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“There is a visitor for you.”
Edith managed to communicate with a sneer. The woman did never hid her distaste for Arista and her word, but she tolerated her presence as long as she was paid. And she asked a disproportionate amount of money for that hovel that’s been Arista’s residence in the past few years.
“A visitor? Who? For what?”
“I’m not your doorman.” Edith shrugged.
Of course not, Arsta thought, however you take your chance to call me by yourself just to pry on things like the old gossiper hag you are.
“Please send him in.”
Him turned out to be a her, a delicate woman all dressed in the black clothes of mourning, her hair neatly arranged and her face clean, both hid by a little hat with a black veil. Despite the good fabric of the clothes, they appeared overused, so Arista wasn’t sure if the woman was noble or not.
“Are you Arista Essendon? The lawyer?” She looked around, uncertain. Arista ignored the confusion of her room, where books and papers took every available space and piece of clothes lay on the floor.
“I am.”
Again, the woman hesitated. “I heard you’re cheap.”
“Cheaper than a man.” Arista made a face: all the clients she’d gathered in the years came to her for her convenient tariff. At first, she couldn’t had asked for more until she’d realized no one would pay her more, no matter her success. People relied on her as last chance.
However, she wasn’t prickly about her clients. Little they paid, she needed the money. She freed a chair by throwing unceremoniously the content on the floor and gestured at the woman to take the seat.
“Why don’t you tell me your story?”
The woman nodded. She sat timid, her gloved hands hid in the black gown, gripping the fabric with strength. It would be polite to offer something, but Arista couldn’t afford a stove in her two-room apartment, so she just took place in front of her.
“I am Amilia Tarin. I work as a personal secretary of Lady Modina Novronian.” Her eyes darted away from Arista’s face for a second. “Do you know who is she?”
“The owner of the Novronian Manifactory, right? It’s a textile company.”
Amilia nodded. “Lord Novron found it thirty years ago. It was a very modern fabric that included a workers’ village, just near Adda river. Lady Modina is his granddaughter, despite illegitimate, and inherit the company five years ago.”
“Someone is questioning her rights?”
Amilia’s hands tightened on the fabric. “Lady Modina had been arrested this morning for the murder of her husband, Lord Lanis Ethereld.” For the first time since the conversation started, Amilia lifted her head and looked straight on Arista’s eyes. “She didn’t do it! Modina won’t hurt a fly! Life at the village increased significantly since she has been in charge. She is our savior. And she has no reason to kill her husband.”
Arista kept her breath: that was the high-level case she’d been waiting for. Defending successfully a Lady of that fame would force people to realize that her talent wasn’t watered down by her being a woman and that she could hold her ground in court.
But, “I imagine the Lady can afford more famous, experience lawyers.” Knowing their types, “I assume most of the prominent firm already offered their service.”
Amilia shook her head, her eyes teary. “I thought that so. But for what I heard, not many want to be involved with the case and Modina refused the services of the others.” Her voice cracked. “I fear she plan to declare herself guilty.”
“For which reason?”
But Amilia didn’t answer. “Please.” She grabbed Arista’s hands. “I can’t pay you much, but Modina needs help. She can’t leave us.”
“If she already rejected others, why do you think she’ll see me?”
“I don’t know. But Modina is willing to listen.”
More than the idea of participating in a so high-profiled case, it was Amilia’s worries that convinced her. After all, Arista hadn’t become a lawyer only for the intellectual aspect of it, otherwise she could have be content in being an assistance.
No, she was there to help people too, especially the ones that other lawyers would look down to.
“What are you, again?”
“A lawyer.”
The prison watch laughed. Then halted as he notice Arista’s stare. She proceeded to pull of her pursue the official document that certified her entry to the Bar. Arista had learned to bring it always with her because people not believing her was a habit in her life.
“Fuck me, she is a lawyer,” the guard burgled as he read the paper.
“Can I see Lady Modina now?”
“Yes.” The tone was annoyed. “But she is a lost cause.”
The cell was a lot cleaner and spacious than the ones in lesser prison Arista was used to: there was even a real mattress in there. However, it was dark grim as everything else and except for two neatly blankets and a piss pot it was almost empty.
Modina sat on the bed, back against the wall, legs hanging leisurely over the mattress. She barely ducked her head at Arista’s entrance. What hit Arista more wasn’t Modina’s obvious beauty but her silent determination. She was a delicate creature, with sharp features protected with bright blonde hair, skin fairy. But the eyes! If one was able to look over the emptiness, they could see the iron at the bottom of them.
“I am attorney Arista Essendon.” She remained standing in front of Modina, hands clutching her bag. “Your secretary Amilia asked me to represent you, so I’m here to offer my service.”
“Ah, Amilia.” The tone was soft, almost a whisper, clear in the empty cell. “Such a kind girl. My dearest friend. She’d been a comfort for me in the past years. I am sorry to have put her in such distress.”
Unsure if it was a confirmation, Arista remained silent. Modina’s eyes wandered around, but she continued only when she focused again on Arista.
“I’m sorry you made all the way to here, but it isn’t necessary. I did it. I killed my husband.”
“Why?” The question came to Arista’s lips before she could stop them.
Curiously, Modina observed her. “Because I am nuts. Haven’t you heard the stories?”
Arista left the prison without convincing Modina to sign her hiring. And with the conviction she would defend Modina by the accusation: if Arista was something, stubborn would be a good way to describe her. In Modina’s words she’d recognized too much of herself, the way men looked down at her despite having obtain the same results as them, sometimes even better results. And of course, when they couldn’t explain something, they relied in the old, rancid explanation “she’s crazy”.
But not in Arista’s watch, she swore.
“A courier from the Court came to deliver a letter for you,” was Edith’s welcome when, later on, Arista returned to her lair.
“What is it?” Her mind was too full for the subsequently plan for her investigation. She would need to show Modina the prospect of victory to convince her.
“I don’t read personal correspondence, dear girl!”
“Don’t you?” But Arista wasn’t in the mood to argue about Edith’s improper behavior. She snatched the letter from her grasp and marched towards her apartment, closing the door behind her.
