A screen descended from the ceiling. The women watched an abridged version of the Wilsons’ interrogations. Lila recoiled when Patrick turned to the double-sided glass, suspecting that she had been the one behind Shaw’s questions.
Alex suspected it too, murmuring several choice words. Someone must have shown her the tape. Even now, she chose to blame Lila for their mistakes.
Or perhaps just Patrick’s.
Perhaps he’d always be a little boy to her, a boy who’d been led by their mother and wronged by Lila. A scapegoat, rather than a co-conspirator. A fool, rather than a murderer.
Just like Lila had trouble seeing Shiloh as a father and senator.
“The House of the Golden Serpent has fallen,” Élise proclaimed after the screen darkened and rose back into the ceiling. “Celeste and Patrick Wilson have both confessed to treason. Celeste, under the truth serum, and Patrick, of his own free will and in the presence of his advocate and Chief Shaw. A special council of the High Senate and Low Senate each ruled to convict. After viewing the interrogation, I see no reason why we should overturn their decision. Would anyone like to speak before we vote?”
“You’re damn right I wish to speak,” Alex snapped before anyone else had a chance to say a word. She grabbed a file before Lila and waved it in the air. “My brother wouldn’t do any of this. You know him. You’ve been to parties with him. You’ve worked with him. A few of you or your daughters have even slept with him. How could you even think he’d be mixed up in—”
“Bedrooms do not make boardrooms,” Chairwoman Grace Masson gently reminded her.
“My mother made him do this, and you know it. You can’t execute him for being easily led. He doesn’t have the sense for any of this. Put him in the auction house if you must, but don’t condemn an innocent man to death.” It wasn’t pleading that entered Alex’s voice. It was rage. Pure rage directed at every woman in the room who still had power she did not, the power to rule, the power to kill her brother with a simple vote. If she were still prime, several of the women might have hid under the table.
Élise swallowed hard and lifted her gavel. “Chief Randolph, rein in your pet, or we’ll be forced to have the militia escort her out.”
“She’s neither a pet nor a child. She’s a grown woman who used to stand among us not so long ago. Show her some damn respect.”
“You go too far,” Johanna growled. “I think Ms. Wilson has said enough for one evening.”
Lila swiveled her chair and faced her old friend. “Ms. Wilson, if you have anything, anything at all to corroborate your claims, to prove that your brother was led, to prove that he didn’t have the sense to make these decisions for himself, then speak now.”
“You know him,” Alex said, fumbling.
“I thought I knew him. He admitted to all charges.”
“Not under the serum.”
“Would that satisfy you?”
“Yes.”
Lila considered her agreement, considered how she might talk Shaw into giving Patrick the serum and sneaking Alex inside the holding cells to witness it.
But Shaw would never go for it. Bullstow had already gotten a confession.
Chairwoman Masson gave Alex a pitying look. “Your brother must agree to the serum, Ms. Wilson. He did not. No sane person would, given the side effects. Chief Shaw cannot force it on a person just because the accused’s sister cannot—”
Alex slammed the file on the table.
Everyone winced at
the loud slap.
“Ms. Wilson,” Lila began, “unless you have some piece of evidence to present to us, then I’m afraid there is nothing we can do to stop this. He made his decisions. Now he has to face the consequences, as do you. I ask again, do you have any evidence to present to this council?”
“Chief,” Johanna hissed. “The time for evidence has passed. This is most irregular.”
“No, what would be most irregular is if a militia chief tossed a chairwoman out the window.”
The women gasped, and Johanna’s eyes dropped to the recorder in the middle of the table. “You would dare threaten me?”
“Johanna, shut up,” Lila replied tiredly, spinning once more in her chair. “Ms. Wilson, help us help you. We have Patrick’s confession. How do you counter that?”
“It’s just the boastings of a young boy. A boy who was angry because his sister was wronged. A boy who was confused by his mother.”