Perfect (Flawed #2)

“Every week I receive dozens of requests from Flawed to take on their cases, and I don’t. I am the fantasy, dream lawyer of many, not because they know of my verdict overturn, but because of my reputation in the courtroom. I am the giant of the Flawed litigation world. Ironic, isn’t it?

“That’s why I’m here; retired, young, and safe in the mountains away from it all. I’m not quite sure how you found me, but I’m impressed. I can see from your face, Celestine, that you don’t believe me about being safe in the mountains, you frowned when I said it. Well, you’re right, there’s the issue of your friend Crevan. I’ve decided it would be best for us if he and I keep our distance. He’s a sore loser to say the least. But he knows where I am if he wants me. He makes sure to let me know of that.”

Raphael leans forward and looks at me properly for the first time since I arrived. “As for you, you’ve managed to evade him. Which is a curious thing, for two reasons. How you’re doing it, and why he wants you. And I want to know why, of course, but I can’t let that be the deciding factor in whether I take this case. I can deal with not knowing.”

He sits back and taps his chin in thought.

“If I ask you why you have Crevan’s fullest attention, Celestine, will you tell me?”

I sense Carrick about to speak, but I jump in. “Only if you agree to represent me first. In writing,” I add.

He smiles. “The problem is, no matter what is going on with you and Judge Crevan, I’m not sure that I can win your case. It was a curious one from the start. You’re Flawed, not for aiding a Flawed, which should have carried a prison sentence, but instead for lying about it. You admitted it yourself in court. After lying about it, which puts a stain on your character already. But the fact is, I want to know what has gotten Crevan so anxious. And I’m wondering if knowing is worth losing for.” He looks at me and thinks. “Currently, I’m swaying toward yes.”

He stands up and paces, walking back and forth over Wayne the cowboy rug.

“Ah, yes.”

He stops and smiles as if he’s listened to my silent rebuttal.

“I understand now. What you want to do is argue the Flawed case entirely, which is a human rights issue that would ordinarily be taken to the high court, which would defeat your case because no lawyer of any quality has represented a Flawed outside of the Guild for fear of being seen to be aiding a Flawed, even if money changes hands, which I’m guessing it won’t because you don’t have any. No, what you need is someone like Enya Sleepwell from the Vital Party fighting in your corner, but your boyfriend would know all about her, being entrenched so deeply in her campaign.”

At first I think he’s talking about Art but I notice he’s looking at Carrick. I’m confused.

“Oh, no, Mr. Angelo, you’re mistaken, Carrick doesn’t have anything to do with Enya Sleepwell,” I explain.

“Ah. Oh dear. She doesn’t know about you and Enya Sleepwell, does she, Carrick? Are you going to enlighten her, or shall I?”

Carrick swallows.





THIRTY-FIVE

“ENLIGHTEN ME … PLEASE,” I say, feeling fear and anger rising, as I look from Raphael to Carrick and back again.

“Your boyfriend’s mission, should he choose to accept it, and let’s face it, he already has, was to get you in his care and carry out this plan of action, so that Enya Sleepwell could use you in her campaign. She’s aiming for the Flawed vote, and no politician has ever tried that before. As you may know, the Flawed traditionally don’t vote in elections, despite it being one of the few rights they have left. What’s the point in a Flawed voting for a politician who controls a society they are not technically part of?

“Going for the Flawed vote is a clever but risky tactic. Enya needs more than just the Flawed on her side, and in order to do that she needs people to believe in the Flawed. How can people believe in the Flawed? Celestine the hero to save the day. It’s a vicious circle. How much of her campaign rests on your shoulders alone, Celestine?” He’s looking at Carrick. “I bet a lot.”

“How do you … That’s not exactly how it…” Carrick stumbles.

“Hmm.” Raphael looks at me again. “Think for yourself, Celestine.”

I’m so shocked by what I’ve just heard, the idea of Carrick being in cahoots with Enya Sleepwell, that I can’t tear my eyes off Carrick. He won’t meet my gaze; he’s looking down, uncomfortable, fingers toying with the frayed knees of his jeans.

“Hair pulling, name-calling, and catfighting later. Eyes back on me, eyes back on me,” Raphael says with a smile. He makes his way to his desk, slides open a drawer, and takes out a piece of paper. He fills it out, hands it to me.

“This is a standard agreement binding us as lawyer and client, but it will do.”

I take my time reading it. It is a short and simple contract, worded to say that Raphael Angelo represents the interests of Celestine North. No obvious tricks.

“So tell me”—he sits on a footstool and leans toward me—“what do you know that’s so bad that Crevan the fox is hunting down poor little Celestine?”

“Don’t tell him,” Carrick says as I stand up. “We don’t know if we can trust him.”

“Trust?” I spit angrily. “So you do know the word?”

Carrick looks away, annoyed, with a shake of his head.

“And we’re off,” Raphael says with a sigh, and folds his arms.

I turn my back to Raphael, lift my T-shirt, and lower the waist of my trousers.

Silence.

Then Raphael sucks in air. “A sixth brand. On your spine.” He stands closer to me, inspects it. “It’s not in the Guild paperwork. They’re illustrious for their paperwork. It’s your word against his.”

“There’s footage of Crevan ordering the extra brand on me,” I say, measuring my words. “That’s what he’s looking for.”

He leans forward, raises his eyebrows. “Footage? Well, now, that changes things.”

“Well, there’s more,” I say. “The guard wouldn’t carry out the brand,” I explain. “The spine is not an official branding zone and there was no anesthetic; it’s outside of Guild guidelines, so Crevan branded me himself.”

Raphael’s eyes almost pop out of his head. He stands and paces while he thinks. I can see the excitement in him, though he’s trying to hide it, and it’s confirmed to me that I’ve got something here. I’ve really got something against Crevan.

He stops pacing. He looks at me sympathetically, suddenly very sad. Genuinely.

“I must apologize, Celestine. I’m afraid I’ve let you down. I’ve fallen for the oldest trick in the film, which is to jump the gun, assume I’d heard and seen everything in my time. I missed the fact there could be a twist. I’m afraid I’m a man of black and white, of right and wrong. Just as I wouldn’t offer a Flawed alcohol, I couldn’t aid a Flawed who is on the run, in my home. I have seven children and too much to lose.”

Carrick stiffens beside me.

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