“And you haven’t paid this month’s rent!”
Because she hadn’t got any clients. Even if she wouldn’t do it for money, at least she could survive and who knew, maybe finally afford a decent office. But she didn’t have time to dream of it now, she had an investigation to take care off.
Back against the door, she tore the envelope to read the letter inside.
And her entire world shattered.
It didn’t surprise her to see Julian opened the door: the man was ancient and he’d been serving her family for generation. Instead, he was shocked. His eyes darted at the hallway behind her, as fearing something, then bent forwards.
“He didn’t want you here.” A whisper. “He expressly order to send you away.”
“This is my home too.”
Essendon Manor was a two-store villa in the north-west area of Milan, surrounded by a garden that isolated it from the city’s traffic. Her father had specific built it for her mother, who had come from noble family of Bergamo. Arista had grown up there, running in that same garden, climbing tree and peeling her knew during the games with the boys.
It was only a technicality that only her brother inherit it after their father’s death.
Not wanting to put Julian in a difficult position, she added, “Just tell him I’m here, I’ll deal with him.”
Julian was still unconvinced, but in the end his affection for her won. But it hadn’t been necessary, because the moment he turned her brother appeared from the stair, strolling leisurely towards them. Surely he’d spotted her arrival from their father’s office, whose windows faced the main garden and the gate.
Since the last time Arista had seen him, Alric hadn’t changed much: he only dressed more elegantly and he was trying to grow a bear which, in Arista’s opinion, only served the purpose to underline his youth. The look of distaste in his face was the same.
He dismissed Julian with a gesture of his hand, and he was more than happy to scurry away from any siblings discussion it was about to start. Alric’s eyes hadn’t move from Arista.
“What are you doing here?” The tone was aggressive. “If I remember correctly, last time you run away with the promise to never come back, as you slammed the door behind you.”
She hadn’t definitely slammed the door, that was over-dramatic for Alric’s part. But she couldn’t point it out, not if she wanted to regain a little in Alric’s good graces.
“I don’t know where else to go.” Alric raise an eyebrow but didn’t comment: Arista understood that he wouldn’t be satisfied until she spilled the entire ordeal. “The Court of Appeal had found my inscription of the roll of lawyers was illegal and, subsequently, banned me from it. I can’t practice my work anymore. I don’t have money and my landlady throw me out. I don’t… have friends that can host me.”
It wasn’t entirely true, it’s just that most of the time they had barely what it was enough to sustain them. The perks of having cheaper rates.
“It’s just for a while, until I manage to get back on my feet.”
“And how? Since you don’t have a work anymore.” His expression were patronizing. “What did you say last time? That you didn’t need anyone help, less of that our father’s.”
She took a deep breath. She knew it would have been difficult, but Alric was voluntary twisting the knife in her wound and she knew she had to keep bleeding. “Do you want to humiliate me more? Because right now I’m not beyond it.”
Alric observed her from head to toe and for an instant she feared he would kick her out. Instead, he sighed. “Is it your only luggage?” He tilted his head towards the bag she had in her hands.
“No, I have other two boxes… I left them at my old apartment for now.” If Edith hadn’t already sell them.
“Later on, you can ask Julian to recover it for you.” He moved from the doorstep to let her enter. “You can use your old room.”
She did it hesitantly, but the more she stepped inside, the more relief and familiarity fell upon her. “Thank you, Alric. I know we haven’t been in the best term but-”
He stopped her by raising the index finger in front of her face. “My home, my rules, that’s the agreement. I don’t want any more insanity about you being a lawyer and absolutely no attempt to appeal to the Supreme Court of Cassation in order to have your name back on the roll. You can take all the time you need her to find a suitable occupation for a woman. Am I clear?” He didn’t wait for an answer from her part, but swirled on his heels and strolled away. “We dine at seven.”
It was to be expected. Arista tightened painful the grip in her bag, but she didn’t have any sneaky remark against it. For now, she could only rely on the fact she had a roof on her head for the night.
As she’d expected, the manor brought many memories back to her as she walked the hallway, the family photos hanging at the walls. Her father had been so proud of her when she’d gain the law degree, only to oppose her when she’d asked to be part of his law firm. At that point, the separation, although painful, had been inevitable.
Arista’s only regret was not being able to show her father her success before his premature death.
With that grim thought in mind, instead of going directly to her room, she stopped to the bathroom: she needed a moment to wash herself and calm down, if she had to face her brother again at dinner.
The door opened with a creak sound. She absently-minded placed her bag on the floor, just next the entrance.
“What the hell…?”
The voice lured her attention and, when she lifted her head, she found herself face to face with a man. A clotheless man. Startled, Arista screamed and jumped back, immediately slamming the door in the man’s face.
Alric rushed at the sound. “What happened?” He was more annoyed than worried, as if Arista’s arrival was already disrupting his routine.
“A… naked man. There is a naked man in the bathroom…”
“Yes, because I was bathing.” The not-anymore naked man left the room with a towel wrapped all around his body like a vest. He and Alric shared a meaningful look, then he turned to Arista. “Glad to see you haven’t changed.”
Now that she wasn’t distracted anymore by the rest of him, Arista observed his face, recognizing in his dashing featured and his wet, messy hair, her and Alric’s childhood friend. “Mauvin? Oh, I… didn’t expect you here.”
Alric groaned. Mauvin raised an eyebrow. Surely it was more common to see Mauvin at Essendon Manor than Arista, who had been banned for years. And she was the one walking in without knocking. Her stay would be harder than she expected.
“I think I’m going now.”
Mauvin’s amusement was clear. “See you later. I’ll be dressed I promise!”
At the dinner table, the tension was palpable. Alric was looking everywhere but on Arista, who, on the contrary, was trying to avoid Mauvin’s face not to remember their previous encounter. Even Mauvin, who Arista remembered chatty, was having a hard time to find an argument he felt save speaking about, especially considering the abruptly answer he got.
It was becoming ridiculous.
“I thought…” Arista began, unsure how putting her idea on the table. “In the meantime I stay here, I can give you some help with your case…” Her voice was less and less confident as Alric’s expression darkened. “You know, examine the dossier, writing down reports, something like that.”
