Night Magic (24 page)

"And you can bet that if she wasn't happy
with the way this case is being handled, you'd have heard about
it."

"Good morning." Simmons opened his briefcase
with a loud snap after twirling the combination locks. Without
comment, the tall red-haired attorney from the Dallas office
location of the Department of Environmental Protection got right to
work.

"Good morning." Gralin began passing him
sheets of paper. Savannah smiled at the way the northerner skipped
the southern custom of exchanging niceties before business.

"I think we will be wrapping up the first
phase soon. We've got three witnesses left to call. I saved the
most powerful, in terms of the impact I think their testimony will
have, for the end of this part. We will need it to counteract their
star witness... Paul Honorè." Simmons read his name from a note-pad
in front of him.

"Do you really think his testimony is that
critical?" Savannah shifted a little uncomfortably in the hardwood
chair next to Gralin.

"He's done a pretty thorough assessment, he's
got great credentials, a lot of experience, and he's
African-American. What do you think?"

"Gentlemen, Ms. St. Julien." Devin strolled
in, the picture of relaxed confidence. His smile for Savannah
seemed to hint at a special intimacy between them. He turned to
follow her gaze.

"Hi," Savannah answered curtly, acutely aware
that Paul had entered the court room and was headed their way.

"I hope we can get
together
again
before I leave. The other night was like old times. Oh hello,
Honorè. Let me just review a few points with you for
clarification." Devin drew him aside.

Savannah tried to focus on the conversation
between Gralin and Simmons. Finally she gave in to the irresistible
urge to look over her shoulder. Paul was listening to Devin, even
answering his questions, yet his eyes were on her. From the set of
his jaw, she had no doubt that he had heard Devin's well-timed
comment. When he didn't return the small wave she gave him, a tiny
flutter of anxiety started in the pit of her stomach. As the judge
entered, Savannah and Gralin moved to sit directly behind Simmons
in the spectator section. Watching him from the corner of her eye,
Savannah tried to convince herself that the grim expression Paul
wore was nervousness about his testimony. For three hours or more,
Devin led a defense witnesses through a meticulous description of
the procedures used by the plant to assure all hazardous wastes and
the aggregate meet regulations. A chemist employed by Batton
Chemical, began to wind up his explanation of the production
procedures before the aggregate leaves the plant.

"So, Mr. Fielding, this
material is put through
five
separate tests?" Devin, one hand resting on the
wooden rail surrounding the jury box, scanned their faces before
turning back to the chemist.

"Yes, including certification from an
independent laboratory," Fielding said.

"Thank you, sir. No more questions for this
witness. I would like to call Mr. Paul Honorè to the stand, your
honor." Devin went back to consult his notes while Paul was being
sworn in by the bailiff.

Devin had Paul describe his qualifications,
educational background, and experience to establish him as an
expert witness."Now, Mr. Honorè, what were your findings?"

"I found the procedures being used to be in
compliance with industry standards. All state and federal
guidelines have been met."

"Did you identify any areas that needed
improvement?"

"Yes. Mr. Singleton and Mr. Trosclair
followed each of my recommendations for improvements." Paul
gestured past Devin.

Savannah was surprised to find that both were
seated across the aisle from her. For the first time in years, she
was seeing Claude Trosclair up close. He was the same, immaculately
dressed and composed. He favored her with a gracious smile, as if
to say there was no reason they could not be cordial even if they
were opponents. Not to be outdone, Savannah returned his
greeting.

"What has hampered their attempts to meet all
of these regulations?"

"Some of the state regs conflict with the
federal regs. At one point the state officials with the Department
of Environmental Quality disagreed with the feds on the permit
procedures."

"Thank you, Mr. Honorè, please sum up your
conclusions for the court." Devin stopped halfway to his seat to
face Paul again.

"Mr. Trosclair and Mr. Singleton have worked
closely with their staff to insure that the aggregate is treated
correctly. The findings in other sites where it has been used
suggests that the product is safe for certain uses."

