Hildebrand clears his throat and the two move apart. Isabelle comes to stand beside me. I wrap a hand around the back of her neck.
“Coffee? Tea?” Hildebrand asks when his secretary enters carrying a large silver tray.
“Let’s just get to it, shall we?” I gesture for Isabelle to sit in one of the empty chairs and take the seat beside her. I cross one ankle over the opposite knee and lean back. “I’m dying to hear of this next earth-shattering revelation.”
Julia moves to the side of the desk and looks at Hildebrand with unsure eyes. I watch her.
“Go on,” Hildebrand says, patting her hand. I have a visual of her on her knees at his feet sucking his old dick. I throw up a little in my mouth at the image.
She turns to us, looks at me first, then Isabelle, her features schooled perfectly to show concern. Uncertainty. Vulnerability even.
“I was going through some files in Carlton’s desk and I came across something that seemed strange.” She stops, focuses on Isabelle. “I don’t want to hurt you, honey.”
“What is it? You’re scaring me,” Isabelle says.
“I feel sick to say it,” she says, turning to Hildebrand.
“I’m sure.” I look to Hildebrand. “This is a waste of my time.”
He puts up a hand for me to be patient. Julia clears her throat, sighs deeply.
“Danny Gibson’s name was on a file in one of his drawers.”
“Danny Gibson?” Isabelle asks and I know what Julia fucking Bishop is about to do. I know exactly. And I have to admit. She’s clever. More clever than I assumed.
She nods. “I was surprised. I mean, I thought at first he’d just tracked the trial or something but,” she pauses, shakes her head, wipes away an imaginary tear. “It was a payment schedule.”
I don’t have to look at Isabelle to know her reaction. I feel it. I tried to tell her the same thing just days ago. It’s just being confirmed. But Julia’s going to put her own spin on things.
“He tried to… Danny Gibson being at your house wasn’t an accident, Isabelle. Carlton wanted you out of the picture. He hired that man to do it.”
I turn to Isabelle now who sits still as stone, and as pale.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Julia starts to cry and I have to admit, she’s good. Isabelle is on her feet in an instant hugging her. Comforting her.
I watch from my seat, wrapping my left hand around the bruised knuckle of my right fist. I have to stop myself from attacking. Because I want to attack.
“He used my account at the charity to make the second payment. Used my name, Isabelle. I didn’t know. I had no idea. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. How could you know?” Isabelle is crying too and rubbing Julia’s back.
When I turn to Hildebrand, he’s watching me. “Well, it turns out Mr. Bishop wasn’t very smart if he left a paper trail. Considering his other offenses, I’m not sure at all whether this funeral service should be held at the cathedral. If he were alive and Ms. Bishop came to me with this, the Tribunal would have no choice but to take action.” It’s bullshit because he could have done that with the information I had on Bishop. But he is also playing a part. Covering his ass.
“He’s dead now,” Julia says. “And it would only bring shame on us. On his son and myself. So, I’m asking for leniency, Councilor. I’m asking that this information be kept between us. There’s nothing to be gained by going public either within The Society or outside of it. Christian is dead. Carlton is dead. There’s just you and me, Isabelle. And Matty.” She tacks on her son’s name as if it were an afterthought.
I could mention her visit to Danny Gibson’s brother but decide to keep it under my hat. Let her think I don’t know. I’m curious if Isabelle will give it away. She doesn’t want it to be true. I watch my wife.
“You’re right. We don’t want anyone else hurt by what he did,” Isabelle says.
“Thank you.” Julia squeezes Isabelle’s hand. “I loved him. Through it all, I loved him.”
Isabelle smiles warmly. My sweet wife. She is no match for this pariah.
I get to my feet and draw Isabelle to my side, keeping her close.
“You said you had a request for coming forward with this information. Surely keeping it quiet isn’t all you want.”
Julia’s gaze is cooler when it falls on me. I wonder if Isabelle sees that. She glances to Hildebrand then back to me. She licks her lips before speaking.
“I ask you to withdraw your request for a second autopsy,” she says.
I want to look at Isabelle. See her face. But I don’t. And I want to smile the victor’s smile. But I won’t. Because I meant what I said to Isabelle earlier. This isn’t about winning. There can be no winner.
“Why would I do that?” I ask.
Isabelle remains conspicuously quiet. I wonder if Julia is expecting her to jump to her defense.
“Well,” Julia says, faltering as she glances from me to Isabelle to Hildebrand. I get the feeling she was counting on Isabelle to take her side. “There’s no sense in dragging us all through that, is there? Delaying the funeral. Making people wonder why. Asking questions.”
I shrug my shoulders. “I could give a fuck.”
“What about my son. Do you give a fuck about him?” she snaps.
“Do you?” I ask.
She looks appropriately affronted.
“Mr. St. James,” Hildebrand starts, stands. “Perhaps we should leave what little dignity Mr. Bishop has left intact.”
“What dignity would that be?” I ask him. “He died fucking a whore while his supposed beloved, the mother of his child, was at home warming his bed. Or at least that’s what I’m being told I should believe,” I address her with this last part.
Hildebrand clears his throat. “There’s no need for cruelty, St. James.”
“I didn’t have to share this information,” Julia says, appealing to Isabelle. “But I wanted to make an effort. For our families’ sakes. For Matty.” She turns to me. “For Angelique.”
My jaw tightens at the mention of my daughter. I quickly consider something. I think maybe it would be a good idea to send Angelique away for a little while. Until this is finished. Until Julia Bishop is no longer a threat.
“What are you afraid of?” I ask. “What do you think will be discovered?”
“Nothing. Of course. It’s just a waste of time. I’d like to put this behind myself and my son and start over. God knows Matty deserves that. Doesn’t he, Isabelle?”
“He does,” Isabelle says and takes Julia’s hand. “But for there to be peace between our families, and there must be because we are joined for better or for worse, all of us, let Jericho have his second autopsy. And when nothing is discovered, then it will be behind us. All suspicions erased.”
Julia looks at her with a moment of what I swear is hate on her face. Does Isabelle see it? It’s there and gone in a split second. Then Julia smiles, nods.
“You’re right, cousin. You’re right.”
She meets my eyes momentarily and I wonder if she sees the small upward curving of my lip. That’s for her eyes only. The autopsy is scheduled for tomorrow. And my wife is on my side. Now those are victories. Especially the latter.