, younger men, who leaned in talking to him quietly. When he saw Daniel and Kris, however, he paid no further attention to his companions but instead returned Daniel’s gaze directly. For a moment, Kris was reminded of Felix Coltraine, but then she changed her opinion. This was the kind of man that Felix would have wanted to be, with eyes that were hard and ruthless in a way she had never seen before. She did not need to ask who the man was, and a shudder went through her spine as she realised the enormity of the task that lay before her.
“Mister Roth wished to avoid a formal arraignment,” Armstrong was telling Daniel as he caught the direction of both their gazes, “but I followed your directions and, well, here we are.” The lawyer appeared to share Kris’s tension as he saw the older man staring at them, and for a few seconds seemed to have reached the impossible stage of being speechless.
Eventually, they were shown into the court. As they walked by, they came close to the other group that was Roth’s family with a group of others, presumably relatives of Matthew Doherty. Daniel looked as though he would say something to Maximilian Roth, but the other man now refused to meet his eyes and instead walked, still bolt upright, to take a seat on the left hand side of the court. The woman, a blonde with flawless cheek bones and bright red lips that did not seem quite appropriate for the occasion, did not have such reservations, however. Seeing Kris and guessing who she was, she leaned forward and hissed a single word: “Whore!” At this, however, the older woman next to her started to disapprove: Kris was sure that she would have continued, had it not been for one fierce glare backwards by Roth senior.
“Max’s third wife,” Daniel said very quietly into her ear, bending down so that no-one else would hear them as they entered the court. “Francis’s mother.”
“He has been married three times?” Kris asked, not entirely surprised at the age difference between the two of them. Daniel, however, shook his head. “Five,” he mouthed.
“And is the older woman his latest wife?” she asked, frowning.
“No. I haven’t had the... pleasure of meeting her. The current Misses Roth is one of his nurses, I believe. No, that woman is Jane Malberry, his second wife and still very much part of the Roth clan. She’s the only one of them that had anything like the business acumen and ruthlessness that old Max displays. If any of them will give us trouble, it’s going to be Jane.”
Before them was the bench of the court, still empty as they entered, with a dock to one side and officers of the court waiting in attendance while a number of people filed through onto the seats. This court was not particularly large, being one of the side rooms used for such hearings, but as the judge entered, a Hispanic woman in her fifties, dressed in a black suit and with a bearing that indicated she did not like wasting time, everyone stood. Because her attention had been taken up by the entrance of the judge, Kris had not seen guards bringing in Francis and Matthew to the dock.
After preliminaries, the judge read from the charge sheet as Francis stood before them. He was trembling visibly, and his face was marked with a large, purple bruise where he had been punched by Daniel, a mark that was far more vivid than that he had given to Kris. His hands were cuffed in front of him, and he was dressed in the same suit that she had seen him wearing the night before on television, obviously not having been changed in his cell. She could just about hear his mother crying across the room from them. Beside him, Matthew looked down at the floor, unable to bring up his gaze to anyone else in the room. Glancing away from these two and across the seats, Kris’s attention was caught not by Francis’s mother but by old man Roth, staring at his son with a hard expression.
“He doesn’t look happy at any of this,” she said to Daniel.
Daniel shook his head again. “I’m not sure how much anything that Francis does makes him happy.” Armstrong shot them a nervous look as they
were speaking, and Daniel nodded, indicating his assent that they would remain silent as the charges were read out.
“And under Penal Code sections 21a and 240 PC, the defendant Francis Alexander Roth is charged with the crimes of attempted rape and assault and Matthew Roth with assault with intention to cause grievous bodily harm. How do your clients plead?”
The lawyer for the defendants, a rather rotund figure, stood and replied: “Not guilty.”
The judge nodded at this, the expression on her face indicating that she was not particularly surprised. “And do you have any further depositions to make?”
The lawyer continued for a few moments, indicating the previous good standing of his client and the connections of the Roth family to the community of San Francisco, as indicated in part by the presence of his father and mother. After hearing this, the judge called upon Daniel’s lawyer to make his deposition.
Having listened to both of them, she then turned her attention to the final part of the arraignment proceedings. “Part of my duty as laid out by the State of California,” she said in a sober voice, “is to determine the level of bail for the defendants.” She paused for a moment and looked around the court, her eyes coming to rest for a moment on Francis and Matthew. “In light of the deposition made by the prosecution, and also the very real possibility that the defendant will seek to evade his trial, it is our judgement that any request for bail is to be denied.”
As she spoke, Kris was sure that the judge’s eyes turned upon her for a moment. Her words, however, caused a storm in the courtroom as the Roth lawyer leaped to his feet and began shouting, joined by Francis’s mother and the two men. Turning to face them, Kris saw that Maximilian Roth did not divert his gaze from directly in front of him, impervious to the commotion surrounding him while Jane Malberry spoke quietly into his ear.
While the clerk of the court called for order, the judge stood and, with a nod towards the officers who guarded Francis and Matthew, stepped down from her seat and departed towards the rear of the court. Francis was now ashen pale, trembling as his guards led him from the stand. Matthew had still refused to look up at anyone else in the room.
Refracted Crystal: Diamonds and Desire Page 11