Playing the Game

by Stephanie Queen

  Now she wiped her face with her hand and said aloud in the moonlit room, “It was only a dream. What’s wrong with me?”

  Bonnie appeared at her door. “I heard you scream …”

  She looked up at the woman’s questioning gaze. It was as if Bonnie didn’t need to be told. Nightmares were to be expected.

  But not this one.

  “It was so real, but it was only a dream. I’m still having palpitations.” Roxanne laughed a brittle laugh, putting her hand to her chest. She stepped toward the older woman. “Join me for a brandy. I’ll need it if I’m going to get back to sleep.”

  “Haven’t been sleeping well myself. But it’s no surprise with the court hearing tomorrow.”

  Roxanne poured two drinks and they sat in the pair of chairs at the silent fireplace.

  “I should be looking forward to it. Al’s very optimistic that it will end everything. That they’ll drop the charges.” She stared ahead. The anxious feeling left by the dream hadn’t left her. She took a long swallow of the brandy. It felt warm and invigorating. But she knew it wouldn’t help.

  There was something about that dream that wouldn’t go away. And it wasn’t something good.

  “Of course Al also mentioned it would be a day of hell before it’s over. Once the criminal case goes away he’s certain he can get the civil suit dismissed too. And I’ll still have to deal with the media for a while.” Roxanne was glad for the comfort of Bonnie’s presence.

  Bonnie shook her head. She downed her brandy and rose to leave. “You’ll handle it. You always do—a hell of a lot better than your mother ever did or would have.” Bonnie almost smiled, patted her arm, then turned and shuffled from the room.

  Roxanne hadn’t heard such kind words from the older woman in a long time. “Thank you, Bonnie,” she called out after the woman. Bonnie snorted in reply.

  Now she had to attempt to go back to sleep. She lay in bed with her covers pulled up to her chin, not from the cold but for protection. The residue of terror remained with her for the rest of the night.

  Al hired a driver to take them to the courthouse. He seemed more nervous than she was, Roxanne thought. Bonnie stayed home. Roxanne knew Bonnie wouldn’t want to get emotional in public.

  “We’ve got everything put together for the hearing—the expert forensic testimony, the results of the testing on the dynamics of the fall from the deck. At least that should surprise them. We have everything covered except one detail of course.” Al looked at her.

  “Mark Baines.”

  “Right. Not a minor detail, I’m afraid. Roxy, to be perfectly frank, we need his testimony if we want to prevent this thing from going any further. I haven’t heard from the detective this morning. Maybe that means he’s got him and they’re in flight.” Al looked skeptical.

  She stared back at him unblinking. “He’ll show.” She didn’t know why or how she knew, but she felt sure. She felt calm. She used up all her heart palpitations last night.

  “You’re either being terribly optimistic or a little too cocky.”

  “Call it a hunch.” Roxanne smiled at him.

  “I hope your psychic powers are real. There’s been enough bad press on this case to sway opinion already.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be okay. I’ve decided. I won’t let anything bother me from here on out. I’ve decided I can live with myself, and that’s who I have to live with. I’m not perfect, but I know I’m better than I was. And you’re wonderful, do you realize that?” She touched his arm. His smile lasted only momentarily.

  Al fell into silence. They had arrived. They could see the assembled media waiting for them. He turned to her when the door was opened for them. He stared at her. There were tears in his eyes.

  She looked away. Her stomach knotted, tearing at her insides. So much for her calm. He took her face with her hand and turned it back to look at him. He was more composed now.

  “No matter what happens, Rox, remember two things: we’ll find a way to prove you innocent and …” He paused, searching her face. Then he sighed. “And I love you.” He turned from her and got out of the car before she could say or do anything.

  Her mouth opened. But all she did was sigh.

  The probable cause hearing began in the Marblehead District Court before the clerk magistrate, without Mark Baines. Roxanne was led into the courtroom with Al and a uniformed officer. At first she didn’t look at the people filling the benches, only straight ahead at the chair that awaited her behind the defendant’s table. But before she sat, she looked around. She bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling and held her chin high as she glanced around the crowded courtroom.

  There were familiar faces of friends who nodded at her, and there were the curious stares of the media. Before she glanced away, she caught the eyes of someone unexpected. Barry.

  He met her eyes without expression, but with acknowledgment. Roxanne took her seat then, before the sudden unsteadiness of her nerves reached her legs. She looked over her shoulder and saw Penelope’s smug face.

  The proceedings began with the assistant district attorney’s opening speech to the Clerk Magistrate. Roxanne tried not to listen. “…there is sufficient evidence to show that Roxanne Monet had motive, opportunity and the means to have murdered her late husband, Donald Boswell III. Medical evidence will support the conclusion that the cause of death was murder induced by severe head impact of the deceased’s skull on the rocks where his body was found.” He paused to look over at her. She met his eyes. It was clear so far that their strongest “evidence” was her supposed motive.

  The clerk magistrate was about to prompt the ADA to go on when there was a commotion at the back of the court. Someone had come in and riled up the media.

  Roxanne turned around to look, not knowing what to expect. Her heart leapt to her throat and her hand automatically came to her mouth to stifle the cry.

  Mark Baines walked from the back of the room down to the front where she sat with Al. The clerk magistrate pounded his gavel to quiet the murmurs and sudden confusion.