Alric threw the spoon in his soup. “What did I say about it less than two hours ago?”
“I just want to help. I may not be a lawyer anymore, but I have a degree. I won’t bother you about being in court or anything, I just want to help.”
Before Alric had any chance to reply, Mauvin intervened, “Well, you have complained about not finding a good assistant recently.”
Alric threw him a betrayed look and Mauvin hurried to be suddenly extremely interested in cutting bread.
“Why instead you don’t do something useful, like asking your sister to invite Arista at one of her girl-only meeting?”
Mauvin swallowed a piece of bread. “Sure. She has one scheduled for tomorrow, I think. I’ll let her know.”
Oh, no, no, Arosta thought, but there was little she could do. She looked pleading at her brother. “If I go, then I can help with your work?”
“I’ll think about it,” Alric conceded, at last, after a moment of pondering. It was a victory on her part: she had seen how much papers to check he had in his office.
“There is another thing.” Arista said it casually. “I accepted a case before they banned me from the roll, so I wonder if you can take it in my steady.”
“Which case?”
“The defense of Lady Modina Novronian.”
Mauvin whistled. Alric shook his head. “Forget it.”
“Why? It is a high profile case, one of the kind our father loved. And she needs our help. I promise her I will find something to save her.”
“Well, that will teach you not to make promise you can’t keep.” Alric poured wine in his glass. “There is no way they won’t find her guilty, not when two witnesses found her over her husband’s body with the murder weapon still in her hands. It’s not a high profile case, it’s a certain loss. I won’t involve our father’s firm in it.”
“They won’t treat her fairly because she is a woman that owns a company.”
“Well, maybe that’s why women should do men’s work. No, Arista.” He lifted a hand to stop her. “We have an agreement over this. I don’t plan to argue with you every day now.”
“Good luck with that,” Mauvin whispered, not low enough for Arista.
The fact that Alric didn’t want to deal with Modina’s case didn’t mean Arista couldn’t do a personal investigation over it. That was something they couldn’t ban her from. If she would find something enough to put the prosecutor’s version under review, she might be able to convince Alric to take the defense, or Modina to hire another lawyer.
First thing, she attended Ethereld’s funeral service. It was held in Percepliquis, the village just near to the fabric. Novron was a luminary in his field and an innovator: he’d built the village for his employees so they could have everything at their disposal a few meters from the working place and for free. The descendant of the first worker still lived there and worked in the fabric.
Arista expected more people at the local church and the following procession that brought the coffin in the cemetery just at the end of the village. It was a cloudy day and the street was muddy and full of puddles. However, it should be a deterrent for people to attend their boss’ funeral.
Only a handful of people were present: some authorities, Ethereld’s few remaining relatives and some employees who, from their clothes, weren’t workers but administratives. Arista’s presence stood a little bit too much in the group, so she wasn’t surprised when someone approached her.
“Journalist?”
The fact that the man thought she was there for work was a pleasant surprise. However, Arista was aware of the bad reputation of journalist. “A distant relative of the decease.” It wasn’t even a lie. “I expected… more people. I guess he wasn’t loved?”
“No, it wasn’t…” The man was clearly upset from the question. “Most people are working.”
But Arista had noticed the gaze behind the windows as the procession walked the street and they refused to go outside, even to salute the coffin from their doorstep. She lend her hand.
“I’m Arista.” She introduced herself. “I had the pleasure to meet Lady Modina too, and I know she is well loved.” It was an assumption made by Amilia’s dedication, but giving how the man’s face brightened, not a far-fetched one. “I was just wondering if it was a form of protest against her arrest.”
“Gerard.” The man shook her hand. “Are you sure you’re not a journalist?”
She laughed. “Definitely. I hate them too. But I do wonder if I can do something for Modina.”
Gerard looked around, but Ethereld’s relatives seemed in hurried to leave, with no interest in talking with the village people. So he gestured at Arista to follow him to the local tavern and he started talking only before a glass of wine. The tavern was empty, but he still kept his voice low.
“It’s not like we don’t like Lord Ethereld,” he started. “It’s just that he wasn’t present much, you know? It is Lady Modina that takes care of everything.”
“Well, she was Novron’s daughter after all.”
“Oh, she is!” Gerald beamed with proud. “After Novron’s death, the fabric passed for a brief period under the church’s jurisdiction. They have no idea how this kind of fabric work. Then they recognized Lady Modina as his illegitimate daughter but, by his will, she has every right on his property. Once she was in charge, everything went back as it should have. The fabric and the village flourish, she was even able to expand both the production and the service, hiring more people. We all love her.”
“I guess you don’t think she was her husband’s murder.”
Gerard’s face fell. “I know what people say of her, but… no, she wouldn’t have done that unless she was forced to.”
That was very interesting, because Amilia seemed more convinced Modina just wouldn’t kill anyone, while Gerard talked about a proper motivation.
“Such as?”
“Something or someone was in danger.” Gerard lowered his voice. “Ethereld wanted to convert the production into weaponry. Lady Modina was against that.”
Oh, that didn’t look good, because it meant that Modina had a motif for murder. “But the fabric was hers, so Ethereld couldn’t do anything without her consent.”
“That’s true.” Gerald sip his wine: he was also thinking about it too.
“Who will inherit the fabric if Modina is found guilty?” Arista asked. She needed to find someone else that would benefit from Ethereld’s murder and Modina being accused of it. “Since they haven’t children.”
“The church will regain control of it.” Gerard finished his wine. “That’s why we’re all worried. First about Lady Modina’s destiny and about ours too.”
Since Arista needed to remain on Alric’s good side, in the afternoon she put on her best clothes and called for a carriage to transport her to Drondil Fields, the Pickerings residence which was situated in the countryside for Lenare tea party.
She dreaded the moment of her arrival, when all the women of the high society would see her only for speaking against her back at the end of the day. So she released a relief breath when she noticed that other than Lenare only another girl seated at the table under the pergola.
