The Abduction
Larry Sadler was wakened in the middle of the night by his wife's gentle nudges.
"Wake up, honey," Patricia said. "It's time."
"What?" he asked groggily, trying to make the transition from the dream world of slumber to waking reality. "It's not six yet, is it?"
Larry glanced at the clock on the night table. It was only three in the morning. Why was Patricia waking him up so early? His eyes traveled to his wife, who was already dressed and taking his clothes out of the closet.
My God! She's gorgeous! he thought, still amazed that she had accepted his marriage proposal. Even nine months preg—
Suddenly, the significance of the moment hit him: it was time. He jumped out of bed, grabbed the clothes his wife had selected for him and began getting dressed.
"I've made you a cup of coffee," Patricia said, showing no sign of nervousness.
"I can't waste time drinking coffee," her husband argued.
"Don't be silly. This is our first child. It probably won't be born for hours yet. Drink your coffee. I want you wide awake when you drive me to the hospital."
The smile on Patricia's face could light up the room.
My God! She's gorgeous! Larry thought again, as he did nearly every time he looked at her.
It wasn't only his wife's stunningly beautiful face that made him adore her. In addition to being physically attractive, she was intelligent, witty, charming and affectionate. Furthermore, she was the only child of Henry Dalton, the wealthiest man in Kingston. Most importantly, for reasons he couldn't understand, she had fallen in love with him!
After finishing his coffee in record-breaking time, he grabbed the handle of his wife's suitcase in his left hand. With his right, he supported Patricia's arm as he led her down the front steps of their two-story Victorian home, which had been a wedding present from the bride's father. He continued to hold on to her arm as the two walked to the garage, and he helped her inside the front passenger seat of the couple's new Chevrolet Fleetmaster, another gift from Henry Dalton.
During the eight-mile drive to the hospital, Patricia winced several times from the pain of the contractions. However, Larry tried to remain calm and concentrate on the road ahead of him.
"We're almost there," he announced unnecessarily since his wife had lived in Kingston all her life and knew better than he did where the hospital was located.
"Don't worry. Everything is going to be fine," she said when they wheeled her into the delivery room.
* * *
As Larry paced the floor of the maternity ward's waiting room, he wondered if his wife had ever worried about anything in her life. Probably not. God, fate or just plain old good luck had brought her into this world with every possible advantage: physical perfection, intelligence, doting parents and a privileged upbringing. Patricia honestly believed everything would be fine since she had never known adversity before. She expected the delivery and birth to go smoothly.
Unlike his wife, things in Larry's childhood had rarely been good. Born in a poor, rural community in the South, he had grown up on a farm that could barely support the family of two adults and four sons. When the Depression crippled the country's economy, the Sadlers lost their farm. Larry's father headed west in hopes of finding employment. The family never saw him again. His mother took to drinking, and the four boys were taken away from her and put into state-sponsored homes.
With a childhood straight out of a Charles Dickens novel, it was no wonder that when the attack on Pearl Harbor triggered the United States' entry into World War II, Larry Sadler was one of the first men to enlist. He fought bravely, in part due to the fact that he felt he had nothing worth living for. When peace came, he briefly returned home to the South to discover that his three brothers had been killed in battle, and his mother had been institutionalized.
Faced with having no employment prospects or family, the veteran accepted an invitation from Army buddy Hal Scully to move north to Kingston. Hal had been born and raised in the New England town and was able to get both men jobs at the paper factory there. For the first time in his life, Larry began to enjoy himself. He had a steady income, a room at the local boarding house, friends and even a young woman he took out on Saturday nights.
This is the life! he thought when he and Hal attended the factory's annual summer picnic. I've got a roof over my head, food on the table, money in my pocket and ....
One look at the woman who entered Kingston Park, parting the crowd as she made her way to the center table where the president and vice presidents of the company sat, was enough to make Larry forget his recent blessings.
"Who is that?" he asked Scully.
"That's the lovely Patricia Dalton. Her father owns the paper factory and the bank, and the department store—you get the idea."
"In other words, he owns the town."
"Right, and most of the people in it."
"My God, she's gorgeous!" Larry exclaimed.
"Forget it, pal! She's way out of your league."
"I gathered that much."
"Stick to Eloise."
Oddly enough, prior to the day of the picnic, Larry had considered himself lucky to have a sweet girl like Eloise Mackey. He had even considered marrying her once he saved up enough money. One look at Patricia, however, made every other woman pale by comparison. In all probability, Larry would have continued working at the factory, saving money so that he and Eloise could get married and been content to admire the beautiful young woman from afar had not fate decreed otherwise.
