A/N: Thanks much for all the reviews! Now on to some action!
Chapter 27: For Lack of Negotiations
"So now Clara Gardner is getting the justice she needs, and next up is Macky Dewitt. So what's next?"
"Taking down Magnussen. Bidault is our way in."
Karen frowns and shakes her head. "It won't be as easy as that, Remy," she tells Bahorel as she leans back on her pillows. "The only person who's ever come close to unravelling him was Sherlock Holmes and even that went down pretty badly even with the Parliament."
Bahorel winces, remembering now this incident mentioned in some broadsheets several years ago. This is no time for a cavalier smile or kissing away her words, even if the sight of her in the morning light is a temptation in itself. "At least we don't have that policing us," he finally says. "It's a much freer country."
"To some extent," Karen concedes with a slight smile, at least till a phone starts beeping in the corner. She tosses a pillow at the offending gadget. "It's not even seven in the morning."
"That narrows down the possibilities to just five people," Bahorel quips before kissing her and then rolling out of bed. He laughs when he sees Enjolras' number on the screen. "Rising with the sun as always, Chief?"
"Only with the news," Enjolras replies. His voice is clear, as if he has been up for some time already. "There will be a meeting at the fiscal's office today, concerning the Bidault case. Courfeyrac won't be attending since he's accompanying Clara Gardner to the trial; today there may be a verdict."
"So you're going in his stead."
"Yes. I take that you would also want to observe the proceedings?"
"You only had to ask," Bahorel drawls. 'Just to see that bastard get his due,' he notes silently. Even now he still gets a bad taste in his mouth each time he thinks of the fate that almost befell Macky Dewitt. "What time is it going to be?"
"Ten in the morning. Do you have any pending business at the crime lab?" Enjolras asks.
"Not a blessed thing," Bahorel replies. He grins as he looks back to where Karen has apparently dozed off again, smiling softly into her pillow. "Catch you later, Chief."
"Do not be late," Enjolras admonishes. "You won't have to bring the evidence folder today."
"Got it," Bahorel says before hanging up the phone. He crawls back into bed and gives Karen a deep but languid kiss by way of apology. "Work calls, or rather, a cowardly fiscal," he whispers.
She raises her head from the pillows and yawns as she pulls him to her. "Fiscal...meeting about what?"
"The Bidault case."
"Give that piece of slime hell, won't you?"
Bahorel laughs and kisses her again. "I'll give him your regards."
Karen pushes him away playfully. "Get back here again later and tell me about it, Remy."
These words are enough to have Bahorel laughing and then kissing her again. "Now that I shall be punctual for," he promises before going to get dressed. It is odd that the prospect of a 'later' should thrill him in this way; but perhaps this time the word holds far more than just another night tangled in sheets that always have a whiff of jasmine about them.
The spring in his step is evident even an hour later as he is walking up to the law office, but he stops in his tracks upon catching sight of Courfeyrac and Marius conferring in the hallway. "I must have overslept and missed some change. What is going on?" he greets.
Courfeyrac claps Marius' shoulder. "An hour for courage."
"I'll explain it all when everyone arrives," Marius says. There is none of his usual bluster and breeziness today; his tone is one of level resolve. He carries under his arm a long, thin yellow envelope. "I do not know how it will help at this hour but I thought it would be best for you to know."
"Any point against Magnussen is a good point," Courfeyrac replies as they enter the office. By this time Enjolras, Feuilly, and Bossuet are conferring by the whiteboard, which is covered with snippets of news articles as well as small organizational charts of various corporations. "Pontmercy here has another piece of the puzzle," he announces.
Feuilly and Bossuet exchange surprised looks while Enjolras nods slowly. "Does your family know that you are coming forward with this?"
"Cosette at the very least. We agreed to it," Marius answers.
"But what about Elodie-"Feuilly begins.
"I'm doing this for her." Marius opens up the envelope and brings out several sheets of paper. On closer examination the sheets are actually photographs of a news article that appears to have been enlarged from a microfilm. "I don't know if any of you remember this story; we were all still kids then. This case was mentioned in some of our civics classes."
Enjolras peers closely at the photographs. "The Kingsley Corporation inadvertently had its factory waste spill out into several lakes and rivers," he says. "Several villages were poisoned because of it. The health board was in an uproar, so were the environmental bureaus, but the case was forgotten after a settlement was offered to the families of the victims."
"I was born in one of those villages. No one lives anymore in Vasily," Marius continues. "I was spared from the poison since my parents were particularly careful with what I ate and drank. They made do with everything else. My mother fell ill quickly. My father only wanted the means to bring her here to the city for help."
"Magnussen was connected with the firm," Courfeyrac chimes in.
"He was the one who drew up and offered the settlements. My father wanted none of it," Marius looks down and shakes his head. "He was an honourable man."
Bahorel feels all words grow thick in his throat. "I'm sorry."
Marius nods and manages a smile. "I lost my parents to this. I will not stand for him being able to do this to the rest of my family."
"They'll be safe. We'll make sure of it," Courfeyrac reassures him.
"This case was long ago. Will reopening it do any good?" Feuilly asks.
"That remains to be seen," Enjolras replies as he now adds the photographs to the whiteboard. "Nonetheless it fits in with what we have already looked up concerning Magnussen's dealing over the years. His handling of this case probably earned him the favor of a patron or two. I believe that the Kingsley Corporation was able to get most of the charges dropped, and what few remaining were thrown out on various technicalities."
