Appearances, copyright 2006, by Etienne. All rights reserved.

-9-

The Morning After

After Philip and I finally got out of bed, I suggested a morning run along the beach. It was about nine o'clock when we went downstairs, but there was no sign of either Lydia or Harry. We repeated our run and walk of the day before. This time, we lingered in the shower room only long enough to rinse the sand from our feet. When we emerged into the kitchen, where we found Lydia and Harry sitting at the counter drinking coffee, we had our towels tied modestly around our waists.

"Excuse us," I said, adding "I think we've played this scene already."

Lydia laughed at that. "You two run on upstairs and get dressed. I'll round up some breakfast. I was waiting for you to get back before I started it."

We went upstairs and showered, shaved and dressed in shorts and knit shirts. By the time we returned to the kitchen, all the makings of breakfast were laid out on the counter. Philip and I washed the dishes and cleaned up the kitchen after breakfast, while Lydia and Harry sat at the counter drinking coffee, the four of us carrying on an intermittent conversation about nothing in particular.

When all the dishes were put away, including the cups she and Harry had been using, Lydia looked at me and said "I think it's time Harry and I went back to Tallahassee."

"Must you?" I said. I meant it, too.

She looked at me with a strange expression, and said "I think that we must." Then she walked over and whispered in my ear "You know damn well that Harry and I are here under false pretenses. Besides, I think you and Philip need to be alone. It will do you both a world of good."

I really couldn't argue with her logic, and within the hour, they had gathered their respective belongings and were in her car. We stood in the yard and watched them drive away.

I looked at Philip. "Alone at last."

He smiled and held out his hand. I took it, and we went back in the house and up to the living area. We spent the rest of Sunday, and all of Monday, doing as little as possible, except for our morning runs along the beach, which had become a ritual. We also continued the process of getting better acquainted with each other, embarking over the course of a day and a half, on a voyage of discovery.

Monday evening we decided to go into town and dine at one of the better restaurants. When we got back to the house, I decided it was time to broach the subject that I knew must be foremost in both of our minds. I had, until then, pointedly refrained from mentioning the murder, and so had Philip.

"Much as I hate to break the spell, I guess I had better call Richard and see what has been happening in Atlanta."

Philip looked at me, and said quietly, "I know."

I went to the telephone and managed to catch Richard at home. He told me that the warrant had been issued late on Friday as expected. His investigation was under way, but it was early days at this point and he had little to report. He started to quiz me about the weekend, but I told him that he would have to wait until we got back before his curiosity could be satisfied.

I told Philip what I had found out, and then I dialed Andrew's number.

He answered the phone on the second ring. "Hello Andrew," I said, "this is your protégée calling." The protégée bit was a little joke between us.

"Charles," he said, "I'm so glad to hear from you. Is everything all right down there? Richard has kept me posted on things here in Atlanta."

"Everything is just fine down here," I told him, continuing "We have had a wonderful weekend."

"Well," he said, "You certainly do sound more like your old self."

"I suppose I must," I replied. "It has been quite a weekend, in more ways than one. To make a long story short, you will be glad to know that I think I have finally laid Robert to rest."

"It was high time you did so," he said, "Perhaps you will tell me about it sometime, if you feel like it."

"Most likely," I answered. "Anyway, we will be in the office around nine o'clock tomorrow morning for a brief conference before we go to the police station and set things in motion."

"I will see you then," he replied, adding "Give my regards to Philip."

"I will," I promised, and then remembered something. "By the way, I forgot to ask Richard if there had been anything in the papers about the murder, or for that matter, the issuance of a warrant."

"No," he said, "there has been absolutely no mention of the case in any of the media, as far as I can tell. My guess is that they are waiting to make the arrest, and then will make the most of it with the media."

"I expect you are right." I said goodbye, and hung up the telephone.

Turning to Philip, I said "Andrew sends you his regards."

Philip didn't reply. He was clearly thinking about something else, and finally looked at me and asked "What exactly will happen tomorrow? At the police station, I mean."

I described the process of booking, fingerprinting, etc.