On the day after the picnic, Larry decided to take advantage of the good weather and go for a swim at nearby Willow Lake. Since it was Sunday morning most of the people in town were attending church, and he would have the entire beach area to himself—or so he thought. Dripping wet from his swim, he lay down on a towel on the sand and closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of the sun on his skin.
"Mind if I share the beach with you?" a voice asked.
Larry opened his eyes and saw Patricia Dalton standing above him, smiling down.
"No, not at all."
To his surprise, the popular young woman was nothing like he had imagined. Although beautiful and wealthy, she was not in the least bit snobbish or arrogant.
"I didn't expect anyone to be here," she said as she took off her shorts and blouse, revealing a red bathing suit beneath. "This place is usually empty Sunday mornings. I'm glad to see I'm not the only person in town whose soul needs saving."
"It's my only day off," Larry explained.
"And you don't want to waste it by listing to one of Reverend Ruger's boring fire-and-brimstone sermons."
He laughed at her humor, enchanted by her every word, her every move.
"Going back in the water?" she asked playfully.
Although Larry had planned on drying off and heading home, now that Patricia was with him, he had no desire to leave the lake. Eighteen months later the poor boy from the South married the richest girl in Kingston, not for money but for love.
* * *
Doctor Vargas came out of the delivery room with a smile on his face. It was his way of immediately reassuring the expectant father that all had gone well.
"Congratulations," he announced. "It's a healthy boy."
"And my wife?"
"She's fine. You can go in and visit her in a few minutes, once we've taken her to her room."
A boy. A son. They had already chosen a name for him: Henry, after Patricia's father. It was the least they could do considering everything his father-in-law had done for them.
His wife was lying on the bed, sipping water from a paper cup when Larry entered the hospital room.
"How are you feeling?" he asked.
"Tired. I must look absolutely awful!" she said, attempting to straighten her hair with her hand.
"No. You look beautiful."
"You always say that."
"Because it's true."
They spoke for several minutes, and then the nurse brought in their son.
"Now, there's a beautiful sight!" Patricia exclaimed as she stared down at the tiny face of the infant in her arms.
If Larry had to choose the happiest days of his life, this would no doubt be one of them. Sometimes he couldn't believe his good fortune. He often wondered if it was all a dream. Would he one day wake up and find himself back in his rented room at the boarding house, working his low-paying job at the factory, waiting for Saturday night when he would take Eloise Mackey out to the movies after his shift ended?
How could I have ever thought I would be content with such an existence? he wondered as he stared at his wife and baby. But then, until I met Patricia I never knew how wonderful life could be.
With the newborn sleeping peacefully in his mother's arms, the happy couple talked for more than two hours. Then Larry notice his wife was fighting to stay awake.
"Why don't you get some rest?" he suggested. "You've had quite a day."
"As much as I love being here with the two men in my life, I wouldn't mind getting some sleep."
Larry rang for the nurse to take the baby back to the nursery. Then he kissed his wife goodnight and headed toward the door, turning for one last look before he left the hospital.
My God! She's gorgeous!
* * *
After stopping by his office the following morning—his father-in-law had made him a vice president of the paper factory when he married Patricia—Larry headed over to the hospital to visit his wife. He passed by the nursery where he looked through the window at several babies sleeping in their beds. His son was not among them.
"Hi, Darling," he said and kissed his wife when he entered her room. "Did you get a good night's sleep?"
"I slept like a baby!" Patricia replied.
"Speaking of babies, where's Henry? I thought he'd be in here with you."
"He was. The nurse took him about twenty minutes ago."
Larry frowned.
"I just passed by the nursery; he wasn't there."
"The nurse must be giving him his bath."
As usual, Patricia did not appear to be worried. Why should she be? After all, nothing ever went wrong in her perfect world.
"My parents stopped by to see me this morning," she said. "Daddy has hired someone to help with things around the house. He doesn't think I should be worrying about laundry, cooking and housework just now."
"That's good. You can devote all your time to our son."
A blissful smile spread across her beautiful face.
"I like hearing that: our son."
The couple talked for another half an hour before a nurse entered the room.
"Sorry," she apologized for interrupting their conversation. "I came to get the baby, but I see Thelma beat me to it."
"Someone came by for him about an hour ago."
"Are you sure it was that long ago?"
"Yes. Another nurse came in before my husband arrived."
