All That Glitters (5 page)

He walked along by the River Seine to clear his head and mull over the facts he had just uncovered. Soon he came to the place where so many years ago he had found Hildy’s wig, her horn-rimmed glasses, and the chloroform soaked handkerchief with Gregory Wilcox’s initials on it, lying on the ground.

He shuddered as the memories came flooding back. That was when they had made the awful discovery that Greg had kidnapped Hildy and her friend, Roger Fielding, and left them in the snowy French Alps to die.

As he sat down on one of
the benches to think, time seemed to disappear into thin
air. The lights were just coming on around the streets
of Paris when he pulled himself out of his deep
probing and realized he was quite hungry. He had been
so deep in thought he had forgotten about lunch.

He looked at his watch. Almost seven-thirty, time to return to the hotel and freshen up. He arrived just as the others returned. “Hi!” he greeted them. “How was the tour?”

“Just great!” Hildy enthused. “It hasn’t changed much. Just like old times.”

She seemed more relaxed, which gave Zack mixed feelings. He felt it was important to find out more about Francois before she let her guard down.

After freshening up, they all met in the lobby again at eight o’clock, and entered the restaurant together. Just as it had been many years ago, the same musician, a bit older, with gray hair and a few wrinkles, was playing the piano by the fountain. The blending of the music and the cascading water was soothing. The beautiful strains of Debussy’s “Clair de Lune” floated over to them.

This false sense of tranquility, however, didn’t fool Zack for one moment. He hadn’t had a chance to tell Jay anything about what he had found at the library. He was disappointed that he hadn’t found more. Maybe I shouldn’t say anything until I do more research, he mused. He was so lost in thought that at first he didn’t hear Jay speak to him.

“Is that okay with you?” Jay asked.

Zack didn’t answer.

“Zack? Zack, where were you?”

Zack suddenly came to. “Oh—what?”

“We decided to go to Versailles tomorrow. Is that okay?”

“Yes—anything you want to plan,” he answered.

They finished dinner and retired to their rooms to get a good night’s rest for their tour of Versailles the next day.

Zack no sooner entered his room, when there was a knock on the door. It was Jay.

“Come in,” Zack said. “I had a feeling you’d want to talk to me.” He peered down the hall to make sure no one was spying on them, nodded, closed the door, and motioned for Jay to sit down.

Jay came right to the point. “You found out something today. Am I right?”

Zack paused for a moment before answering.

“What is it, Zack?” Jay persisted.

“I went to the library,” Zack replied. “What I found out puzzles me. Before Francois’ father married Francois’ mother, he was married for six years to a Countess Vivienne Poitiers. She was killed in a horseback riding accident. He married Countess Lilli Claude just one month later.” He rose from his chair and paced nervously, then turned and faced Jay as he made a startling statement. “Francois II, Cammie’s fiancé, was born five years before Francois I and Lilli were married, but I couldn’t find any record of a previous marriage for Lilli. I can’t help feeling there’s more to this than meets the eye.”

“Maybe Francois’ father was having an affair with Francois’ mother while he was married to his first wife,” Jay suggested.

Zack shrugged. “Maybe. But that makes me wonder—” he faltered and frowned.

“Wonder what?” Jay asked.

“Oh—nothing. What I’m thinking is probably off the wall.”

“What? Tell me!” Jay demanded.

Zack spoke bluntly. “The whole
thing seems too damn pat!” he stated.

“You mean—someone wanted Vivienne out of the way?” Jay asked, stunned.

Zack nodded. “Vivienne’s death, and the Count marrying Lilli so soon afterward.”

Now it was Jay’s turn to pace.

Zack tried to allay the fears he knew Jay was feeling. “Jay, don’t mention this to anyone, or start imagining things, until we find out more about it. I’ll go to Versailles with you tomorrow so I won’t arouse suspicion. But day after tomorrow, I’m going back to the library again and hunt some more. I have a few ideas. And when we get to Nuits, I’ll research some more. Let’s wait until we find out more about this before coming to any conclusions. There may be nothing to it, but I can’t help feeling there is.”

