“Also your humor,” Julien added, laughing. “I have been to two moot courts before that one, this is my third year at school, and I never laughed at one of them. Everybody said the same thing, after. You were funny! You took on that CEO, who was such a pompous ass.”
“I was just jealous.” Bennie liked attention, but this was ridiculous. “So tell me about yourself. I’m surprised you don’t look so much like your father or uncle here. You must get your great looks from your mother’s side.”
“Perhaps,” Julien said with a modest smile. “My mother was very lovely, in pictures. Unfortunately, I don’t remember her. She died of cancer when I was three. Robert is my stepfather.”
“Oh, I see,” Bennie said, suddenly uncomfortable, without knowing why. “So Robert raised you.”
“Well, yes, as best he could, with a young baby and a company to grow. I think of him as my father. He sent me to boarding school here, to Milton, then to Harvard and Harvard Law.”
“What a wonderful education.” Bennie put it together. “And that’s why you don’t have a French accent.”
“Mais oui, but I do,” Julien said, lapsing uncannily into a Gallic inflection. “It works so well with the girls at school.” Next to him, Georges laughed in his wheelchair, and Bennie smiled.
“Congratulations on your upcoming graduation, by the way. A joint-degree program in law and business, very impressive.”
“Yes, I can run the world now!” Julien laughed. “You know, I was so happy when you agreed to represent my father. I knew you hadn’t practiced much in the area of class actions, but I knew you’d be a wonderful lawyer for him. Did he mention to you that I asked for you?”
“He did, and thank you for that.”
“My father really liked you,” Julien said, his enthusiasm waning as he gave way to reality. “He called me after he met you, and yesterday, after court, he called and was so excited, he couldn’t stop speaking in French. He said how right I was. He said you fought like a tiger for him, and for that I thank you.” Julien actually bowed his curly head slightly, his expression darkening. His eyes creased with pain premature on such a boyish face, and he swallowed visibly. His neck was long and thin, but looked even longer in the black crew-neck sweater, with his Adam’s apple traveling up and down. “You made my father very happy. He always sided with the underdog, and it sounds like yesterday, because of you, the underdogs won.”
Bennie felt a twinge. “I am so sorry about what happened, and about his death. It’s a terrible loss for you, and for Georges. For all of us.”
“Thank you.” Julien’s voice was soft. “I appreciate your coming by today.”
“I wouldn’t not,” Bennie said, meaning it. “I thought the world of your father, and it’s been wonderful to meet Georges, and now you. I’m so sorry it had to be in these circumstances.”
“Me, too.” Julien glanced with concern at Georges, sitting with his head bowed in his wheelchair. He shifted over from the desk and put a hand on Georges’s shoulder, then back to Bennie. “You’re probably wondering what to do about the lawsuit now. The complaint against the trade association.”
“Actually, I am,” Bennie said, surprised. She had forgotten about it in Julien’s adoration. Okay, she hadn’t completely forgotten, but she really hated bringing it up, and now Julien had saved her the trouble. Still. “I hate to discuss business at a time like this, and if you wish we can talk about it later.”
“No, now is fine.” Julien straightened beside Georges’s wheelchair. “I don’t know if you know this, but I will be assuming control of the company now. I’ve decided to make this my first executive decision today, even before my graduation.” His smile returned. “I want you to continue to represent St. Amien & Fils against the trade association. It’s what my father wanted, and it’s what I want as well.”
Jeez. “My, thank you, “ Bennie said, her feelings bollixed up. It was too sad and too happy all at once. She didn’t know what to do, what to feel, but Julien did. He reached for her with open arms.
“Welcome to the family, Bennie!” Tears brimmed in his eyes and he enveloped her in a warm hug. They held the embrace for a moment, sharing their loss, and when she stepped away Bennie had to wipe her eyes too.
“It’s all right, Bennie,” Georges broke in, hoarsely, from his wheelchair. He reached up for Bennie’s hand and gave it a soft little shake. “It is what Robert wanted, and he would be happy to see his son make such a right decision.”
