Title: Corruption, Purity and Desire
Disclaimer: The Devil Wears Prada does not belong to me. No infringement intended to Lauren Weisberger and 20th Century Fox. All characters are purely fictional. Thanks to various crime fiction for the inspiration behind the dialogue.
Summary: Two and a half years after leaving Runway; Andy Sachs is now working as an investigative journalist for a New York newspaper. Miranda Priestly continues her reign as The New York Fashion Queen, but under the surface the cracks are beginning to form. The unfortunate events of one cold winter’s evening force them to face the unrelenting demon that hides in the shadows. When do you run and when do you stand your ground?
WARNING: There are some scenes of violence and heavy language. If you are easily offended or squeamish I DO NOT suggest that you read this!
AN: Thanks to punky_96 for the awesome beta duties. Without you this one would still be in sitting unfinished gathering cobwebs! You have been my muse and my rock!
AN2: Reviewed and edited (03 Jan 2011).
“Emily, enough of the hysterics! I don’t have all day.” Andy heard Miranda snap.
“What exactly does it say?” She demanded as she paced the room. Andy watched her intently. ‘Accessory crisis?’ She thought not.
“Have you spoken with Leigh?” Miranda continued. “Ok, let’s do what we can to limit the exposure. Cancel today’s schedule and I want to meet with my lawyer; immediately!” Andy felt Miranda’s tone reach what was possibly a lifetime record on the deadly-metre. “And, I want the name of the Runway informant waiting on my desk when I arrive. That’s all.” She snapped definitively and ended the call.
Andy knew that if she waited for Miranda to explain she would be waiting a very long time. “Is everything ok?” She asked timidly.
“Not exactly.” Miranda seethed.
Andy took at step towards her and Miranda side stepped the advance; heading into the hall to retrieve her coat and bag.
Andy followed. “Hey! What is it?!” Miranda remained silently. “Miranda, tell me what’s going on?” But Miranda didn’t respond. Changing her tact, Andy tried again. “Do I need to call Emily to schedule a response?”
The insolent tone caused Miranda to bite, which had been Andy’s intention. “Don’t be ridiculous. I just need to deal with this.” She answered distractedly.
“No,” Andy took hold of Miranda’s wrist. “You need to talk to me first.” Both women remained locked in a stare down for what-to-Andy seemed like an eternity, an eternity of fiery hell.
Miranda pulled her wrist away from Andy’s grasp with force. “Come with me!” She ordered, her voice was quiet yet it spoke volumes. Miranda led them to the den and closed the door away from the prying ears of the house keeper and the security team.
Miranda launched straight into her explanation, letting her anger flare. “Your not-so-reputable employer has published a damning story about my personal life and my attachment to a young female reporter. I warned him and now he’s gone too far.”
“And you blame me for this?” Andy questioned, affronted by Miranda’s words.
“Of course not, you silly girl! I…I just need to…” Miranda stumbled over her words as the anger took over.
“You just need to control everything. I know you, Miranda. However, Eddie can’t…no, won’t be controlled. It’s all about the scoop for him and he doesn’t care who or what he tramples on to get it.”
Miranda still wouldn’t look Andy in the eye. There was something that she wasn’t telling her. “Miranda, what did you do?”
“I was simply looking out for your and our best interests.” Miranda answered.
Andy paused to consider Miranda’s words. “What does that mean?”
“It means that I did what was necessary to protect you.” She snapped.
“I’m a big girl, Miranda! I don’t need you to fight my battles.” Andy countered.
Miranda had wanted to avoid this. Yes, she would admit that Andy had changed. She was stronger, more independent, but even after everything she had been through she still had a beautiful innocence that radiated from her soul. Miranda never wanted her to lose that. At the time, she hadn’t thought twice about taking control of the situation. It was second nature to her. Looking back and analysing her motives Miranda knew that her primal instinct had been to protect Andrea. Potential consequences had been ignored, but the priority was Andrea’s safety. But she was struggling for the words to convey this to her.
She sighed deeply. “I want you to listen very carefully.” Miranda warned. “You are way out of your league here.”
Hearing the patronizing words, Andy snapped. “How dare you! You have no idea how hard I have worked to get here, the horrors I have seen, what I have done to build my name, my reputation, my credibility…” The moment the words left her mouth, she wished she could take them back. Realising that if anyone could understand how she was feeling and what she had done, it would be Miranda. She was filled with regret, only it was too late to take it back.
