Chapter 5: Conspiracy
Sara sat quietly in a corner of the jail cell, ignoring the other people around her as she waited for Charles to come and get her.
She didn't understand. She was innocent. How could they do this to her? Richard's blood hadn't been on the sword they found at his house, and her own, she knew, was safely back at the mansion, in Betsy's sword box. They had been polishing their swords a couple days ago and hadn't had a chance to finish the task, so she'd put hers with Betsy's and run off. It was a sure bet they hadn't found it, and anyway, Chang had his own ideas about strangers touching him and his own ways of hiding.
Maybe they'd found the sword she had been given by Koven! The thought startled her. It was possible. She didn't know what had happened to that sword. Perhaps it had been left there, and they'd found her fingerprints on it…wait. She'd worn gloves, because the grip hadn't been well made and it abraded her hands. The gloves, and the rest of the outfit she had worn as Deathstar, had been promptly discarded back at the mansion.
"Michaels," said a gruff voice, and she looked up, to see Capalletti opening the door for her. She rose from her position on the hard bench and walked out, following him down the hall. She didn't expect to see an interrogation room.
"In," he said curtly, and she stepped in with a rising sense of dread, her mind hurriedly trying to come up with alibis. She couldn't tell him the truth; Charles had already warned her not to speak of the Shi'ar in front of others. Her stomach knotted in fear as she sat in the chair he'd indicated.
"We found a sword in a warehouse down on Canal Street," he said bluntly. "And we found your husband's blood splattered all over it. We also found his coat. In the pocket of that coat was a piece of paper with your name and the amount of fifty thousand dollars written on it. What was he doing in that warehouse, Ms. Michaels?"
"I don't know," Sara said, her stomach constricting.
He shoved a photograph in front of her' Richard's coat, bloodstained, lying on the top step of that remembered warehouse. The sight of the blood made her stomach lurch, and she pressed a hand to her mouth, feeling as if she was about to throw up. "I'm going to…please…" she whispered. He sat there as her shoulders heaved, and then she couldn't help it anymore. She threw up. He cursed in anger as it splattered the table, her clothes, and her hands, some of it getting on him in the process. She didn't notice, her shoulders heaving as she retched, and retched, and retched. When she finally stopped heaving, she was covered in her own vomit and huddled on the floor beside the table.
Capalletti grabbed her arm and hauled her upright back into her chair. She stumbled dizzily back into it, grimacing at the awful taste in her mouth. "What the hell's wrong with you!?" he snapped at her.
"I'm pregnant," she gasped. "My medicine's wearing off. I need more. Please," she gasped, then doubled over with dry heaves.
He looked at her. "That's it, then," he said, "You're pregnant with his baby, and he wanted to talk to you about it! You probably wanted an abortion or something, and he was trying to pay you off to keep it and give it to him!"
"No," she mumbled, but he wasn't listening.
"You lured him to that warehouse, so you and your boyfriend could kill him! I've seen the pictures of you and that guy in the tabloids, he looks strong enough to crush someone's throat in his fist! Is that what you did, Ms. Michaels?"
She tried to focus on what he was saying, but the room was spinning, and then everything went black.
"Here," came a voice from the darkness, "drink this." Sara sipped at the water cup held in front of her, desperately hoping it would stay down. It didn't. She threw up again, adding to the noxious mixture already on her clothes. She desperately wanted her medicine so she would stop feeling so sick inside, but it didn't look like she was going home anytime soon. She opened her eyes and blinked, trying to stop the room from spinning.
A woman was in front of her, someone obviously in lockup just like her, and Sara vaguely remembered she had been put in the cell for loitering and prostitution. "Girl, you look a mess," she said to Sara, putting the cup of water down and helping her sit up. "They don't like you, do they? They just tossed you in here like this."
"They think I murdered my ex-husband," Sara mumbled as she sat down again on the bench. "I didn't."
"Yeah, same as all the rest in here," she said, snapping her gum so loudly Sara's head hurt. "Lie down and get some rest, okay?" Sara drifted off into unconsciousness.
The woman, Gloria, kicked the bars of the cell and shouted, "Hey! Any of you cops out there here me? Got a sick woman in here!"
One man came over, took a look, and said, "It's Capalletti's case. He said to leave her." He wandered off, and no amount of shouting would bring anyone back. She walked out of the cell when her time was up, casting one glance at the unconscious woman in the corner.
