The Sapphire Brooch Katherine Logan (best beach reads TXT) 📖

to their carriage. Charlotte jogged to keep up with the two long-legged men. As soon as they were safely inside the carriage and out of earshot of soldiers and spectators, Braham groaned.

“What possessed Jack to alienate the commissioners before the trial even started? I could wring his neck. If they could have voted right then they would have put him in front of a firing squad. Good God.” Braham scrubbed his face with his hands. “I’ll never be able to redeem him in the eyes of the commissioners.” He sat utterly motionless while a silent pall settled over the interior of the carriage.

Charlotte didn’t say anything. Then after several minutes, she asked, “Did you see Gordon?”

Braham wore a cold, contemplative look as he studied her. “No. Where was he?”

“Standing several feet behind you while you were talking to Holt, hissing like an angry serpent. I’m surprised you weren’t scorched by the steam.”

“So that was Gordon,” Cullen said.

Charlotte raised her voice excitedly. “You saw him?”

Cullen nodded as he teased the corner of his lip with his index finger, giving her a wry smile. “I did, and I agree with yer assessment.”

She shivered briefly in spite of the heat. “I didn’t want to look at him too closely. He gives me the creeps. What’d you think of his eyes? I didn’t get a good look at them.”

“They were glassy,” Cullen said.

“Good. The more pressure he’s under, the more laudanum he’ll use,” she said.

Cullen bounced his fingers now instead of his usual steepling. “David believes Henly framed Jack, but it seems excessive for a jealousy motive.”

“Jealous lovers kill people all the time,” she said.

“Yes, but for unrequited love or unfaithfulness. Not an elaborate plan to frame someone for a crime,” Cullen said.

“Add in revenge and you’ve got a very credible motive,” she said.

A question lifted Cullen’s brows. “Why would he want revenge?”

Braham leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. Intense interest showed on his face. “He wanted the position working for Lincoln. He outranked me, but I got the appointment. He’s had no use for me since.”

Cullen and Charlotte both stared intensely at Braham.

“Jesus. If Henly’s done all this to get even with me, I’ll stick a knife in his bloody black heart.”

84

Washington City, 1865

Three days later, Charlotte handed Braham his briefcase and kissed him good-bye at the door. He carried a signed writ of habeas corpus, a motion to compel General Hartranft to discontinue the use of hoods and excessive restraints, a motion to allow Jack to testify on his own behalf, and a motion compelling the general to make available for interview certain witnesses held in detention. When the motions were filed, the courtroom would explode, and she hated missing the excitement.

When the daily newspapers arrived, she spread them out on the dining room table to read the press reactions. They were filled with praise for Braham and Cullen’s legal prowess. Several members of the Washington bar weighed in on the constitutional challenges presented at the military trial and in federal court. Braham and Cullen were touted as brilliant, though a couple of editorials claimed Braham’s legal maneuvers were insane. One newspaper went so far as to say the courtroom shenanigans provided the best entertainment Washington had seen in over four years, and Colonel McCabe was the only actor on stage who’d been given the script. Charlotte pictured smoke pouring from General Holt’s ears over this comment.

President Johnson had suspended the writ as Braham anticipated, and Cullen had immediately filed suit in federal court claiming the president had acted beyond the scope of his legal authority. The legal community found the arguments fodder for endless debate, and the demand for courtroom passes far surpassed availability. Lawyers and journalists pressed for details about the motions Colonel McCabe intended to file on his client’s behalf. The topic of Jack’s guilt or innocence was ignored. The reports, interviews, and editorials all focused on Braham and Cullen’s legal arguments.

The publicity was taking its toll on Braham, and although he hadn’t mentioned it to her, she knew he believed he had crossed the line he’d drawn the day Cullen asked him if he thought they were cheating. General Holt was making up the rules as he went along, and to Charlotte, that was the real cheating. His railroading meant Braham and Cullen had to use everything at their disposal to save Jack.

Sorting through all the motions and briefs gave her a giant headache. Cullen left her a list of tasks every morning, and it took most of the day to mark off only the first few items. It was tedious work, and her hand cramped from writing hour after hour.

In the evening, after she’d eaten alone, she decided to take her work to her bedroom. She straightened the office, locked up the research, and took only her handwritten notes. Propped up in bed to read, she quickly fell asleep. Male voices coming from the parlor woke her some time later. She ran a brush through her curls then hurried downstairs to join the men.

Braham, Cullen, and David were relaxing with their feet up, jackets and cravats discarded, cigars and pipes and whisky glasses in their hands. The story David was telling had them all laughing. When she entered the room, they all got politely to their feet.

“Please sit. You’ve had a long day.” She waved her hand in front of her face to clear a window in the pungent smoke. “I’ll even ignore the cigars.” After pouring herself a drink, she joined Braham on the sofa.

He took her hand and kissed it. Then he tilted his head to one side, narrowing his eyes. “Ye’ve been asleep. We woke ye.”

She pushed away his concern. “I dozed off waiting for you. I read the early papers. Did you? I’m sure you cringed over the ‘script’ line.”

He frowned behind a cloud of cigar smoke. “I did.”

“The best research in the world won’t help a man who doesn’t have the innate intelligence to understand it