“Are you done with your little outburst?” Miranda snarked viciously. Her nostrils flared in anger and Andy felt her cheeks flame red as she simply nodded in response.
Miranda took a deep breath and smoothed her hands over her skirt to recompose herself. “I spoke to Mr. Curran the morning after the accident and I requested for all of your files and belongings to be sent to my office. I advised him that it would not be in his best interest to run any further pieces, which could be detrimental to the open investigation. I strongly suggested he cease and desist.”
“You pissed him off.” Andy interrupted.
“Well, as you can probably guess, he was less than happy with the suggestions that I made but my influential stature tends to hold some persuasive weight, so naturally he complied. Unfortunately, that same stature means that I am a constant target for the tabloids. I have to admit this wasn’t something I saw coming. Not yet anyway.”
“I’m sorry.” Andy offered feeling the gravity of the situation on her shoulders.
“Why are you sorry? Neither of us knew that he would do this.”
“I know him; I know what he is capable of. Maybe if you had talked to me, told me what was going on? I could have done something to stop this.”
Miranda held out her hand. For a woman who rarely needed to apologise, this was a massive gesture and Andy knew it. Taking Andrea’s hand, Miranda pulled her into a gentle hug.
“What are you going to do?” Andy whispered close to Miranda’s ear.
Miranda kissed Andrea softly on the temple. “I’m going to do what I do best and make this go away.”
Settling back into Miranda’s embrace, Andy let their conversation wash over her. There were so many things that needed to be said, they had spent the week avoiding the complicated, side stepping the difficult, and ignoring that giant pink elephant in the room.
Andy considered their situation. Lifting her head from Miranda’s shoulder and forced some direct eye contact. “You know we need to talk, don’t you?”
Miranda sighed deeply. “Not right now, Andrea.” She warned.
Andy tried desperately to read Miranda’s thoughts, but she wasn’t giving anything away. “Ok, but soon, very soon. I need to know what this is and what we are doing here?”
“I know, I agree. I’ll be home for dinner, we’ll talk then.” Miranda smiled. It was a warm, genuine smile that made Andy feel as if she was dancing on a cloud. “But now, I need to get to work. I have some heads to crack.”
“Ok, but go easy on Emily!” Andy noted. The backward glance she received from Miranda could only be described as pure evil.
As first assistant to one of the most powerful women in the country, Emily could be forgiven for being a little tightly wound. The fact that her name was pre-empted by many with the title ‘long suffering assistant to Miranda Priestly’ often raised the question: why Emily hadn’t broken yet?
The answer was not difficult, not to Emily anyway. Miranda was her queen and as long as she wielded this sword of power, Emily would continue to show her loyalty. In the end she hoped to be recognized and given her Knighthood—or at the very least a Victoria Cross, for acts of bravery.
Today, actually, the week had been particularly challenging and for the first time Emily had found herself questioning her unquestionable level of dedication.
Denial had been her number one ally so far. She’d told herself that she didn’t want to know why Miranda had rushed to Andrea’s side in the hospital. Why she had called her a friend? Especially when Miranda Priestly didn’t have any friends, certainly not an insolent little nobody, like Andrea-bloody-Sachs. Now, there was this article with its wild and ridiculous accusations. The story had the entire office in a state of simultaneous shock and panic and had put everyone on red-alert. It was almost too much for Emily Charlton to bear; after all, denial could only hold jealousy at bay for so long!
Emily was so caught up in her little world-of-woe, she had not heard the warning shot fired from her cell phone announcing Miranda’s arrival into the lobby. Even the ping of the elevator door opening in the hall had not snapped her out of her self-pity haze. Unfortunately, for Emily it was the sound of Miranda clearing her throat as she stood looming over her desk, which finally brought her back to reality. For this, there would be hell to pay.
“Am I interrupting you?” Miranda challenged, fixing Emily with her infamous flesh-eating stare.
“Um…um…um.” Emily stammered suddenly feeling quite faint.
Nigel had managed to hide away in his office for most of the morning. He’d seen the article and he knew that Miranda had every right to be on the warpath. He also couldn’t admit to being surprised about the wild allegations. Now he had been pushed to think about it, the pieces fell into place quite nicely. Suddenly it made sense to him.
It was mid-afternoon before curiosity finally got the better of him, forcing him from his hidey-hole. Stealth crawling into the outer office–well as best he could wearing a lime-green suit—he listened for sounds of flagellation and/or sobbing. To his disappointment, there was only silence.
