by Cathryn Fox
“I told her how I felt that night. I gave her a gift. She said she couldn’t accept it and she gave it back. I still have it.” He removed a slim jewelry box from his coat pocket and held it up for Al to take. Al opened and held up a brilliant diamond bracelet for the magistrate and everyone in the court to see. The room erupted. The magistrate pounded his gavel.
This time Barry looked away. The reporters watched him. There was nowhere for him to turn. He rubbed his eyes and turned back to the witness stand. Barry wondered what Mark’s point was in revealing all of this. He wondered how much more he could stand. He hoped to hell Al knew what he was doing, besides torturing him.
“Was Roxanne in love with you?” Al asked Mark bluntly.
“Is all this necessary?” The clerk magistrate spoke up, voicing Barry’s own feelings.
“Yes, it will become clear shortly.”
“I hope so.” The magistrate glanced at Mark.
“It’s all right,” Mark said to the magistrate, and then faced the room before zeroing in on Roxanne. “No, she was not at any time in love with me.” Mark finished.
“This goes to motive,” Al said. “Or lack thereof. It seems Ms. Monet did not have a reason to murder her husband on Mark Baines’s account.”
Barry wanted to disappear. He noticed Roxanne’s head was lowered again, until Al approached the stand where Mark sat to ask yet another torturous question. Barry felt himself hold his breath.
“Did you make love with her that night at the beach?” Al asked, unrelenting.
This time Barry watched Roxanne almost cry out and shake her head no. He continued to hold his breath.
“Yes,” Mark answered.
Roxanne dropped her head to her hands on the table in front of her. Barry slowly forced himself to breathe again. All he could hear was the pounding of the pulse in his temple, but he knew she was crying. What was wrong with Al? Why was he doing this? The magistrate asked the same question again as to relevance.
“To establish the character of Roxanne Monet,” Al said.
She shifted her head at that and looked at Al. Barry narrowed his eyes, anger beginning to simmer. What about her character?
“Roxanne Monet was a woman who never loved a single man, Your Honor, but rather all men. She was a heartbreaker, and still is.” Al turned to her. She met his stare. Barry’s mouth hung open as every head in the room turned from Roxanne to him. Mark was finally prompted to finish his testimony.
“After…we made love and she turned down my gift, I offered to drive her home, but she said no. Her car was at the party. So we returned. That was at about one a.m. I stayed there with her, watching her flirt with other men the rest of the night. I felt sorry for Don. I’d met him at a benefit earlier that year, and they were clearly having problems. She was flirting, not just with me, but also with every man at the party. Don was watching her then, the same way I was watching her that night. I can’t even imagine the pain he must have felt. For me, it was like a burning, searing pain in my chest that wouldn’t subside. I know it was worse for him. He had a haunted look in his eyes. She’d turned me down. He’d had more of her. He’d married her. He had so much more to lose.
“Don Boswell didn’t die of a crushed skull. He died of a broken heart.” He paused while the crowd in the room gasped and murmured before the magistrate once again banged his gavel. Then he finished. “In a way, since she broke his heart, she did murder Donald Boswell. I know for a fact that he was desperate enough to commit suicide, that he did take his own life and …I would do the same if I were in his shoes.” He stopped and stared at Roxanne. She stared back, mouthing the word no, over and over again.
Barry could feel the hairs on his arms stand on end. No is right, he thought. He stood. Heads turned toward him, but he remained rooted until she turned, hearing the murmurs and gasps from the crowd. It seemed to him as if she turned her head in slow motion toward him. His head pounded with the pulse of his blood. He felt as if it would explode in another instant. He watched as her lovely chin came around and he met her eyes in the next moment.
The sudden gasping pain he saw in her eyes almost made him sit back down. But a quick flicker of his gaze toward Mark, still on the stand, compelled him to move. With the slightest nod of his head toward her, he moved from the bench, turned and walked through the doors at the back of the courtroom without looking back.
