He waved his hand to keep her father silent and said gently, “I am proud that you don’t immediately dismiss the idea of bringing this man to justice. You are a smart girl.”
“I would like to press charges against him. He hurt me badly. He raped me. He isn’t normal. I wish I could be sure that other girls who are fool enough to fall for his charm and good looks won’t be hurt. He should be forced, at the very least, to have treatment.”
“Excellent, mademoiselle. I applaud what you say. It is exactly right.”
“It makes no difference,” Royce yelled. “She won’t press charges, damn you.”
Galvain ignored Royce Foxe. “As I said, mademoiselle, you are a smart girl. You show courage.” He hadn’t expected this much from her, he really hadn’t. But now he had to put a stop to it. He couldn’t let her go through with it. Perhaps, just perhaps, her bastard of a father had learned something about his daughter. But he doubted it. He said to her, his voice very gentle, “You wanted to know exactly what would happen. I will tell you the truth that is unvarnished. A trial would mean an international scandal. Your family is well-known in America and the prince’s family is equally well-known in Europe. You would be butchered by the press and in the courtroom. Your family would be harassed and hounded to a most painful extent. Your sister would possibly be charged with attempted murder if the rape charge failed to stand in court. Do you understand me, mademoiselle?”
She stared at him. He hated to see the brief flash of spirit disappear from her face. He hated to see the dullness return to her eyes.
“Please don’t misunderstand me. It would be right to press charges. I am very pleased that you want to consider it. But I also must be very honest with you. By the end of it, you would be destroyed. Your sister would be destroyed. I am truly sorry, but I cannot lie to you. It is what would happen. There is no mercy for a young girl who is unfortunate enough to find herself raped, particularly by a member of her family. Justice doesn’t serve us in these cases, unfortunately. I am very sorry for it.”
“I would have told her all that.”
Lindsay said nothing for a very long time. She looked at the floor at her feet. Finally, her face and voice expressionless, she said, “Thank you, Inspector. You’ve been kind to me. You told me the truth. I guess I should also thank you for making me face up to what he did to me even though I know if I hadn’t been so silly about him it never would have happened. I had thought only I would be attacked if I pressed charges against him, not my entire family. I had thought about it, before you came, because the prince is a horrible man, but now, now that I understand—” She stopped, shaking her head.
She walked slowly from the room, her last words hanging sadly in the air, the belt of her robe dragging on the floor. Galvain stared after her, feeling such pain he doubted he would ever forget.
Royce was pleased. He smiled after his daughter, then turned to smile his triumph at the inspector. “Are you now quite through with us?”
“Oh, yes, quite. But the paparazzi will be very busy. They are like the rutting little pigs, are they not? You have already read the papers and seen the television. I would recommend that you take your daughters and leave Paris as soon as possible. Flee the arena, as it were.”
“I would agree. However, the prince’s family is here, in seclusion now, of course. They’ve had the prince moved to a private hospital outside Paris, and the place is guarded like a fort. But I can’t be sure they’ll keep their mouths closed. His mother has informed me, the patronizing bitch, that she is displeased with Sydney. Imagine, she’s blaming Sydney! I must remain and guard my daughter’s reputation, her interests, see that they don’t try to harm her through the press.” Royce raked his fingers through his hair, and for a moment he looked vulnerable and overwhelmed. “Tell me, Inspector, what am I to do about the damned bastard?”
“You ask me, monsieur? Well, then, I will tell you. I would secure another gun and shoot his balls off.”
Galvain gave Royce a small salute and left the suite.
5
PRESENT: New York City
Taylor
Taylor ran into the emergency room, pale and looking more terrified than a man should ever look.
The head emergency room nurse, Ann Hollis, was sixty, tough, and more seasoned than a four-star general. She saw the man coming toward her, saw his fear, and readied herself for the outbreak. Screaming, raw and impotent anger, outward fury, the rage brought on by the helplessness of it all. To her utter surprise, when he spoke, his voice was calm and low.
“I would appreciate your help—” He looked at her name tag. “Yes, Ms. Hollis. Lindsay or Eden is her name. I understand there was some sort of accident and she was hurt and now she’s here, being treated. I’m her fiancé. Please tell me what’s going on. This is very difficult.”
And Ann Hollis responded to him with the truth. “I will tell you what I know. First of all, stop worrying. You stay here and I’ll go check and find out exactly what’s happening. All right?”
Taylor nodded and she left him. He didn’t move. He waited, knowing that everything that mattered to him, everything that was deeply inside of him, deeply a part of him, hung in the balance.
Nurse Hollis touched his arm. “Two broken ribs, a collapsed left lung, which they’re reinflating.”
“How’s that done?”
“A small incision between two ribs and a tube is inserted that’s in turn connected to a lung machine. It makes breathing easier for her.”
“Thank you.”
“Contusions and lacerations, but those aren’t all that bad.” Ann Hollis paused, then drew a deep breath. “Then there’s her face.” Again she touched her hand to his arm. “It’s impossible to say right now because Dr. Perry has just gotten to her. He’s got examinations to make. He’s got to get CT scans before he can make a determination.”
“What exactly happened to her face?”
“It was badly smashed.”
He flinched from the baldness of the image that word brought to his mind, but nonetheless he was grateful to her.
“However, Dr. Perry is one of the best reconstructive surgeons in New York City. He probably won’t wait to operate. There’s the problem of swelling, you know.”
Taylor didn’t say anything. He was trying not to shake. Nurse Hollis patted his arm again. Touch was very important, she knew that, it comforted, it reassured, it gave human connection and warmth. With a touch, the other person was no longer alone.
“As soon as I can find out any more, I’ll call you. Please go sit down. I know it’s hard, but you must try to stay calm. She won’t die. Her face will heal. As I said, Dr. Perry is one of the best in facial reconstruction.”
“Thank you, Ms. Hollis.”
She watched him walk slowly away from her. She’d seen the young woman’s face. They hadn’t cleaned it yet, and there was nothing but dried blood and bits of bone and matted blood-dried hair. Yes, it would be difficult to be beautiful when your face was smashed.
Taylor felt the weight of helplessness. And suddenly he remembered how he’d failed her in Paris, the crying young girl who didn’t understand what was happening to her, the young girl who’d been raped so brutally, struck repeatedly, and yet she was at a hospital but the hurt was continuing and she was unable to grasp any of it. And he’d been unable to help her. Just as he’d not helped her this time either.