“So?” Nigel whispered to an extremely frazzled looking Emily over her desk.
“What do you bloody think?” Emily hissed venomously.
“I think it’s time we went for a little walk, don’t you?” Nigel’s whispered voice was so muted that he practically mouthed his sentence to her.
Emily rolled her eyes, knowing that he only wanted the gossip; frankly, she welcomed the offer of sanctuary. Applying the death-stare, she fixed her gaze on a puffy-eyed teary Carrie and pointed her finger with force. “If you move from that desk, I will bloody tar and feather you. Do you understand?”
Carrie simply nodded, her bottom lip trembling uncontrollably.
Emily followed Nigel back to his office, as fast as her Choos would carry her. Past experience had taught her that when the defcon level was raised this high, leaving the desk for any more than five minutes could be potentially catastrophic.
“So?” Nigel asked impatiently.
Emily began pacing the room much like a patient on a mental ward. “Oh my god, I mean…oh my god! I can’t begin to tell you how foul she has been today.”
“Really darling, as if you need to? Come on, spill!” He urged.
“It was Shanya the Hair and Beauty Editor. She didn’t turn up for work this morning. Apparently, she’s been AWOL for two days now. Miranda told me to…” Emily made double air inverted commas. “…‘deal with it.’ I hope the money was worth it, because believe me she will never work in this town again. Jesus, Nigel what the bloody hell am I supposed to do about the story? Her lawyers are about as much use as a chocolate fireguard. What is so difficult about suing that rag? Defamation of character? Slander? Libel? I could do it myself with a quick internet law degree.” Emily released an exasperated sigh.
“So, what are they doing?” He asked, shocked at the lack of movement from the lawyers.
Emily sighed again. “Well, of course, it’s not as easy as just suing. They have to find actual malice before they can proceed. For god sake, did they go the College of Idiocy? Of course, it was malicious! In the meantime, while they fanny around trying to figure out their arses from their elbows, who gets it in the neck? ME, that’s who, I blame her for all of this, Andrea-bloody-Sachs!” Emily paused for a moment; her voice broke as if she was on the verge of tears. “Why her Nigel? Why?”
“Really Red! Don’t tell me you are shocked by this?” Nigel waved his hand in the air animatedly. To the outsider, Nigel gave the impression that he was impervious, that he didn’t care. The truth was they had served too much time on the frontline side-by-side for him to ever turn his back on Emily. Of course he wanted to know every dirty detail, that was a given, but deep down he knew he’d gone there to talk Emily down from the ledge. “First assistant to Miranda Priestly is a thankless, sun up to sun down, shit shovelling job. Believe me, nobody deserves that pat on the back more than you do, sweetheart.” Nigel took Emily by the shoulders and looked her deep in the eyes. “Do you really think that she cares about this law suit?”
“But…?” Emily stammered.
“Darling, the fashion industry thrives on diversity. She knows that this little expose couldn’t possibly do anything but good for her career and this magazine. But that’s not the point is it? No… the point is they took the decision out of her hands, she was no longer in control. They backed her into a corner like an animal and what is cornered beast to do but attack?” Nigel gave her shoulders another reassuring squeeze and continued his pep talk. “You have come this far, don’t give up now. She will make it up to you one day, I promise.” Nigel believed his own words even if he was still waiting for his own redemption. “Now you will do what you do best. Go back in there and perform a sweet fucking miracle. I know you’ve got it in you.”
Emily nodded and Nigel watched the stiff upper lip return. “That’s my girl.”
His work here was done.
Andy had spent the morning with her physiotherapist, whom she had nicknamed Helga the Great. She was built like a tank and twice as intimidating. It was like arguing with a brick wall. Sadly, Andy had found this out the hard way.
After her daily torture session with Helga, Andy found the conversation with Miranda was still playing on her mind. The only thing competing with Miranda in Andrea’s mind was Eddie.
Daytime television would not do, she needed a heavier distraction. Time alone meant too much time left for thinking about things she just didn’t have answers to. The doubts and uncertainty that came with these impossible puzzles was something she didn’t want to deal with, but couldn’t escape either.
‘Why did Eddie do this? Why didn’t he come to see me at the hospital? Why hasn’t called? Should I call him?’
On reflection, Andy knew she had been foolish to ask Miranda why she did what she did and why she hadn’t told her the situation from the outset; it was her nature. What Eddie had done was simply unforgivable but also part of his nature. In many ways, they were both as stubborn as each other.
