Vanished (29 page)

“Do you feel that way now?” Tom asked her quietly, as several jurors blew their noses.

“No,” she said sadly.

“Do you believe Teddy is still alive?”

Her eyes filled with tears again, but she went on, “I don't know … I hope he is … I hope it so much …” She looked at the press then and into the courtroom. “… If anyone knows where he is …please, please bring him home … we will do anything …just don't hurt him …”A photographer ran up, and a camera exploded in her face as she said it, and the judge ordered the bailiff to throw the photographer out of the courtroom.

“And if anyone does that again, you'll go to jail, is that clear?” Judge Morrison boomed as Marielle regained her composure. He apologized to her, and she waited for Tom's next question.

“Do you believe that Charles Delauney took your son?” It was a dangerous question, but he wanted the world to know what she thought because he didn't think she was convinced that he took him.

“I'm not sure.”

“Do you think he would do a thing like that? You know him better than anyone here. He has loved you, and hurt you, and cried with you …he's even hit you … he has probably done worse things to you than to anyone he knows.” Charles had admitted that to Tom himself, and yet what Marielle had told Tom of him told him that Marielle did not believe him guilty. “Knowing what you do of him, Mrs. Patterson, do you believe that he took Teddy?”

She hesitated for an eternity, and then finally shook her head and dropped her face into her hands, and Tom Armour waited.

“Are you still in love with this man, Mrs. Patterson?”

She looked at Charles sadly. What terrible things had come to them. What misery they had shared, and yet long ago, they had been so happy. “No,” she said softly. “I love him. I probably always will. He was the father of my children. I loved him very much when I was young …but now … I am only sad for him, and if he has done this terrible thing, then I hope he returns my son safely. But I am not in love with him anymore. We've caused each other too much pain for too long.” Tom Armour nodded, and he respected her more than she knew. She was one hell of a terrific woman. She had held up under questioning, shared her guts, her life, her soul, she had lost two children to the hands of fate, and now one more, and she was still standing. He admired her more than anyone he had ever met, but nothing showed in his face as he went on with his questions.

“Have you had an affair with Mr. Delauney since your marriage to Mr. Patterson?”

“No,” she said calmly.

“Have you had an affair with anyone? Have you
ever
been unfaithful to your husband?” He looked her straight in the eye, and as her eyes met his, they did not waver.

“No, I have not.” It was true. She had kissed John Taylor but that was all, and by now her marriage was over.

“Thank you, Mrs. Patterson, you may step down. I have no further questions.” He helped her from the stand, and, feeling drained, she went back to sit down, but she didn't have the beaten feeling she'd had when she'd been interrogated by Bill Palmer.

Tom called Haverford to the stand next, their butler. He described her as decent, fair, and intelligent, a woman of integrity, and a true lady, he said proudly, which touched her. He said she'd been wonderful to her son, and he, Haverford, had always been shocked by how badly she was treated by Mr. Patterson's servants. It was as though everyone felt they owed nothing to her, and only to Mr. Patterson. Haverford himself felt that Mr. Patterson never stood behind her. He acted as though she was not in charge, and simply a guest, and that was how she was regarded. He said Miss Griffin had been abominable to her, the housekeeper was worse, and Edith stole her clothes, and everyone, including Mr. Patterson, knew it. He said that all of the servants ridiculed her in the kitchen.

“Are you saying there was no respect for Mrs. Patterson in her own home?” Tom Armour pressed him, to make sure the jury understood it.

“I am, sir,” Haverford said, looking dignified in a dark suit that had been tailored for him in London.

“Would you say that her own behavior led to that attitude, Mr. Haverford? Is she, as has been suggested in this courtroom earlier, an irresponsible, weak woman, essentially without merit?” The old butler bristled visibly at the suggestion, thinking Tom had misunderstood him.

“What I said, sir, is that she is one of the finest people I've ever known. She is wise, kind, fair, decent, good, and after what she's been through, I don't see how anyone can call her a weak woman.” It was Miss Griffin who had had the vapors and fainting spells, and had to have tablets prescribed by her doctor, ever since the kidnapping.