Bossuet shakes his head. "Magnussen, the wielder of secrets, also now keeps a secret?"
"It's no secret to his patrons. These are favors he expects repayment for. What he does as a spin doctor, or negotiator, or whatever else puts them in his power. If he turns whistleblower, he can ruin anyone under the guise of being a good citizen," Enjolras adds. He clasps Marius' shoulder. "Thank you for this. It helps complete the account."
"Maybe now my father's soul can rest in peace." Marius stands up straighter and gives his friends a more relieved smile. "I need to be at the clinic in a few minutes. Good luck to you guys."
"You too," Enjolras shakes Marius' hand firmly, and remains standing before the whiteboard even after the doctor has already left. "We have an hour till the meeting," he finally says before going to his desk and grabbing some papers, which he also attaches to the whiteboard. "There will be more to come once the other cases are reopened."
"You mean the stuff that Eponine is looking up?" Courfeyrac asks.
Enjolras nods. "That, as well as some records that Gavroche dug up, with Mr. Fauchelevent's help."
"You're not going to get another cup of coffee, Chief?" Bossuet asks.
Enjolras merely smiles. "I'll be fine. There is still something to prepare."
'This is serious if he's refusing coffee,' Bahorel realizes. In all the years he's known Enjolras there have only been a handful of times he's seen his friend forego this usual form of fortification. "Is he well?" he asks Courfeyrac discreetly.
"He's so fired up that he doesn't need the brew," Courfeyrac replies in a gleeful undertone. "Bidault won't know what hit him."
Bahorel clucks his tongue. "What if he asks for some sort of plea bargain?"
"Not going to happen. Enjolras doesn't get the last say on that, and besides Bidault isn't the last stop on this bus," Courfeyrac says even as he heads out the door with Feuilly in tow.
Bahorel winces again before going to his own workspace and beginning to straighten it up; there is no way he can get much work done before they have to leave for the meeting. In the middle of all the detritus on his desk he finds a photo of his parents and his siblings, taken on a recent wedding anniversary. 'Perhaps by the time we next meet, I'll have better stories to tell,' he thinks. For a moment he gets a mental image of Karen accompanying him on one of these visits, but he shakes his head. Now is not the time for such whimsy.
Nevertheless he finds himself indulging in such fancy when he, Enjolras, and Bossuet are at the fiscal's office. Waiting there among the spectators and children's rights advocates are Percy Blakeney and Andrew Ffoulkes; the former tips his fedora by way of greeting when Enjolras nods to him. The official is a nervous man, almost laughably easy to ignore in this energetic crowd. In about ten minutes Bidault shows up, looking sullen in his orange prison jumper. The three lawyers accompanying him seem more encumbered than presentable with their suits and briefcases.
The fiscal looks about nervously at all the people assembled in the room. "We are here to discuss the option of a settlement-"he begins, only to be drowned out by outraged shouts and catcalls. He raises his hands in an attempt to call for order. "-a settlement in lieu of taking this to trial-" he continues.
Bahorel grits his teeth at these words. "What makes you think you can just pay off people?" he snarls at Bidault and his attorneys.
"It is a far more civilized way of settling the matter instead of a trial," Bidault's lead counsel sneers. "We're willing to give the Dewitt family twenty thousand dollars equivalent, as well as employment for their son, to any place and profession he chooses. This is to compensate for the trouble in his losing his opportunity for a job."
Enjolras crosses his arms as he levels a cold stare at this lawyer. "The terms of that offer do not properly redress the charges that your client is facing, which are propositioning a minor, illegal recruitment, possession of illegal drugs, and a misdemeanour in the form of assaulting a police officer. Furthermore the Dewitt family has signified that they are still pressing the charges and are not amenable to any sort of settlement."
Percy steps forward. "Pardon me for speaking...out of turn...but it would be in your best interests to know that I informed them of this meeting, and they stand by their stance."
"When did this happen?" Bossuet asks.
Percy holds up his phone. "Just now before you came in.
The fiscal grits his teeth. "Are you quite finished here, Mr. Blakeney?"
Percy makes a bow. "Indeed I am. It was only a little interruption."
The defense counsel exchange worried glances before looking Bidault, who is sweating and cringing with each imprecation the outraged crowd hurls at him. "Perhaps a reworking of the terms-" the lead counsel begins before he is overpowered again by the yells of the indignant onlookers.
Enjolras shakes his head before looking to the now cringing fiscal. "Our client's wishes are clear. There will not be a settlement."
Bidault clears his throat and sits up straight. "Please reconsider. I have three children-the youngest is only seven. Think of what would happen to them if I am to stand trial. Think like a father."
Enjolras looks at Bidault and puts his hands on the table. "I am a father as well, and I have certainly thought of what I too would do if it were my son who'd been in the diner that day. Considering that, all the more I stand by my client's wishes. Good day to you."
The fiscal's face is grim as he looks first from the prosecutors to the defense. "If there is nothing more to discuss, then the arraignment will proceed as scheduled-" he shouts over the din in the room.
"There will not be an arraignment."
Bahorel clenches his fist even as he feels Percy and Andrew hold him back by his arms. Bossuet swears while Bidault nearly slumps with relief. Enjolras says nothing but his eyes are colder than steel as he faces Magnussen, who is standing at the other side of the desk.