Roxanne’s vision blurred as the door shut behind Barry. The magistrate kept banging his gavel and she felt the pounding in her head. She hadn’t realized she was crying until Al wiped the tears from her cheek with the hanky from his chest pocket. It was just like her dream. Donald killed Barry so she couldn’t have him. He was gone.
“Are we ready to wrap this up now?” The clerk magistrate asked the ADA and Al. Al was nodding his head, when a man sitting behind the ADA’s table stood, slid from the bench and stepped forward. Penelope stood too.
“What are you doing?” Penelope hissed. The man stopped and looked back at Penelope for an instant and shook his head. Then he turned to the Clerk Magistrate and asked permission to address the court.
“Sir, I have some very important evidence that I would like to provide to the defense counsel and the ADA at this time. My name is Melvin Lipman and I have been in the employ of Mrs. Penelope Boswell for several months concerning her son’s death.” The man handed some papers over to Al and the ADA. The clerk magistrate gestured for the man to give him a copy as well. The magistrate waved at the ADA, Detective Turner and Al to come forward.
Roxanne couldn’t believe this. Penelope was still trying to come up with evidence to convince them of her guilt. After conferring for a couple of minutes, the magistrate sent the men back to their seats and spoke.
“Mr. Lipman will take the stand and explain what this all about. But keep it brief. We’ve already spent more time than was expected.” The magistrate gestured toward Melvin.
Melvin took the stand and was sworn in.
“It’s simple. What I have here is a suicide note written by Donald Boswell and left for his mother to find.”
This time the gasps came from the professionals in the room as well as the onlookers. Roxanne felt dizzy, as if the words sucked the oxygen from her brain. She blinked, struggling to think. She’d always known deep down that Don had committed suicide, but it took her a minute to realize fully the implications of what the man said. Was it possible? Had Penelope known the truth the entire time and yet tried to ruin her all along out of sheer hatred?
Roxanne turned her head to meet the woman’s eyes. Penelope didn’t flinch. She didn’t bother to turn away. They understood each other perfectly. Funny thing was, Roxanne felt nothing for the woman, no anger, no hatred. The only thing she could muster, after all was said and done, was sympathy. And she was sure that would be the last thing the woman wanted from her.
“The note must be verified by experts. Detective Turner, I trust you will take care of that.” The magistrate turned his attention to Roxanne. “In the meantime, in the interest of justice and in the interest of time, I would like to hear from Mrs. Boswell.” He ordered Penelope to take the stand.
“Mrs. Boswell, is it true that you found this note which appears to be a warning of suicide from your son?”
“Yes.” She spoke without life. There was no smugness, no sadness, no spark of determination or vindictive outrage left in her.
“Can you attest to the authenticity of this note? Is this your son’s handwriting?”
She looked up at the magistrate. Her eyes were glazed. She nodded her head. “Yes.”
“Case dismissed,” the magistrate said and banged his gavel. He turned to Detective Turner. “Exhume the body and have another autopsy done, with special attention paid to the manner of death. We’ll hold a coroner’s inquest if need be, but I don’t think we’re looking at murder here at all.” The clerk magistrate rose and left the bench.
The court was dismissed. The charges against her were dropped. Everyone spoke at once. Th
e place was a riot of motion and chatter. But Roxanne stood still, staring blankly at the door at the back of the courtroom where Barry had disappeared from her life.
The party atmosphere spread through Al’s office, showing in everyone’s faces, their laughter and the loud tenor of their voices. Roxanne looked around and even though all the jubilance was on her behalf, she didn’t feel the mood.
Al and his secretary worked at popping the cork on a bottle of Moet. Roxanne figured his secretary must have gone out to buy it because Al hadn’t seemed so cocksure this morning that they would be celebrating. Everyone was there: Mark, Laura, Tim, Bonnie, Al’s staff. Harry was missing. And Barry Dennis.