“Thank you, thank you both.” Bennie struggled to recover her composure. She couldn’t think about her business yet. She felt too swept up by their affection. If it was Alice who killed Robert, or even Linette, she couldn’t accept their generosity. She didn’t deserve it. “I don’t know if I—”
Julien jumped in. “Of course you can, and you must. I read the complaint, my dad FedExed it to me at school. You did a great job. He thought so, and so do I.”
“But can you just make this decision, like that?”
“Why not?” Julien smiled shakily at her. “We’re not publicly traded, there’s no board of directors.”
“Don’t you have to consult anybody?”
“Perhaps I should.” Julien leaned over and tapped Georges’s shoulder. “Uncle, can I make this decision by myself?”
“Trot on, Julien!” Georges barked, and they both laughed heartily.
Bennie wiped her eyes. She didn’t even know how she’d get Robert’s money back. “Maybe you should think about it. Get over to the plant, talk to whoever you have to talk to.”
“Whatever for? It isn’t like that. I’ve worked for my father every summer since I’ve lived with him, and every holiday. I know how he does things, and he runs the show. Period.” Julien cleared his throat, with a genuinely authoritative air. “Bennie, we’ll stay in touch during the next month, until I graduate. I have only a few papers to hand in and then I’m finished. You fight the good fight, just like before. Call me when you would have called my dad, and don’t forget, you promised to sign my reprints.”
Bennie was shaking her head and even she didn’t know why.
“Now, before we forget, do we owe you any money? I know it takes a war chest to fund litigation that large, and I don’t expect Rosato & Associates to have to float St. Amien & Fils. Do you need money?”
“No,” she blurted out. She knew it made no sense, but she wouldn’t take a penny.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, thanks. I’ll let you know when I do. We give a quarterly accounting.” Bennie hoped he didn’t hear her gulp. She picked up her bag to leave. “I’ll send you a copy of the file so far, and maybe someday you can come around the office and meet my associates. One of them has pink hair.”
“I used to have blue, did my dad tell you?”
“No. Did it match your eyes?”
“Hardly.” Julien laughed, giving Bennie another brief hug, and this one left her with a thickness in her throat.
“Julien, I think you might just change the world as a CEO. You’re direct, honest, smart, and funny. Funny is allowed when you’re not publicly traded.”
Julien laughed. “Here, let me walk you out.”
Bennie turned, then leaned down and gave Georges a quick kiss on his stiff, smoky beard. “Thank you so much, Georges, and please know my thoughts are with you.”
“Thank you.” Georges reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze. “You are too lovely a woman to be a lawyer.”
“That’s what I think,” Bennie said, and bade him a last good-bye. Julien led the way, escorting her down the hallway with the same gentlemanly manners Robert would have had, walking her past the crowd in the living room and out the entrance to the elevator, where he pushed the button. Bennie turned. “Shouldn’t I say good-bye to Micheline?”
“Oh, yes, good call.” Julien’s gaze found Micheline in the crowd, and Bennie caught her smile as Julien motioned to her. She excused herself from her guests and came over, wineglass in hand. Julien seemed to st
raighten as she approached and smiled at her. “Micheline, I was just walking Bennie out, and she wanted to say good-bye.”
“How thoughtful of you, Julien,” she said, almost purring, and went on tiptoe to give him a quick peck on the cheek. Bennie was struck by her attention to Julien, which was inappropriate for a family member, if not Jerry Springer material. She touched his cheek. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better. I hated to see you looking so sad.”
“Thank you for having me,” Bennie interrupted, and Micheline turned.
“You’re very welcome.” Micheline stiffened and extended a manicured hand, shaking Bennie’s lightly.
“I’ll take Bennie down to the lobby,” Julien offered.
“Don’t be too long,” Micheline said, wagging a finger at him. “I have some people I’d like for you to meet.”
“Sure, Micheline.” The elevator came and they went inside, and as soon as the doors slid closed, Julien grew serious. “There is something I wanted you to know, privately.”
“Sure.” Bennie looked over. “What?”