"It will be pretty much cut and dried. If they ask you any questions, you will simply refuse to answer without your attorney present. Meanwhile, I will be arranging to have you arraigned at the one o'clock court session which is held daily for that purpose. Basically, we will appear, the charges will be read, and I will enter a plea of not guilty. The prosecutor will ask for an exorbitant amount of bail, and I will argue that it be reduced. In the end, the judge will rule on an amount of bail to satisfy the court, and they will take you back to a holding cell while I go and post the bail. As soon as the paperwork has been completed, you will be free to go."

"Then what?"

"We get to work, preparing a defense. You and I will have a series of conferences with Richard, concerning the investigation that is under way. We will also spend a lot of time with one of my associates, a young man named Mark Tatum. He will be assisting me with the preparation for the trial, as well as the trial itself."

"When do you think the trial will be?"

"From what I know of the current case load, it could be as late as the first of the year. On the other hand, if Wetherbee plans to make a show of the trial, it might be as early as the week after Labor Day. We will just have to wait and see, but my guess is he will try to delay until spring if he can get away with it - he expects to win and it will look good just before the primaries. During the interim, you can get back to your normal daily routine."

He thought for a moment, and then a sly smile spread across his face. "And what about my nightly routine?"

That caused me to smile, as well. "As far as I am concerned, your dance card is full every evening." Before he could respond, I quickly added "Unless, of course you have better things to do."

"None worth mentioning, or for that matter, worth doing," he said.

"Concerning logistics, I would be more than happy to have you move in with me for the duration. If you need your own space, I can certainly understand, but it is already difficult for me to contemplate not having you around all of the time."

"Well then," he said, "I guess you've got yourself another roommate. Besides," he added, "I haven't forgotten our agreement."

We made an early night of it, and were at the airport by four the next morning, and in the air ten minutes later. Aided by a tail wind for most of the flight back, we arrived in Marietta just in time to beat the rush hour traffic. We were back at the townhouse with plenty of time to dress for our meeting with Andrew. I had left instructions for Richard to take Philip's suit and dress shirt to a one-hour cleaner on Friday, so that there would be no need to go by Philip's apartment. It would have been too risky, anyway. Thus prepared, we arrived at my office around a quarter to nine, and knocked on Andrew's door a few minutes later.

Andrew was clearly astonished at my appearance, and said so. "I don't know what happened to you this weekend," he said, "but it has obviously done wonders. You sounded like your old self last night, and you look even better this morning."

"That's surprising, considering that we were in the air a little after four this morning. However, you are right, it was a wonderful weekend."

Small talk out of the way, I got down to cases and outlined again for Andrew my intentions for the morning and afternoon. Philip and I then excused ourselves, and went into my office. "You might want to leave all of your belongings locked up here," I said. "They will make you empty your pockets at the police station, and signing for and verifying them will slow things down this afternoon when I spring you."

"Okay,” he said, “I'm in your hands," and emptied his pockets of wallet, keys, etc.

I locked them in my desk drawer, then called Rosemary in and gave her a few instructions, and we were ready. When Rosemary left, I closed the door and turned to Philip, who was standing beside me. I hugged him quickly and kissed him. "I won't be able to do that where we are going. However, I promise that I will get you back out just as fast as humanly possible."

"I know," he replied.

We walked a few blocks to the police department, up the steps, and waited in line to see the Desk Sergeant.

When it was our turn, I gave the Sergeant my card, and said "this is Mr. Philip d'Autremont, my client. It is our understanding that there is a warrant out for his arrest, and we are here so that he can surrender."

The Sergeant, obviously recognizing Philip's name, picked up his telephone and spoke to a higher authority. "Wait just a minute, please," he said, "someone will be right out."

We were in luck, for the Detective who came to fetch us was one that I knew at least casually, and more importantly, one for whom I had a great deal of respect. He could have, had he chosen to do so, placed Philip in handcuffs on the spot. Instead, he permitted us to follow him back to his small cubicle, where I explained that I would like for Philip to be booked as quickly as possible, as I wanted his case included in the afternoon arraignments. He saw no problem with my request, and initiated the paperwork. In no time, it seemed, Philip was led away from me. I spent some time visiting the appropriate functionaries in the jail and courthouse, in order to set the wheels in motion to have Philip's arraignment that afternoon, and, satisfied that I had done all that was humanly possible, I went back to the office to catch up on work, and to wait.

