A Cold War

by Alan Russell

  But her good intentions were no match for her exhaustion. She fought off the closing of her eyelids once, and then a second time, but finally lost the battle, and he crept out of her hospital room.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  Nina sat on the deck, taking in the view of North Pond. On the other side of the seventy-five-acre Donnelly family compound in Greenwich, she’d been told there was a second private body of water called South Pond. Even though the Donnelly family had lived on the estate for more than half a century, it was still referred to as Pond Manor.

  It was at Pond Manor that Nina was supposed to convalesce. Even though the air was thirty degrees outside, she was seated on a cushioned chair looking out to the pond. Nina felt unaffected by the cold.

  At the sound of the door opening, she turned her head to see Sergeant Wood standing there. His posture didn’t seem as straight as usual, and instead of projecting a take-charge attitude, he looked awkward and ill at ease.

  “Permission to approach, ma’am?”

  Nina nodded.

  Sarge drew closer. His previous tactic had been to intimidate through direct eye contact, but not now. He kept his eyes mostly averted.

  “I wanted you to know I offered my resignation to the congressman. At this time he has refused to accept it. However, should you want me to step aside, I will do so. I take full responsibility for your situation and all that occurred.”

  “I don’t understand why you would think you were responsible, Sergeant.”

  “I should have insisted that security accompany you during your trip to Alaska.”

  Nina smiled. “I seem to remember that you did insist, but I refused to listen to you.”

  “I was the individual who headed up efforts in Alaska trying to determine what happened to you, as well as being the congressman’s liaison between his office and Alaskan law enforcement and the military.”

  “And I am told you were tireless in your efforts.”

  “But I was of little, if any, help in your recovery.”

  “All is well that ends well, right, Sergeant?”

  “If you say so, ma’am,” he said, but he still looked miserable.

  “I’m alive, Sarge. Life is good.”

  “No thanks to me. When that piece from your engagement diamond turned up, I assumed you’d been robbed and were dead.”

  “Most people made that same assumption.”

  “Did your assailant ever say anything about his disposing of the ring?”

  Nina shook her head.

  “We assume he sold it to a fence in Alaska,” said Sarge, “but that’s just guesswork.”

  “What I don’t understand is how you were able to identify my diamond from that carat that turned up.”

  “A bulletin was sent out to everyone in the diamond world,” he said. “Because your diamond was certified, several markers were in place. One of those markers had been put in place by a laser, which essentially gave it a unique fingerprint. There was also an identification number etched on the diamond, which could only be seen with a high-magnification lens. And finally, it had been X-rayed from all angles. All diamonds reflect and retract in a unique way, and even with just the single carat, we were able to see this. We assume your abductor’s fence had the gem cut in the hopes that it wouldn’t be identified. Unfortunately, we still haven’t been able to track down the original seller.”

  “Maybe we’ll get lucky when they try to unload the rest of the stone,” Nina said.

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Sarge.

  There must have been an unseen line waiting to talk to Nina. Marilyn Grant appeared within a minute of Sarge’s leaving.

  Marilyn sat next to her and gathered Nina’s right hand into hers, looking more like a concerned grandmother than the family’s longtime media-relations director. “For all you’ve been through, you look wonderful.”

  “That’s because you’ve been keeping the press from me. Terrence says you’ve been besieged.”

  “There is a bit of a frenzy going on out there. Everyone wants your story.”

  “I suppose I can’t put them off forever,” said Nina, “just like I can’t put off certain decisions.”

  “Don’t worry about them, and don’t worry about me. You need to do what’s right for you. If you want my advice, though, I’d suggest you let me schedule one interview. I’ll set ground rules, choose the venue, and insist upon a list of questions to be asked ahead of time. By doing that we’ll satisfy the public’s curiosity and be able to defuse some of the wild speculation and rumors.”

  “I’m out of the loop. What rumors are you referring to?”

  “Nothing more than the usual political innuendoes and conspiracy theories. There’s a story going around that your abduction was arranged so as to ensure the congressman’s November victory. There are also some skeptics wondering how a one-hundred-and-twenty-pound woman bested a large armed man.”

  “Thank heavens for a momentary lapse on his part.”

  “And that’s how we’d dispose of one wild story.”

  “The true story is a lot worse. I suppose there’s no avoiding talking about how he maimed me, abused me, and raped me.”

  “I’m afraid those are unavoidable subjects, but I promise you that they will not be belabored.”

  “I suppose we better address the elephant in the room,” said Nina.

  “I suppose we better,” said Marilyn, offering a sad if supportive smile. “Several of the tabloids have reported that you’re pregnant. They cite sources within Fairbanks Memorial Hospital. The mainstream media is now reporting the same thing.”

  “Once the toothpaste comes out of the tube,” Nina said, “it’s impossible to get back in.”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “And how do we handle that?”

  “However you decide. I want you to know that personally and professionally, I will support any decision you make.”

  Terrence appeared shortly after Marilyn left. Nina wondered if his timing was coincidental, or if Terrence had let Sarge and Marilyn deal with some of the unpleasantries before he had his talk with her.

