Past Imperfect

'So, it would be true to say that your desire to convince a wider audience about the relevance of PLR has been a strong driving force behind your career to date?'

'Yes.' The first warning signs; Marinella felt the need to quickly redress the balance. 'It was the main reason I specialized so strongly in xenoglossy: use of a foreign language unknown to the main subject. Probably the strongest possible support for real regressions — particularly with young children who've had little or no opportunity to learn the language in question. This was the main reason why Dr Lambourne contacted me in the first place with the Eyran Capel case. My work with xenoglossy.'

'Eyran Capel has been a particularly large and important case for you?'

'Yes.' Unequivocaclass="underline" she'd had nothing else even nearing it.

Barielle flicked through some notes. 'But I understand that you had some relative success with a xenoglossy case a few years back. A young boy in Cincinnati. Can you tell me what happened there?'

Marinella looked sharply at Corbeix. She hadn't told him in her briefing that morning nor, she was sure, had she mentioned anything to Fornier. Then her gaze shifted to Thibault's tell-tale half smile. He quickly averted his eyes to something indicated in a folder by his assistant. Jesus, they had been digging. 'I had a paper half published, announcements prepared for a forthcoming full paper — when the boy's father pulled him from the sessions.'

'What were the reasons he gave?'

'That he didn't feel his son would benefit from continuing regressionary sessions. Was worried even that they might harm him.'

'As a result, I daresay that this was something that you would not like to have happen again: a subject being pulled away from sessions prematurely.'

'No, I suppose not.' Faint annoyance at the obviousness. 'I don't think anyone would.'

Barielle's blue eyes glared across purposefully. 'So tell me: what was the reaction of Dr Lambourne or Eyran Capel's uncle and guardian, Stuart, when you told them that the final sessions would be used to track down clues on Christian Rosselot's murder?'

Marinella's mouth suddenly went dry. She felt as if a trap door had suddenly opened. She flustered: 'Well — we just didn't know straightaway that was what we were looking for. That didn't come out till later.'

'But I understand that Chief Inspector Fornier was present at some of those final sessions?'

'Yes, but only the last one.' Suddenly the fire exit was there and she bolted for it. 'That was when he first saw the possibility of vital details coming out about the murder and decided to attend.'

'And for the other sessions?'

'I sent him transcripts and tapes.'

'So he nurtured and maintained an interest in the case throughout — but didn't reveal the purpose of that interest until the last moment?'

'Yes.' Marinella shrugged. 'I don't think he was even sure himself until the last moment.'

'I see.' Barielle was brooding, thoughtful. He didn't look satisfied. He flicked through some notes, then looked across at Corbeix. 'What do you have in your file for the date the notary Fenouillet was first contacted about travelling to London?' You might be able to find it easier than me.'

Corbeix was slightly flustered at the proceedings swinging suddenly to him. He leafed quickly through his own notes. 'Here it is. April third.'

Barielle asked the session dates in London and Corbeix flicked through more pages. Finally: 'March thirtieth, April fourth, April sixth and April the eleventh.'

'So… just before the second session. It would appear therefore that Fornier was certainly aware of the possibility after even the first of those final sessions.' Barielle turned again to Marinella Calvan. 'And Chief Inspector Fornier mentioned nothing to you at that stage about using the information to possibly further his investigation?'

Marinella changed tack, realizing that if she stuck to her guns it would reflect badly on Fornier. 'Well, nothing directly. But he certainly intimated it.'

'Intimated? Could you possibly elaborate on exactly what was and wasn't said…'

Corbeix cringed as Barielle and Calvan argued over semantics of language: was she aware that those final sessions were aiding an investigation or not? After a few moments, the most he was able to get from her was that she was made 'vaguely aware.' But certainly she didn't know for sure until the sessions were drawing to a close.

'And this 'vague awareness'. Was this at any time passed on to Dr Lambourne or Stuart Capel?'

'I might have hinted at something,' Marinella fumbled. 'I don't remember exactly. We had quite a few conversations, some elements of the case were extremely complicated, as you appreciate.'

Barielle stared impatiently at Calvan. 'It's a straightforward question, Ms Calvan. Did Lambourne or Stuart Capel know that these final sessions might aid a murder investigation?'

'Not directly.' Marinella bit back. 'How could they if at that stage I didn't even know for sure myself. As I mentioned, even Chief Inspector Fornier I don't think was totally sure until the final session.'

Barielle sighed. Calvan's ambiguity was wearing him down. The three way nature of the questioning made it all the more tedious. 'Well, thankfully we'll soon be able to ask Dr Lambourne and Stuart Capel directly if they knew. But to dispense with you for the time being, Ms Calvan: your final word is that you did not know for sure the sessions were being used to aid a murder investigation until the final session?'

'No, that's correct.'

'And for a moment presuming that you had known and had informed Dr Lambourne and Stuart Capel — what do you think would have been their reaction?'

'I'm not sure. I don't know.' But she was trembling inside: she did know, she was sure.

'Then let me suggest something: given your past experience with the Cincinnati boy, isn't it likely that your first assumption would have been that they would have pulled Eyran from the sessions prematurely — they wouldn't have agreed to continue?'

'I don't know,' Marinella flustered. 'That's purely speculative. The thought never even really…'

Barielle steamrollered over her protests, didn't even wait for the translation. '… Or certainly, even if that wouldn't have happened, that's what you would have feared. Which is why you ensured that nothing was mentioned to either Dr Lambourne or Stuart Capel. You were afraid of losing one of the largest cases of your career.'

Corbeix cradled his head in one hand as Barielle continued, now emphasizing just how big a case this was for her: speeches, book contracts, chat shows, a spot on Larry King just the other week which Barielle had viewed on videotape. Thibault's people had been busy. Very busy. Thibault had fed Barielle a particularly juicy rabbit this time, and Barielle obviously wasn't going to be satisfied until he'd stripped the last inch of flesh.

'… It has been suggested by defence counsel that the enormity of this case and your pursuit of the possible fame and fortune derived from it, has severely tainted your judgement. That if Dr Lambourne and Stuart Capel had been informed of the purpose of those final sessions, they would have never agreed to them. And by not providing such information, in effect, the final sessions with Eyran Capel were gained under false pretences. And resultantly, none of the evidence gained therein should be accepted.'

Corbeix noticed Barielle glancing at his folder. Perhaps referring to the exact text provided by Thibault. No doubt another mistrial demand.

'… And on the evidence so far before me, I'm inclined to agree. But before I conclude my decision, as I say, I will hear first from Dr Lambourne and Stuart Capel.' Barielle flicked forward a page in his folder. 'Finally, Ms Calvan — when was it that the possible potential of this case struck you? When did you start arranging lecture tours and chat shows?'