  Mark’s face was taut and tanned. He looked thinner and sported a scraggly beard and longish hair. He looked at her with regret in his eyes and introduced himself to Al. Al’s detective had walked in behind Mark and shrugged his shoulders.

  “I found him.” The PI shrugged again and took a seat in the front row behind them.

  Mark remained standing and watching Roxanne long and hard before turning toward the clerk magistrate who patiently waited for an explanation. “I hope I’m not too late to prevent this miscarriage of justice from going any further,” he said.

  “I hope not too,” Al said.

  “Sit down. This is my courtroom,” the magistrate said.

  “We’ll get an affidavit later. You’ll have to speak for yourself on the stand. It’s highly unusual but I think the magistrate will let it go under the circumstances,” Al whispered to Mark while she listened in with her heart pounding in her ears again.

  “I think I can handle it,” Mark said. He looked at her again. “I’m sorry. I’ve been a coward.” He smiled. “But at least I’m not as much of a coward as Don was. Don’t worry.”

  Roxanne smiled back. There was a lead ball in her stomach now and her nerves jumped. She thought he looked terrible and was freshly panicked. “I’ve missed you, Mark.” She couldn’t help her watery eyes. He leaned over and gave her a hug. She pressed his strong shoulders to her, welcoming the comforting warmth of a friend.

  The ADA finished conferring with Detective Turner. The magistrate grew impatient, and the crowd started humming louder and louder.

  Roxanne could feel the tension behind her. Camera flashes were going off. Al turned to see.

  “Jesus. They’re taking pictures of Barry.” Al sounded disgusted. But she doubted it matched the alarm she felt. She didn’t want him to leave. But she didn’t want him to be put through this either. She didn’t dare turn around or it would only make the situation worse.

  “Ok
ay. Let’s get this show rolling. Mr. Assistant District Attorney?” The magistrate banged his gavel and nodded to the ADA to continue.

  “We will establish that Roxanne Monet had the motive. She was desperate to get out of her marriage. Here are the depositions from many witnesses to her public fights with her late husband. There’s no doubt she wanted to retain her fortune and knew about the updated conditions of the will. I would like to submit this material for review.” The ADA handed over a stack of documents and files that looked intimidating to Roxanne by virtue of the mere volume. She wondered if they’d gotten Don’s lawyer to lie about her knowledge of the will. Of course they were conveniently leaving out the fact that he’d changed it back and that she hadn’t taken a dime of any of it, making everything to do with the will a moot point for motive.

  “Opportunity: Roxanne Monet was witnessed leaving the party she claimed to have been attending all night the night of the murder. I have affidavits here from witnesses who say she left alone and was gone for at least an hour and a half before she was seen returning in a disheveled state.

  “Further, Roxanne Monet knew her husband would be at her home. We have affidavits from neighbors who say he had been witnessed at her house frequently since their separation. He’d been harassing her for weeks.

  “Means: Roxanne Monet met Donald Boswell III, took him for a walk along the rocky shore, and most likely pushed him from behind on the slippery rocks, causing him to fall, his feet coming out from under him, fatally bashing his skull on those rocks. She left him, either for dead, or assumed if he was unconscious he would soon drown in the incoming tide. Then she carefully climbed back up to her back deck and returned to the party.” He handed over the last stack of documents to the clerk magistrate.

  Barry felt the eyes of the people and media surrounding him as he stared at the back of her head. Wishing he could light up a cigarette, he raked his fingers through his hair. The ADA finished his opening and it had sounded too real coming from a pro. He found it difficult to concentrate on anything but Roxanne anymore. She hadn’t moved. He tried again to pay attention to what Al was saying now. He wished to God he could see her face, wished he could touch her. The jolt of seeing her embrace Mark Baines had forced him to realize exactly how much he wanted her. For himself. If Al didn’t punch the guy out later, maybe he would. Why the hell had he waited so long to show up?

  Al began his argument. “I would like to enter into evidence the testimony of one last, but very important witness, Mark Baines. But due to the timing of this matter, I request that Mr. Baines be allowed to take the stand and speak for himself,” Al said.

  “Keep it short and to the point.”

  Mark took the stand. Barry watched, his attention drawn now to the man. He couldn’t help noticing the difference in Mark’s appearance since the last time they’d met. He listened to Mark tell his story.

  “On the evening in question, the evening of Donald Boswell’s death, I was with Roxanne Monet at a party—as I stated previously in an interview with the police. I know there have been some questions as to Roxanne’s whereabouts during the middle of the party at about eleven p.m. She told people she was going home.

  “But instead she took a ride with me.” Mark paused and sighed before continuing. “She ran into me on her way out. I’m afraid I coerced her into going for a drive. We drove along the coast and parked the car at a beach and talked.”

  “What was your relationship with Roxanne Monet at that time?” Al prompted.

  “I was in love with Roxanne …still am in love with Roxanne.” He paused again, this time to wait for the murmurs throughout the courtroom to die down. Barry couldn’t help the sudden jump of his pulse at hearing this. It wasn’t a surprise, yet he didn’t want to hear about it. He watched Roxanne’s head lower, but she raised it again when Mark continued.

  “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. Bu
t 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.