Laura brought a plastic cup full of the champagne in her direction. “This is great. I can’t believe you got off so quickly. But yes I can. And that’s not all. Harry’s on his way over. He has some good news too.”
“What is it?” Roxanne asked without much enthusiasm as she took the plastic cup of champagne, but didn’t bother to drink it.
“Let’s wait for Harry.” Laura stifled what looked like a long story and hugged her with sudden fury.
“Wow. It must be good.” Roxanne chuckled as she hugged her friend back.
Laura stood back from her with a serious look replacing the frown she used to wear. Not anymore. No frowns since she married Tim. Roxanne sighed.
“I know it was tough for you today, Rox. But you have to try and forget about it all now. At least try and be happy it’s over.”
“I’ll never forget it, since ‘it’ is me.”
Laura nodded her head in agreement and patted Roxanne on the back. “Guess the way Al handled things would give me pause too, but it was more courtroom dramatics than reality, honey,” Laura said as the two joined everyone at Al’s desk.
“I should be celebrating the fact that I have the best, most supportive group of friends anyone could ever ask for.” She smiled at her best friend.
Al beamed as he hung up his phone and spoke to her from behind his desk. “Rox, I just got a call from the clerk at the courthouse on the civil suit. He said the judge is dismissing the case and we should have the notice by next week.” He came around and walked over to join her group.
“Great job. All my creditors are now happy. I can sell the house and pay you for all you’ve done.” She felt no excitement, but a sense of finality at least.
“I’m glad to help. And glad to finally repay you for the help you gave me,” Al said in a quieter voice.
Harry arrived then, freshly excited and all smiles. Al poured him some champagne. Roxanne still didn’t feel the urge to celebrate. If truth be told, she felt cool toward Al in spite of the fact that he’d won the day for her. Maybe she should be grateful, but she shuddered thinking about his courtroom tactics. The charges had been dropped, but she still felt guilty after all that was said.
Harry lifted his plastic bubbly-filled cup in her direction. She nodded.
“Everything’s going smoothly back at the hospital now, you’ll be happy to know,” he said. He glanced around the circle of friends. “I’ve been on the phone with a forensic accounting company. They’re coming in to do an audit starting next week. Rox they’re sure to verify what we already know.”
“What’s that?”
“That Dr. Colin Evans has been misappropriating funds. We knew he’d been authorizing withdrawals from Dr. Oki’s Research Fund Trust Account to deposit into the Construction Trust Account. Seems his project got into trouble when he started putting the money into some poorly performing hedge funds. He tried to bail himself out with that high cost bank loan—the one coming due in May. One of the major donors found out and pulled out on his financial backing, leaving Colin with no way to repay his bank note.
“This was about that time that you were getting the bad press on Don’s death. So rather than take a chance on losing his position, Dr. Evans decided to try and frame you. He sabotaged the NIH grant partly because he was afraid of their audit, partly because he knew you’d try and make up the money and then he could use it.
“He figured he could get away with blaming you for embezzlement since your credibility was in the toilet from the murder rumors. I’m not sure if there’s a Penelope tie-in there. I’m still working on that.”
“Where’s the connection?” Al wanted to know.
Roxanne stood silent, trying to assimilate the story. She hoped there was a tie-in somehow. Because the idea that she would be attacked separately on two fronts by two different people at once was too much to bear.
“The financial backer who withdrew his support was Roger Smythe,” Laura answered.
“Don’s cousin?” Roxanne was stunned. It was all too much.
“Now that you’ve solved that puzzle, Harry, you ought to have Sam put you on his payroll as an honorary detective,” Tim teased.
“Laura did most of the work.” Harry was clearly proud and Roxanne leaned over and gave him a hug of appreciation.
“With the kind of enemies I have, it’s a good thing I have friends like all of you.” She felt teary and blinked in panic. No way did she want to cry when they were all celebrating and happy. Even if they might assume her tears were of joy. She changed the subject and turned to Tim.
“What about the fund for your research? Do you have enough money to go on?” Roxanne suddenly realized with horror that he might not.