They both wore casual gown, but made of expensive silk and elegant, golden embroilment. Unlike Arista, that kept her air arranged in a simple low chiffon, they had elaborate hairstyles with braids and ribbons. By the way they sat, they were used to that sort of event. Arista took place in front of her, thinking she hadn’t dread university exams so much.
“Lady Alenda Lanaklin, Arista Essendon,” Lenare introduced them before asking for the tea and sweet to be served.
“So, Lenare told me you’re a lawyer.” Alenda began the conversation casually, after eating a piece of cake. “Surely it is exciting.”
“It has its moments.” Arista wondered why Lenare hadn’t specified about her ban: she’d expected her to gloat about her failure.
“Mauvin told me you’re handling Lady Modina’s case.” Lenare took a minuscule piece of cakes with the golden small fork. Then, to Alenda, she added, “You know her, right? Your family trades with the Novronian Company.”
“Oh, yes!” Alenda swallowed. “The cake was delicious, like usual.” She took another bite. “I’ve never met Modina in person, you know? She was very reserved, or so they say.” She tapped her temple with the finger. “Others that she is a little crazy.”
“Why is that?” Arista asked, too hard. Modina had talked about that kind of accusation before.
“Oh, I don’t know exactly.” Alenda shrugged. “She was a farmer, before the church found that she was Novron’s illegitimate daughter. They dragged her in her rightful place and married her off to Ethereld. Voices said that the first years she didn’t leave her room, didn’t speak a word, barely wash and eat. And,” she lowered her voice, “she made a suicide attempt once or twice.”
“This is strange, because the workers of Percepliquis consider her a worthy director. Said she is in charge, not Ethereld.”
“Oh, I heard that too.” Alenda nodded. “Ethereld was most for public relationship, he made deals, and so on. He was more than happy to have Modina deal with the workers.”
Lenare snorted. “Men had the strange habit to define women crazy when they defy their expectation.” She threw a meaningful look at Arista, who had to admit, had been called crazy in many occasion.
“Was the marriage happy?”
Alenda pondered, looking at her empty plate. “Who knows? Modina is very reserved, and I’ve never seen her during an event. But nor her not Ethereld were talked about liaison or such. And he seemed content that his wife doesn’t care for balls or expensive jewelry or such. But that’s all I know.”
Arista reflected on the new information she was acquired. “Who married her off?”
“The church, of course!” Alenda bent in a conspirator way. “By Novron’s will, any children of his would inherit his company, which means the church was only temporally in charge. Ethereld was the manager they hired for it. When they found Modina, well…” She widened her arms.
“They convinced her to marry Ethereld so they would keep a foot inside the company,” Arista understood.
“The official explanation was that it was improper for such a young woman to stay alone, but yes, that is the right reason. I heard they put it in the prenuptial agreement.”
Arista frowned. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, I haven’t seen it, mind you. But I gathered that Modina gave every right to her company to Ethereld, with the promise he would take care of her. He sometimes joked about the fact that he shouldn’t have signed it if he would have realized that Modina was good in her work.”
“That’s strange.” Arista tipped her chin. “Because the administrator I talked with seems convinced that Ethereld couldn’t take decision about the company without Modina’s authorization.”
Lenare shrugged. “Maybe there was some technicality I don’t know. You should ask directly the man that married them.”
“Arista! What a pleasure to see you!”
Bishop Saldur greeted her with a big hug and two kisses on the cheek. It would be embarrassed by someone else, but Saldur had been a good friend of her father and he’d visited her house frequently when she had been a child there.
“I’m really sorry about what happen to you. With the entire trial about your decision to be a lawyer.” Saldur invited her inside his office. “I was the one convincing your father to let you study. It’s really a shame.” He sat down in front of her. “If there is something I can do, please tell me.”
“Thank you. Actually, I’m here to ask about Lady Modina.”
Saldur’s eyes bulged. Surely he hadn’t expect that when Arista had asked for a private meeting with her.
“I’ve heard you were the one that married her with Lord Ethereld and helped them with the prenuptial agreement.”
“I did.” Suddenly, his tone wasn’t as cordially. “Why are you asking.”
Arista hesitated. It was a private matter so Saldur could refuse her questions. “Alric is taking Lady Modina’s defense.”
“Really?”
“Yes. He is looking to expand the firm more, now that I’m there to give him a hand.” Well, that was her plan, at least; the fact that Arlic was at the moment unaware of it wasn’t something Saldur needed to be informed of. “If you can give me some information about Lady Modina’s marriage, it will be great help to us.”
Saldur nodded gravely.
“Starting by why you decided to marry her off in the first place.”
“You have to understand,” he began, with compassion in his eyes, “when we found Modina, she had just lost her entire family over a bandit attack. She was suffering a severe depression. We can’t let her alone to run a company of that size as his father’s will asked.”
“So the solution was a marriage?”
“Ethereld knew the work and he was reliable, we know he would have treated her fair. And he did.” Saldur crossed her arms. “He provided her of doctor for her depression and the best teacher for her education. And, once she recovered, he let her helping with the company’s administration. Against my advices, mind you.”
“Why?”
“I feared that such a heavy burden would compromised Modina’s poor mental health. And I was right, in the end.”
Arista narrowed her eyes, trying to spot any lies behind Saldur’s sorrowful façade, but she saw nothing. “It is also the reason for the prenuptial agreement? The one that gave Ethereld the rights over her company?”
Saldur was still calm. “Novron’s will was precise, the company was Modina’s. Without the agreement, Ethereld wouldn’t have been able to run it, with all the consequences coming from stagnation. The company is in good shape now, right?”
Thanks to Modina, she wanted to reply, but she wasn’t there to argue about it. Not yet, at least. “It’s part of keeping it in good shape that he planned to convert it in a weapon factory?” This time, Saldur couldn’t restrain his surprise. “Modina was against it.”
“It is… our responsibility to keep alive Novron’s will.”
“So the agreement didn’t contain this possibility?”
“Like I said, the company is Modina’s. We just did what was necessary to let her taking care of it.”
Arista wasn’t so sure about it, but at least now she had her answer.
Saldur took her hands in his own. “If I can give an advice to you and your brother, in your father’s memory… don’t take this case. It’s destined to fail and I dread to see you fail with it.”
