Vanished

“Take care of yourself.” He knew that when he wasn't busy, he would worry about her every moment. He followed her most of the way back to the house, and then watched as she ran up the street to the Patterson mansion. He took a cab then to his office.

And for the next two days, Marielle didn't hear from anyone. Malcolm went down to Washington to see the German ambassador and Brigitte went with him. Tom Armour had his hands full with polishing up his closing arguments and keeping Charles calm. He was a nervous wreck about what was going on, when Tom told him at least some of Louie's story. If he'd known all of it, Tom knew he'd have gone completely crazy. But he knew Louie had planted the bear and the pajamas. What he didn't know was that Louie might not be willing to testify, if the FBI wouldn't promise him amnesty and protection.

“But that proves I'm innocent,” he almost shouted at Tom.

“I know. But the guy has to be willing to come forward.”

“What's his name?” As though it mattered, but Tom Armour smiled.

“Louie the Lover.”

“Great. Just the kind of guy I need in my corner.”

“Listen, my friend, if he planted those pajamas and is willing to testify to that fact in court, he's exactly who you need in your corner.”

“How the hell did you find him?” Hope was beginning to dawn but he knew he wasn't out of the woods yet. A lot of things were going to have to happen right before he could be acquitted, and if Louie the Lips, or whatever his name was, disappeared, Charles was as good as dead, and he knew it.

“Actually, I got a hot tip in the middle of the night, from a friend of yours, or an admirer anyway.”

“Who's that?” Charles looked intrigued.

“Beatrice Ritter,” Tom said noncommittally.

“She's quite a girl, isn't she? Lots of spirit,” and then Charles looked pensive. “Sometimes she reminds me of Marielle when she was young. She was such a fireball then, so full of life and fun and mischief. I guess life kicked it out of her after that.” He looked sad. “Or maybe I did.” She was so serious now, so beautiful and kind, and so quiet. And yet there was a side of her that wanted to laugh and have a good time, and be happy again. Tom Armour could see it when he talked to her. “Do you think she'll ever recover from all this?” He asked Tom as though he knew her, but Charles had come to recognize that his attorney had a good instinct for people.

“I think she will. I don't think she'll ever be the carefree young girl of her youth that you describe, but few people are by the time they reach thirty. She'll get over it, but it'll still be there. She'll go on, because she's strong.” But he sighed then, she deserved a lot better than she'd gotten.

“How come you're so happy most of the time?” Charles teased him. They had become friends in the last four months, Charles respected Tom, and Tom liked him.

“Just stupid, I guess.” But he had had his share of tragedy too. He had told Charles early on, when Charles had told him about Andre. Tom had lost his wife and baby daughter ten years before in a car accident, right after he finished law school. Oddly enough, it was the same year Charles had lost Andre. And he had never remarried either. But he was crazy about his work, and he figured one day he would, when he had time …when he wasn't defending lunatics like Charles Delauney …when he felt brave enough to love someone again …but for Tom Armour, that time hadn't come yet.

Tom had a hell of a time keeping Charles distracted for two days and Charles kept asking Tom if there was any news from John Taylor. But there wasn't. Tom was anxious to hear from him himself, and he had only dared to call once, and was lucky enough to find him in the office. And Taylor sounded exhausted.

“Hell man, do you know what it's like to tear apart sixteen ships? We've torn up the whole fucking port, what do you mean ‘Hurry up’?” And they had asked for the same cooperation from the Port Authority in New Jersey, but it was easier for them. All they had in port at the moment were tankers. But Manhattan was a snakepit, and all the foreign ships were furious to be searched, until they heard what it was about, then they were a little more willing to cooperate, but not much. The news of Teddy's kidnapping was old, and in spite of the trial, people had already begun to forget, and stop caring. And the inconvenience of a major search, with all it involved, was monumental. They had even checked out the Europa, which Malcolm was sailing on later, but it was clean. And the Germans had been highly annoyed to have their ship searched.

“I told you. I'll call you if we get anything. I haven't been in my office since last night, and I only came in to take a shower because I couldn't stand myself anymore. You got any complaints, Mr. Armour?” Taylor was sharp, but Tom knew he didn't mean any harm, he was just tired.

“No complaints, just a nervous client.”

“Tell him to keep his pants on. We're doing our best. And will you do me a favor?” He hesitated and then decided to ask him.