‘An outing in page six!’ Andy half chuckled to herself, the whole situation was beyond surreal. They had barely settled on their feelings for each other never mind revealing it to the entire world. She was suddenly grateful that they still hadn’t been able to contact her parents in Europe; her mother’s reaction didn’t bear thinking about. As for the article, did this mean she was fired or was it simply Eddie’s fucked up way of promoting her?
Her thoughts were running at a million miles a second and as usual, Miranda was leading the race. Andrea knew how she felt and what she wanted to say. The problem was whether Miranda was ready to hear it?
It was early evening when the silver Mercedes pulled up outside the townhouse. It had been a long challenging day for Miranda and as much as she was looking forward to seeing Andrea, she was feeling nervous about their promise to talk.
Miranda hung her coat in the hallway closet and listened to the sounds in the house. The extractor fan was on low in the kitchen; indicating that dinner was underway and there was a steady flow of radio chatter coming from the security walkie-talkie in the lounge. She found herself missing the thunderous rumble of footsteps and excited shouts that would normally greet her and she had a sudden urge to call the girls, despite having only spoken to them an hour before.
Ascending the stairs to her study, she found Andrea curled up asleep in the corner of the couch with an open book on her lap. Miranda stood at the entrance to the room watching her. The soft light from the table lamps danced across Andrea’s face and it reminded Miranda of the nights spent in the hospital, watching her sleep, listening to her breathing.
Andy stirred and opened her eyes, smiling brightly as soon as she saw Miranda in the room. “How ever did you manage to dispose of all those bodies and still be home for dinner?” Andy half yawned, stretching her sleepy muscles as much as her shoulder would allow.
Miranda arched a perfectly formed eyebrow and gestured towards Andy who was rubbing her sleepy eyes. “Hmmm, I can see that you have had a productive day.”
Andy couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped. “Why don’t I get you a drink and you can tell me all about your day?”
It was late evening when The Book arrived and the two women retired back to the study. Dinner had been pleasant; Miranda had of course played down the events of the day, giving Andrea only snippets of the chaos in her world outside the townhouse.
After reading the same line for at least the fourth time, Miranda knew that any attempt at focusing on The Book tonight was pointless. She took a deep sigh and put down her red pen. “Andrea, have you done this before?” She asked breaking the silence.
Andy looked up from the screen of her laptop and contemplated the question. “It depends what you mean by ‘this’? If you mean: Have I ever been shot and gone to live with my very attractive, older ex-boss? Then the answer is ‘no.’ However, If you mean: Have I ever been in a relationship with a woman, then I would also have to technically say no…”
“Andrea…” Miranda rolled her eyes in a spectacular fashion to demonstrate her impatience with Andrea’s rambling.
Andy got the hint. “I’ve had a few relationships in my life. The high school boyfriend, you know the one you promise to love forever, but as soon as college starts you realise he’s a meathead. Then there was Nate. We met in the last year of college. We became inseparable. He was my best friend and somehow it just evolved into a relationship. But, it wasn’t meant to be. Since Nate, I’ve had the usual string one-night stands, just meaningless sex. I’ve always been attracted to women but I guess I’ve always just found guys’ easier.”
“What happened with Nate?”
Miranda furrowed her brow in confusion at Andrea’s answer and urged her to explain.
“Back then I blamed it on Runway, on the job. I didn’t have time for him, for our life, but to be honest I think he knew it before I did. It was always you and it was only a matter of time before the house of cards that we called a relationship came tumbling down around us. It just took me a little longer to see it.” Andy left her seat on the couch and walked around the desk to Miranda’s side. “What are you thinking?”
Miranda rubbed her still furrowed brow. She had accepted her feelings for Andrea; she knew what they were and how good it felt. However, saying them aloud was a different matter. ‘The time is now.’ Miranda told herself. “I’m thinking that when I’m with you I feel happy and that it just feels right. But I’m still scared. For the first time in a very long time, I’m scared and I don’t know how to deal with it. There’s not just me to consider here and I would be foolish to think anything different. I don’t want to look like some kind of fool and I don’t want to break my heart over you. I…”
“Miranda, don’t forget that you were the brave one here, you made the move. Granted I was unconscious in a hospital bed, but…” Andy took Miranda’s hand and squeezed it tenderly, until Miranda looked her in the eyes. “I’ve tried so many times over the last two years to tell you how I feel and explain how you have remained in my heart. Two years is a long time. I couldn’t bear the fact that I’d hurt you and I know I did. Now I’ve tasted this, there's no going back for me.” Andy paused and cupped Miranda’s chin softly with her hand. “I’m not going anywhere and I would never leave you.”
