The cameramen and photographers egged her on, but Donovan's patience just snapped. He rushed forward, making his way through the assembled press and grabbed Justine Lavoie by her arm. “Good day, Miss Lavoie. If you would be so kind as to follow us into the courthouse. Can't keep the judge waiting.” He just pushed her. The topless man tried to ward him off, but he was able to bully the girl toward the main door. In the short, close-up observation, he had already noticed she had no pupil in her eye, and he already began wondering whether he should not just let it happen. Maybe he should let her make a fool out of herself, mess things up in the court and be convicted to mandatory rehab. Maybe the conviction would steer her away from what seemed like her looming demise and maybe even a membership to the 27 Club.
The whole thing should have been a routine affair. An appearance before the bench and a quick decision. Most of the minor offenses were dealt with in that manner. You were given a number, called before the bench, told your story in a few minutes, the clerk would read the police report and then the judge would pass a ruling. You could then accept the verdict or decide to take it higher, demanding trial by jury. Or you could simply make things worse by showing contempt of court.
It should have been easy, and Donovan hoped it would be, though, as the situation unfolded before him, he feared it would not be. Naomh Walsh did not show what she was thinking, but her objective was not getting Justine Lavoie off or getting her the best suitable arrangement. Her job was to make sure the girl got publicity, preferably good publicity, of course. But publicity was the name of the game. The only thing she seemed to be afraid of was that her client's behavior would appear so deranged that she would end up generating too much negative publicity, to the detriment of her record and ticket sales.
Neither one of them had control over the situation, and neither one was willing to admit to the fact. With so much press there, this was a show entirely devoted to Justine Lavoie and her whims. The moment their number was called Justine Lavoie jumped up and trotted toward the bench. She took off her short fur jacket and bowed to the judge. There weren’t supposed to be any cameras in the courtroom, but there were some anyway. Various people present in the room pulled out their cell phones and took snapshots. Several paparazzi had managed to sneak in past the security and even a camera crew from the news station had managed to get in.
“Miss Lavoie, will you please cover yourself up?” the judge began, quite shocked.
Justine held her hands before her breasts. The judge looked at Donovan. “Counselor?”
Donovan shrugged. He did not know how to deal with the girl. He took her jacket and placed it around her shoulders. At least it covered up something. Apart from covering her shoulders, it covered the large, elaborate tattoo of a soaring eagle with a bloody beak and claws she had tattooed on her back and shoulders. It looked odd on a little girl like this. But then, she was hardly an innocent little girl.
The judge shook his head read the charge. “The State of New York against Justine Aoibhe Maria Lavoie. On the charge of driving under influence of alcohol, how do you plea?”
“Fuck you,” Justine Lavoie answered before Donovan could open his mouth.
“Pardon me?” the judge said. “I’m not sure I heard you correctly.”
“I said...” the girl gathered her breath and screamed the next words, “Fuck you!”
The judge's face paled. He was used to a lot, but he could not let this go. “Counselor. Please control your client, or I will also hold her in contempt of the court.”
“Yes, your honor.” Donovan answered quickly. Justine Lavoie turned to him and looked at him, licking her lips. “I'll fuck you too, you know. Pay him off with my pussy and you can take my ass.” She turned away from him again, lifted the poor excuse for a skirt and began grinding into him. Naomh stepped in and pulled her away.
“Oh, you want him in your ass instead? I'll share; you know, I'm not picky.”
“Miss Lavoie!” the judge roared. “This is a courthouse, not a brothel. If you cannot keep from exposing yourself and behaving indecently, I will find you guilty of the charges, add contempt of the court and have you locked up immediately!” The old man looked furious. And rightly too, Donovan thought. There was no excuse for this. The girl was completely deranged. “Can I approach the bench, your honor?” he asked quickly. The judge nodded.
As Donovan approached, he already knew he had made a mistake. He had wanted to talk to the judge and ask whether he could spare her any harsh sentence, forcing her to take rehab instead, but that plan was not going to fly. For the moment he approached, Justine Lavoie dropped onto her back and began touching herself. “See, I'll pay you off? I'll give you as much as you want,” she proposed to the judge.
Not five minutes later, she had been taken to the jail at the back of the courthouse. There was nothing Donovan could do about it. He calmly heard the judge say she had defiled the courtroom and shown utter contempt for the court, on top of the charges already filed against her. He ordered the officers to take blood for drug testing and to hold her in the cells until the results came back. Donovan could only agree. He wanted to ask for bail, but he knew it was futile right now.
When he walked out of the courtroom, Naomh Walsh was already outside, making calls. Journalists were talking to camera teams, phoning their offices or speaking into recorders. The whole scene was beyond chaotic. And Naomh Walsh was in full damage control mode. For himself, the damage had been done. He could do little other than wait for the judge to call him back and talk about bail. He sat down on the wooden bench outside the courtroom and closed his eyes.
Two hours passed before he was called in to hear the final ruling. The results of the blood test had come back and they did not look good. It seemed Justine Lavoie had recently taken nearly everything she could have gotten her hands on. Uppers and downers, legal and illegal. She was a walking pharmacy, as the judge put it. He hesitated not a moment. He gave her a fine for the drunk driving, but ordered Justine Aoibhe Maria Lavoie to go into rehab. Donovan accepted the verdict in her place. She was not there, having passed out in the cell.
Outside, Donovan found the topless man, whom he knew was one of Justine’s bodyguards, even if she did use him for other things too. He told him to bring the girl back into the limousine and take her home. He looked around and saw Naomh Walsh still making calls. He would probably not see her again, not any time soon, and he felt he should say goodbye. But she was busy and he had to get back to his office on the other side of town. Instead, he began the long walk several blocks north to his office and back to saner legal work.
Chapter Nine
Albert walked into Donovan’s midtown office, where he was in the library, looking through several decades of history of land ownership for Gregoris Sedakis. The case actually looked pretty clear-cut. The land did seem to have belonged to the Lang family, but the ownership was pretty much neglected since the deal was agreed between their grandfather and the corporation. It seemed pretty much as Sedakis had said.
He did not know why he was still researching it, because the claimant in the case was dead, but he just felt compelled to keep looking. He could not explain why, but he did.
“Need a word,” Albert said gruffly.
“What about?”
“The two corpses connected to you.”
Donovan looked up with a sigh. “What now?”
“First of all,” Albert came into the library. “They were paralyzed with drugs and then cut up while still alive.” Donovan looked down again. He did not want to show how horrified he was with that knowledge. “Second, there's no recent trace of any other sibling.”