“Would you venture an opinion as to why no one in the Patterson household respected her then? Was there any logical reason?” Bill Palmer started to object, and then decided it wasn't worth the trouble. The old man was harmless.

Haverford nodded, anxious to tell the jury. “Mr. Patterson let us know early on that …”he tried to remember the exact words, but couldn't “…she wasn't all there, well, not precisely that. But he told us she was very frail and very nervous. And he implied that her orders were to be listened to politely, but basically disregarded. Said she didn't know anything about running a house, and later, about children. That let all of us know where she stood with Mr. Malcolm.” It led Marielle to know it too, as she listened. But she still didn't understand why he had done it. He had made her an object of disdain and ridicule right from the beginning. Maybe he just wanted to keep control of everything, and there had never been a real place for her in his house, except as Teddy's mother, and even at that, they hardly let her be useful.

“Were you aware of Mr. Patterson's affair with Miss Sanders?” Tom asked him then.

“I was, or at least I suspected it,” Haverford said with an air of frigid disapproval.

“Did you ever mention your suspicions to Mrs. Patterson?”

“Certainly not, sir.”

“Thank you, Mr. Haverford.” Tom offered his witness to the prosecution, but Bill Palmer chose not to ask him any questions. He didn't consider him of any importance. But Marielle had been touched by his testimony, and so had the jury.

She felt avenged somehow after what he'd said. But it was embarrassing to hear it all spelled out, and also comforting to realize that what she'd felt was real and not delusions. What she still didn't understand was why Malcolm had undermined her with everyone. There had to be a reason. Or was it that he'd been in love with Brigitte almost since the beginning? Was he trying to get rid of Marielle? Did he hope she'd run away, or just give up and leave Teddy with him? She would have died first. But why humiliate her, lie to her, cheat on her? Why bother to marry her in the first place? Had it all been a lie from the beginning? But remembering their sweet, early days, she couldn't believe that.

The next witness Tom called to the stand was Brigitte Sanders. And there was a considerable stir in the courtroom as she came forward. She was a beautiful girl, there was no denying that, and there was an air of definite sexuality about her, more than Marielle had ever noticed before. Perhaps it was because she had nothing to hide now. Their secret was exposed, and in some ways, Brigitte seemed proud of it. She wore a sleek black dress, and Marielle noticed that it looked expensive. Her hair was perfectly coifed in the familiar bob, and she wore the usual bright red nails and lipstick. And everyone agreed that she was very striking. She made Marielle feel like a small brown wren in comparison, but what she didn't understand was how cold Brigitte seemed, how calculating, and how hard she seemed to everyone in the courtroom in comparison to Marielle. Tom Armour thought she was unbearably German in her manner. And there was an insolent tone to her voice as she answered his questions. It was a style Marielle had never seen her use before, and she wondered if she was feeling defensive, now that the secret was out, and she'd been exposed to the whole world as Malcolm's mistress.

She admitted that Malcolm spent most of his evenings with her, and some nights, and said that he had never been happy with his wife, and he had married her only to have children. What she said gave Marielle a jolt, and she wondered if it was true. Was that it then?

“She couldn't even do that easily,” Brigitte said with derision. Gone the warmth, the concern, the Kindness she had always shown Marielle, and Teddy. She was ready to tell all, and Malcolm looked strained as he watched her.

“Would you care to explain that last remark, Miss Sanders?” Tom asked politely.

“It took her a long time to get pregnant.” Tom Armour refrained from suggesting that perhaps Mr. Patterson was spending too many nights at her apartment. “In fact, he was so tired of waiting, that he was thinking of divorcing her right around the time she got pregnant.” There was a murmur in the crowd, and Marielle cast her eyes to the floor, as the judge rapped his gavel. She could feel herself blush, as she sat next to John Taylor. He didn't move, or say anything, but he felt sorry for her, knowing how private she was, and how discreet. This couldn't have been easy for her.

“Were you already involved with Mr. Patterson then?” Tom Armour asked Brigitte, but for a long moment she didn't answer. “Should I repeat the question? May I remind you that you're under oath?”

“Yes, I was,” she said a little less brashly.