  Everyone had always said how youthful Terrence looked. That was before the heavy dark circles appeared. There were also frown lines on his forehead that Nina had never seen before. She knew she was their cause.

  “Brrr,” Terrence said, exhaling vapor and putting a tentative hand on Nina’s shoulder. “I thought the doctors told you to limit your exposure to cold, especially in light of their having to remove those toes.”

  “Two little piggies,” Nina said with a little smile. “The doctor promised me I’d be able to run after the procedure. What were his words? ‘Your ambulation shouldn’t be overly impeded by the removal of the fourth and fifth phalanges.’ It’s a good thing a nurse leaned over to me and said, ‘Your fourth toe and pinky toe.’”

  “Are you in a lot of pain?”

  “Some,” Nina admitted, “but even when I hurt, it feels good, because I’m no longer a captive.”

  They heard a rattling of cups. Mrs. Leary always managed to announce herself with her cups and cutlery. She and her husband lived at and managed the interior of Pond Manor.

  “Hot chocolate and freshly baked coffee cake,” said Mrs. Leary. “It’s what the doctor ordered.”

  “You can be my doctor anytime,” Nina said.

  Mrs. Leary smiled and served, then left the couple alone.

  Nina sipped at her hot chocolate and marveled at the taste. Mrs. Leary didn’t believe in serving anything that was packaged. In her drink you could actually taste chocolate, butter, and cream.

  Terrence pretended to enjoy his drink as well, but Nina could tell he was preoccupied. She’d never seen his face look as gaunt, even during his toughest political moments.

  “Penny for your thoughts?”

  “I’m just worried about you.”

  “My nightmare is over, Terrence. Whatever happens from here on in won’t compare to what came before. And that includes my
pregnancy.”

  He nodded, and Nina was sure she’d guessed right about what was foremost on his mind.

  “It’s not a secret that can be hidden for long,” she said. “The baby is growing so quickly that in another week or two, the media won’t even have to speculate over my condition.”

  “It sounds like you’ve decided to keep the baby.”

  “I have.”

  “Then know this: I will love the baby as much as if it’s my own.”

  “You’re a good man, Terrence,” said Nina, speaking gently and sincerely. “I think you might be the best man I’ve ever known . . .”

  “You’re about to say but. Don’t say it.”

  “That’s what makes this so difficult.”

  He started shaking his head. “Don’t say it. Don’t make any rash decisions. You’ve been through hell, and you’ve hardly had any time to recover. Now is the time for you to heal.”

  Terrence continued talking, not letting her interrupt. “Everyone is rooting for you. My staff has fielded thousands of calls. And what people want is the fairy tale we can have. After all you’ve been through, don’t tell me we can’t live happily ever after. We can. The best plastic surgeons in the country tell me your finger can be reconstructed so that it looks almost new. Let me put a new ring on that finger.”

  Nina shook her head. “I’m not going to have my finger reconstructed. It suits me just the way it is.”

  She tried not to cry, but her eyes filled with tears, and her lips quivered as she added, “And I won’t be able to wear your ring, either.”

  “I can’t accept that,” he said. “I won’t accept it.”

  “My experience changed me.”

  “Of course, it did. It was horrible. Everyone understands it will take time for you to heal. Give me that time before you make a decision.”

  “This isn’t a sudden decision. When I was enslaved, I knew that if I ever got free, I wouldn’t be able to go through with our marriage.”

  “You’re being noble,” he said. “You think the baby and what you went through make you a political liability. I don’t care about that. I care about you.”

  “I wish I was being noble. I’m not. When I agreed to be your wife, you made me feel like a princess. But that’s not who I am. I know that now.”

  What she was saying was mostly true. Nina didn’t want to admit that she was afraid of what questions would be asked when Baer’s body was recovered from the snow. The circumstances that had led her to kill him were justified—but she wasn’t going to subject Terrence to a potential scandal.

  “I am not going to abandon you,” he said.

  “And I’m not going to abandon you,” she said, “but that doesn’t mean both of us shouldn’t go different ways.”

  Terrence shook his head. His eyes were now as filled with tears as Nina’s. “What happened to you was terrible. It was unspeakable. Why can’t we let time try to heal those wounds?”

  “During my captivity I realized how short and precious life is. I need to do something that matters to me, Terrence.”

  “I won’t stand in your way.”

  “I can’t be a politician’s wife and do what I want to do.”

  “Then I don’t have to be a politician. I can resign.”

  Nina stood up and hugged him, squeezing him close to her. “Why would you want to do that?” she whispered. “Politics is your calling. I have my own calling now.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  Nina took Marilyn’s advice. Two days later she and Terrence sat in front of cameras for her one and only interview. Terrence held her maimed hand. The world heard about her horrors and her courage. Nina’s only regret was that she couldn’t mention Elese. Her sister’s journal could implicate her in Baer’s murder. For now she chose to say nothing.

  Everyone commented on how devastated the congressman looked while she told her story. No one suspected the real reason for his discomfiture. They’d decided that the announcement of their split-up could wait—it was the first politically strategic decision Nina was wholly on board with since their engagement.

