Danielle Steel - Vanished

“Marielle, how could you?”

“How could I what? Tell him the truth? What choice did I have? He knew it all anyway. You heard the letters from the two doctors.”

“My God…the suicides…the migraines…two years in a mental hospital…”

“I told you all that in December.” And she had, right after Teddy was kidnapped. In fact, the next morning.

“It didn't sound quite like that then.” He looked genuinely aghast, and suddenly she was deeply embarrassed. She stared at the man she thought she knew, and ran upstairs to her own room, and locked the door. But a few moments later, she saw a slip of paper slide under the door. All it said was “Call your doctor.” She thought it was someone being wicked at first, and then she recognized John Taylor's handwriting, and she wondered why he wanted her to call her doctor. And then she knew. Somewhere deep inside of her, she knew. She ran to her address book, picked up the phone, and asked the operator to call the number. It was nine o'clock in Villars, but she knew that he was there round the clock because he lived there. And he was in, of course, and startled to hear from her.

“What is going on there?”

She told him about the kidnapping, but assumed he knew, and he told her he had already answered many questions. She didn't tell him he'd ruined her with his telegram, she knew how upset he'd be to have his words misused. At one time in her life, the man had saved her.

“Are you all right?” he asked, with deep concern for her.

“I think so.”

“Les migraines?”

“Better sometimes. Not right now. It's difficult with Teddy gone…and Malcolm…my husband… I had to tell him about Charles, and Andre…and the clinique. He never wanted me to tell him anything before we were married.”

“But he knew.” Docteur Verbeuf sounded surprised that she didn't know that. “He called me before you were married in…oh…when was it?…1932? Yes, that was it. It was the same year you left here. You left in February, and he must have called in October.” They were married three months after that, in January, on New Year's Day.

“He called you?” She was confused. “But why?”

“He wanted to know if there was anything he could do for you… for the migraines… to make your life a little happier… I told him you should have lots of children.” But he was sad for her now that tragedy had found her again. She was such a nice girl, and she hadn't been very lucky. “Is there any news of the child?”

“Not yet.”

“Let me know.”

“I will.” She wondered if he even knew what purpose his telegram had served, and as she hung up, she wondered at Malcolm's motive. He had known for all these years, and yet, when she'd told him he'd been shocked, and he had even let Bill Palmer use the information.

But there was no time to ask him anything as they sped back to the courthouse before two. And she said nothing to John all that afternoon. She was lost deep in her own thoughts and she had too many questions.

The U.S. Attorney put Patrick Reilly on the stand that afternoon, and he described what he'd seen at Saint Patrick's, and the look on Delauney's face in the park the following afternoon. He said he'd been furious and Patrick said he'd seen Charles grab her and try to shake her.

And it seemed hours to her until she could confront Malcolm. They rode home in silence again that afternoon, and at last they were alone, and she found him in his dressing room. He was dressing for a quiet dinner at his club. He said he needed to get out and clear his head for an evening.

“You lied to me.”

“About what?” He turned to her with obvious disinterest.

“You let me tell you the whole story after Teddy disappeared. And you knew. You knew everything…about Andre…about Charles…about the clinic. Why didn't you tell me?”

“Did you really think I would marry you without knowing where you came from?” He looked at her with derision. She had made a fool of herself on the stand that day, as far as he was concerned, and a fool of him…kissing Charles Delauney in church. It was disgusting.

“You lied to me.”

“And you endangered my son. You brought that bastard into our life, and because of you, he took him.” It looked as if he didn't care what they said about her fragile state of mind, as far as he was concerned, she had cost him everything he cared for. “And it's none of your business what I knew about you. That's my affair.”

“How could you tell Bill Palmer?”

“Because if he didn't discredit you, you might support that fool that you were married to…that son of a bitch…that killer…but you, with your bleeding heart, you're still not sure he's guilty.”

“So you did that to me? So I couldn't help him?” She didn't understand him anymore, and wondered if she had ever really known him.

“If he goes to the chair for Teddy's death, it'll be too good for him.”

“Is that what all this is? A game of revenge between the two of you? He takes Teddy and you kill him? What's wrong with all of you?” She suddenly felt sick looking at him.

“Get out of my room, Marielle. I have nothing to say to you tonight.”

She stared at him in disbelief. He had calculatingly ruined her, in order to destroy Charles. “I don't know who you are anymore.”

“It's no longer important.”

“What are you saying to me?” She was shrieking at him, but it had been a hideous day and she could no longer stand it.

“I think you understand me.”

“It's over, isn't it?” If it ever had existed in the first place. What had they ever had in common, except Teddy?

“It ended the day Delauney took my son out of here. Now you can go back to him when it's over, and you can both cry over what you've done. I'll tell you one thing. I'll never forgive you.” And she knew he meant it.

“Do you want me to leave now, Malcolm?” She was ready to. She would have gone to a hotel that night if he had wanted.

“Are you so anxious for more scandal? You could at least have the decency to wait until the spotlight is off us after the trial.”

She nodded, and a moment later, she went back to her own room. There was nothing left that could surprise her now. She was married to a stranger, a man who hated her for losing their son. Another one. Life had been cruel to her. And whatever happened next, whether they found Teddy or not, she knew the marriage was over.

The next morning, Marielle took breakfast in her room, and all she had was a cup of tea and piece of toast, as she glanced at the paper. It was all there, the horror of yesterday. The humiliation and the destruction she had suffered at the hands of William Palmer. The first article she read said that she had been a mental patient for years and she had had to be carried off the stand, screaming. It was so unfair what they were doing to her, and she still couldn't bring herself to believe that Malcolm had helped them do it. And then she turned to the last page, and saw the article written by Bea Ritter. She wasn't going to read it at first, but as her eyes glanced down the page, she stopped and began again, and tears filled her eyes as she read it.