A Twisted Ladder (68 page)

Madeleine shook her head. “Marc and I—I mean, my brother, my real brother . . .”

She paused, steadying herself. “We knew Zenon’s parents when we were kids. Zenon
had
a father. A different father.”

Whitney grunted, signaling to the jury that he doubted her veracity. “Were you aware that your father deeded the plantation over to his son, Zenon Lansky, when Zenon was still an infant?”

“No,” Madeleine said. And then, “I had no idea Zenon owned that property, let alone that my father had given it to him.”

“So, your father never mentioned
any
of this to you?” He spread his arms wide.

“No!” Madeleine said. “I had no idea!”

“Since your father is deceased, Dr. LeBlanc, I guess all we have to go by is your word.”

Ms. Jameson piped up with an objection, and the judge sustained it.

The memory of that night in the flower shop crept over Madeleine. Disturbing on its own, but in light of this news it was an absolute abomination. Her gaze stole to Zenon. He was watching her. And on his face there lurked the ghost of a smile. He must have known all along. There was another person who would have known about it as well: Chloe.

Madeleine’s blood coursed with outrage and mortification. She closed her eyes for a moment, but she knew the bramble was stretching from the shadows. From beneath the seats, curling from the corners, reaching higher, up toward the ceiling.

I’VE GOT TO CALM
down
, Madeleine told herself.
It doesn’t change what happened to Anita. It’s a separate thing
.

“Now, Dr. LeBlanc, let’s go back to the night when you found Anita Salazar in the bayou. You claim you saw the defendant wandering along the banks, near where the body was found.”

The courtroom was filled with briar, ebony, and snaking.

But Madeleine managed to say, “Yes, that’s true.”

“How close would you say he was to the body, about twenty feet?”

“No, he was probably about forty yards from the actual spot where I found Anita. He was on the opposite bank of the waterway and down a ways.”

Whitney’s eyebrows lifted with feigned surprise. “Forty yards? Did you say forty yards?”

“Thereabouts.”

“On the
opposite
bank?”

“Yes,” her voice was beginning to sound weak even to her own ears.

“That can hardly be considered near the body.”

“I assumed she’d gotten away from him, but then died from wounds he’d already inflicted.”

“Objection, your honor!” Whitney bellowed.

What did I say? Why is he objecting?

“Sustained,” said the judge. “The witness will confine her response to only answer questions posed by defending counsel.”

Joe Whitney tented his fingers to his mouth. “And you say he was wandering in impenetrable wilderness.”

“Well, yes. I suppose it wasn’t completely impenetrable,” Madeleine said. “Because he was there.”

“And later,
you
were wandering impenetrable wilderness.”

“I—yeah.”

“But you saw him clearly.”

“Oh, yes.” Madeleine said. “I was surprised to see him, because I’d never seen anyone there on the banks before. I’d never known anyone to attempt to go out there on foot.”

“So you were surprised to see him standing there in the rain.”

“Yes. I mean, no, it wasn’t raining. Well, it
had
been raining. But it stopped raining just before I saw Zenon.”

“And then it started again?”

“Yes.” The word tumbled idiotically into the courtroom.

Joe Whitney threw back his head and laughed. “So you say it was raining cats and dogs. Then it stopped, and you got a good look at Zenon, and then it started pouring again?”

She gritted her teeth. “Yes!”

He laughed and clapped his hands together. “All right, all right. Now let’s talk about the boat. You saw a boat near the body.”

“That’s correct.”

“And you assumed that it was the defendant’s boat.”

“Yes.”

“And later, after you retrieved the corpse from the water, the storm hit, it was dark and raining, and you were pursued by that same boat?”

She could feel the blood pulsing in her neck. It was clear what he was getting at. She took a deep breath.

“It was difficult to see due to the rain and darkness, but on the way back, I could hear a boat’s motor and see a spotlight. I assumed that it was Zenon’s boat chasing me, because there had been no other boats around. And Zenon had already tried to board my craft.”

Joe looked annoyed, and Madeleine felt that she had scored at least one small victory.

“But you can’t be sure that it was his boat, correct?” he said.

“Like I said, no, I couldn’t see to be sure.”

“All right Dr. LeBlanc. You testified that you ferried the body of Anita Salazar from one end of the bayou to the other.”

“Yes.”

“In the middle of a severe tropical storm.”

“Yes.”

“And when you wrecked your boat, you carried the corpse bodily.”

She paused. It was sounding ridiculous. Macabre, even.

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“You’re stronger than you look, Dr. LeBlanc.” He winked at her and walked toward the jury, then turned back and spread his arms wide. “She was already dead.”

“Yes.”

“You testified that you feared for your own life, both from the severe weather and because you thought you were being pursued. Is that true?”

“Yes.”

“And yet you risked your life to lug around the body of a woman you barely knew, and whose life you could not save?”

“Yes, I did.”

He lifted his shoulders. “Now why would you do that?”

This, at least, she could answer with confidence. “Because of the storm, I was afraid her body would get swept out to sea, and no one would know the truth about what happened to her.”

“The truth about what happened to her,” Whitney repeated, scratching his chin. “That’s what we’re trying to figure out now.”

She folded her arms.

“Dr. LeBlanc, did you know that your blood was found all over the victim’s body?”