“You already did.”
Andy sighed. “That was different.”
“Tell me Andrea. How was it different?” Miranda implored.
“I didn’t leave you, I left Runway.” She stated.
“I am Runway!”
“Ok, ok!” Andy, shook her head. She knew it was time for David to take on Goliath. “Enough of the God Complex, Miranda. I know exactly who you are.”
“And who might that be?” She challenged.
“Miranda, you are a ruthless and ridiculously successful business woman, with incredibly high standards; you give nothing but your best and expect nothing less in return. However, that is not all of you. Runway is not who you are. This week and in Paris I saw you, the kind, generous, and nurturing woman. You are a breath of fresh air to me and when I’m with you, I feel wonderful. When I’m in your arms I feel safe. Miranda…” Andy paused to summon the courage she needed to continue. “Can’t you see that I am in love with you?”
Miranda was at a loss for words. She wanted to spill all of her thoughts and feelings; she wanted them to run free like an open tap. Feeling love was one thing, saying it aloud was quite another. After several painful minutes of silence, she finally found her tongue. “It’s rare that anyone can render me speechless, but you seem to achieve it effortlessly.” She wrapped her arms around Andrea and whispered gently into her ear, the muted tones almost making it easier to say aloud. “When I’m with you it feels like lightning running through my veins. When I hold you, when you look at me the way you do, I want to tell you just how good it feels. There’s so much I want to say but I...”
Andy had not planned to tell Miranda that she loved her; it had just felt right in the moment. Miranda’s words made her heart dance, an unprecedented feeling of bliss ran through her body, trembling she pulled back from the embrace. “I know that this isn’t as simple as I’ve made it out to be.” She said stopping Miranda’s words. “There is a lot to consider, the girls, your career, my lack of one, the death threat hanging over my head and all this media madness. I’m not asking you to tell me what you think I want to hear. I just… before I get in this even deeper than I am already. I need to know that you are willing to try, because I just don’t think my heart could take losing you again.”
Miranda’s body craved the intimacy that Andrea could give her, the purity of desire that she longed to claim for her own. She had been numb for too long. Andrea’s words had opened the way for new beginnings and Miranda’s doubts and fears slipped away like sands in a tide.
Their lips met in a frenzied clash, sealing the promise of their words with action. Mouths parted, allowing tongues to swirl, lick, and taste as if starved.
Miranda’s hands gripped around Andrea’s back and snaked up into her hair, scraping her fingers teasingly across her scalp. Andrea broke the kiss and moved her lips along Miranda’s jaw line. Miranda couldn’t help the moan that escaped as teeth lightly nipped against her exposed throat.
Andy gently released the clasp on her support sling, freeing her arm and allowing her to wrap them both around Miranda and guide her backwards towards the desk. Miranda lifted herself on to the flat surface, wrapping her legs around Andrea’s hips, sealing their bodies tightly together. The kiss deepened and Andrea began to unbutton Miranda’s blouse.
Suddenly an unexpected orchestral blast of The Ride of the Valkyries filled the room as Miranda’s cell phone burst to life on the desk. The sudden interruption caused both women to jump and break apart.
Panting heavily and slightly disoriented, it took Miranda a couple of seconds to snap back into reality. The sound of Wagner meant one thing, the Twins.
Andy watched as Miranda fumbled with the call button. “Cassidy?” Miranda spoke softly into the receiver, but the tone changed immediately after the caller spoke. “Greg? Why are you calling from Cassidy’s cell phone? … Don’t be ridiculous! … Oh for heavens sake, this is none of your business… Of course, I am going to speak to them about it! Greg, I’m not willing to discuss this any further with you. I’ll call the girls in the morning. That’s all.”
“Do I even need to ask what that was about?” Andy asked.
Miranda shook her head and settled back next to Andy who was now leaning against the edge of the desk.
“Way to kill the mood, huh?” Andy asked sheepishly.
“He had a knack of doing that when we were married, why should I expect him to break the habit of a lifetime?”
Andy chuckled lightly but Miranda remained stone faced, deep in thought. “Are you ok?” Andy asked.
