Vanished

Tom Armour's statement to them was only slightly more reassuring. He told them that Charles Delauney was a decent, honest, in some ways deeply troubled man, who had lost his own son nine years before, in fact his unborn daughter too, his entire family, and knowing how great the pain of that had been, he would never have hurt any child, or taken any man's children from him. He had fought honestly in the Great War and in the fight in Spain since then. He was no Communist. He was a man who believed in freedom. Educated, intelligent, decent, yet heartbroken by the shattering of his youthful dreams, he was admittedly misguided in some of his behavior, or even his words, but this was not a man who could kidnap anyone's son. And the defense was going to prove that he hadn't. Furthermore, he reminded everyone, Mr. Delauney was on trial for kidnapping here, and not for murder. And if the jurors listened to the evidence carefully, he was sure they would acquit him. As he spoke to them, Tom Armour walked slowly before the jury, looking each one in the eye, speaking directly to them, not in a condescending way, but as equals, as friends, making sure they understood and believed him. He was masterful at what he did, and it was fascinating to watch him. He also explained to them that the U.S. Attorney would be presenting his case first, from beginning to end, and Tom would be cross-examining his witnesses, of course, but he would not present his case until the prosecution had completed theirs. And he reminded them again that it was up to the prosecution to prove, beyond a reasonable doubt, that Charles Delauney had kidnapped the Patterson boy, and if the prosecution could not convince them of that, whether they liked Charles or not as a man, they had to acquit him. But Tom assured them that by the time he finished his case, they would understand that he had been wronged by these charges.

There was a long silence when they were both through, and Judge Morrison instructed the U.S. Attorney to call his first witness, and Marielle was stunned when she heard her name. She had no idea he was intending to call her as his first witness. She raised an eyebrow as she walked past John, and he tried to look reassuring, but he was worried about what Palmer was going to do. He knew what had turned up in the calls he made, and none of it was very damaging. But he had no idea what Palmer and Malcolm had dug up without him.

She took the stand, and carefully smoothed down the plain black dress she had worn. She nervously crossed her legs as she glanced around the courtroom, and then uncrossed them again. And all the while, Bill Palmer strutted around the courtroom and watched her. He watched her as though there were something strange about her, as though he were suspicious of her, and more than once he glanced from her to the defendant, as though there was something he didn't understand about them. It was as though he was trying to convey something unpleasant or unsavory to the jury. And what he was doing was making Marielle very nervous. She glanced at the judge, then at Malcolm, who looked away, and at John, who looked serious as he watched her, and she waited for Palmer's first question.

“Please state your name.'

“Marielle Patterson.”

“Your full name please.”

“Marielle Johnson Patterson. Marielle Anne Johnson Patterson,” she smiled, but he did not smile in answer.

“Is there more?”

“No, sir.” Two women on the jury smiled, and Marielle felt a little better. But her hands were shaking terribly as she held them in her lap where no one could see them.

“Have you ever had another name, Mrs. Patterson?” And then she knew what he was asking.

“Yes.” Why was he doing this? What would it help? She didn't understand.

“Would you please tell us that name?” He boomed out the words as though to frighten her, and she couldn't see Malcolm's eyes.

“Delauney,” she said quietly.

“Could you say that a little louder please, so the jurors can hear you.”

She flushed bright red and said it louder for all to hear while Charles watched her in sympathy. “Delauney.” He felt sorry for her suddenly. Sorrier even than John Taylor, because he suspected what was coming. Palmer was smarter than they had thought. He was going to discredit her early on, so anything she said later would be worth nothing. He wasn't going to take the chance she would question Charles's guilt in public, and weaken his case in front of the jury.

“Are you related to the defendant in any way?”

“I was married to him.”

“When was that?”

“In 1926, in Paris. I was eighteen years old.”

“And what kind of marriage was it?” He pretended to be friendly to her, he even smiled. But she knew now that he was going to destroy her. “Was it a big wedding? A small one?”

“We eloped.”

“I see. …” He looked disturbed, as though somehow she had done something wrong, and he was sorry. “And how long were you married?”

“For five years actually. Until 1931.”

“And how did the marriage end? In divorce?”