Andrew called me around eleven and suggested that I join him for lunch, which I was happy to do, as it would get my mind off of the waiting process. I walked down the hall to his office at eleven, and we walked to a nearby restaurant where it was possible to find a quiet table, if one arrived early enough. I ordered a salad and nothing else, and he selected a soup and salad. After we ordered, I gave him a bare bones outline of the weekend, pausing only while the waiter placed our food in front of us. He was perceptive enough to fill in the blanks, and didn't ask too many questions.

After I finished, he said "When was the last time you talked to Caroline?" He and Gran were old friends.

"Not since last week. I had planned to call her before I left for Florida, but as you know, things got a little out of hand. Why?"

"She called me Saturday, voicing some concern. I told her a little of what was going on, and she made me promise to remind you to call her when you got back. She has been worried about you for a long time, as have we all. I think perhaps it would be good if you and Philip dropped by to see her this evening, if at all possible. She will immediately see, as would anyone who knows you, that you are well out of your doldrums."

I promised to call her as soon as we got back to the office, and said that a visit would be nice, if Philip felt up to it after the ordeal of the day. Our conversation then turned to the murder case. I again outlined my game plan to Andrew, using him as a sounding board as I often did. As usual, he made a few minor suggestions. We arrived back at the office in time for me to place a couple of telephone calls, one of them to Gran.

"Hi," I said on hearing the familiar voice, "this is your long lost heir."

"Oh, Charles (she, not believing in nicknames, had never once called me Charley), I have been so worried about you. I even called Andrew and asked him about you."

"I know, he just told me about it over lunch." Before she could reply, I added "Are you free this evening?"

"Aren't I always, these days?" she said with a chuckle.

"Well then, I might come over with a friend for you to meet."

"Might?"

"Well, he just surrendered to the police, and I have got to go and get him out of jail in a few minutes. If he isn't too exhausted from the ordeal, we may drop in later."

She, to her great credit, did not probe - no doubt having learned enough from Andrew to guess what was going on. We said goodbye, and I began to gather the items I would need for Philip's arraignment.

I arrived in the courtroom a few minutes before one, and found it packed. Three day weekends have a definite impact on the courts, I reflected. I went up to the Clerk, who was already in her seat, and obtained a list of the cases to be dealt with. It was a lengthy one, and I was thankful that I had been able to pull a few strings that morning, for Philip's name was fifth on the list. I found a seat in the section reserved for Attorneys, just in time to watch the first dozen defendants, Philip among them, being led into the courtroom. He sat about two rows in front of and a little to the right of where I was sitting. He turned around to look for me, and I gave him a smile of encouragement studying him as closely as I could from where I was sitting. He looked pale and not a little bewildered, but his face brightened at my smile.

Finally, his case was called, and I went down to take my place beside him. "Charles Barnett, of Chandler, Todd, Woodward & Barnett, representing the defendant," I said. The charge (murder one) was read, and I entered a plea of not guilty. The prosecutor, one of the Deputy District Attorneys, asked that bail be set in the amount of One Million Dollars.

I responded "Your honor, we feel that is extremely excessive. The defendant has been a resident of this city for at least a decade, has property here, and many ties to the community. Furthermore, he voluntarily surrendered to the authorities the minute he returned from the long weekend and learned of the warrant."

The DDA and I wrangled back and forth for a bit, and the Judge finally set bail in the sum of $250,000. There followed further haggling with the DDA as to the date for trial. I had expected that the push would be on for a speedy trial, but I was wrong, the date finally arrived at being the first Monday after New Years. Finally it was over, and the next case was called. I leaned over and whispered to Philip, "What did I tell you - in by nine, out by two."

Before he could reply, he was led away and out of the room. I walked down the hallway and made the necessary arrangements, and finally was ushered into a small conference room containing two chairs on opposite sides of a small table, where he was presently brought to join me while we waited for word that he was free to go. I motioned him to the other chair. "Might as well have a seat, it will be a few minutes before the paperwork is finished."