With Arista’s joy, Alric let her helping with the ordinary job for real. The cases Alric accepted recently were minor and boring, but Arista was satisfied to put her head again in the job. It was hard to restrain her tongue over some of his brother’s decision, but it paid because Alric didn’t force her anymore to attend Lenare’s girl meeting and he even asked her to accompany him in court during one of the sessions.
Being there again was refreshing, despite people dismissing her as the simple assistant.
Arista was about to ask Alric if she could enter in the courtroom with him, when he halted.
“Oh, no.”
An elegant man with sandy hair strolled in his direction. Alric greeted him between his teeth. “Prosecutor.”
Arista hadn’t never had Rudolf Calder as an opponent in court, but voices anticipated him: he was malicious, arrogant and overall unpleasant. The smug grin he had didn’t tempered his reputation.
“Mister Essendon!” Rudolf patted Alric’s shoulders. “Looks like we’ll face each other in court very soon. It’s good to see you back. After the last two or three beating I gave you, I feared you would refuse to show your face again.”
Alric was rigid. “I wasn’t aware of it.”
“How come?” Rudolf’s face fell for a second, but then he grinned. “Of course Lady Modina’s case is mine. Who else can take it? I’m more surprise you decided to defend her, but again, you have a soft spot for women in distress.”
“Lady Modina’s case…” Alric’s eyes shifted imperceptibly over Arista, at his side.
Arista cringed. When the information leaked out? She’d only talked with Saldur, and he had no reason to speak about it. Was it Alenda? But Alenda thought she was the one taking care of it… In any case, she was doomed. She’d planned to convince his brother, but before the news of her investigation reached him.
“Listen, since we’re friends and I would hate to destroy you in court again, let me give you an advice,” Rudolf said, his hand still on Alric’s shoulder. “Plea the mental infirmity. Modina basically confessed. We can reach an agreement where I won’t ask for the death penalty, only life imprisonment in an institute.”
“But Modina is innocent!” Arista blurred out. “She’s not crazy!”
Rudolf passed his gaze on Arista, frowning. “Oh, no, surely she isn’t. But she’s her only saving grace. Otherwise I will prove her guilty and that wouldn’t be unpleasant.”
“She has no reason to kill her husband, and we’ll prove it.”
Rudolf laughed. “Oh, I assure you, she has one.”
“Ethereld’s decision about her company?” Arista narrowed her eyes. “He couldn’t do anything without her. She has no reason to fear him.”
“Oh, no.” Rudolf smiled patronize. “The motif is a lot more… murky. The jury will love it.” He turned back to Alric. “She wants to plead guilty. It’s for her best interest. So don’t be stubborn, or you’ll end your career for real this time.”
“We’ll see about it,” Alric replied. “I don’t have the habit for other people to boss me around, telling how I need to do my work. Let me deal with my clients.”
Rudolf shrugged. “I warn you.”
Alric waited for them to reach home before exploding. “One thing. One thing I asked you, Arista. Since when you took the job behind my back and under my name? I don’t know what’s restraining me by kicking you out.”
“You didn’t correct Rudolf.”
“Of course not!” He paced in front of the window. “What should I have said to him? Sorry, my sister is a pathological liar that doesn’t know her place? That I can’t control even what my family members do? That would have surely improved my reputation.”
“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” Arista intertwined her fingers. “I didn’t mean to set you up. I just wanted to help Modina. I thought that if I can find some evidences that the police oversaw, she could have a chance. I… I only used your name as an excuse.”
Alric glared at her. “Oh, well, thanks. You don’t even plan to have me as a lawyer.”
“You were the one that refused in the first place!” She leaped up.
“And for a good reason! This is an impossible case. If I lost…” His voice trailed down. “We need to find a way to entangled us out of this mess with minimum risk.”
Mauvin chose that moment to perk from the door. “Trouble in paradise?” When both Alric and Arista turned to glare at him, he blabbered, “I’ll be… just… downstairs… if you need me.” And disappeared.
But his presence had tampered Alric’s fury. He slopped on the armchair that had been their father’s and was now too big for him.
“What Rudolf meant when he talked about your lost cases?” And since Alric diverted his gaze, she pressed, “Oh, you haven’t-”
“We’re not bankrupt, if that’s what you think,” he anticipated her. His tone lowered. “But I took some risks, and they didn’t go as expected. I may have some difficulties recently.”
That explained why they had worked with an amount of low profile cases. They were efficiently to regain fast some expenses. “Oh, Alric, why didn’t you tell me?”
“Would you have cared?”
“Of course. I-” But she stopped. She knew he wouldn’t have accept her help, but at the same time she had decided to leave in the past. And to lie about her investigation. “Lister. I will make a declaration, taking all the blame of it. Better! I’ll convince Modina to hire another lawyer and have her finding an excuse to fire you.”
Alric settled better on the chair and smirked. “Oh, so now you don’t think we can win Modina’s case?”
Arista pressed her lips together. “I don’t want to drag you down. The family’s business…”
“It’s too late for it. We’re in together now.” Alric grabbed one of his notebook. “Show me what you got.”
They spreaded Arista’s documentation all over the desk. There was a sort of familiarity in it, the way Arista remembered how his father had done the same thing over and over, sometimes allowing her to help arranging some files in his steady.
Alric’d avoided that kind of work as long as possible, but he wasn’t anymore the spoiled boy she remembered. He was now bent on the papers, his forehead frowning, as he tried to give an order to Arista’s notes. She had to admit, usually she had a better writing style.
Then, he lifted his head, perplex. “That’s it?”
“I investigate for few days.” She pouted, defensive. It wasn’t like she had had much time, and Alric had been partial responsable of it.
“But there is nothing here.” Alric gestured at the paper. “Where is the police record? You talked about two eye-witnesses, were are their declaration? And the autopsy report?”
Oh, right. Arista watched her nails. “I couldn’t obtain them.”
“Ah, right, your ban.” Alric opened a drawner to pull out his personal papers and the firm sigil. “I’ll sign up a request.”
