“She certainly seems to care about him. Whenever I've talked to her, she seems so determined to convince me.”

“I know.” John shook his head, finishing his coffee. “He could do a lot worse. He needs all the help he can get, and a little positive press won't hurt him. I just hope it doesn't hurt us, Marielle.” He looked at her soberly as he stood up. “Be careful you don't unwittingly cooperate with the defense. No matter what you believe or don't believe, you don't want to help them.” She wanted to ask him why not, but she already knew the answer. What they wanted was the truth, about what had happened to Teddy. A little while later, he left, and she was alone again. She went back upstairs to Teddy's room, to touch his things, and fold some of his clothes again, and arrange his teddy bears differently. She could never stay out of his room. But poor Malcolm could no longer even bear to go up there.

It was the following day when Thomas Armour, the attorney for the defense, arrived, shortly after noon. He had called and asked to see her earlier that morning. She had called John and asked him if it was something she wasn't supposed to do, and he told her honestly that he thought it unwise, but it was not illegal. But she was curious about the man, and she wanted a little warning of what she would be facing.

Malcolm had gone to Boston for a few days, and she was alone when she met him. She was wearing a black dress, which was all she seemed to wear these days, as though she were already in some kind of mourning. He was wearing a dark blue suit, and he had dark blond hair which must have been even lighter in his childhood. He had warm brown eyes that, at first, seemed very gentle. But his tone was not gentle when he spoke to her. He was polite and firm, and he didn't pull any punches. And his eyes seemed to bore into her, looking for answers.

Haverford brought him into the library, and after the initial niceties, he looked her straight in the eye and asked her a very pointed question. “I'd like to have some idea, before the trial, of what you're going to say about my client.” He hadn't wanted the case, he had expected Charles to be a spoiled brat at first. But he'd grown to like him and now that he'd taken it all his loyalties were with Charles Delauney.

“What exactly do you mean, Mr. Armour?” She knew from the newspapers that he had gone to Harvard, was the youngest partner of a very important firm, and was somewhere in his late thirties. Charles had hired the best, and he had every right to. But more than just his reputation, there was something very quiet and compelling about Tom Armour. He was handsome but it wasn't something Marielle noticed about him. She was more impressed by the intelligence in his face and an aura of determination.

“Mr. Delauney gave me some idea of what happened…several years ago. I think we both know of what I'm speaking.” He meant when Andre died, but she appreciated the fact that he didn't just say it. “He admits that he behaved abominably, and that his behavior could be badly misconstrued now. You're the only person now who can testify as to exactly what he did, and why. Just how exactly do you view it?”

“I think he went mad with grief. So did I. We both did foolish things. It was a long time ago.” She looked sad as she thought of it, and he watched her. She was a beautiful woman, but he thought she had the saddest eyes he'd ever seen, and she intrigued him. It had been clear to him all along that Charles Delauney was still in love with her, and he wondered just how much his sentiments were reciprocated, but Delauney had insisted ardently that they hadn't been involved before the kidnapping. In fact, because of Malcolm, she had refused to see him. Tom Armour was mildly impressed by that, but it was going to take a lot more than that to seriously impress him.

“Do you think my client is a dangerous man?” That was a loaded question, and she thought about it for a long time.

“No. I think he's foolish. Impetuous. Even stupid sometimes.” She smiled but Tom Armour did not smile back. “But I don't think he's dangerous.”

“Do you think he took your child?”

She hesitated for a long, long time, trying to be truthful. “I don't know.” She looked him squarely in the eye, and she liked what she saw there. He looked like an honest man, someone you could trust. And had she met him in other circumstances, she knew that she would have liked him. And she thought that Charles was very lucky to have him as an attorney. “I don't know. I think he did. The evidence was there. But when I think of him, as he was… as I knew him… I don't see how he could do it.”

“Do you think that if he took your child, he would harm him?”

“Somehow…” She thought about it and then looked at him again. “…Somehow I just can't let myself believe that.” Because if she did… it would destroy her.

“Why do you think he might have taken him? Out of revenge for the child you lost? Anger at you because you wouldn't see him?…because he still loves you?”

“I'm not sure.” She wished herself that she had the answers.

“Do you think someone could have framed him?” It was what Charles had insisted to him from the beginning. And Tom Armour had finally come to believe it.

“Possibly. But who? And how would he have gotten Teddy's pajamas and bear, if he'd never had him?” The defense had thought of that too, and they were difficult questions to answer, unless the people who had actually taken the child had framed Charles, but that was a long shot. And how would they even know him? It was the weakest spot in their case. But the strongest one was that the child's mother herself wasn't totally convinced that Charles Delauney would do it. Armour had a feeling she could be swayed either way, which was dangerous for Charles.

He asked her a few more questions then, made a few notes, and thanked her for her time, as he snapped shut his briefcase. And as she stood up, she looked at him, and decided to be honest.

“I was told that I shouldn't speak to you today. That it was 'unwise, but not illegal.'” She quoted John, and she knew that Malcolm and the U.S. Attorney would have been livid.

“Then why did you?” He was fascinated by her, not by her looks as much as her quiet ways, and her inner peace. This did not appear to be a woman who had ever been in a mental hospital or gone crazy. Maybe she had just given up and wanted to die, as Charles had explained. But now she was definitely back again, and beneath the cool surface, there was a lot of fire, and a sharp brain. He had enjoyed talking to her.

“Mr. Armour, all I want is the truth. That's all I want. Even more than justice. If Teddy is dead, I want to know it…and yes, I want to know who killed him, and why…but if he's alive, I want him found… I just want to know where he is, so he can come home.”

Tom Armour nodded. He understood. And for his own reasons, he wanted that too. “I hope we find out, Mrs. Patterson… for his sake as much as yours…and Mr. Delauney's.”

“Thank you.”

Haverford saw him out, and Marielle watched as he went down the stairs. He looked like a man who was in control of everything he touched. And she envied him his confidence. But beneath the confident air, she had sensed something more. Something warm and strong and very caring. And as she walked back to the library, she realized again how fortunate Charles was to have him as an attorney.

10

The trial opened on a bleak wintry afternoon in March, with a bitter wind and a chill rain that went right to the bone, as the jurors, the public, and the press filed into the courtroom. It was the same week that Hitler swept into Prague, and announced to the world that Czechoslovakia was his now. But even Malcolm was less concerned with world news than usual. All they could think of was The U.S. v. Charles Delauney.