“We’re taking the money back from the construction project, of course. They owe us,” Laura said.
“Construction has been stopped pending the audit findings. After we get back the money that was taken the fund will have no problem reaching the goal in May. By then we should be well on our way to getting approval for a new NIH grant,” Harry spoke up. He took a swig of his champagne as if it were a beer, then made a face at the taste. Al’s cell phone rang and he answered it. The rest of them moved away from his desk to let him talk.
“You guys have been incredible,” Roxanne said. “I didn’t realize how much work you were doing while I was home loafing the past two weeks.” Roxanne gave them a teasing smile, but she felt sincerely stunned by them.
Then she thought for the first time about what was ahead. Her teeth caught her bottom lip. The blank horizon that loomed in her mind scared her into action. She downed her champagne, flooding the future, for now, with the fizzing bubbles of her drink. She deserved a moment of reprieve. She could think about what the heck she would do next another time.
“How’s Lindy doing, Doc?” She asked the question from nowhere, but with a dire need to hear the answer before she put the subject aside.
“She’s well. She’ll be ready for rehab in a few days.” He met her eyes. But no one else was ready for an uncomfortable conversation right now either, so she dropped it.
“Let’s all go out—on me,” Al suggested.
They left his office, all except his staff. Roxanne was now ready to put this all behind her—maybe. She walked out the glass doors of the suite and sighed, letting out a shaky breath.
She wished it wasn’t so hard to be happy.
Maybe it was too much to wish for everything. What she had now would have to do—lots of good friends and her bills paid. It was plenty and it was everything she was going to get. It was everything she wanted, except Barry Dennis.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“ROX, THAT was the real estate agent calling about your house,” Al said from the other end of the phone. “Looks like we have a seriously interested buyer.” She and Bonnie sat at the kitchen table having coffee. It had only been a week.
“How serious?” She was skeptical. These last days she felt like a zombie, not in tune to her life. But this offer seemed to come too fast and out of nowhere. She hadn’t even realized her house was officially on the market yet.
“Cash offer of $800,000.” Al sounded like he was grinning. She pictured him. “Not top of the range, but respectable.”
Roxanne blew out a long whistle and looked at Bonnie. “That is serious. Sold. When do I
need to move out?” She could hardly bring herself to think about staying another minute now.
“It’ll have to be soon. Cash deals move pretty quickly, but I can probably get you a couple of weeks. Maybe more if you want.”
“No don’t bother. I’ll move tomorrow,” Roxanne said not bothering to hide her relief. She glanced at Bonnie. The old woman nodded.
“I can move into Laura’s apartment. It’s been sitting empty since she got married and the rent’s paid till the end of February,” she told Al and ended their call.
Then she looked over at Bonnie. Bonnie’s face was unreadable, but Roxanne sensed some recognition in the woman of the inevitable.
“Still as impulsive as ever, I see?” Bonnie shook her head. “Looks like I ought to buy that plane ticket sooner than later.”
Roxanne pulled out of the parking garage of the high-rise condo where Laura used to live. This was it. Al said the papers were ready to sign to sell the house. Somehow that act would have even more finality to it than her victory at the probable cause hearing.
The juices in her stomach kicked in as she pulled onto the highway heading north of Boston. Even though she complained to Al at first, she supposed it was fitting that she return to the scene of the crime one last time. She would go back to the house to sign it away. She hadn’t been back since the day after she accepted the offer. She packed a few personal things and the movers had done the rest.
Bonnie didn’t hesitate to move back to Chicago. Her departure had been painful, but Roxanne felt relieved at the same time. She could no longer afford to depend on the old woman, nor could she afford to support her. And Bonnie needed some rest. The ordeal of the last six months had taken a toll on the older woman.
At the airport, Bonnie’s parting words were, “You’ll feel relief soon. With me gone, it’ll be like having a thorn removed from your side.” Roxanne smiled now, remembering.
