Teddy. “Thank God you found the boy,” he intoned, almost piously, but his eyes were dry, and Taylor could see that he was angry. He tried to take the boy from Marielle, but the boy wouldn't let go of his mother.
“They said Mommy was dead,” he said, still looking terrified.
“They must have been terrible people,” Malcolm said with an odd expression. And at that moment, John Taylor asked Malcolm to join him in the judge's chambers.
The court had been cleared by then, and only the two attorneys, the defendant, Marielle, the child, the jury, and the countless FBI men remained in the courtroom. The judge had gone with Malcolm and John Taylor to his chambers. Marielle had no idea what was going on between them, but she sat talking quietly to Charles and Tom, and there was a feeling of peace and well-being in the room that she had never sensed in her entire lifetime. Two of the FBI men had gone out to get Teddy an ice-cream cone, and he was eating it happily while holding tightly to his mother. And she sat there holding him, feeling as though he had never left her. The last months shrank into the mists of the nightmare from whence they had come, never to return again. Teddy was home, safe and sound. After four months, and by the grace of God, and John Taylor, and maybe even Louie the Lover, Teddy was back with his mother.
It was a long time before Malcolm and the judge and John emerged, and when they did, Malcolm's mouth was set in a thin line. John had had two interesting calls from his office. There was still a great deal they didn't know, but what they did know was that the kidnappers, or at least the three people holding him on the ship, had been hired by Malcolm. There was no doubt of it now. They were even carrying papers to prove it and they had a false passport for the child that had allegedly been provided by Malcolm. It said the boy's name was Theodore Sanders.
“That's absurd,” he had said instantly, moments after the call came. “They're trying to implicate me in something I have nothing to do with.” He looked outraged, and reminded Taylor instantly of his connections.
“They used your name, Mr. Patterson,” John said quietly. “And no one else's. You'll have every opportunity to identify them, and to defend yourself. We'll have to talk about this. But we're going to do it in my office. A lot of money has changed hands, a lot of people have committed crimes here while on your payroll. And if nothing else, I think you're looking at charges of conspiracy and extortion. Not to mention whatever civil matter may arise on the part of Mr. Delauney.” Taylor did not look amused, nor did Malcolm.
The judge looked shocked. It was impossible to believe the man had kidnapped his own son, or hired criminals to do it. Why would he ever do it? But that was up to the FBI to find out. He had a jury to send home, and an innocent man to release. At least it appeared that way. It didn't seem as though Delauney was the kidnapper after all, and the child was back unharmed. It was certainly a step in the right direction.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” the judge spoke solemnly to the very confused members of the jury. “It would appear that we have a miscarriage of justice here. Or we would have had, if we had gone any further. It would appear, at this time, that Charles Delauney is innocent of the crime he has been accused of. Pending further investigation, I am going to release him at this time, and I am going to send you home to your families. We are going to ask Mr. Delauney not to leave the city, and we will notify you if this case is indeed dismissed, which I believe it will be. We thank you for everything you have done here, for your good faith and your time.” He nodded and they stood up, looking as though they were going to run from the courtroom. But they all managed to smile at Marielle, and a few wished Charles good luck. One of the women stopped to kiss Teddy.
“I am releasing you, Mr. Delauney, without bail, with the understanding that you will not leave the city of New York until this matter is settled. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.” Charles looked as though the weight of the world had been lifted from his shoulders.
“And I'll wait to hear from you, Mr. Taylor,” the judge said to John as his agents led Malcolm away without handcuffs. Malcolm said not a single word to Marielle as he left, and he had barely spoken to Teddy. John stayed behind to take Marielle and Teddy home, and Tom was smiling at his client.
“You're a free man. Would you like a lift home?”
“I'd like that a lot,” he said to his lawyer. “I'm glad he's back,” he said softly to Marielle… “I couldn't stand your losing him too. You don't deserve that.” He kissed her gently on the cheek then and they looked at each other for a long moment. “I'll always love you,” he said, as Teddy stared at him, and Marielle nodded. She would always love him too, but she had nothing left to give to him. She had given it all a long time ago, and now all she had left was for Teddy.