“I’d better get back to Hildy,” Jay said as he looked at. his watch. “She’ll be wondering what’s taking so long.” He paused at the doorway, then turned back. “Was there anything else?”

Zack frowned. “I wish I could talk some sense into Cammie. But I don’t think at this point she’d listen. She’s mesmerized by Francois and everything he’s offering her. I can’t figure out if she’s really in love with this guy, or merely playing another role—this time as a would-be Countess. It’s all happened so fast, and she has such a sense of the drama.” He could see that Jay was deeply disturbed. “Stop worrying, Jay. Worry never solved anything. Wait till I find out something more concrete. Don’t say anything to Hildy. There’s no sense in worrying her before we find out if there’s anything to worry about.” He walked over to the door and put a comforting hand on Jay’s shoulder. “Hang in there,” he said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

* * *

Jay left and returned to his
room, disappointed and discouraged. He had hoped Zack had discovered
something that would justify putting a stop to the wedding.
In spite of the fact that Francois was a Count,
and considered a great catch, he felt that Cammie could
do better—a lot better. He wanted the best for his
daughter, and he didn’t feel that Francois was it.

When he entered his room, Hildy was watching one of her musicals which was being shown on television. He smiled, making a great effort not to show the concern he was feeling. He pulled up an easy chair and settled down to enjoy the movie with her. They watched in silence, neither one wanting to burden the other with their doubts.

How they wished that Cammie would meet someone else! But how could that possibly happen in the next three weeks?

CHAPTER VII
 

Jeremy Douglass hurried through the International Terminal at Kennedy Airport in New York, on his way to the plane that would take him to Orly Airport in Paris, France. He had just checked his luggage, and was carrying only a briefcase containing his laptop computer, which he intended to work with en route to his destination.

He was completely oblivious to the many admiring glances as he passed by. With his light brown hair, blue eyes, and handsome chiseled features, he caused quite a stir. One would wonder, perhaps, if he weren’t some famous movie star, his looks were so striking.

But all he was aware of was the dream he had last night—a recurring dream that was an extension of faint memories which had haunted him since early childhood. This one was so vivid, it finally spurred him on to do what he had thought of doing many times before—go to France and see if he couldn’t find the place he kept seeing in these dreams.

One of the many things that puzzled him was the fact that although he spoke perfect English, having been brought up in Scarsdale, New York, he also spoke fluent French, and had no recollection of ever having learned it. His parents often conversed with him in French, and he always understood them.

They had told him some years ago that he was adopted at the age of five, but nothing more about his background. He was twenty-six now, but he remembered how agitated they became when he once suggested they vacation in France, since they all spoke the language.

“You must never go there!” his father warned him.

“Please!” his mother pleaded. “Don’t ever go to France! You need protection!”

When Jeremy asked them what they meant, they refused to tell him anymore.

Protection? Protection from what? Had he lived in France before he was adopted? What was the big mystery?

He had complied
with their wishes while they were still living, but they
were gone now, and when these vivid dreams started and
wouldn’t quit, he could no longer ignore them. He finally
decided to follow his hunches.

He placed his laptop computer under the seat in front of him, ready to pick up and use once they were airborne. He had stored in it everything he could remember of these dreams, hoping that somehow they would strike a chord in his memory, and bring forth more information.

He settled his six foot, two-inch, slender body into the wide comfortable recliner in the First Class section of the plane and fastened his seat belt, ready for takeoff.

He put his head back and closed his eyes. In his mind’s eye he could see a huge building made of stone—possibly a Chateau—and a river that flowed by it. He remembered horses—many horses—and a stable where they were housed.

And something new had come to him in his dream last night. To the right of the stables, maybe fifty yards away, he saw a footbridge over a deep ravine. He blinked and tried to remember more, but it was gone. He had no idea what town it was in, but was convinced it was somewhere in France.