“I meant what I said about your continuing our class action, and I will ensure that, even when I’m not CEO anymore.”
“Anymore?” Bennie didn’t get it. “You didn’t even start the job yet. The lawsuit won’t take that long.”
“Confidentially, I’ll only be running the business for more than a few weeks, just to smooth the transition.” The elevator jostled slightly as it arrived on the lobby floor, but Julien hit the black button to keep the doors closed. “I didn’t want you to think I’m going to be a CEO of a lens-manufacturing company for the rest of my life. I would never do that.”
“No?” Bennie was flabbergasted.
“It’s what my father wanted for me, but never what I wanted. I didn’t want to go to B school either, he made me. I want to do what you do, I always have. Start my own law firm, prosecute police and official misconduct. I want to fight the good fight, like you do.”
The child has no clue. “Julien, I’m flattered, but really, you have to think about this. I don’t even want to do what I do. Look, I’m a class-action lawyer. Don’t make any major decisions, especially now.”
“I’ve been thinking about this decision for a long time. I know what I’m doing.”
“Giving up a family business? It’s been in St. Amien hands since your great-great-grandfather, right?”
“Since Robert’s great-grandfather, not mine,” Julien corrected matter-of-factly. “St. Amien & Fils will survive just fine without me anyway. There are vice presidents at the plant, like you said. An operations VP, a financial VP. One of them can run it, with oversight from the headquarters in France.”
Bennie couldn’t help feeling disappointed for Robert. “Did you discuss this with your father?”
“More than once. He disagreed with me, of course. He had his plan. I have mine, and now, I choose,” he said defiantly, and Bennie could hear traces of resentment.
“You mean because he . . . died, you’re going to do what you want?”
“Exactly.” Julien looked at her, his eyes full of pain. “It does have to do with his death. Because I don’t know if I would have had the guts to do this, really do this, if he had died a normal death and stepped aside for me. But that he died now, the way he died, it taught me something. It taught me that your life can be taken from you, just like that.” Julien snapped his fingers, with a bitter smile. “So you’d better live life the way you want to. No matter what you’ve been taught to do, or whatever promises you made. No matter what you told your father. It’s your life.”
“Julien, listen, I have an idea.” The elevator began to beep, but they both ignored it. “Next week, come over to my office.” If I have an office. “I’ll show you what it’s like, what we really do.”
“I’d like that. I’d love that!”
“Have you ever worked in a down-and-dirty, thrilled-to-break-even law firm?”
Beep beep beep. “No.”
“Have you ever worked in a law firm at all?”
Beep. Beep. “I wanted to, but my father said I was needed at the company.”
“The defense rests.” Bennie took Julien’s hand off the button. The elevator finally stopped beeping and the doors slid open. “We’ll talk about this later, maybe next week. You’ll come to the office, you’ll see us in action. Maybe the week after that, and I’ll take you around to meet my cronies.” Bennie got out of the elevator cab, with Julien right behind her. “They’re true believers, who make very little money, do their own Xeroxing, and take themselves out to lunch in the park, with a veggie sandwich in a recyclable bag. It really isn’t glamorous. It’s hard, exhausting work, and long, long hours.”
“Like a joint-degree program? I know how to work hard.”
“Not like a joint-degree program, because that is school and this is real life. There’s very little reward in it, Julien. Not even the potential of a reward. Sometimes your firm even goes bust and you lose your house.” But Bennie didn’t want to go there. “Just do me one favor. Don’t send in your pink slip before you even get the dress, okay?”
“It won’t work, Bennie. I’m out of there as soon as I graduate. I want to make my own way in this world. Be free, and do what my heart says.”
Bennie wondered which Hallmark card that came from. They were in the lobby of the building, tricked out in a traditional Olde Philadelphia motif. A wafer-thin Kirman with a worn tasseled trim, a few dark wing chairs, and mahogany end tables bearing glowing lamps with oriental jelly jars. Well-dressed people were entering the lobby, and Bennie didn’t want them or guards at the security dais to hear this conversation. And Julien, in his youth and emotion, didn’t realize how loud his voice had gotten.