“No.” Arista pressed her lips together. “We can’t because Modina hasn’t officialy nominate me her lawyer. Or you, for that matter.”
Alric stopped with his arm mid-air, the papers clutching in his hand. Very calmy, he placed them in the only free space of the desk. “Are you telling me you dragged me in this mess without even having the authorization for it?”
“I would have got it! I just needed some confirmation to convince Modina. She was convinced she would be condamnen either way. I had to find some proof that I can save her.”
“No much luck.” Alric looked at the documentation, depressed. “Even if you didn’t find a motive for Modina to kill her husband, I fear they only need to declare her crazy to win the trial.”
“She’s not crazy!” Arista raised her voice. “I saw her. I spoke to her. She is smarter than most.”
“Well, then she did kill her husband and now she’s playing insane to avoid the death penalty.” Alric snorted. “That will be smart.”
“Or maybe she’s just a successful business woman in a male-dominate society and she’s aware that is something many don’t forget or forgive!”
It was the first time she said it out loud, but the thought was nagging her for a while, the idea that it was a conspiracy to get rid of Modina because she was too good and she was embarassing everyone else.
“Now you’re talking about yourself.”
“You’re both wrong.”
The two siblings turned their head in uninson. Now that Mauvin understood they wouldn’t kill each other, he felt enough safe to stay in the same room as them as they worked, slouched on the sofa while he ruminated nuts from a bowl, like they were the same entertaiment one could see at circus or at zoos.
“Why are you even here?” Arista asked. “You’re not even a lawyer.”
Mauvin shrugged.
Arista turned to her brother. “Why is always here? He do have a nice house, bigger than ours.”
“Oh, you know…” Alric’s head dig back in the papers. “Most of his students are from the city, it’s easier for him to reach them if he lives here.”
Arista snorted. “I hope he pays rent at least.”
“Oh, believe me, I do.” Mauvin beamed in amusement, while Alric’s ears reddened, which gave Arista the idea it was an inside joke between him and Alric she was excluded from. Mauvin throw a nut in the air and let it fall in his mouth. Then, chewing, he asked, “Do you want to hear my theory or not?”
“Let’s hear it.” Arista sighed. “Why do you think Modina doesn’t want a defense?”
Mauvin smirked. “Love.”
Arista blinked. He looked at Alric, but he had the same unconvinced look as hers. Mauvin, instead, seemed so self-assured of himself.
“Think about it.” He agitated his finger in the air. “Rudolf said Modina has a ‘murky motivation’. You don’t use that work instead you’re referring at an illicit relationship. Considering we’re talking about uxoricide, guessing there is a lover involved is not that strange.”
“When do you learn the work ‘uxoricide’?” Alric asked, bewildered.
“Hey, I listen when you talk about your work.”
Arista pondered the hypotesis. Alenda’d said that there were no voices about Modina’s private life. But she was very reserved and she didn’t attent events, so it was entirely possible she’d been able to conceal it, expecially if it was a recent affair.
“Do you really think that Modina is risking her life or, in the best case, eternal seclusion as a mentally ill only to avoid embarassment for her lover?” Arista was talking more to herself. “It seems a little bit too much for me.”
“I’ll do it if revealing the person destroy their life too.” Mauvin was looking at Arlic, who sustained his gaze unconvinced.
“Okay, but what scandal can be to arrive to such an extreme measure?” Arista groaned. “And there’s another thing: why this mysterious lover is ready to let Modina die to save himself?” Dear God, whoever he is, he didn’t deserve her!
“I don’t think it’s the case.” Mauvin was still smiling.
“What do you mean? That the lover is trying to help Modina in secret?”
“She did. She asked you.”
Arista took some times to understand what Mauvin was saying. Then she opened her mouth but for a second she was unable to speak. Alric was the first one to recover. “You think the secretary is her lover?”
“Yes.”
Arista remembered her meeting with Amilia, her tears, her worries, her unshakable faith in Modina. Arista had considered it a normal reaction from a loyal emplyoyer, but thinking back it wasn’t such a different reaction from the one she’d witnessed about brides losing her grooms.
“How Rudolf found out?” Alric wondered.
“No matter,” Arista replied. “If it’s like this, the first thing we need is to convince Modina we can’t avoid the scandal. I’m sure she may be persuaded to be defence only if she is assured Amilia won’t be involved.”
“We can’t guarantee that.”
“We must try!”
Alric passed his gaze to her, then to Mauvin, who offered a little smile, then brushed his fingers over his eyes. “We still have too little information about all this. And we can’t get more unless Modina authorizes us. It’s a dog chasing his tail.”
“We may.” When Alric frowned at her, she continued, “Rudolf was convinced you have the case, only because I said so. We can use it at our advantage. If you sign me an authorization, I can see Modina and confirm everything with her. The guards won’t suspect of a warrant with out official seal.”
Alric considered it for a second, then nodded. “In the meantime, I can go around and ask my aqquiantances if they can provide me some official information. We need the wintnesses declaration.” He took the feather and scribbled down on his paper. “If Modina accept, take her testimony too. We need her version of the story.”
“What about me?” Mauvin asked. “What can I do?”
Alric stopped the seal mid-air. Mauvin continued, “I’m in it too now. I don’t want you bankroup, who will host me otherwise?” He snapped his finger. “I have it. I’ll go talk with this secretary.”
Arista took her brother’s signed paper. “And why she should talk with you? I don’t want to talk with you and you live here.”
“And yet you’re talking with me right now.” Mauvin winked. “Don’t worry, she’ll talk. I have something in common with her.”
As predicted, the guard didn’t complain too much at Arista’s entrance, once she could show her brother’s signature. No one bother to check about their autorization. The cell hadn’t chanced since the last time Arista was there, nor was Modina.
Her way of sitting in that grim place was always delicate, her presence ethreal. Her suffering barely brushed her. Arista understood why the people of Percepliquis were ready to follow her lead. However, Arista wondered how much of it was a pretense.
At Arista’s entrance, Modina tilted her head and a slight smile appeared. “I know you’ll be back.”
