Nightingale's Gate

Chapter One The city sweltered. Alice Kendall absently curled a loose tendril of white-blonde hair behind her ear. It was unbearably hot in her small law office in the South End of town, her long skirts and petticoats even more confining than usual. But she hardly noticed. Pulling a folded rectangle of newsprint from a file, she reread the startling headline that she hadn't been able to get out of her mind. prominent son charged in murder Last week she had cut the article from the paper, though she couldn't say why. In the short nine months she had been a solicitor, she had made something of a name for herself by defending small but difficult cases. Even though a murder charge was well beyond what she could reasonably expect to take on at this point in her career, it was just the kind of case she dreamed of defending one day. Big and important. Tapping the newsprint in thought, she started to read. Lucas Hawthorne, son of prominent citizen Bradford Hawthorne, has been charged with the murder of Lucille Rouge, a well-known courtesan found dead in Beckman's alleyway in the early hours of Sunday morning. After his arrest Tuesday afternoon, Hawthorne was set free on a five-hundred-dollar bond. Equally well known as the owner of the infamous gentlemen's club, Nightingale's Gate, Lucas Hawthorne was unavailable for comment. The elder Hawthorne son, Grayson, emphatically declared his brother's innocence. Matthew, the middle Hawthorne son, is reportedly returning to Boston from Africa. It is to be expected that the three Hawthorne brothers would show such solidarity. What is unexpected, however, is that Bradford Hawthorne, the venerable patriarch of the clan, has refused to make any comment at all. The article went on, but Alice sat back and barely felt the bite of hard wood pressing her whalebone corset against her ribs. The Hawthorne brothers were well known throughout Boston. They were born of an autocratic, demanding father; and each, in turn, had grown up to be a breed apart. It was said they were exceedingly wealthy, impossibly handsome, and supremely arrogant. Lucas Hawthorne, Alice had heard, was the wildest of the three, and so exceptionally handsome and charming that women had taken to lining the steps of the courthouse every time the man appeared before a judge for a pretrial hearing. Alice had heard that the throng of females called out to him as he took the granite steps, straining to touch him, and cried after he disappeared through the thick, oak doors. She couldn't understand such a response to an accused murderer. It was no secret Lucas was the youngest son of the very fine family, someone who seemed to relish his black-sheep image. Proper Boston didn't take kindly to a man who laughed in the face of propriety. Neither did her father, Boston's highly successful district attorney for the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. No one within a hundred-mile radius dared cross Walker Kendall. During his tenure as lead prosecutor for the Commonwealth, he had won far more cases than he had lost. Alice cringed for the poor fool who would be faced with the task of defending Lucas Hawthorne. He didn't stand a chance against her father. While she had never met any of the Hawthorne family, she felt sure given their name and money, not to mention the fact that Grayson Hawthorne was considered one of the finest lawyers in town, that there would be a fight. Intrigued in spite of herself, she resolved to ask her father what he knew about the case when they met at noon for lunch at Locke-Ober's. A sharp rap on the frosted window in the door shook her from her reverie. She blinked at the large, distorted form that stood behind the glass. Instantly the article was forgotten. While she had successfully defended thLee, Linda Francis is the author of 'Nightingale's Gate', published 2001 under ISBN 9780449002070 and ISBN 0449002071.