“I love you very much.” She swallowed to hold back tears. “And so does your papa.”
Liane saw that her daughter's eyes were damp. “I hope the war is over soon. I miss him so much.” She began to sob. “And I hated it—when—they called him—a Nazi—”
“Shh … darling … shh … we know the truth. That's all that matters.”
Marie-Ange nodded and held her mother close and then she lay back on her pillow with a sigh. “I want him to come home.”
“He will. We just have to pray that we can all be together again quickly. Now, go to sleep.”
“Good night, Mommy.”
“Good night, love.” She closed the door softly and went to her own room. It was eight o'clock at night, already five o'clock in the morning in Paris. And Armand lay in his bed in the Place du Palais-Bourbon, in a deep, exhausted sleep, dreaming of his wife and daughters.
She and Philip Markham had stayed at the Riverside Hotel for a little over six weeks, and like all the others, when she got her divorce, she threw the narrow gold wedding band Nick had given her into the Truckee River. The diamond ring he had given her along with it, she saved to sell when she got back to New York. But there were other things on her agenda first. She tried to see Johnny outside his school, but the bodyguard on duty wouldn't let her near him. Instead, she turned up at Nick's office without an appointment and forced her way in, despite his secretary's futile attempts to keep her out. She stood in the doorway in a new sable coat, wearing a new large pear-shaped diamond ring, which did not escape his notice.
“So, the great man is in. It's like trying to get in to see God.” She looked very confident, and very vicious, and terribly pretty. But he was immune to her now. He looked up from his desk as though he were in no way surprised to see her.
“Hello, Hillary. What do you want?”
“In a word, my son.”
“Try for something else. You'll have better luck.”
“So I notice. Who's the goon who stands over him like a mother hen?”
Nick's eyes glittered unpleasantly. “I gather you tried to see him.”
“That's right. He's my child too.”
“Not anymore. You should have thought of that a long time ago.”
“You can't wish me away, Nick, no matter how much you'd like to. I'm still Johnny's mother.” But there was something very ruthless in his face as he got up and crossed the room.
“You don't give a damn about that child.” But he was wrong. She did. She was getting married on the twelfth of March, and Mrs. Markham was already making comments about the scandalous legal proceedings between Hillary and Nick. She wanted Hillary to have custody so there would be no scandal. Philip and Hillary were creating enough of one by living together.
“I'm getting married in five weeks, and I want Johnny there.”
“Why? So people won't talk? Go to hell.”
“He belongs with me. Philip and I love him.”
“That's strange.” Nick leaned back against his desk. He didn't want to come any closer to her. It was as though she exuded poison. “I seem to recall that he's the man who held a gun to my child's head.”
“Oh, for chrissake, stop talking about that.”
“You came to see me. I didn't come to see you. If you don't like what I have to say, get out of my office.”
“Not until you agree to let me see my son. And if you don't”—her eyes were just as vicious as his—“I'll get a court order and you'll have to.” Philip had already taken her to see his attorneys, and she liked their style. They were a tough bunch of bastards.
“Is that right? Well, why don't you have your attorney call mine and they can discuss it. You can save the cab fare coming down here to see me.”
“I can afford it.”
“That's true.” He smiled. “But your fiancé can't. I hear he's gone through his money and he's on an allowance from his mommy.”
“You son of a bitch …” He had hit a nerve, and she walked to the door then and yanked it open. “You'll be hearing from my lawyers.”
“Have a nice wedding.” The door slammed, and he reached for the phone and called Ben Greer.
“I know you don't like it, Nick. But you have to let her see him. You have bodyguards for the boy, she can't do any harm.”
“He doesn't want to see her.”
“He's not old enough to make that decision.”
“Says who?”
“The State of New York.”
“Shit.”
“I think you'd be smart to let her see him. She may lose interest after she sees him a couple of times, and that would look good for us in court. I really want you to think it over.”
Nick did and he was still adamant when he met with Greer in the man's offices a few days later.
“You know, if you don't, she can get a court order and force you to let her see the boy.”
“So she said.”
“She happens to be right. By the way, who are her attorneys?”
“They must be Markham's men. Fulton and Matthews.” Greer frowned at the names. “Do you know them?”
He nodded. “They're very tough, Nick. Very tough.”
“Tougher than you?” Nick was smiling but he looked worried.
“I hope not.”
“You hope not? That's some lousy answer. Can you beat them or not?”
“I can and I have, but they've beaten me a couple of times too. The fact is she's gotten herself the toughest bastards in town.”
“She would. Now what?”
“You let her see the boy.”
“It makes me sick.”
“It'll make you just as sick if they force you.”
“All right, all right.” He had his secretary call Hillary that afternoon and suggest a visit on the following weekend. He expected her to say that she'd be away, but she agreed, and she appeared at the appointed hour at the apartment. Nick had instructed the bodyguard to call the police and have Markham arrested if he showed up with her. With the restraining orders still in force, that was fair play, but Markham was smart enough not to show up. Hillary came alone, looking demure in a navy-blue suit and a mink coat Nick had given her.
Nick stayed downstairs in his study, and the bodyguard was posted outside the child's room, and instructions had been given to leave his door open. It was not an easy visit by any means, and as she left, Hillary dabbed at her eyes and kissed Johnny.
“I'll see you soon, darling.” And when she left, it was obvious that he was confused and torn by his mother's tears.
“Dad, she says she cries herself to sleep every night. She looked really sad. …” Johnny looked desperately unhappy as he showed his father the presents she'd brought him, a new baseball hat, some toy guns, a big stuffed bear he was much too old for, and a toy train. She had no idea what the boy liked so she had bought it all. And Nick had to restrain himself from further comment. It just upset the boy and he knew it. She was playing a game with him, and Nick thought it best not to confuse him any more than he already was. But the situation did not improve. She arrived every Sunday, laden with gifts, and sobbed in anguish in her son's room. Johnny was beginning to lose weight and look extremely nervous. And Nick reported it to his lawyer.