It was a surprising sentence, considering that they’d separated with Modina still convinced of their destiny, not matter how Arista had argued about the possibilities during a possible trial. But it was probably Arista’s insistance that had convinced Modina. Arista had always been stubborn.
She sat down next to Modina so they could keep their voices low. “I know about you and Amilia.” Arista took her hand. “I know you want to protect her.”
Modina’s expression didn’t change, but Arista had the impression she was satified.
“You’re good. Just as I thought.”
Arista blinked. “You had… heard about me? Before?”
“I didn’t ask Amilia to call you, if that’s what you think.” Modina looked at something invisible in front of you. “But I heard about you. Of course I did. The first woman to be register to the lawyer roll. When we enter in men’s territory, we have to be twice as good as they are, haven’t we?”
Arista felt a sting of guilt, because that discovery wasn’t her, and because she wasn’t a lawyer anymore. But she was also proud that a woman like Modina appreciated her.
“They kick me out from the roll.”
Modina tilted her head. “And you’re still here.”
“I made you a promise.” Arista tightened her grip on Modina’s hands. “My brother- he’s a lawyer too. I convinced him to help. We can do it. We can save you.”
Modina didn’t say a word, just looked at Arista with that penetrating gaze.
“I want to save you.”
“Thank you.” She turned her head again. “But things are somehow out of our control. I already lost my family. Amilia is the only thing I have left. And since what I can do is to protect Amilia from the storm that is arriving, I’ll do.”
“But what about the others?” Arista replied. “The company’s workers. They love you. What will happen to them if you give up? They’re your responsability too.”
For the first time since she’d met her, Modina seemed shocked by her. “The company…”
For the first time, she showed her age, and Arista realized she was even younger than her. She couldn’t face that alone.
“Promise me.” Arista placed both hands on Modina’s face, forced her to look straight in the eyes. “If I find a way to let Amilia out of it, you’ll take my brother as a lawyer. And then we’ll save you.”
Modina’s lips trembled. “But I did it. I killed him.”
Arista paled. Since the start, she hadn’t wandered by her idea that Modina had been framed somehow, that someone else had killed Ethereld and pinned the crime on her because she was a convenient scapegoat. She’d trusted Amilia’s pleas. Then Gerard’s words came back to her mind, the idea that, under some circumstances, Modina could have killed.
“Why?”
“Because he tried to kill me first.”
Surprisiling, Alric didn’t seem particulary upsed by the new information she’d brought him. As he promised, he’d collected as much documentation he could from the police and the court, and by his analysis he’d come to the conclusion that their only possible line during the trial should be self-defense.
“It won’t work unless we manage to find a reasonable motif for Ethelred,” she said. It was one of the reason she’d doubted of that version, but now she had Modina’s confirmation.
“Clearly he wanted her out of his way to grasp the power over the company.” Alric was impiling the papers over the desk.
“But killing her wouldn’t have granted that.” Alric had procured even a copy of their marriage agreement, so Arista grabbed it and shoved it in his face. “The company will return in the church’s responsability if Modina dies.”
“But it was the general manager nominated by the church first. Maybe he hoped in a similar role.” Alric moved the paper away. “It made sense, since Saldur was there. And Saldur was the first responsable of everything.”
Arista, who was examining the marriage agreement with a frown as it personally offended her, froze. “What do you mean?”
“He is one of the eye-witnesses, the one that discovered Ethereld’s body and Modina.” Alric passed her an enveloped that contained the copy of the declaration. “Ethereld had invited him for dinner the night of the murder. It seems they were old friends. It shouldn’t come to a surprise, you were the one telling me how Saldur favored the marriage between Ethereld and Modina.”
“Yes, but…” Arista red the first lines, where Maurice Saldur’s name was clearly written as the confirm identity of the witness. “Why he didn’t tell me when I talked with him? Sure, it was before our… collaboration, but he didn’t know that.”
Alric snorted. “Well, it’s unconventional to speak to witness for attorney. Perharps he didn’t want to embarass you.”
“That may be.” Saldur had been helpful, but he’d also tried to convice her, or better Alric, to give up the case. If he was convinced of what he’d seen that night, he could have tried to prevent their involvement in a mess. And maybe he didn’t want to embarass her if she didn’t know the case details.
Arista read fast his declaration. What he said matched well enough with Modina’s tale: he and the other witness were invited for dinner, something Modina wasn’t expected to attend. Amilia wasn’t in the palace, for once, as Ethereld had assigned her a work for the next morning. The only other attendants were Ethereld’s secretary Tibil, a waiter and the cook, but all three were dismissed after the meal.
The three men were chatting and smoking and dirnking in the private studiolo, when Ethereld decided to check on his wife. It was the moment he’d tried to kill her with a knive. Modina was awake enough to deflect the attack. The collusion broke the mirror and it was a shard of it that Modina grabbed. He didn’t expect her to react or to be so strong.
In the meantime, the two guests had heard the rumors and, worried, rushed to the room in time to see Modina stabbing her husband. It was the only part the tale diverged, because Modina was sure the two men arrived later, when Ethereld was already dead and she was over him, to be assured he wouldn’t have het up to attack her again.
Modina hadn’t release the shard, not until the police arrived and she’d trust herself with them. There was also a brief comment from Saldur about the fact that he was shocked because he’d know boht Modina and Ethereld for years and he would never thought of such an outcome.
Arista put down the paper and took one of the crime scene photograph: since it was such a high-profile case, the police called for it. The photo didn’t reveal much more than the tales: the broken mirror, the knife on the ground, Ethereld’s body.
“The police record is very detailed,” she commented, as he confronted it with the photos.
“Sir Breckton was in charge of the investigation, and he’s the best out there.” Alric took another envelope. “He’s also incorruptible, so we can be assured all he wrote down is true.”
But the police couldn’t confirm the dynamic except for the present of a fight: the procurator could easily claim Modina had been the first one to attack and Ethereld had tried to stop her without hurting her.
Arista took the envelope Alric gave her. “You also got the autopsy report?”
“I know the pathologist.”
“You know the pathologist female assistance, you mean.” Mauvin entered in the office without knoking: he still wore his riding clothes and he smelled of rain, mud and horse. He uncerimouniously threw himself on the free armchair next to Arista, still smiling.
