Stuart took out his wallet and fished out a card. 'That's my work number in London.'
Dominic took it and tucked it into his own wallet. When Dominic had mentioned the meeting at Taragnon to Monique, he'd left a long pause after. He hadn't wanted to ask directly if she wanted to go: insensitive. But she'd just bit her lip and looked away. Her curiosity obviously didn't go that far. It could have been Taragnon, or what memories the boy might stir. 'How many sessions left now?' Dominic asked. Stuart had earlier mentioned them winding down.
'Only three more, then that should be it.'
Dominic smiled at Eyran. Coy smile in return, hesitant. Stuart said that he'd improved a lot, but he was probably anxious now about testifying, thought Dominic. 'Don't worry, the magistrate's quite tame really. They feed him fresh bananas and nuts every hour.' Wider smile in response from Eyran, all reservation gone. The boy looked well. At least one good thing to have come out of the whole mess. 'Just remember that he was also eleven once, and you'll be fine.'
Stuart too smiled and nodded. Appreciative of the brief pep comment. 'There was a bit of disagreement between Lambourne and Marinella Calvan about the root cause of Eyran's problem. But in the end it appears Calvan's theory was right: Eyran's accident and period of coma linked to that previous period of coma, opened up the past.' '…Until the events that led up to that previous coma are fully confronted and exorcised, Eyran can't start getting to grips with the problems from his own life. Facing and tackling his own grief.' But the recall reminded Stuart of the calamity that had just been wrought due to Calvan. 'Shame about what just happened with her. Nice lady — I like her. I'm sure she meant well.'
'I'm sure she did.' Feisty, well-meaning Marinella Calvan. One woman with a PLR banner against a world of disbelievers. Her cause was obviously far grander and nobler than his. All he'd wanted was to find justice for a ten year old boy.
Dominic shook off his anger quickly; she wasn't to know the lengths that Thibault and his henchmen would go to. Just another in a long chain of calamities. Though they'd scraped through the last hearing, Corbeix had admitted what had caused one of the main stumbling blocks: his illness. They'd been kidding themselves all along, Dominic mused: the lost voice of a ten year old boy on tape, an ageing detective trying to prove one last big case before late retirement — a case that had haunted him through three decades — and a half-crippled Prosecutor. Up against one of the top Paris law firms and a leading politician. They'd never even had a chance.
Corbeix felt the cramps bite deeper as he saw the case slipping away. But he felt powerless as he watched Barielle question Lambourne. Nothing left to do but to sit and nurse his painful legs.
'… So, to re-cap: at no point were you informed by Ms Calvan that information from the sessions might be used for a murder investigation?'
'No, I was not.'
'We have heard earlier from Doctor Calvan that in fact this was intimated or suggested by her. Was even this perhaps done?'
'No. I don't remember any such sort of suggestion.'
Lambourne had made it patently clear that he wasn't aware, with some earlier displays of annoyance: other objectives put before his clients interests he considered a serious ethical breach. His patient's progress could have been adversely affected.
Recalling the comment, Corbeix saw a last minute chance to fight back. His leg muscles protested as he rose. A few minutes back and forth with Barielle, and the questions were posed:
'As Prosecutor Corbeix has suggested, Dr Lambourne, in regard to your comment about the possible adverse affects to your patient: is it not true that this tactic of getting Eyran Capel to face events surrounding this past life murder finally led to a breakthrough in his treatment?'
'Yes, it did.' Reluctant admission. 'Though I think this might have been more by good fortune than design.'
'You were also, I believe, clearly informed that Inspector Fornier and a notary would be present for one of the final sessions.'
'Yes, but I was told that this was purely for 'filing' of possible additional information about the murder.'
'Did it at no time occur to you that this 'filing' might have also included a re-investigation of the murder?'
'No, I'm afraid it didn't.'
But Lambourne's final tone had been lame, tentative, thought Corbeix. A couple of weak strikes back, but Corbeix doubted it would be enough. Lambourne was dismissed and Stuart Capel called.
As Corbeix watched Stuart Capel go through the preliminaries of his name, age and relationship with Eyran Capel — his earlier sense of hopelessness settled deeper. Barielle would ask Capel if he'd been aware that the final sessions were aiding a murder investigation — and Capel would say he hadn't. Corbeix would raise a few small points and objections, but would it make any difference? He doubted it. They'd been lucky to scrape through the last hearing, and Barielle had warned that if any such circumstance arose again…
'… You and your wife were given charge of your brother's son as godparents, is that correct?'
'Yes, it is.'
'And at what point did you become aware that Eyran might be mentally disturbed and need treatment?'
'About two to three weeks after I took him out of the hospital in California.' The questions brought back the memories. Vapoured breath on mist air as Jeremy was lowered into the ground. The first bad dreams. Racing upstairs as he heard Eyran screaming.
'The first indication that the boy might be disturbed I understand was because of a series of dreams. Is that correct?'
'Yes, it was.'
'And as a result of the disturbing nature of those dreams, you finally entered the boy into sessions with Dr Lambourne?'
'Yes. Dr Lambourne had been recommended by Eyran's surgeon in California. Dr Torrens.' Christmas in Oceanside, just him and Eyran. Taco dips and Turkey. Distant, hesitant looks. The first moment it struck him: this isn't the Eyran I remember!
Barielle made quick work of the reasons Calvan was finally called in, the switch over from conventional to regressionary therapy. This was ground he'd already covered in detail with Lambourne and Calvan.
But at the mention of her name, Stuart thought: She'd come up with the main theory for the breakthrough with Eyran, brought back the Eyran he remembered, and yet now…'
'… There were two stages to the sessions with Calvan, I understand,' Barielle confirmed. 'The first was just general exploratory. But in the second, coming just over a week later, Dr Calvan apparently proposed a theory that she thought might help Eyran's progress?'
'Yes, she did.' And she was right, thought Stuart. Her theory had worked. And now they wanted him to betray her… plunge home the final knife!
'And as those final sessions were approached — did Doctor Calvan at any time make you aware that they might be used to further a murder investigation?'
But all Stuart could think of was Calvan's expression as she'd come out of the courtroom. Fornier crestfallen as she told him. Betrayal. It was wrong. He fumbled hesitantly. 'I'm not sure. I believe she did.'
Thibault looked up sharply, adjusted his steel-rimmed glasses and squinted. Barielle stared at him intently. Doubt, disbelief.
'Are you sure about this, Mr Capel? This is quite a crucial point.'
Fornier looking despondently at the floor. The distant, hopeful light he'd seen in Fornier's eye earlier in the wheat field suddenly gone. Defeat. Sat now on a bench in the coolness of the corridor next to Eyran. Two survivors. The last fleeting image before he'd entered the hearing room. More confidently: 'Yes, I'm quite certain. She mentioned it at the outset of those final sessions.'