Beauty and the Beast (10 page)

Vincent was again relieved, “I’m glad she is wearing hers.” Vincent put his ring on. “I’m really glad, Father,

that you did that for her.” He got up and gave Father an hug and a kiss. “It says on the marriage certificate that we were married by Kevin Chin. Was it a beautiful ceremony?”

Father smiled as he remembered, “I think it was the most beautiful ceremony we’ve ever had. Everyone was shedding tears of joy, because we had all wanted this for you and Catherine for so long. You wouldn’t believe the happy chaos that ensued when you came to me and told me that the two of you wanted to be married!”

Vincent sat back down in one armchair, and Father settled in the other one, “Tell me about it, Father.”

Father told him the story. “You came to me on a Wednesday late in the September before this past one and asked to be married in a simple no-fuss ceremony on the last Saturday in September, just three days away. Well, the whole community was up-in-arms over that and wouldn’t hear of a simple anything! It was complete mayhem for those three days while they converted this Council chamber into a gorgeous wedding chapel. There were flowers and fancy candles everywhere, and everyone dressed in their finest. You looked magnificent in your ruffled shirt—”

Vincent finished, “and black velvet vest.”

Father looked at him in surprise, “You do remember!” Vincent shook his head. “No, Father, I dreamed about what we were wearing just before I came here. That was why I asked you about whether we were married. The

dream was so real.”

Father went on, “Catherine wore her mother’s wedding gown, and it was truly lovely.”

Vincent asked, “Did it have natural pearls sewn onto

it?”

Father raised his eyebrows, “It did, indeed!”

Suddenly, Mouse ran in the door and swung with both hands on the opposite handrails down the entry stairs all out of breath. He paused for a second until his breathing slowed. Mouse always looked like a wild man with his disheveled light-brown hair and his ungainly gait. No one, including Mouse, knew exactly how old he was, because he couldn’t speak when Vincent captured him pilfering food as a child. Their best guess was that he was now in his early twenties. He employed only the simplest of speech to communicate even after growing up in the tunnels and being tutored by Vincent. All of this together, to an outsider, would have given him the appearance of not being very bright. Only his adoptive family below was aware of the brilliant engineer’s mind hiding under that very unlikely exterior.

“Looking for Jamie!” Mouse exclaimed unceremoniously.

Vincent smiled at him. “She has been looking for you, too! She said to tell you that she has gone down to her chamber, and she wants you to come and see her. She says that she is anxious to see the new crossbow Samantha told her you were making.”

Mouse looked crestfallen, “Supposed to be a surprise! OK good! OK fine! Take the express chute down!” He turned around to go, and then turned back around and gave them a silly grin, “Faster!” Then he was running out the door.

Father looked quizzically at Vincent and chuckled,

“The express chute?”

Vincent explained, “Catherine told me about Mouse’s express chute after she accidentally discovered it. Remember when you and I were trapped in the cave that collapsed, when we went to retrieve Eric after he sprained his ankle when the children were exploring The Maze?” Father nodded, “How can I forget? We nearly died in that cave. We should have sealed off The Maze long before that. The children didn’t realize that the ground water had weakened the walls. I was so thankful we managed to send the children out before the rockslide occurred and trapped us.”

Vincent went on, “Well, Catherine’s empathic connection to me worked in reverse that time. She felt the danger I was in and came to the Central Park secret door. She tapped on the pipes, but no one came, because everyone was in that lower passageway trying to dig us out. So, she braved trying to find me without an escort. She got lost and then came across the gated entry where Mouse had installed his express chute to his chamber, which as you know, is below all of the rest of our sleeping chambers. She thought the lion’s-head lever was to open

the gate, but when she pulled it, she dropped through the tunnel floor right onto Mouse’s bed. That was how she first met Mouse and Jamie. Remember, we had imposed the month of silence as punishment for Mouse, because we couldn’t get him to understand that simply because the world above has more than one of something, it can’t be taken to use down here?”

