Then, turning to the bench, Brice Mack effected a slight bow and said, “Thank you, Your Honor.”
Judge Langley quickly banged his gavel.
“This court will stand in recess until nine o’clock tomorrow morning.”
Even after the judge’s departure, the entire courtroom remained silent as time hung suspended for seconds until reality took over. Then the silence was rent as a sudden hailstorm of voices deluged the room with a huge, formless wave of sound.
As Janice rose and joined the exodus, she noted the smiles on the jurors’ faces as they filed out of their box and were taken back to the jury room. There was no sign of the judge, but Scott Velie had remained behind and was chatting and laughing with a reporter. Spotting Janice, Velie winked and smiled at her encouragingly.
Elliot Hoover and Brice Mack were standing, hands clasped, smiling amiably while the guard stood by, wearing a small grin as he waited to take the prisoner back to his cell. Smiles and laughter seemed to dominate the moment, forcing Janice into a well of merriment.
The case of the People v. Elliot Hoover had got off to a gay and happy start.
There were messages at the desk, mainly for Bill and mainly from his office; his secretary twice, Don Goetz four times, Mr. Simmons once, and two from a reporter named Hazard from AP. There was a message for Janice from Carole: “Would they care to join them for dinner that night, veal birds and fettuccini casa linga? PLEASE!!” Janice would not at all have minded but knew that Bill would say no. She would call Carole later and thank her.
Bill thrust aside the messages and put through a call to Mount Carmel.
Janice hung up their coats, then went upstairs and picked up the extension in time to hear, “And please don’t worry, Mr. Templeton, all the sisters and the teachers have been alerted to safeguard your child’s privacy and tranquillity. You can depend on us.”
“Thank you, Mother Veronica,” Bill said huskily, then made several fatherly inquiries about Ivy’s schoolwork, deportment, and state of health.
“She’s a lovely child,” the mother enthused, “and a very good student; alert, bright, and well liked by the other girls. She’s at dinner now. Suppose I have her call you after evening prayers?”
“I’d be grateful, Mother.”
The omelette à fines herbes sec which she whipped together with dried parsley and basil flakes was a disaster since there was neither butter nor oil in the house. The final result, poached in a bit of water, was limpid, mealy, and inedible.
Before Ivy’s call came through at seven fifteen, they’d received two other calls, both for Bill. Don Goetz’s call came first, a few minutes after they had given up on the omelet.
“Hey, guy, you’re famous,” Don chortled. His voice held a note of mild shock and hilarity. “You made page six of the Post.”
“Yeah, I know,” Bill lied with a matching laugh. “Crazy, isn’t it?”
“Wow! Is it on the level?”
“Is what on the level?”
“What it says: this is my child, kidnapper claims, reincarnated.”
Bill felt a lump take root inside his chest as Don chuckled his way through a couple of the choicer lines in the news story. “ ‘… renowned psychic clued Hoover to reborn daughter’s whereabouts … defendant heard cry of his daughter’s soul issue from mouth of kidnapped girl … defense promises expert witnesses will substantiate claim.…’ Jesus, man!” Don said in a high, strident voice. “Is this guy for real?”
There was no hint of levity in Pel Simmons’ voice when he called a few minutes later. In fact, there was a decidedly funereal quality to their brief transaction as Bill filled Pel in on the essentials of the case and Pel, undoubtedly disturbed, expressed sympathy and support for Bill and his family.
“Don’t worry about things at the office,” Pel said in conclusion. “Don will stay on top of your accounts.”
Bill felt the first vague and distant reverberations of the death knell in this last statement.
Ivy’s call came through as Bill was wrapping up with Pel. Janice answered and was listening mutely and with concern to Ivy as Bill approached.
“What is it?” he asked, fearing the worst.
Janice covered the mouthpiece with her hand. “She’s coughing. I think she’s coming down with a cold.”
“Oh,” said Bill with a sigh of relief.
“Here’s Daddy. He’d like to say hello.” Janice handed the phone to Bill.
“Hi, Princess, what’s this about a cold?”
“It’s nothing, Daddy,” Ivy said in between coughs. “All the girls have the sniffles.”
“Well, be sure to bundle up good when you go out, and if it gets any worse, go see the nurse in the dispensary.”
“I’ve already been,” Ivy said agreeably. “She gave me some groovy cough medicine. Tastes like cherries, of course.” Then, shifting subjects: “Daddy, you and Mommy are coming up this weekend, aren’t you?”
“Try keeping us away.” Bill grinned.
“You know Mina Dawson?”
“Yeah, sure—that pretty friend of yours.”
“Right, she’s really swell, and I was wondering, Daddy. You see, her mother won’t be coming up this weekend.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “She’s going to Florida to file for a divorce and”—she continued aloud—“since Mina is going to be terribly lonely, I wondered if we couldn’t ask her to join us for dinner at the Clam Box Saturday night.”
Janice saw a pleased, crooked smile spread over Bill’s features as he chuckled and said, “We’d be delighted, Princess. Tell Mina to count on it.”
They talked a while longer; then Bill allowed Janice to say good-bye before taking the phone back for a final word.
“And if any of the kids there should say anything to you, Princess, anything at all that might sound strange and funny, promise me you won’t listen to them, promise you’ll tell them to bug off, okay?”
“Strange and funny like what?”
“Oh.…” Bill groped. “Like … your father’s got two heads and a bushy tail, crazy, creepy things like that.”
Ivy laughed. “The only girl here’d say anything like that is Jill O’Connor, but then she’s a freak.” Her voice lowered to a whisper. “Her left boob is twice as big as her right one.”
After hanging up the receiver, Bill checked with the desk for messages. There were three, two from the man named Hazard and one from a girl in the news department of WNBC local. Bill told Ernie not to bother sending them up.
Later, after a long, relaxing bath, Bill put on his robe and joined Janice in the living room.
She was surprised to see him go to the television set and turn it on. He had pointedly avoided the six thirty news but now seemed almost eager to catch the ten o’clock summary.
It did not come until the really important issues of the day had been put aside and six commercial messages had been heard. It was only in the final minutes of the telecast that the worry lines in the newscaster’s craggy face gradually relaxed, and the dark, brooding eyes displayed an unaccustomed glint of humor and mischief as he launched into the lighter side of the day’s happenings.