  After the interview Nina went to her parents’ house. She let them spoil her. Luke came home for a long weekend, and everyone pretended it was like old times. It was the balm Nina needed; Baer’s shadow receded. It wasn’t Our Town, or not exactly. Her role as Emily had come and gone a long time ago. But Nina tried to realize life while she was living it, as hard as that might be.

  Over the course of three days, she left four messages on Greg Martin’s cell phone, so she wasn’t surprised when he finally called back.

  “And here I was wondering if you were avoiding my calls,” she said.

  “I’ve been traveling.”

  “Please don’t tell me you already flew to the cabin.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because there was something I needed to talk to you about before you read Elese’s book. That’s why I’ve been calling and leaving you messages.”

  “I haven’t started reading her book.”

  “I’m glad.”

  “You won’t be. The only reason I’m not reading her book is because it’s now a pile of ashes.”

  Nina’s sharp intake of breath bespoke her shock. “What?” she said.

  “I flew to the cabin,” he said, “or what used to be the cabin. Someone burned it down.”

  “The cabin’s gone?”

  “All that was left were a few metal traps.”

  “Why would anyone burn it down?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me.”

  Nina couldn’t shake off the numbness she was feeling. Elese’s book had sustained her through so much. She felt bereft that one of her last connections to Elese was now forever gone.

  “I don’t have a clue.”

  Neither one said anything for a moment; silly as it seemed, Nina felt she’d just gotten news that a close friend had died.

  “So, what was it that you needed to talk to me about?” Greg asked.

  She took a deep breath. “You need to know about Denali.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-ONE

  Almost two hundred people turned out at Glide Memorial Church in downtown San Francisco to pay tribute to Elese and Denali Martin.

  Nina was glad no one seemed to take notice of her presence at the service. Maybe her black veil and gloves, as well as her overcoat, had something to do with that. No one could see her face, missing finger, or emerging baby bump.

  The service let out to a rousing rendition of Leonard Cohen’s “Hallelujah,” sung by the chorus. And that was the word on Nina’s lips and those of everyone around her as they walked out of the church: Hallelujah.

  There was a crowd waiting to see Greg Martin. For more than three years, he’d been a suspect in his wife’s disappearance, and now he was finally free. He also looked a little bit lost. Of course, Nina couldn’t be sure if she was interpreting his condition or her own.

  Someone started toward her. The media, Nina thought. She picked up her pace and hurriedly made her way toward Ellis Street, scanning for a cab. It annoyed her that she was walking with a limp and couldn’t yet break out into a run. Physical therapy was working wonders, but she still had to get used to moving without two toes. Nina liked to complain that she was walking like Dr. Zira from the Planet of the Apes films.

  Without any taxi in sight, a footrace wouldn’t work, so she came to a stop and turned around. She opened her mouth to say, “No comment,” but then saw it wasn’t a reporter who was following her.

  The slightly breathless man stopped his pursuit. “I didn’t think you heard me there. And I’m not sure whether you remember me. With this suit I barely recognize myself. But I’m . . .”

  “Sergeant Hamilton,” said Nina, extending her hand.

  “Guilty as charged,” he said. “Say, I was just about to look for a place to get some coffee and a bite to eat. Any chance I can talk you into joining me? I always feel funny sitting by myself.”

  “Why not?”
said Nina.

  After asking the advice of a few locals, they decided that John’s Grill sounded like the perfect place to eat. Everyone said it was “old San Francisco.” Best of all it was only three blocks from the church.

  The restaurant was as old as the locals had advertised. While waiting for a booth, Nina occupied herself by reading some framed newspaper articles. The grill, she learned, had been around since 1908. While she buried herself in reading about its past, Hamilton spent his time looking at the abundant Maltese Falcon paraphernalia.

  “They shot a scene from The Maltese Falcon in this restaurant,” he told her. “I’m pretty sure I remember it. Humphrey Bogart as Sam Spade comes in and orders chops, a baked potato, and sliced tomatoes. Guess what I’m going to be having? My wife’s going to be so jealous. She loves old Bogart films.”

  A hostess led them to their booth. Hamilton ordered his Sam Spade Special, while Nina had a shrimp cocktail. A basket of hot sourdough bread was delivered to them, and Nina was soon making rapturous sounds.

  “That was a nice memorial service, wasn’t it?” asked Hamilton.

  Nina nodded. “I don’t think I’ve ever been to a better one.”

  “Quite the rip-roaring choir.”

  “They were incredible.”

  “The service wasn’t without its surprises, though, was it? Or I guess Elese’s boy wasn’t a surprise for you. You had to have been the one who told Martin about Denali, right?”

  Nina smiled. “Is this an interview, Sergeant?”

  Hamilton shook his head. “No, it’s not that. I guess old habits die hard, though. It’s sort of ironic that Martin was my prime suspect in Elese’s disappearance all these years, and because of him I came into my windfall.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Your fiancé put out a two-million-dollar reward for your safe return, or for providing information that led to your safe return. You didn’t know that?”

  Nina shook her head.

  “I thought you would have heard,” said Hamilton. “You lucked out being found like you were, but Martin and I lucked into a financial windfall. Each of us is collecting a million dollars.”