The Other Side of Midnight

"That is all, thank you, Doctor."

The jurors were staring at Noelle Page and Larry Douglas and their faces had turned cold and unfriendly. A stranger could have walked into that courtroom and known instantly how the case was going.

Bill Fraser's eyes were bright with satisfaction. After Dr. Kazomides' testimony there could no longer be the slightest doubt that Catherine had been murdered by Larry Douglas and Noelle Page. There was nothing Napoleon Chotas would be able to do to eradicate from the minds of the jurors the image of a terrified woman, drugged and defenseless, begging not to be left in the hands of her murderer.

Frederick Stavros was in a panic. He had gladly let Napoleon Chotas run the show, following his lead in blind faith, confident that Chotas would be able to secure an acquittal for his client and therefore for Stavros' client. Now he felt betrayed. Everything was falling apart. The doctor's testimony had been irreparably damaging, both for its evidential and its emotional impact. Stavros looked around the room. Except for the one mysteriously reserved seat the room was filled. The world press was here, waiting to report what happened next.

Stavros had a momentary vision of himself leaping to his feet, confronting the doctor and brilliantly tearing his testimony to shreds. His client would be acquitted and he, Stavros, would be a hero. He knew this would be his last chance. The outcome of this case would mean the difference between fame and obscurity. Stavros could actually feel his thigh muscles bunching up, urging him to get to his feet. But he could not move. He sat there, paralyzed by the overpowering specter of failure. He turned to look at Chotas. The deep, sad eyes in the bloodhound face were studying the doctor on the witness stand, as though trying to come to some decision.

Slowly Napoleon Chotas rose to his feet. But instead of walking over to the witness, he moved toward the bench and quietly addressed the judges.

"Mr. President, Your Honors, I do not wish to cross-examine the witness. With the Court's permission, I would like to ask for a recess in order to confer in camera with the Court and the Prosecuting Attorney."

The President of the Court turned to the Prosecutor. "Mr. Demonides?"

"No objection," Demonides said, his voice wary.

The Court was recessed. Not one person moved from his chair.

Thirty minutes later Napoleon Chotas returned to the courtroom alone. The instant he walked through the chamber door, everyone in the courtroom sensed that something important had taken place. There was an air of secret self-satisfaction in the lawyer's face, his walk was faster and springier, as though some charade had ended and it was no longer necessary to play games. Chotas walked over to the defendant's box and stared down at Noelle. She looked up into his face, her violet eyes probing, anxious. And suddenly a smile touched the lawyer's lips, and from the light in his eyes Noelle knew that somehow he had done it, he had performed the miracle in spite of all the evidence, in spite of all the odds. Justice had triumphed, but it was the Justice of Constantin Demiris. Larry Douglas was staring at Chotas, too, filled with fear and with hope. Whatever Chotas had done would have been for Noelle. But what about him?

Chotas addressed Noelle in a carefully neutral voice. "The President of the Court has given me permission to speak with you in his chambers." He turned to Frederick Stavros, who was sitting in an agony of uncertainty, not knowing what was going on. "You and your client have permission to join us if you wish."

Stavros nodded. "Of course." He scrambled to his feet, almost knocking over his chair in his eagerness.

Two bailiffs accompanied them to the empty chambers of the President. When the bailiffs had left and they were alone, Chotas turned to Frederick Stavros. "What I am about to say," he said quietly, "is for the benefit of my client. However, because they are co-defendants, I have been able to arrange for your client to be accorded the same privilege as mine."

"Tell me!" Noelle demanded.

Chotas turned to her. He spoke slowly, choosing his words with great care. "I have just had a conference with the judges," he said. "They were impressed with the case the prosecution has made against you. However--" he paused, delicately, "I was able to--er--persuade them that the interests of justice would not be served bv punishing you."

"What's going to happen?" Stavros demanded in a fever of impatience.

There was a note of deep satisfaction in Chotas' voice as he continued, "If the defendants are willing to change their pleas to guilty, the judges have agreed to give each of them a five-vear sentence." He smiled and added. "Four years of which will be suspended. In reality they will not have to serve more than six months." He turned to Larry. "Because you are an American, Mr. Douglas, you will be deported. You will never be permitted to return to Greece."

Larry nodded, his body flooding with relief.

Chotas turned back to Noelle. "This was not an easy thing to accomplish. I must tell you in all honesty that the primary reason for the leniency of the Court is the interest of your--er--patron. They feel he has already suffered unduly because of all this publicity, and they are anxious to see it ended."

"I understand," Noelle said.

Napoleon Chotas hesitated in embarrassment. "There is one more condition."

She looked at him. "Yes?"

"Your passport will be taken away. You will never be permitted to leave Greece. You will remain here under the protection of your friend."

So it had been done.

Constantin Demiris had kept his bargain. Noelle did not for a moment believe that the judges were being lenient because they were concerned about Demiris' being subjected to unpleasant publicity. No, he had had to pay a price for her freedom, and Noelle knew that it must have been a heavy one. But in return Demiris was getting her back and arranging it so that she could never leave him. Or see Larry again. She turned to Larry and read the relief in his face. He was going to be set free, and that was all he cared about. There was no regret about losing her and about what had happened. But Noelle understood it because she understood Larry, for he was her alter ego, her Doppelganger, and they

both had the same reckless zest for life, the same insatiable appetites. They were kindred spirits beyond mortality, beyond laws they had never made and never lived by. In her way Noelle would miss Larry very much, and when he left, a part of her would go with him. But she knew now how precious her life was to her and how terrified she had been of losing it. And so on balance it was a very good bargain, and she accepted it gratefully. She turned to Chotas and said, "That is satisfactory."

Chotas looked at her, and there was a sadness in his eyes as well as the satisfaction. Noelle understood that, too. He was in love with her and had had to use all his skill to save her for another man. Noelle had deliberately ately encouraged Chotas to fall in love with her because she needed him, needed to make sure that he would stop at nothing to save her. And everything had worked out.

"I think it's absolutely marvelous," Frederick Stavros was babbling. "Absolutely marvelous."

In truth Stavros felt that it was a miracle, nearly as good as an acquittal, and while it was true that Napoleon Chotas would reap most of the benefit from it, the peripheral fallout would still be tremendous. From this moment on Stavros would have his choice of clients, and each time he told the story of the trial, his role in it would get bigger and bigger.