Although alarmed by the patient's words, the nurse tried not to show any emotion. Grim-faced, she went back to the nursery and checked the beds. Henry was not there.
Don't panic! she told herself. He's got to be here somewhere.
After checking all the areas of the nursery, including the room where the incubators were kept, she briefly visited each of the patients' rooms. There was no sign of the Sadlers' baby. Doing her best to remain calm, she phoned the head nurse at home.
"I'm sorry to bother you on your day off, but we have a terrible problem here," she informed her supervisor. "One of the babies is missing."
"Which one?"
"The Sadler child."
"Are you sure? Did you check everywhere in the ward?"
"Yes. The mother says a nurse went into her room and removed the baby about an hour earlier. It wasn't me, and Thelma couldn't have taken the baby then. She hadn't been on duty at the time. I was the only one here."
"Have you told the parents?"
"No. I didn't want to upset the mother."
"Good. Don't say a word to anyone just yet. I'll be there in a few minutes."
After performing another thorough search of the maternity ward, which also failed to locate the missing child, the head nurse telephoned the hospital administrator, who in turn phoned the police. Patricia and her husband were discussing her possible discharge date from the hospital when her father walked into the room with the Kingston chief of police, an old friend of the family.
"Uh oh," she said with a laugh. "Have you come to arrest me, Chief Dundee?"
The look of anguish on the men's faces frightened Larry. He knew at once they were not there for a pleasant visit.
"What is it?" he asked.
"I don't know how to say this, but it appears as though someone has taken your baby," Chief Dundee replied.
"Taken him?" Patricia repeated with amazement as though mentally unable to grasp the situation. "What do you mean taken him?"
"He's nowhere in this hospital," the policemen explained. "We believe someone has abducted him."
"Don't worry," Henry Dalton quickly assured his daughter. "We'll get him back. I'll pay whatever the kidnappers ask."
There were no tears, so screams from the new mother, only a look of bewilderment as she attempted to grasp the severity of the situation.
"While we're waiting for the kidnappers to make contact," Chief Dundee said, "I'd like you to try to describe to our police artist the woman who took your child."
"You mean the nurse?"
"She didn't work for the hospital. The woman you saw was apparently one of the kidnappers dressed in a nurse's uniform and hat."
The initial shock was beginning to wear off, and the horror was setting in.
"And I just handed over my baby to her!"
For the first time in her privileged, protected life, Patricia had to deal with tragedy. To see her cry over her missing child tore at the hearts of the three men in the room, none of whom could comfort her.
Later that afternoon, as Patricia sat with the police sketch artist, describing to the best of her ability the stranger in the nurse's uniform, her husband and father went to their respective homes to see if the kidnappers had attempted to make contact.
"Nothing's here," Larry told Chief Dundee. "At least nothing I can see. I checked the mailbox, underneath the front door, in the newspaper. No note."
"They might try to contact you by phone. We'll have a man here to try to trace the call if it comes in."
"You want me to stay by the phone all day?"
"No. I don't think that will be necessary. I'm sure the kidnappers are keeping an eye on you. They'll know when you're home, when you're at the office or when you visit your wife. They'll know when to contact you."
"So, all we do is wait?"
"That's all we can do, I'm afraid."
* * *
Two days later, with no medical reason to keep her at the hospital, Patricia went home.
"You really ought to stay with us," her mother urged. "You don't want to be by yourself when Larry is at work."
"As much as I'd love to be with you and Daddy right now, I want to stay near the phone in case the ... in case someone should call."
Patricia refused to use the word kidnappers. Since her son went missing she fought to keep newspaper images of the Lindbergh baby from her mind. Nearly two decades ago, the remains of the twenty-month-old child were found in a wooded area less than a mile from the parents' home. His family had been willing to pay the ransom, and yet .... No! She must not think about that. Henry would be returned to her alive and well. However, the beautiful, rich girl was no longer certain of a rosy future. A crack had appeared in her perfect world, and it was in danger of shattering.
For the next forty-eight hours, she remained inside her house, never more than twenty feet away from the telephone. Each day she checked the mail and the newspaper, not once or twice but three times.
"It's been days since Henry went missing," Larry told Chief Dundee, "and we haven't had a word from anyone."
He had hoped the policeman would give him reassurances, tell him that it was common for kidnappers to wait several days before making contact. However, Dundee was not a man to sugarcoat bad news.
"We have to consider the possibility that this might not be an abduction for ransom situation."
"What are you getting at, Chief?"
"There might be another reason why this woman took your son."