It had been a long, hard day and Miranda was exhausted. Before they were interrupted, they had been heading down a very clear path, one that she knew for certain she would not have been able to stop on her own. Miranda knew she wanted it. Every time she looked in Andrea’s eyes, she could see it, every time they were close to one another, she could feel it. The phone call had given her time to think and given enough time for all the insecurities to rush to surface, turning in circles in her mind.
Miranda moved to leave the room. “It’s late I think I’m going to go to bed.”
Andy grabbed Miranda’s wrist and pulled her back. “Miranda, did I do something wrong?”
Miranda released her wrist from the grip and took Andrea’s hand to stroke it gently. “Quite the opposite, you did exactly what I wanted you to do. I just need… I just…”
They had taken a massive step forward in the promises they had made to each other both spoken and unspoken. Andrea had felt it sink into her mind, skin and soul. “It’s ok, I understand.” Andy leaned over and kissed Miranda gently on the lips. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Shots rang out from behind her as she reached the edge of the car park, concrete shards sprayed off the building wall as she rounded the corner. Seeing the lights ahead of her, the beautiful stained glass windows fifty yards ahead, she felt another stab of pain seer through her body, throwing her to the ground. As the footsteps approached, growing louder with each step, she could hear the voice screaming.
“No, no, no…” It was her own voice.
Andy woke with a start; her heart was racing. She reached over to turn on the bedside lamp, wincing from the awkward stretch. It was dream, just a silly dream. Some how this reasoning didn’t make her feel any better.
The perils of living alone meant that she had counselled herself through bad dreams many times before this. Her usual method was late night television but even then, there were times where she had been left with no choice but to get up and go into the office, anything not to be alone anymore.
The images of that night in the deserted car park had not left her, the smell of the blood still coated the back of her throat, every time she over stretched her shoulder she heard the crack of the rifle replay in her head.
As she wiped the sweat from her brow, she knew that turning on the light and the television couldn’t help her tonight.
The gentle knock on her bedroom door snapped Miranda out of her ceiling-staring daze. Sleep had eluded her, but she was still startled by the sound. The door handle turned slowly and Miranda sat up in her bed.
“Andrea? Is everything… are you ok?” Andy’s silhouetted figure stood in the doorway, Miranda couldn’t see her face in the dim light but the headshake was definitely to the negative. Tapping the bed beside her, she beckoned her forward. “Come on.”
Andy’s bare feet padded on the wooden floor before reaching the lush rug around the bed. Miranda pulled back the cover inviting Andrea to climb in.
It had been longer than Miranda would care to admit since she had shared her bed with anyone and even longer since she had actually slept through the whole night. Tonight it was a question of wants and needs. Miranda did not want to spend the night alone and Andy needed to feel safe.
Lying in Miranda’s arms, Andy fell asleep within minutes.
Content with Andrea’s body wrapped around her, Miranda listened to her gentle breathing and followed her into slumber.
District Attorney Sharpe had not left her office for over twenty-four hours, not seen her son for nearly two days. She knew that moments like this should remind her why she did it and make it all worthwhile, but somehow it still tasted bitter sweet.
“Yes, Sir.” She confirmed into the phone receiver. “We got it. The forensics, blood analysis and ballistics are all stacked and ready to go. The boys in I.A have gone above and beyond with this one. We’ve got testimonies coming out the ying yang! ...Yes, Sir. I understand… Thank you, Sir. That’s excellent news!” She sighed as she placed the receiver back on to it’s cradle.
She knew that she should be feeling elated, euphoric, or at the very least satisfied with their achievements. Instead, she was left with a niggling feeling in the pit of her stomach, the kind you get when you know you’ve missed something.
The Sachs case had been playing on her mind for days. It all pointed to Corelli as the shooter, but he wasn’t talking and they didn’t have enough evidence to hold him. It was obvious that Corelli wasn’t in this alone. Her mind she full of unanswered questions. ‘Who had orchestrated the shooting? Why did they wait until O’Hanlon had exposed them before striking? Why had O’Hanlon gone to The Post and more importantly to Andrea Sachs?’ With all of these questions still open, she feared that they had barely uncovered the tip of the iceberg.
She could hide her head in the sand, they were virtually home and dry with the case and the Grand Jury date was set. However, it wasn’t in her nature. She couldn’t risk the defence uncovering something that could later blow a hole in the prosecution. Something unknown, Sharpe knew that the unknown was always the most dangerous thing in a courtroom.
There was only one thing left to do. Sharpe prepared to enter the dragon’s lair.