“Take a minute and come outside with me, okay?”
“Sure.” Julien shoved his hands in the pockets of his Abercrombie jeans, and he and Bennie walked past the people, the desk, and onto the sunny sidewalk, which faced Rittenhouse Square. Traffic around the square was increasing; it was just before five o’clock rush.
Bennie glanced into Rittenhouse Square, verdant and lovely, a working city park encircled by a slightly pebbled pavement and people walking city dogs. But she wasn’t sight-seeing today. Her gaze roamed the park until she found a very tall Sixers fan on one of the green benches to the left, his long legs crossed as he read a newspaper. Poor David. He’d have the sports page memorized by now. Bennie turned to Julien and tried to soften her tone. “Julien, let me ask you one question. Why did you tell me this, about your plans?”
“I didn’t want you to think I was some type of corporate shill. I respect you. What you do, who you are.”
“And I appreciate that.” Bennie had sensed as much. He wanted her approval. “And I respect you too. What you do, and who you are. So could you do me just this one favor, based on our mutual admiration society?”
“Yes.”
“Wait a year to make this decision. Accept my invitation about coming to the office and seeing my friends. If you still feel the same way in a year, and you decide to chuck it all and save the world, I’ll think it will be the smartest thing you ever did.”
“I don’t know, Bennie.” Julien pursed his lips. “A year?”
“I’ll settle for nine months.”
“How about three?”
Suddenly Bennie’s cell phone rang in her purse, and she flipped open the leather flap and reached inside. She checked the bench to see if it was David calling, but he had lowered the paper and was watching her with interest. “Excuse me just one minute,” she said, and Julien nodded. She flipped open the phone and turned away. “Hello.”
“Boss.” It was Carrier, excited as usual. “News update. I’m right, once again. It’s all Linette, all the time. I talked to the coroner and he said that Robert’s wounds were consistent with the knife from the Palm. He made a point of saying that it wasn’t the knife necessarily, just that it was just one of the possible knives. His report isn’t typed up yet, but you
’ll have to yell at him to get a copy. It’s not public record, so we struck out.”
“That’s okay. Good work.” Behind her back, Bennie heard the ringing of another cell phone. Julien’s. Dueling Motorolas; it was truly a modern moment. Julien slid his cell from his back pocket and answered it, and Bennie put a finger in her free ear to hear Carrier better.
The associate was saying, “Also, Murphy drafted the papers for your restraining order, it’s ready to go. But you have to appear in person and answer questions under oath.”
“I figured. Wonder how soon I can get that done.”
“Next week, she called the clerk. And she found out that Linette didn’t sign back in at his office last night. She got a copy of the sign-in log and a marriage proposal.”
Whoa. “Thanks. Call you later. See ya.” Bennie flipped the phone closed, her thoughts racing. So Linette hadn’t gone back to the office last night. She slipped the phone back into her purse and turned to Julien.
But he stood stunned, cell phone in hand, with his handsome features frozen into a shocked expression. He closed the phone numbly. “That was my uncle. The police just called.”
“What happened?”
“They have a suspect in my father’s murder,” he said shakily.
And Bennie’s mouth went dry.
28
Bennie pushed through the POLICE ONLY sign on the swinging half door that led to the cramped, cluttered squad room at the Homicide Division. The phones rang constantly and detectives conferred in small groups, clustered around messy desks of battleship gray, or searched file cabinets covered with Eagles bumper stickers, yellowed memos, and a stick-on decal of an Irish flag. The shirtsleeved detective manning the front desk was on the phone, and Bennie took advantage of the chaos to barrel past him.
“Stop! You can’t go back there,” he barked, covering the receiver, but Bennie caught sight of Detective Needleman coming out of interrogation room C.
“I’m a friend of Detective Needleman,” she said, and met him as he was closing the dark blue door behind him. The suspect had to be in the interrogation room, handcuffed to a chair, just as she had been. “Long time, no see, Bob. I hear you got a suspect in St. Amien. He in there?”