Alric ignored the remark and Arista’s disappoving look. “Where are you been?”
Mauvin didn’t faltered. “Investigating, of course!”
Arista threw him an unimpressed glare. “So, what did you find?”
“Well, like I said, I went speaking to Amilia. Nice girl. A little bit too shy for me. However,” he added immediately at Arista rising eyebrow, “she confirmed her love affair with Modina. She told me this incredible cute story about being hired to take care of Modina when she barely talked. Despite being only a worker because Amilia’d been the only one able to get reaction out of her. She remained at her service wven when Modina got better and took control of her company, and you can image how it went from it.”
“We already know that.” Modina had been reserved, but she talked about Amilia with affection, about the fact that she had been trusted her when everyone else had considered her mental ill and a lost cause.
Mauvin smiled. “And do you know that Ethereld fired Amilia few days before the murder?”
Both siblings widened their eyes, and bent near when Mauvin took off a paper from his pocket. It was the official document, a paper signed by Ethereld and with the Novronian company seal, announcing Amilia that her service wouldn’t be required starting next month. The management of employees was Ethereld’s duty.
“Amilia received this only two days ago, but the signature data was antecedent,” Mauvin pointed out. “She didn’t expect that and she was devastated.”
“Probably it was prepared and ready to be send and Rudolf found it during his investigation.” Alric took the letter and examined it. “It is the motif he talked about. Ethereld fired Modina’s lover and she killed him for it.”
“Modina didn’t know about it, or she would have told me.” Saying those words, she realized how little they valued. They meant for her, but they had a jury to convince.
She took the second testimony, the one she hadn’t read yet. They could be mistaken about what they’d seen and besides, why Ethereld and Modina would have discussed about Amilia when he had guests? “Wait a moment…” He read the name of the witness one. Two. Three times. It didn’t change. “Luis Guy Seret is the second witness?”
“Do you know him?” Alric asked.
“If I know him?” Arista leaped up. “That cur is the one that denounced me and had me banned from the roll. I read his denouce: women are too fragile, too emotional and it would be a poor expression seeing them arguing and yelling in a court when their body weren’t made for it. That ibecile, mysognist, old fashion…” She threw her hands in the air, pacing the room as a lion in a cage.
Alric and Mauvin shared a look but they remained in silent, waiting for the storm to pass.
Arista charged her brother. “He’s just a poor, pathetic little man that hated women and the idea they are better than him. He probably came with his little dick at the idea of condaming this wonderful, competent and successful business woman that threated his fragile masculinity.”
“God, Arista, the image!” Alric cried. Mauvin was trying – and failing – not to laugh.
“That’s it!” She crushed the paper in her hand. “We’ll advocate during the trial that he hates women and he will say anithing to justify his vision of the world. The jury shouldn’t believe any word from his mouth because of it. Modina did defend herself and he takes his chance to punish her.”
“That may be, but it won’t be our defense.”
Arista frowned. “Why not?”
“Because, dear sister, most people think like Luis Guy. Why do you think he threw you out. Because most people think women don’t belong in court. Or as company owner.” Alric shook his head. “No, we should appeal them from a different angle. Ethereld was her husband. Her protector. Instead, he fired the most important person to her and then tried to kill her. Modina did what she needed to survive despite the betrayal of a man who should have protect her. This will be our defence.”
“But…”
“No but. I’m the lawyer here.”
Arista sat down on the chair. It was a mistake, she knew it. The world was full of Luis Guy, maybe, but there were also people like Arcadious, who had believed in her and taught her. And people like Amilia or Modina, who needed to be seen.
Reclutanty, she said, “We will have no defense if we can’t avoid Rudolf to use Amilia and Modina’s relationship in court. And what Mauvin discovered isn’t helping.”
Mauvin pouted. “You have so little faith in me?”
“Well, you were the one bringing us the proof that Modina could have been irritated with her husband.”
“And I also bring you the hypotesis it could be fake.” Mauvin smiled at their bewilderment. “That’s why I’m late. I stopped by in my way back here to ask for an expert examination.”
Alric raised an eyebrow. “Myron?”
“Yep.”
“Myron Lanaklin? The famous translator?” Arista inquired.
“The very one. He’s the brother of a friend of mine. The maximun expert of miniature. A nice guy. Funny, too. I should-”
“And?” Alric pressed.
Mauvin took off another paper. “With Amilia, we do wonder if someone could have fabricated a proof to frame Modina. Amilia is still convinced she didn’t kill her husband. So I asked her for another paper signed by Ethereld for a confrontation.”
Alric narrowed his eyes. “The two signature seem alike to me.”
“Too much alike, in Myron’s opinion.” Mauvin patted the letter ‘l’ on the fire letter. “See this? It’s a little bit thinnier and longer than the first one, like someone was trying to force himself during a copy. It’s very common with left-handed, and Ethereld was not.”
“It’s not much.”
“The writing is also different.” Arista pointed at the two papers. “The signatures are Ethereld’s but not the test.”
“That’s another point.” Mauvin nodded at her appreciative. “Usually, this kind of documents are written by assistant or segretary and then only signed. This one,” he gestured at the other document, “was written for sure by Tibil, Ethereld’s segretary. Someone else wrote this, and it was not Ethereld.”
“It’s something.” Alric rubbed his beard. “We can ask this Tibil if he remembers writing or being order to write these letter, and also Breckton’s permission to a search in the palace. If we find who wrote the fire letter, we may discover when it was written and then bring our conclusion to Rudolf.”
“Do you think he’ll back off so easily?” Arista asked. “He’s stubborn.”
“Yeah, but he’s more scared to be mock in public. He won’t like the idea to bring a fake proof in court and being unmasked in front of everyone.” Alric collected Mauvin’s proofs and put them in a separated envelope. “But first thing first, tomorrow we’ll speak with Modina. Without her authorization, we can’t investigate. Breckton isn’t like everyone else, he’ll check if we have all the correct papers.”
Arista nodded, but with the nagging feeling she’d missed something fundamental.
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