"Thank you very much." Devin sat down with a
self-satisfied grin.

Simmons handled his redirection skillfully
forcing Paul to admit that no long-term studies on environmental
impact had been done, therefore the full effects of the aggregate
not known. Still, Paul's testimony had been effective. He appeared
calm and confident in his findings. Savannah fidgeted for the next
hour, impatient for court to be adjourned for the day. Simmons
called the first of his witnesses, a metallurgical engineer. Anyone
observing her would have sworn she was intent upon the technical
detail being provided by the witness. But Savannah's thoughts were
across the aisle. Glancing sideways several times she noted how
chummy Paul seemed to be with Trosclair.

"Your gentleman friend seems to genuinely
believe that Trosclair has the community welfare in mind. I was
watching the faces of the jurors, especially the Black ones. He
made some good points." Gralin leaned close to whisper softly.

Savannah nodded still looking ahead. She had
to admit he was right. What she couldn't understand was why. Why
was he so intent on painting a picture of Trosclair as concerned
citizen?

"We can only hope the folks who have lived in
these parts for a while remember some of the misdeeds he's
committed over the years." Gralin sat back.

Leaving the court room, Savannah started
towards Paul then hesitated when she realized he was standing
between Trosclair and Singleton. They began walking out together.
Savannah moved quickly to catch them.

"Excuse me, hello." Savannah gave a curt
greeting to the other two men." Paul, may I speak to you a moment?"
she said in a low tight voice. Savannah tried to will him away from
the others. If only they had time to talk.

"Ms. St. Julien isn't it? How nice to finally
meet you. My but I haven't seen you since you were little girl. Now
you're a respected attorney I understand." Claude, suave as ever,
intercepted her attempt to move Paul away from them.

"Yes, thank you. Paul, please. It will only
take a second." Savannah's voice was desperate. Out of the corner
of her eye she could see Devin striding in their direction.
Stubbornly, Paul made not the slightest move to follow her.

"Ah, Martin. Doing a fantastic job. No
disrespect, Miss." Singleton gave Devin a bone shaking slap on the
back.

"Yes." Devin gave him a tiny condescending
smile. "I didn't do it alone though. Honorè here was a very
effective witness today. Why hello, Savannah." Devin stepped close
to her.

"Paul and I--" Savannah put a hand on Paul's
arm. Dread for the inevitable scene filled her. She had to have
time alone to explain.

"And your statements about how Mr. Trosclair
has personally involved himself in making sure all standards are
met, well it was priceless." Devin beamed at Paul.

"Thank you." Paul stared at some distant
point just over Devin's shoulder.

"How've you been, sweet. Let's have dinner
later. Mr. Trosclair told me about this wonderful restaurant in
Lafayette right on Bayou Vermillion. It's called Le Maison des
Amis, pick you up around six?" Devin gave the impression that they
had all but planned to see each other regularly while he was in
town.

"No, Devin. Paul and I planned--" Savannah
shot an anxious glance at Paul. She shrank back at bitter glint his
eyes as he turned on her.

"No we don't." Paul cut her off. "You're free
to do whatever you like."

"Could I speak to you privately please,
excuse us." Savannah fought to control her temper. He followed
outside. They stood away from the crowd behind one of the large
white columns that stood so imposingly at the courtroom
entrance.

"What is it?" Paul would not look at her.

"Look, Devin and I had dinner once. Hard as I
tried, I couldn't get him to talk about the case very much. He made
some lame excuses for the way he treated me at the firm, and then
took me home."

"Your place or his?"

"Mine damn it. What is your problem?"
Savannah forced him to look at her.

"My problem? You went behind my back while I
was out of town, that's my problem. If there was nothing to it, why
then? And why go to some out of way place?"

"I only wanted to get a hint at his strategy,
that's all there was to it." Savannah looked away. She searched for
a way to justify not telling him about having dinner with
Devin.