“Come on, I'll take you home,” John said quietly, as he put an arm around her shoulders, and slowly they walked out of the courtroom, as Charles watched them go. Tom took him home a few minutes after that, and Bea Ritter was waiting for them outside on the steps of the courthouse. When she had seen Marielle walk in, flanked by FBI men, she had known that something incredible had happened. She had sat on the steps, crying as she waited.
“I owe you a hell of a lot,” Charles said to her, almost shyly. “You and Tom were the only ones who believed in me. And for a while there it was pretty rough going.” She nodded gratefully, and he gave her a warm hug, and then he drove home with Tom, who dropped him off at the Delauney mansion. The old butler who had worked there for forty years almost fainted when he saw him. The papers were filled that night with the tales of Teddy being found on a German ship, by FBI agents allegedly carrying machine guns.
And by the next morning, Charles Delauney was a free man. At eight o'clock that morning, Judge Morrison had officially dismissed the case of the U.S. against Charles Delauney. With the evidence gathered the night before, Tom Armour had called the judge at home to ask him to sign the order. And by then, John Taylor had enough evidence to bury Malcolm. It was a complicated tale, and his supporters would find it difficult to believe, but he had hired the cream of the underworld to kidnap his own son and paid them a fortune to do it. Over a million dollars had changed hands to keep the boy hidden until the pressure had eased up, and he could be gotten out of the country. And finally, a German team had been brought in, handpicked and carefully trained, to spirit him back to the country where Malcolm was planning to make his home with Brigitte.
He had planned it for a long time, almost as soon as the child was born. By then he already knew he had made a mistake marrying Marielle and not Brigitte. Marielle was distinguished, dignified, decent, and kind, and in many ways, she was the perfect wife. But it was Brigitte he longed for, Brigitte who excited him, Brigitte he wanted to make his life with, except for the fact that she couldn't have children.
The idea had come slowly at first, then they had only talked of a divorce. Marielle was too gentle for him, too frightened, too marked by her past. He had liked the fact that she had no other ties, when he married her, but in time, he felt her dependency on him as a burden. And in contrast to her, Brigitte was everything she was not, she was sharper, harder, more demanding, and totally independent. She made demands on Malcolm which terrified him, particularly when she threatened to leave him. But he had dragged his feet about the divorce, because he didn't want to leave Teddy. He had thought of suing for custody, but that was so involved, and unsure. And finally, Brigitte had suggested they just move to Germany, and take the boy with them. It was then that Malcolm had taken the plan several steps further. If the boy was presumed dead, eventually everyone would stop looking for him, including his mother.
And if, eventually, he married his secretary, and adopted her child in Germany, who would know? Who would question it? It would seem perfectly natural that he would try to ease the pain of his loss. And who would even suspect it was really Teddy? After a year or two of keeping him well hidden in Germany, he would seem like a German child. It was an ingenious plan, and it would certainly have gotten rid of Marielle forever. But it had used countless people in the process, Charles, Marielle, the child, the people who had kidnapped the boy, those who had hidden him. A lot of people had suffered, and would suffer now, because of Malcolm. It almost made the judge sick when he heard it. And John Taylor wanted to kill him.
The plan was beautifully thought out. And Malcolm had already begun moving large blocks of his assets to Europe. No one seemed to have noticed it, because he had so many investments there. But he was planning to move to Germany within the year, with Brigitte.
Brigitte had been well paid too, for her complicity, to the tune of half a million U.S. dollars, which had been deposited for her in Berlin. And his other minions had been paid well too. It was a plan that had cost him a fortune. But to Malcolm it was a fortune well spent. What he wanted was to get rid of Marielle, have the boy to himself, and bring him up German. He had had it with America, he said. It was Hitler who was going to rule the world, Hitler, the only man who knew how to run a country. All his efforts and interests and passion, and