Father grimaced, “I do remember. We were all heartbroken to do that, you most of all, but that was far better than what Mouse would have suffered had he been caught in that warehouse where he tripped the alarm.” Vincent went on with the story. “You are right. Anyway, when we were trapped in the cave-in with limited oxygen, Jamie had taken it upon herself to break the silence and went to find Mouse to help get us out. When Catherine dropped through the ceiling onto Mouse’s bed, and then demanded that they take her to me, the two of them brought her to the collapsed cave. That was the first time we received help from Elliott Burch. He didn’t know who it was that Catherine was so desperate to help, but he accepted her insistence that she couldn’t tell him, and he didn’t put a price tag on the aid he gave her. Catherine gave Elliott Mouse’s list, and he gave her the drill bits and explosives that Mouse needed to rescue us.”

Father spoke up at that point. “Speaking of Elliott Burch, Peter contacted me, and told me that Elliott Burch left Little Jacob a five-million-dollar insurance policy. Did Elliott say anything to you about that?”

Vincent settled back into his chair, and shook his head as the memory came back. “I had completely forgotten about that conversation! I stayed with Elliott until he died, after Gabriel blew up the Compass Rose with the two of us on it. I managed to pull Elliott out of the water and up onto the bank, and as he was dying, he told me about that policy. He said that he had originally set it up with his father as the beneficiary, but when his father was killed, he changed the beneficiary to Catherine. After she was killed, and I told him about her child, he changed it again for the baby. I was so badly injured myself, I guess it just left my mind. Money is so unimportant to us down here. Elliott really redeemed himself in the end.”

Father added, “Well, Peter is Catherine’s executor of her will, and between that five-million-dollar policy, and the over-eleven-million-dollar estate she left us, no one down here or our Helpers above will ever have to do without anything ever again!”

Vincent stared at him. “I knew Catherine’s family was wealthy, but I had no idea Catherine’s estate was worth that much! She certainly didn’t live like it was.”

Father relayed what Peter had said, “Judging by the state of her financial affairs, it was obvious that wasn’t important to her anymore. Peter had his own financial advisor clean up her portfolio, so it is now producing healthy returns again.”

Vincent smiled sadly, “Catherine always wanted to do

more for us, and I always told her that giving of herself was more than enough. I guess she found a way to be sure we would always be well cared for.” Vincent stood up. “I had better let you get to bed now. Good night, Father.”

“Good night, Vincent.” Vincent leaned over and gave Father a kiss, picked up the marriage certificate, and left for his own chamber.

When Vincent arrived in his chamber, Brooke was still happily rocking Little Jacob, who was now fed and content. “Thank you, Brooke. He looks completely spoiled!”

Brooke knew he was teasing, but she just had to scold him, “Vincent, you know that you can’t spoil a baby with too much love!”

Vincent chuckled, “I’m relieved to hear it! Let me take him now, and you go on to bed.” She got up, and he took his child from her.

She gave the baby a kiss. “Good night, Vincent.”

“Good night, Brooke,” Vincent replied.

After Brooke left, Vincent picked up a volume of Kipling’s Jungle Book from a shelf and settled comfortably on the rocking chair. He read to Little Jacob until the baby had fallen asleep, and then he rose, kissed him, and laid him in his bassinet.

When Vincent settled onto his bed, a powerful vision overtook him.

He was in the white mist again, but this time he heard Catherine crying. He walked through the thick mist toward the sound until he broke out of it and saw her chained to a large oak tree in a clearing. She was sitting under the tree, with one wrist chained to the tree, and she was sobbing. She looked up as he ran toward her, and she appeared as surprised to see him as he was to find her. “Oh, Vincent, I thought I would never see you again!”

Vincent dropped to his knees beside her and took her in his arms. “I’m here now, sweet Catherine!” With brute strength he broke the chain around her wrist, stood up, and picked her up in his arms.

Catherine wrapped her arms around Vincent’s neck and buried her face in his mane of hair. “I thought I had to be chained here forever, because I didn’t tell you that I was pregnant before I was kidnapped, and our baby was stolen.”

Vincent comforted her. “Never mind that now. Our son is safe. I’m taking you home.” He walked away from the tree through the mist and saw light beginning to appear in front of him.

Catherine sounded drowsy. “Vincent, I’m so tired. I can’t stay awake! I love you.”