"Uh-hum, I notice you didn't answer my
questions. Just to get information. huh? Real cool little number,
switching your attention to whomever whenever it suits your
purpose. Okay, so maybe you were only trying to milk him for
information. Maybe that's what you've been doing with me, too."
Paul's voice was hoarse with emotion.

"Just who the hell do you think you are
talking to me like this!" Savannah faced him, feet planted
apart.Her anger returned full force. His accusation cut her like a
knife. How could he say such a thing to her? First his fawning,
self-serving testimony to help Trosclair and now implying she had
prostituted herself to get information from him. Once again,
someone she let get too close turned on her. The image of a warm,
caring man she wanted to have in her life vanished. In it's place,
Savannah saw a calculating man thwarted in his attempts to enrich
himself at the expense of others.

"The way you were coaching me on how to
testify. Did you go back and tell Martin which weak spot to go for
once I got on the stand? I can't believe I fell for it."

"Well excuse me for not being a Batton
Chemical fan like you. Of course, I don't have a lucrative contract
hanging in the balance."

"I am sick of you insulting my integrity.
Especially considering the stunt you pulled with Devin. At least
you've always known where I stood." Paul gripped her forearm.

"Sure, we all knew. Sell out the poor Black
folks; sure let them die of toxic poison. What do you care? You'll
get your money and move on. Take your hands off me." Savannah
snatched her arm free.

"Let me tell you something--" Paul hissed,
his voice shook with outrage.

"No, let me tell you something. You can go to
hell!" Savannah stepped away from him. "If I never see your sorry
ass again, it will be one day too soon!"

Chapter 10

Savannah stood at the front counter staring
out at the beautiful late March morning. Sunshine cast a lovely
yellow wash over the scene. Tiny sparrows whirled in and out of
tree branches, their air ballet given a perfect back drop by the
blue sky with its fluffy white clouds. This was the kind of day
that could usually bring her out of the darkest frame of mind. But
for the last two hours the beauty before her had no effect. It had
been three weeks since that awful fight with Paul. They had spoken
only once two days later. There was still bitter metallic taste in
her mouth from the cold words they had exchanged.

"I think we've said all we should say to each
other." Savannah had cut off his hello on the phone before he could
finish his sentence.

"I was only calling to say I left some of
your things at your house. Your aunt was home." Paul had spoken
with a clipped tone.

"Fine." Savannah replaced the receiver with a
firm bang.

Those words had been in her head since then.
Though she had constantly told herself that she was right, that
thought did nothing to make her feel better.

"Maybe some music will help."

Savannah switched to a classical music
station. She was taking no chances on hearing a mournful love song
to plunge her deeper into depression. The soft strains of a
Tchaikovsky piano concerto lulled her as she moved around the shop.
A sudden swell of violins made her pause. Savannah became lost in
the music, full and passionate. Closing her eyes, she could smell
Paul's skin fresh with soap just from a hot shower. She could hear
the rich deep dulcet tones of his laugh and see him tilt his
handsome head to one side. Savannah could feel the heat of his
flesh press hard against hers, the steady thrumming of her heart as
its pace quicken with their lovemaking. At the sound of the bell
over the shop door her eyes flew open. With extreme effort she
composed herself before making her way to the front again. Hastily
she wiped a light sheen of perspiration from her brow. Could it be?
No, it wasn’t. She tried to arrange her face so that he could not
see the deep disappointment she felt, a disappointment that stabbed
through her body like jagged glass. With great effort, she forced
her lips to stretch into a tight smile.

"Oh. Hi, Gralin," Savannah said. The meager
attempt faded all too quickly.

"Hello. I know you've been busy here at the
shop so I just dropped by to let you know that the trial is going
well for us."

"That's good," Savannah said.

"Simmons has done a fine job lining up
witnesses. I think we have a shot at winning. And to tell you the
truth, I had my doubts when we started."

"That really is nice."

"It’s great, believe me. I even hear that the
Justice Department is going to conduct a national survey of
chemical plant and waste sites to see if there is something to the
charge of environmental racism. They want to see if there's a
pattern of how sites in minority communities are selected."