An uneasy sensation wormed through her stomach. “No, I did not. But of course that would make sense, because I’d injured myself in several different ways, and then carried—”

“Carried her body all around the swamp. We heard all that. Do you know how much of the
defendant’s
blood was found on the victim’s body?”

She looked at Jameson, who was on the edge of her seat, but did not assert any objection.

Madeleine looked back at Joe. “None. I was told they found no evidence like that. They said that any blood or tissue from Zenon would have been destroyed during the storm.”

“Yours wasn’t.”

She straightened her back. “Yeah, but she’d been completely submerged in the water twice since Zenon got at her.”

“Objection.”

“Sustained.”

“I bled on her after I’d already pulled her out of the water!” Madeleine blurted.

The courtroom had gone so dark from the briar. Severin shifted from deep in the thorns.

Joe put his hands up in a calming gesture. “All right Dr. LeBlanc, all right. You bled on her after she came out of the water.” He sighed and folded his hands, shaking his head. “Dr. LeBlanc, you admit to being there in the swamp the night Anita Salazar was killed.”

“I wasn’t there when she was killed, but I was there soon after.”

“And you admit to being in the house on River Road where detectives found a profuse quantity of Angel Frey’s blood. Enough blood to draw the conclusion that Angel Frey had died there. Seems to me you’re the one most likely committed the murders. What do you have to say about that?”

“Objection, your honor!” Ms. Jameson interjected.

Finally!

Again the judge ordered counsel to approach the bench, and the trio hissed at each other. Madeleine’s gaze swept the courtroom. Jurors cut her with suspicious looks. Ethan and Sam seemed alarmed. Reporters were scribbling furiously on notepads. All of their faces looked strange in the briar, eyes glinting silver and faces drawn in shadow.

From somewhere above, Severin laughed.

Madeleine looked up and saw her sitting atop thick molding that ran a few feet below the ceiling. Perched the way a carved cherub might look down upon a Victorian parlor.

“You’re in trouble!” Severin chided. “You frightened up when it was your turn to send someone through, but you’re in trouble anyway!”

The lawyers returned to their positions.

“The witness will answer the question,” the judge said.

“I . . .” Madeleine stammered.

Every single eye in the courtroom was trained on her. Severin continued to swing her legs and giggle.

Madeleine tore her eyes from her and focused on Joe Whitney. “I—What was the question?”

Joe Whitney sighed deeply and leaned against the witness stand, speaking sideways to Madeleine so that he was still facing the jury.

“Dr. LeBlanc, you admit to being present at the scenes of both murders. The defendant, Mr. Lansky does not. You are the only one we can be sure was there. What do you have to say about that?”

“I saw him! I saw him there. Both times. And my father, if only he’d . . .” She stopped.

“Dr. LeBlanc, did you kill Angel Frey?”

“No!”

“Did you kill Anita Salazar?”

“No, my God, I did not! Why would I do such a thing? I’ve never even met Angel Frey!”

The courtroom erupted in turmoil, and again the judge had to bang the gavel. This time, he threatened to clear it.

Whitney continued.

“That’s right. Why would you do such a thing?” Whitney’s voice became soft, almost kind.

And then Whitney turned and looked her full in the face for a moment, and the strangest expression came across him. As though she could draw a line down the center and recognize fear on one side of it, and avarice on the other.

He said gently, “Dr. LeBlanc, have you ever had a conversation with an invisible little girl named Severin?”

Madeleine’s heart stopped.

SHE SAT FROZEN, UNABLE
to speak. Ms. Jameson balked, and was silenced by the judge.

“Dr. LeBlanc. Have you ever had a lengthy conversation with an invisible little girl named Severin?” Joe repeated.

“No, I have not,” Madeleine croaked.

“Dr. LeBlanc, may I remind you that you are under oath.”

“She’s not invisible!” Madeleine snapped.

Joe looked at her, genuinely surprised. Her mind reeled. What had she said? What could she say?

Joe Whitney gave a condescending smile. “The
whole
truth, Dr. LeBlanc. Have you ever had a lengthy conversation with
anyone
named Severin?”

Madeleine sat mute. She could think of nothing to offer in explanation. She knew her silence was damning, but she simply could not speak, truth or lie.

“I—she’s . . . Yes.”

“Can anyone see Severin but you?” Joe asked. “Because if not, I would call her invisible, wouldn’t you?”

Tears streamed down Madeleine’s face, and she started to shake.

“Is she in the courtroom right now?” Joe asked delicately but loud enough for all to hear. “Won’t you point her out for us, Doctor?”

She was speechless.
How did he know? My God, how much did he know?

“What kind of conversations have you had with this invisible girl?”

Madeleine could say nothing. She tried to speak, but failed.

Whitney sighed. “Permission to treat as a hostile witness, your honor.”

“Proceed,” said the judge.

“Dr. LeBlanc, is it true that in your conversations with the invisible girl, the topic was usually about death and violence?”

Madeleine remained mute, tears streaming.

“Your honor . . .”

“Please answer the question, Dr. LeBlanc.”

Oh, dear God
. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Forgive me, Dr. LeBlanc. Did you answer yes to the question, that the topic of conversation between you and the invisible little girl, was usually death and violence?”

She shuddered. It was over. Too late. No sense fighting.

“Yes,” she said, louder.

Melee broke out in the courtroom. Joe raised his voice while the judge banged in frustration.