Suddenly, Vincent was alone as Catherine evaporated from his arms. He let out a roar of heartbreaking frustration which Father heard all the way over in his chamber. Miraculously, the baby slept through it.

Vincent was now wide awake again. He got up and went to a remote corner of his chamber. From behind a large cabinet he pulled out an huge painting and took the cover off it. It was a spectacular portrait of him and Catherine. He sat on the end of his bed and stared at it for quite some time.

After a while, Father appeared in Vincent’s doorway looking very worried. “Vincent, are you all right?”

Vincent looked up, startled out of his reverie. “Father, I am so sorry! I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Father came in and sat down on the rocking chair. “Everyone has been telling me about this rocker. It truly is wonderful, isn’t it?” Vincent was staring at the portrait again and didn’t hear what Father said. Father watched him for a few minutes and then asked, “Tell me what has you so absorbed and distracted, Vincent.”

Vincent finally looked at him and said, “I’m sorry, Father. I’m just trying to figure out what Catherine needs for me to find or do. Ever since her death, I’ve heard her voice everywhere I go. I have visions and dreams about her, and it is very confusing. I often see her face very

clearly, with her eyes closed in death, which is the way I had to leave her in her apartment.”

Suddenly, Father realized what was happening to Vincent, and he barely managed to hide his surprise as well as his relief that Catherine’s breast milk was having the effect they had hoped for. Peter had been sending a bottle of Catherine’s pumped breast milk for Little Jacob, down into the tunnels every couple of hours, with the changing shifts of women in the community who had been caring for Catherine. What Vincent was seeing was Catherine with her eyes closed in deep sleep, not death.

All Vincent needed was more time. “That is the portrait that Kristopher Gentian painted, isn’t it?” Father asked Vincent.

Vincent looked back at the painting. “Yes, it is. These visions and dreams I’ve been having about Catherine, and also hearing her voice, made me think of the time when Kristopher’s ghost visited Catherine and me. He needed for us to find his paintings in that remote warehouse, where they were hidden away, so others could enjoy them. He also left this portrait for Catherine, painted long before he died. He had never even met us while he was alive.

“Catherine had gone into the antique book store of Kristopher’s friend, Jonathan Smythe, to look for a gift for me. She was trying to find a first edition book of poetry. Kristopher handed her a first edition book of poetry by Tennyson from his own library with his name on the plate inside the cover. She wouldn’t believe Jonathan Smythe

when he answered her inquiries about Kristopher, and he told her that he had identified Kristopher’s body himself when the artist froze to death two years earlier. She thought it was just a ploy to make Kristopher’s paintings more valuable.

“When we finally did find all of his paintings in an abandoned warehouse, this one was among them, carefully wrapped, with Catherine’s name attached to it. We were both led to that warehouse by Kristopher. He led Catherine in person, and he led me through a powerful dream I had about him. Catherine and I ended up there together. This was a prophetic painting, as he imagined us while he was alive, and Catherine had an hard time grasping that possibility. She had to accept it when I pointed out that it was an oil portrait that would have taken months or even years to dry completely, so that it could not have been painted during the mere days Kristopher had known us. Catherine has to be reaching out to me from beyond the grave like Kristopher did. I just wish I could figure out what she needs.”

Father thought silently to himself, “She just needs for love to awaken you, so you can awaken her.”

Chapter III Satan’s Minions

When Diana walked through the door of the District Attorney’s main office, she observed the usual chaos going on. There were numerous desks of both attorneys and paralegals, all piled with paperwork. Some of those desks even had attorneys and paralegals seated on top of them as they talked with their colleagues. The sound of printers and copiers was noisy enough, but the din of everyone talking into phones, to each other, or to victims as they took depositions made Diana wonder how anyone could think clearly here. Visits to this office to talk to Joe always made her grateful that she was allowed to work at her loft. She picked her way around everyone and headed for the office in the back corner. It was painted with the words, “District Attorney Joseph Maxwell.” She opened the door, stepped inside, closed the door, and then leaned with her back against it. She was thankful that Joe’s office was sound-proof.