He sat down, but did not say anything, so I asked "Well, was it as bad as you feared?"

"No," he answered, finally, "not too bad. I got the impression that the word was out to handle me with care. You must have had something to do with that." He added, "Have you ever been locked up in jail?"

"No I haven't," I said, "but I have a feeling for what it must be like. Lord knows enough clients have described it to me, over the years."

"Well, I don't know what they told you, but it's very disconcerting."

I decided to distract him a bit. "Did they feed you?"

"There were some sandwiches and cokes available, but I wasn't hungry."

"Are you up to a meeting with Mark and me after we get out of here?"

"Once I get out of here, I'm sure I will be up to almost anything."

"Good. We will make it as short as possible. We are both tired from the early flight, and I prescribe an early evening."

I had seen this reaction to jail before, and kept him talking about anything and everything - except of course the situation at hand. Finally, there was the rattle of a key in the door, and one of the bailiffs stuck his head in the door. "Okay, counselor, you can take your client out of here."

I thanked him, and ushered Philip out the door, down the stairs and to the main entrance of the court complex. I should have had enough sense to slip out the back door, for there were several reporters hanging around, including at least one television news team, obviously waiting for Philip to appear. I spotted the reporters, but not in time. "Oh shit," I whispered to Philip, "somebody has been spreading the word. I should have expected this."

"What should I say to them?"

"You should say 'no comment', and refer them to your attorney."

He followed my advice, politely deferring any comment to his attorney. They then pounced on me with a dozen questions at once. I had been through this before. "You folks know that I cannot talk about the case," I said, "my client has entered a plea of not guilty, and we intend to set about proving him so."

They saw that they were going to receive no tidbits from us, and we got past them and down the steps. "I'm sorry about that," I said, "if I had gathered my wits properly about me I would have seen it coming and we could have slipped out the back way."

“It's all right,” he said. “I went through a lot of that for the first few days after the body was discovered."

We walked back to my office. It was nearly three o'clock by the time we got there, so I postponed the conference with Mark until first thing the next morning. I retrieved Philip's belongings from my desk, and we went down to my car. I prescribed a short nap for both of us before we did anything else, and drove us home, where we went straight to bed.

We slept for an hour or so, took a shower (together, of course), shaved and dressed in slacks and plaid shirts. "How hungry are you?" I asked.

"I don't know, a little, I guess."

"Well, I only had a small salad for lunch, so I have an advantage over you in that department. However, if you are up to it, there is someone I would like very much for you to meet. We'll make it a quick visit, and then I thought you might enjoy a truly happy place for an early dinner."

He asked me what I meant, and I told him. "Sure, that is one of my favorite spots."

"Great, but first, you have to meet Gran. Andrew said she called him Saturday

because she was worried about me, and he filled her in on where I was. I promise it will be a quick visit this time."

"Sounds like I'm being inspected. Will I pass, do you think?"

"Actually, I'm the one being inspected. Andrew says that I look like 'my old self' and he thought she ought to see that for herself. She will understand instinctively that you are responsible for the change in me, and consequently it would not matter if you were hunchbacked and had warts."

"I'm not sure what to say to that."

"Well then, don't say anything, just flow with it." We were on Peachtree, up near St. Phillip's Cathedral. Gran lived in a grand old house off of West Paces Ferry Road, but it was more easily reached by turning down one of the side streets near the Cathedral for a few blocks, and then turning North on her street. I pulled into the circular drive in front of the house, and we walked up to the front door and rang the bell.

Goodman, her butler, came to the door. "Mr. Charles, this is a surprise. Why didn't you let yourself in?"

"I just wanted to make you feel useful, Goodman."

He laughed at that - it was an old joke with us. I went on, "Goodman, this is my friend, Philip d'Autremont. Philip, this is Goodman, who has served Gran for many years."

"Any friend of Master Charles' is welcome in this house," Goodman responded. "Mrs. Barnett is in the front parlor."

"Thank you, Goodman," I replied, "We will find our way."