He must have dozed off. The next thing he knew the stewardess was waking him and serving him his lunch. He thanked her as she placed the tray in front of him.

As soon as he finished eating, the movie came on the screen. He decided to take a break and watch it instead of working with his computer as he had planned. It was a beautiful love story of bygone days, situated in a rural setting somewhere in France.

Suddenly he sat bolt upright in his seat! The stone building he had dreamed about was on the screen as big as life! It even showed the stables and the footbridge that he remembered! Where is it? he wondered. The name of the town in the movie was fictitious, but now he had seen the Chateau, and he knew it was more than just a dream. It was real.

As soon as the movie was over he rang for the stewardess. “Do you know where this movie was filmed?” he asked her.

She shook her head. “No, Sir, I’m afraid I don’t. It was a great movie, wasn’t it?”

Jeremy merely nodded, his thoughts far away in his boyhood. He turned back to her. “Do you have any brochure on the movie?”

“I’ll look for you, Sir,” she answered.

She reached for the magazine in the back pocket of the seat in front of him. She thumbed through the pages until she came to the list of movies.

“Sir, the movie was produced by Allied Productions in Hollywood, California. Maybe when you get to Paris you can contact them. You’re welcome to take this magazine with you.” She smiled and handed it to him. “Will that be all, Sir?”

“Yes. Thank you. You’ve been very helpful.”

For the first time since he started having these dreams he was hopeful. Maybe at last I’ll find out where I came from, he thought, and who my real parents are. He picked up his computer and added this new information.

The rest of the flight was smooth and uneventful, but Jeremy was so anxious to get to Paris that he felt much like a dreamer who tries to run under the bed clothes and can’t make his legs move. Although the plane was flying as fast as it usually did, he felt he was getting nowhere. He knew he couldn’t make it fly any faster, but he couldn’t help mentally urging it on, as though somehow this would help to get him there sooner. He dozed off and on, waking up every few minutes to look at his watch.

They had been flying for five hours, and the dawn was beginning to break. The first faint beams of light were fighting their way through the windows of the plane and across the cabin. He could smell the coffee brewing, and soon the stewardess was standing beside him, ready to serve him breakfast.

As she lifted the cover off the container, the delicious aroma wafted up to him, and gave him the contented feeling he used to have when his adoptive parents were still alive. He loved them very much, and he missed them. He only wished they had told him more about who he really was. But as he ate, he reminded himself that he was closer to the truth now than he was when he left New York.

Soon the seat belt sign came on, and the pilot announced that they were approaching Orly Airport. The landing was smooth, and they soon taxied in to the gate.

Jeremy grabbed his computer and tote bag, ready to leave as soon as the plane came to a stop and the doors opened. He sped down the long corridor to the carousel and picked up his luggage. He went outside and hailed one of the long line of cabs that was waiting outside. “La Grande Veue Hotel, s’il vous plait,” he told the driver.

As they drove through the streets of Paris, it all seemed strangely familiar, although he couldn’t remember ever having visited here. This gave him an eerie feeling, as though he had traveled this way before in some long remembered story or dream. As soon as he was in his room, he stretched out on the bed, suddenly exhausted—probably from his emotions running the gamut. Mixed with the exhaustion was a feeling of intense excitement.

It was hours later when he finally woke up, very hungry. He looked at his watch. Five o’clock in the afternoon. Eight in the morning in California, he figured. Too early to call the producer of the film he had just seen. They probably don’t open until ten, he mused. As he rose and looked out the window, he could see the River Seine in full view, with lighted boats floating down stream, full of happy passengers. Across the river, up high in a building, he could see what looked like a restaurant, with lights just beginning to come on, and reflected in the river. I’ll eat dinner there some night, he decided—but not tonight. I’ll eat downstairs, make my phone call, and then tour the streets of Paris. Maybe I’ll see something that will jog my memory.

He dressed and went down to the hotel restaurant. As he entered, he noticed Cammie, who was dining with her parents, her friends, and Francois. Jeremy recognized her immediately, having seen her several times in various musicals.