"What other reason could there be except money?"
"Some women who lose a child of their own become so distraught ...."
"You think some nut lost a baby and then walked into a hospital and took another one right out of its mother's arms?"
"That's one possible scenario," Dundee replied.
"Great! An insane woman might have our child."
"If that's the case, there's little danger in her wanting to harm the child."
"Or any hope of us getting him back," Larry cried with frustration.
"Are you certain you've never seen the woman before?"
"I didn't see the woman in the nurse's uniform. I didn't arrive at the hospital until after the baby was gone."
"What about before the baby was born? Did you ever see her near your house? At a social event with your wife and her family?"
"I don't even know what she looks like."
"You didn't see the sketch our artist made from your wife's description?" Chief Dundee asked with disbelief.
"No."
"I can't believe one of my detectives didn't show it to you," the policeman complained as he reached into his pocket for a copy of the drawing. "This is the woman."
The color drained from Larry's face, and his mouth fell open with astonishment.
"You know her!"
"I knew her," Larry admitted, as he returned the picture to the police chief with a trembling hand. "I met her when I first moved to Kingston."
"How do you know her?"
"I met her through a friend, Hal Scully. We were in the war together. He got me a job in the factory here once we got back to the States."
"I'm going to have one of my detectives talk to you. I want you to tell him everything you know about this woman. Try to remember as much as possible. It's our only hope of getting your son back."
* * *
When Detective Coolidge and Chief Dundee arrived at the Sadler home, Patricia was sitting on the sofa between her parents. Her husband was sitting in a chair across the room, with a class of whiskey in his hand.
"Any luck finding her?" Henry Dalton asked, anxious for good news.
"Her landlady said she left town more than two years ago," Coolidge answered.
"But I saw her!" Patricia insisted. "She came into my room and took my baby."
Larry said nothing. Brooding, he simply poured himself another whiskey.
"There's little doubt that this Eloise Mackey abducted the child. I'm just saying she left Kingston not long before you and your husband were married."
"So you think Larry's old girlfriend—a woman he dated for only a few months before he met me—was so angry at being jilted that she took our baby out of some sick desire for revenge?"
"It appears so," the detective confirmed.
"You've got to find her!" Henry ordered, his voice thundering with anger. "Did you contact the state police?"
"Yes," Chief Dundee answered. "And the FBI as well. You might even want to hire the Pinkertons. The more men we have on this, the sooner we'll find her."
"You don't think she'd hurt him, do you?" Patricia asked the two policemen.
"If she's that angry with your husband, there's no saying what she might do," the detective replied.
"Oh, God, no!" the distraught mother screamed, seeking the security of her father's protective arms.
This is all my fault! Larry thought, hating himself for causing the woman he loved such misery.
He put the half-empty glass of whiskey on the end table and removed his car keys from his pocket.
"Where are you going?" his father-in-law inquired.
"I'm going to go look for her."
"Where?" his wife asked. "Do you know where she might be?"
"No, but I have to do something. I can't just sit here and wait any longer. After all, I'm the one that caused this whole mess."
"That's not true!" Patricia cried, running to her husband. "You couldn't possibly have known that Eloise Mackey had serious emotional problems. No one blames you for her actions."
Larry threw his arms around his wife and hugged her tightly.
"I would give anything to bring the smile back to your face," he cried.
"We'll get little Henry back. You'll see. Everything will be fine."
There was no conviction in her voice, however. She fully realized that her life was not charmed, that neither her beauty nor her father's money could keep heartbreak away.
"Yes," he replied, as he gazed once more at her beautiful face. "I'm sure it will."
* * *
Larry drove for more than two hours before finally parking his car beside a heavily wooded area at the top of Mount Wilson. Nearby were a number of small cabins where during the warmer months vacationers came to experience the peaceful natural setting. In November, however, few people visited the area. After a short search, he found the dirt path, the same one he and Eloise had taken two years earlier.
This is the place, he realized when he saw the trunk of a massive pine tree that had been downed nearly a decade ago by a nor'easter.
He tightly grasped the handle of his spade and leaned forward. No sooner did the shovel pierce the ground than he heard the cry of a baby. He straightened and turned.
"Please don't hurt him," Larry tearfully begged.
"I'll bet our son would have looked like him, if he'd had the chance to be born, that is."
"I'm so very sorry!"
"Sorry?" Eloise Mackey screamed. "Sorry for what? For luring me up to these cabins with the promise of marriage and a happy life together? For murdering me and our unborn child and then burying us beside a rotting tree trunk in the middle of nowhere? Or are you sorry for not having given a thought to us as you and your rich wife brought this child into the world?"
