Page 92 of In A Faraway Land
“Yes, ma’am. I haven’t seen Pierre Grimaldi for over nine weeks,and I’m sure. I’m sure,twice.”
“Excellent. If this prenup weren’t so nailed down, I’d give you that palace in Monaco. As it is, however, I’m directing your attorneys to prepare the decree with the conditions as laid forth in this contract. Unless you’d like to invoke the penalties for him contesting the divorce?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Too bad. I might have had some fun with those.”
“I’d rather thisbe handled quickly, if it’s possible,” Flicka said.
“May it please the court, Most Honorable Madam,” Joachim Blanchard said, standing and holding a piece of paper.
Flicka thought Joachim was laying it on kind of thick, but this was not a judge to piss off.
Her lawyer continued, “We have prepared a decree of divorce with the conditions exactly as stated in the prenuptial agreement.”
Judge Malonestared at him. “Bring the decree forward.”
Joachim approached the bench and gingerly handed her the paperwork as if she might snap his arm off.
She adjusted her reading glasses and leafed through the paperwork, apparently spot-checking clauses. “You stipulate this is exactly as stated in the prenuptial contract?”
“Yes, Most Honorable Madam,” he said, nearly cowering. “We do stipulate.”
“Allright.” She plucked a pen from the set at the front of her podium. “I’ll sign it. The decree of divorce is hereby granted, effective immediately.”
“No!” Pierre shouted, standing. “I won’t allow it! You have no right!”
“Contempt of court. Twenty-four hours remand.” Without looking up, the judge flicked her hand in Pierre’s general direction. “Bailiff.”
Bailiffs led His Serene Highness PrincePierre Grimaldi out of the courtroom while he shouted threats at the judge.
Four burly men wearing black business suits followed him out.
After the heavy wooden doors at the back of the courtroom cut off Pierre’s tantrum, Judge Malone looked over the frames of her half-glasses at Flicka. “I like to read the magazines, and I recognize you. It only lasted six months, did it?”
“Yes, ma’am,” Flickasaid.
The judge signed the decree of divorce and handed the paper to Joachim, who scurried back to Flicka’s table, clutching it to his chest. He passed one set of papers to Flicka, and she shoved them in her purse.
The judge asked, “Why?”
Flicka glanced downward. “Is this a matter of public record?”
“No. The decree is granted, and the trial is over.”
“He has another family. He married anotherwoman in a church several years ago but not legally, and they have four children together.”
“You could get this annulled for bigamy.”
“There’s no legal documentation at all. The lawyers looked for it. As far as Monaco is concerned, if it’s not legal, it’s not real.”
The judge nodded and scowled, her lips thinned. “That’s a problem. Proving bigamy would have taken longer. Divorce was quicker.”
“When I found out, he beat me up, he assaulted me, and he tried to kill me. He said he would lock me up in Monaco as his prisoner.”
Judge Malone didn’t flinch. “And since?”
“He’s tried to kidnap me at least twice.”
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