A Twisted Ladder (65 page)

Madeleine shook her head, maintaining eye contact.

“Please go on,” Jameson finally said.

Madeleine continued with the story, and Ms. Jameson stopped her at every turn to ask questions and prod for hidden information.

THE INTERVIEW HAD CONTINUED
for another two grueling hours, but Madeleine had held fast, maintaining composure and answering matter-of-factly. They’d hashed out the details of that night to exhaustion. The U.S. attorney relented, and she stopped looking at Madeleine as if she were a kernel of dried corn about to pop.

Finally, Ms. Jameson indicated that the interview was over. “Dr. LeBlanc, I’d like to reiterate that it is of the utmost importance that you relax and tell this story as simply and truthfully as you can. If you’re telling the truth, you have nothing to worry about.”

Madeleine nodded.

“I’d also like for you to attend the trial for the next few days until it’s time to give your testimony. I think it would help if you got used to the courtroom environment.”

The color drained from Madeleine’s face. She knew the courthouse would be swarming with reporters, and if she did anything conspicuous . . .

But she knew Jameson was right. It was crucial that Madeleine maintain composure on the stand. She agreed.

Jameson seemed to have caught Madeleine’s hesitation, and assumed that hawkish look once again.

“And, I’d like to go over your testimony one more time before you take the stand.”

Madeleine stood tall and tried to sound confident. “That sounds fine.”

“We’ll give you a call to set a time.”

MADELEINE WAS GLAD SHE
had agreed to attend the trial, because she was not prepared for just how imposing the courtroom turned out to be. More importantly, it gave her a chance to practice keeping Severin in check. Madeleine discovered that she could maintain entire conversations without saying a single word. She simply had to organize her thoughts into sentences, and Severin would reply as if Madeleine were speaking aloud.

Thus she managed to keep the child occupied, though it left little room for her to concentrate on what happened on the stand. As an observer, that wasn’t really an issue. But when on the stand, Madeleine would have to be able to concentrate, which meant ignoring Severin for a period of time. She had no idea how she would handle that.

As the time drew nearer to her testimony, Madeleine’s face had been in the papers and on the news. They had resurrected the details of how she found Anita in the water and later led the police to Zenon.

“All eyes are going to be on you,” Ethan said.

“I know.”

“Are you ready?”

“I think so. It’s been months, and no real incidents.”

“Yeah, I wasn’t so sure that was going to work. But you seem OK.”

And then Madeleine said, “I’m not sure what I would have done without you here.”

He stepped toward her. “You would have made it. You’re tough. But I’m glad you’re letting me be here for you.”

“It’s all right, you know. I wouldn’t hold it against you, if you decide . . .”

He stopped. “Decide what?”

“You know. If my condition gets too weird. It’s a lot to ask of someone if . . . I’m just saying it could get much worse. In fact it’ll probably get much worse.”

“Are you giving me permission to leave you?”

She looked away.

Ethan said, “Good God, Madeleine, I work with the human brain for a living. If anyone can handle this, it’s me. The only time I get second thoughts is when I get the feeling you’re trying to get rid of me.”

She shook her head. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve just seen first-hand where this can lead, when Daddy was at his worst. I can hardly stand the thought of you seeing me like that.”

“I told you I’m willing to take this on. The question is, are you?”

IN THE MORNING, SHE
awoke very early. Ethan was still sleeping.

Between meetings with the U.S. Attorney and familiarization with the courtroom, Madeleine felt she could tackle just about anything Joe Whitney had in store.

She just wished Jameson would stop harping about being truthful. Madeleine had no desire to stand before the court and lie. She would tell them the entire saga exactly as it happened, and only leave out those parts that pertained to Severin.

The problem was, when getting sworn in, the oath is to tell the
whole
truth. That was the part that Madeleine did not want to think about.

She went to the kitchen and made coffee and toast, paying attention to each smell and sensation. Cleared her mind in preparation of her testimony. Severin fussed about the room, but her mood seemed stable. Madeleine sat at the table and stared at the wall, letting the silence settle in, listening to nothing but the space around her.

“Severin,” she finally said. “I have to go to court today.”

“We’ve been going there almost every day.”

“Yes, we have. Only this time I have to take the stand, which means I have to testify.”

Severin wriggled on the couch.

“I have to talk to the lawyers for a long time,” Madeleine said. “And I may not be able to speak to you. Do you think you can be a good girl and behave while I’m up there?”

Severin’s eyes shimmered in the pre-dawn light, and she smiled with magnanimity and sweetness. “Of course!”

NEW ORLEANS, 1927

R
ÉMI STARED UP AT
them, his feet rooted to the landing. Chloe pulled the door to narrow the opening, but he had already seen into the master bedroom, where Jacob Chapman had been in his bed.

Rémi’s mouth went dry. Even in the dim light, he could see Chloe’s expression. Her eyes searched Rémi’s face as though wondering if he even recognized what he saw. Rémi felt sick. Ulysses began to laugh.

Rémi was moving again, so rapidly that his mind moved more slowly than his body. He lunged spiderlike up the staircase and burst through the door. Jacob was hurriedly dressing next to the bed. Rémi pounced on him, knocking him to the ground and wrapping his hands around his throat.

Jacob gagged once and then grimaced, gripping Rémi’s forearm with one hand and hitting at his face with his stump. Jacob’s tongue began to protrude.

Behind him Chloe was shrieking.
“Non, Rémi! Non!”

She gripped his shoulders and tried to wrench him away. With one quick movement, he backhanded her, sending her sprawling to the floor.

He turned back to Jacob who had managed to take a breath and struggle free, though he made no move toward counterattack.

He could kill Jacob now. Kill him with his bare hands. And what a satisfying way to elicit death.

The damnable pipe smoke. It stole his rage. Molded his thoughts. He realized, then, that the sensation didn’t seem to come from within him. It came from . . .

He raised his eyes to Chloe. She pulled herself to her knees and wiped blood from her mouth with the back of her hand. The three of them were heaving on the floor, blinking and gasping.

Rémi thought to kill them both.

And in the next instant, he thought instead to throw himself over the handrail.

He gripped the roots of his hair. This turmoil of thoughts, these warring notions.

He did neither. Instead, he rose to his feet and escaped.

ULYSSES HOUNDED RÉMI THE
entire distance back to Terrefleurs. With sour breath and vile words, he spoke of Rémi’s doom, chiding him for not having sought vengeance on the adulterers. Had he not warned Rémi about Jacob? Had Rémi not foiled Ulysses’s efforts to kill Jacob? And how could Rémi expect Chloe to remain faithful after all these years? She had only taken Rémi as a lover and a husband out of pity. She had no real loyalty to him. Ulysses told Rémi he had only one choice; he must take revenge on those who had betrayed him. If he did not, it would mean his ruin.

“Take your knife,” Ulysses said, lisping French through sparse teeth. “Go back to the house on Rue Toulouse. Remember it is your house, your own house where they fornicate. Kill them both. Burn the house down.”

“Get thee hence, you devil!” Rémi shouted in despair, but Ulysses only railed the louder.