“Alice Connelly is back in town, ladies.”
DiNunzio groaned, and Carrier’s Delft blue eyes flared in alarm. Only Murphy cocked her head, puzzled. “Alice who?”
“Alice Connelly, my twin sister.” Bennie paused to collect her thoughts. Her heart hammered against her chest wall. Now that she’d said it, it had become real. “Everybody here except you, Murphy, will remember Alice from that case that we had. She found me-aided and abetted by my wayward father-and asked me to defend her on a murder charge. After it, she did a disappearing act, which apparently runs in my family.”
Murphy’s green eyes narrowed. Carrier was nodding, and DiNunzio bit her lower lip. Marshall eased onto the L.L. Bean box, her hand protectively on her tummy, and Bennie continued.
“Alice was given up for adoption when we were born, and I didn’t know about her until we met as adults. We’re identical-at least we look that way. I haven’t heard a word from her in two years, since I dropped her off at the train station.” Bennie flinched at the memory. She had thought about Alice in the intervening years, with more frequency than she could explain. She’d even tried to find her once, to no avail.
“I thought she’d left Philly for good, but I think she’s come back. I think she stole my wallet and ordered all this stuff to jerk my chain, like Marshall said.” Bennie’s thoughts raced ahead. Suddenly the crazy events of the past few days were making a twisted sort of sense. “There’s two of everything, get it? Twins. And I bet she made me look bad to the judges, too. She must have followed me from the office, maybe even pretended to be me in the Chinese restaurant.”
“Your twin sister would do that to you?” Murphy asked, astonished.
“This is no ordinary sister,” Mary told her. “And no ordinary twin.” She sank to the box beside a silent Marshall as Murphy shook her glossy head.
“Whoa. This is so Port Charles.”
Carrier frowned. “What do you mean, made you look bad to the judges?”
Bennie hadn’t told them yet. “Half the Eastern District bench, including Judge Sherman, who picked up St. Amien’s case, thinks I was drunk in the restaurant last night.”
“Well, were you?” Carrier asked, and DiNunzio nodded with sympathy.
“It’s no crime if you had a drink or two, Bennie. You’ve been under a lot of strain lately. You keep it all inside-”
“What?” Bennie looked at them, incredulous. “It wasn’t me. I was barely drinking. It had to have been Alice.” But if they were doubting her, everybody would. Bennie put it together, and the gravity of her predicament dawned fully. Anger bubbled like lifeblood to her cheeks. She snatched up the phone and punched in the number for information. “In the Philadelphia area, the listing for Alice Connelly, please.”
Carrier watched. “She won’t be listed.”
“I know,” Bennie said, and when she got the answer they both expected, she thanked the operator and hung up. “We have to find her. Carrier, I have to get ready for St. Amien, so can you run a computer check on Alice? I want to see if she’s back in town, and where she is. Call Lou, too.” Lou Jacobs was their veteran investigator, home recuperating from prostate surgery, and Bennie missed him. “He might have some ideas how to find her.”
Carrier nodded. “Done.”
“Good, thanks.” Bennie was fuming. It had to be okay to curse in present circumstances. She slammed a fist down on the desk, and the pencil cup jumped. “Goddamn it! She’s back!”
“Bennie, relax, want some water?” Marshall offered, rising, but Bennie waved her back onto the box.
“To make matters worse, we’re already being outgunned on St. Amien. Bill Linette beat us to the courthouse, and he claims he has the lead plaintiff.” The telephone rang on the reception desk just as Bennie was about to get seriously profane. She hit the button for the speakerphone and answered.
“Robert St. Amien here,” came the response, a musical accent over the loud speakerphone. “Answering your own telephones now, Benedetta?”
“Sure, I’m a maverick, remember?” Bennie checked her emotions. “How are you, Robert? I have you on speaker, if that’s okay.”
“It’s fine. Even better. Are your young ladies there?”
“They are.” Bennie turned to the associates. “Angels, say hi to Charlie.”
“Hi,” they all chorused.
“Good morning, ladies,” St. Amien called back. “Bennie, I’m on the mobile phone. I am calling because I have been receiving this morning several telephone calls from Mr. William Linette.”
Bull! “I know Bill. He’s another lawyer in town, who represents one of the other class members in your case. He filed a complaint against the trade association last week.” Bennie hoped it would sound like she was up to speed, even though she was struggling to play catch-up. “He called you?”
“Several times, as I say, when I didn’t return his. He caught me on the last try. He tells me that he is one of the most experienced class-action attorneys in the country and that he wishes to represent me and my company.”
The associates stood mute, and Bennie swallowed hard. She prayed to God that St. Amien didn’t leave her now. “I didn’t file our complaint until this morning, so maybe Linette didn’t know I was representing you. If he had, I’m sure he wouldn’t have called me directly.”
“No, he mentioned that he had heard I engaged you.”
Bennie laughed, and Carrier held up a silent, yet eloquent, middle finger. So Linette was trying to snake her, trying to steal a represented client. It was a move even lawyers considered low. “I’m not completely surprised. Are you?”
“Of course not.” St. Amien chuckled over the speakerphone. “Nevertheless, I told him I am already represented, by you.”
“Thank you.” Bennie would have kissed the man, but insolvency had killed her libido. “Robert, you’re about to become the most popular Frenchman in town. Lawyers will be buying you all the escargot you can eat.”
“I’m sure of it.” St. Amien chuckled again. “By the way, Mr. Linette said that there would be several other counsel and their clients-men I know-meeting in his office today, at noon. He invited you and me to this meeting. Shall we meet alone as we had planned, or shall we go to Mr. Linette’s meeting?”
“We should go to Linette’s, absolutely. We have to coordinate with the rest of the class, and I want to establish your position as lead plaintiff.” Jesus. Bennie had never seen a case move this fast. Linette was wasting no time grabbing power and running with it. She had to deal with Alice, but she couldn’t jeopardize St. Amien’s interests. “But I’m warning you, I expect there to be a tussle over the lead plaintiff. Linette filed on behalf of someone named Mayer, whom he’s touting as lead plaintiff.”
“Mayer, Herman Mayer?” St. Amien paused. “Linette did not mention this. Herman Mayer is quite vocal, a troublemaker of sorts. But he is-how do you Americans say-a piker, in comparison with me.”
“I suspected as much. And you should also know that Linette’s complaint, which I will show you, seeks damages of seventy million dollars.”
“Oh.” St. Amien paused, and the associates started whispering among themselves until Bennie hushed them. St. Amien was saying, “Mr. Linette is an optimist.”
“I think he’s nuts, but so be it. It doesn’t help the case to ask that much in damages, especially if you can’t prove it. But it gets clients. And headlines.”
“If I meet you there, I expect I’ll be pounced upon the moment I set foot.”
“Exactly.” Bennie managed a smile. “You’ll need a bodyguard, and I recommend an Amazon with messy hair. I’ll meet you downstairs in the lobby, and we’ll walk over together.”