"I'll do anything you want; just please don't take your anger out on my innocent child."
"Is this baby any more innocent than the one I was carrying when you killed me? Was my unborn baby any less your son than hers is?"
"No," Larry replied, falling to his knees before the woman he had wronged.
"When I came to you and told you I was pregnant, all you thought about was her."
"I was a bastard! I admit it. All I cared about was what Patricia might do if she found out. I begged you to go away and have the baby, but you wouldn't."
"Where was I to go? How was I going to support myself and our child? I didn't have a rich father like she does."
"Please, Eloise. There must be something I can do to make up for what I've done. If you want me to go to the police and turn myself in, just say so. I don't give a damn what happens to me."
"No, all you care about is Patricia. How do you think she'll feel when she learns you murdered your pregnant girlfriend in order to marry her? Do you think she'll still love you? Do you think she'll stand by you after you're arrested and brought to trial? What about when they execute you? Or maybe her father's money will be able to get you a nice, long jail sentence instead of the death penalty."
"Just give her back her child. Neither of them did you any harm. I'm the one who deserves to be punished."
"And what better way to do that than to destroy the people you love most?"
All the sorrow and disappointment in his life combined could not match the torment Larry felt in that moment. Despite what he had done to her, Eloise had loved him every bit as much as he loved Patricia. Her heart, unlike his, was moved to pity.
"If you really want to save your son, start digging," she said.
He picked up the fallen shovel and dug. Working at a hectic pace, he soon uncovered a skeletal hand.
"Keep it up," she instructed when he momentarily stopped. "But move further to the right. You're not unearthing my grave. You're digging your own."
Once the hole was of sufficient size to hold his body, Larry stopped digging.
"Now lay down in there," Eloise ordered.
He obeyed without question, never once trying to save himself, not even when Eloise laid the baby on the ground and began shoveling soil over his still living body. He closed his eyes, not wanting the last face he saw to be that of the woman he murdered. Instead, his mind's eye replayed cherished memories of the times he had shared with Patricia.
My God! She's gorgeous! he thought as he took his last breath.
* * *
Dr. Vargas closed the door to Patricia's bedroom and spoke to the young woman's worried parents.
"I've given your daughter a sedative. That ought to make her sleep."
"She's been through so much!" Mrs. Dalton cried, wringing her hands. "First her baby is abducted, and now her husband didn't come last night. Honestly, I don't know how much more that poor girl can take."
"I'm sure our daughter is strong enough to get through whatever lies ahead," Henry said. "Besides, she still has us."
"Where are my manners? Can I get you a cup of coffee, Doctor?" Mrs. Dalton asked.
"No, I'd better get going. I have an office full of patients waiting for me."
When the physician departed, an eerie silence fell over the Sadlers' living room. Neither Henry nor his wife wanted to voice the fears that plagued them, so they suffered quietly. Suddenly, the telephone rang, shattering the uncomfortable stillness.
Henry, who was sitting nearest to the phone, answered.
"No," he told the caller. "This is her father speaking."
As he listened to the person on the other end of the line, Henry's face went through an amazing transformation.
"Yes, thank you. We'll be right down."
"Who was that?" his wife asked.
"That was Detective Coolidge. Someone left a baby on the hospital steps. The nurse in the maternity ward thinks it's our grandson."
"I'll go wake Patricia and tell her."
"No, not yet. If it's not him, I'd rather she didn't get her hopes up. You and I will go down there and see if it's little Henry or not."
Despite Dr. Vargas's sedative, Patricia did not have a restful slumber, waking up after a disturbing dream. As she lay in her bed, trying to fall back to sleep, she heard the front door open.
"Larry, is that you?" she called out.
Her father opened the bedroom door.
"No, it's me and your mother," he said, opening the door wider so that his wife could enter the room with the baby. "And your son."
* * *
Although the missing child was returned unharmed, Detective Coolidge continued to investigate the case. Sadly, he never confirmed the identity of the mysterious woman in the nurse's uniform or learned her motive for abducting little Henry Sadler. Nor was he able to locate the missing father, although he secretly suspected that Larry had run off with his old girlfriend. No one knew that his body was buried in a shallow grave on Mount Wilson beside the bones of the woman he'd murdered or that he had willingly laid down his life to save his son's.
I had no fears of Salem being kidnapped. In fact, I couldn't even give him away!