Roughly an hour later two well-dressed men, one walking, one sitting in a wheelchair being pushed by a tall handsome brown-haired man came into the cellblock. A shorter, dark-haired man and a tall gorgeous red-haired woman accompanied them. The duty officer who led them in opened the door, and Logan sprang into the tiny cell, his attention focused on the limp woman. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of vomit.
Xavier turned to the officer on duty. "This is monstrous," he snapped. "She's pregnant, and she gets sick. Didn't anyone offer her something to throw up in, or something for her to clean herself up with?"
The officer looked uncomfortable. "Uh, she's Capalletti's suspect, sir, and he hates it when people mess with his suspects. We all try to steer clear of his temper."
Logan snapped, "Tell me where he is, an' I'll show him temper!" But Xavier silenced him with a look, and he went back to Sara's side, holding her.
Capalletti showed up just then, and he and Xavier's lawyer walked away, talking at a great rate. The X-Men stayed with Sara until the lawyer came back. "There's a bail hearing tomorrow," he said. "There's nothing we can do for her until then."
Xavier said, "At least we can bring some fresh clothes and the medicine she needs to keep herself from getting sick," he pleaded with Capalletti.
Capalletti sneered. "Clothes yes, but no medicine. How do I know she's not going to poison herself before we can get her to trial?"
"She needs it," Jean said, desperately, but the man was adamant.
Logan left and came back shortly with another change of clothing. Capalletti allowed her to step into the bathroom to change, and she took the opportunity to wash her hands and face. She felt much better when she came out, and tried to put on a brave face when they were forced to leave.
She didn't even try to eat the breakfast she was offered the next morning, knowing she was just going to throw it all up again. So when she finally did come up in front of the judge at her bail hearing she was looking pale, and her stomach was tight from hunger, and her head whirled. She acknowledged Xavier and Logan's presence with a brief nod,, and tried to focus on what was being said.
"Not guilty," She whispered when the judge asked her for her plea.
"Your honor, the defendant is charged with first degree murder," said the prosecutor. "We ask that she be remanded to custody without bail."
"There has been no proof," Sara's lawyer returned. "The police found a sword at the second crime scene with the victim's blood on it. My client's fingerprints weren't on it, and they have nothing against her except the fact that she is a practitioner of the martial arts and she has no alibi for the night in question."
Judge Rigatti tapped his gavel. "Bail is set at one million dollars," he said.
Sara gasped aloud in shock, and she stood, unmindful of the hand her lawyer placed on her arm. "No!" she exclaimed, in tears, "No, judge, please, I want to go home! I didn't do it, please, I didn't do it, I swear I didn't!" She crumpled into her chair, crying in anguish. The judge watched, stony-faced, then signaled to the bailiff to remove the sobbing woman. Xavier and Logan let themselves out, dazed at the verdict.
Logan sat in the dim, smoky bar, ignoring the other patrons, intent on drinking himself into a stupor; not an easy task, with his healing factor. The morning's events had stunned them all. He had been told they would be transferring her to Riker's Island that day, and they could visit her there the next morning. It hurt, to think of his beloved in that jail where she didn't belong, with a lot of other people who did belong in there. He couldn't even imagine how she was feeling.
Probably much the same way he was feeling. He was confused. There wasn't enough evidence to indict her, much less have such a high bail set for her. Her lawyer was even taken aback. Things were happening way too fast, on too little evidence. Even the newspapers had commented on the apparent speed and incompleteness of the whole proceeding.
Someone slid into the booth across from him, and Logan looked up, about to snarl in anger at the intruder, but the sound died on his lips. His visitor was tall, muscular, dark-haired, dressed in nondescript black clothing…and very familiar.
"Whatcha doin' here, Frank?" Logan returned his attention to his glass, his words slurring a little. "If it's Sara yer after, I'll tell ya right now; she didn' do it, an' anyone who says otherwise is gonna haveta face me."
Frank Castle, aka the Punisher, took Logan's glass away for a second. "Logan, listen to me. I know your girl didn't do it. She's being railroaded. Did she ever tell you her ex-husband was a member of the Mafia?"
The drunken fog in Logan's head cleared as if Storm had waved it away. "Yeah, I think she mentioned it once or twice."