“When exactly did that begin?” Marielle held her breath, she was curious now, as they waited for the answer.

“Two months after they were married. In February.” And Marielle thought she knew when. It was the first business trip he had taken without her. He hadn't waited long. And it was then that he had become particularly chilly. She had thought for a while that it was his disappointment because she wasn't pregnant, but he was already under Brigitte's spell, and apparently he had stayed there.

“Weren't you very angry that he was married to her, and not to you?”

“No, I …” She looked vaguely discomfited by his questions. “I knew he wanted a child, and he …Malcolm …Mr. Patterson …has always been very generous with me.” So they'd heard. Tom didn't press her about why he wanted Marielle's baby and not Brigitte's. He asked her instead if Malcolm had promised to marry her if he divorced Marielle, and she hedged by saying that they had never discussed it, which Tom thought was unlikely. It was obvious that something had been said, as she glanced at Malcolm.

She explained that they traveled everywhere together, particularly to Germany, where Mr. Patterson did a lot of business. She said it did not embarrass her to be his mistress. But she said it with a defiant air, and Tom Armour was not completely sure that he believed her.

She said that she was very fond of the child, and Malcolm adored him, that it had almost killed him when the boy was kidnapped. She also said that she hardly ever saw Marielle with the child. “She was always in bed with a headache.” She had the same unpleasant, disrespectful tone that the servants had used when talking about Marielle. Not one of them, except Haverford, had spoken of her kindly.

Brigitte left the stand with a great show of legs and a good swing of her behind as she walked past Malcolm, and he looked away and pretended not to notice. And after that, for almost a week, the proceedings got back to normal. More forensic experts were called, more detectives. No fingerprints had been found at the scene, no evidence that could be tied to Charles, only the pajamas and the toy found at his house, and Tom Armour maintained that they could easily have been planted. No one at the Delauney home had seen the boy, and Charles's alibi for the night of the kidnapping was airtight. It was difficult to pin on him, and finally, at the end of the fourth week of the trial, he took the stand, and as he walked to the witness box, there was not a sound in the courtroom.

Charles Delauney looked gaunt and serious as he solemnly took the oath and promised to tell the truth, glanced nervously at the jury. Tom Armour had already walked him through everything, and he had tried to warn him of every possible pitfall.

Tom asked him where he had been for the past eighteen years, while he lived in Europe. He explained that he had lived in France for years, and for the past several years Spain, while he fought against Franco.

“Did you serve in the Great War too, Mr. Delauney?” Tom asked and Charles said he had. He looked very handsome and very pale and suddenly much older than he had when Marielle had seen him in Saint Patrick's. It had been a hellish four months for him, ever since he'd been arrested. And his attorney had just told him his father was fading fast, to add to his problems. “How old were you when you volunteered?”

“I was fifteen.”

Tom nodded approvingly. “And were you wounded in the service of your country?”

“Yes, at Saint-Mihiel. And after that, I came back here to go to school for three years. But I went back to Europe in 1921. I went to Oxford, and Italy for a while, and then I moved to Paris.”

“Is that where you met your wife, the current Mrs. Patterson?”

“That's right.” He glanced at her and in spite of himself he smiled, and she looked so worried. She wasn't sure what she wanted to happen anymore. She wanted justice for him, and her little boy, and she wasn't sure which, if either of them, would get it. “I met her in 1926. She was eighteen, and we were married at the end of that summer.”

“Did you love her, Mr. Delauney?” Tom looked at him as though it were an important question. “Did you love your wife?”

“Yes … I loved her very much …she was so young …she was wonderful …like a bright, beautiful spirit. Everything was new and exciting to her …” His mind drifted for a moment and then he looked at Tom apologetically and spoke very softly. “We were very happy.”

“And you had a baby?”

Charles nodded. “A little boy …Andre …we'd been married for almost a year when he was born. He was very special.” All children were, Marielle thought to herself …Teddy was too …they all were.

“Would you say you were extremely close to the child?”

“Yes.”

“Unusually so?”

“Perhaps. The three of us were together all the time. We traveled quite a bit, and I was writing, and at home. Marielle was wonderful with him. She took care of him entirely herself.”