"Richard Ryan's name used to be Rianetti; the judge's name is Rigatti, the prosecutor's name is Feratoni, her arresting officer's name is Capalletti. Does that make any sense?"
"They're all Italian," Logan said with dawning comprehension.
"Yeah," Castle said grimly. "Feratoni served in the army. He was passed over for a promotion in favor of a guy named Michaels, because Michaels got his rich heiress daughter to marry the son of the guy giving out the promotions, Rianetti. Capalletti's sister married the guy who owns Draconi Inc., a minor scientific lab out in California. Draconi just had a contract cancelled that they had signed with a struggling corporation called Meredith Enterprises. They weren't planning to honor the contract anyway, which is why I suspect that your girl cancelled it. But it's the fact that she cancelled it that became the sore point for them. Judge Rigatti is the major shareholder in Draconi Inc."
"So why are all these people after Sara?" Logan's head was spinning with all this new information.
"Feratoni because of wounded pride. He's determined to make her pay for her ex-husband's father's actions. Capalletti and Rigatti because they're determined to make her pay for the dent in the cash flow going into their pockets. They're manufacturing evidence to try to get her out of the picture. With her out of the way, they're hoping the company will collapse, and then they'll be free to try to acquire what's left from an acquisitions corporation."
"How did you know all this?" Logan shook his head in wonder.
"I've been after the whole clan of them for years, and trying to expose the Senator for what he was; a rising power in the American-Italian Mafia." He was silent for a moment. "Logan, answer me a question, please, as honestly as you can. I promise I'm not going to hold a grudge against your girl if she did do it, but…did she kill her ex-husband?"
"Can ya keep a secret?" Logan looked at Castle, and the man nodded. Logan told him the whole story, from the Shi'ar scientist named Koven to Sara's recent resurrection. Castle listened silently. "That's why she looked so terrible, then," Castle said sympathetically as Logan lapsed into silence. "I went to the bail hearing."
"She's not lookin' terrible 'cause of her recent 'death', she's lookin' the way she is 'cause she's pregnant, an' the kids are makin' her real sick, and they won't let her take her medicine while she's in prison," Logan said indignantly.
"Pregnant?..." Castle looked incredulously at Logan. "Kids? Twins? Yours?" And when Logan couldn't keep his face from breaking into a grin, Castle slapped him on the back. "You old dog, I told you someday some girl'd make you an honest man!"
"I haven't asked her to marry me yet," Logan grumped at his friend. Castle leaned over him.
"Why the hell not? You love her, don't you?"
"Yes," Logan said, and there was a world of feeling in his voice for Sara. "But she's still on the rebound from her divorce, an' now her ex-husband's death, an' the time just hasn't been right."
"She's a hell of a girl, to put up with what she did from her late husband and still be willing to trust men again," he said. "Logan, if I were you I'd ask before you lose her. This super hero business isn't the safest, and you never know what could happen."
Logan nodded as the other man got up. "Tell Charles I said hi, and don't wait too long to tell the lawyers. There are plenty of people from the crime families who are in Riker's, and they'd do just about anything to get a 'get out of jail free' card from the judge. Even if it means seriously hurting an innocent girl."
Charles listened to Logan's narrative as he recounted what Castle had told him. "Things did seem to be progressing too fast," he said. "I'll speak to the lawyer in the morning. It will take some time to gather the evidence, but at least we know what to look for. I'll have to thank Frank when I see him again."
They went to see Sara the next day, and Logan was struck by her appearance. Even Xavier was shocked. She was pale, and her arms and legs were so thin that her stomach, swelling out now that she was beginning her fifth month, looked grotesquely huge and her eyes were red from crying. Because she was in the maximum security wing, they couldn't touch her, and her eyes filled with miserable tears again as she pressed her palm against the glass that separated her from her beloved. "Hang on, Sara," he said. "We'll get ya out o' there. I can't say anythin' yet, but ya should be out o' there in about a week."
"I miss you," she wept into the phone, and stood watching Xavier and Logan leave before following the guard out of the room.
And thanks to Frank's information, the fleet of lawyers Xavier hired to dig out the information needed to expose the conspiracy against her had done their work in a week and a half, and Sara was cleared, the charges dismissed, and she was allowed to go home free. She nearly fainted in relief when she was told she could go home, and the television cameras got a nice, clear shot of her stumbling down the courthouse steps, assisted by Logan, to get into the car waiting for her to take her home.
