By Joan Stephens
Monday morning dawned far too soon for Catherine. She hated leaving Vincent and the serenity of the tunnel community. But she had some necessary tasks to accomplish this day. Her main duty was to steer the forensic investigation away from the tunnel world. She was still in charge of the Smit case, as it was now called, so all information flowed through her to Joe.
The second task was a pleasant duty--a phone call to Adele Bennett. Catherine called as early as she could without awakening her older friend.
"Adele? How are you?" she asked when she heard the bright, chipper voice say hello.
"Cathy? It’s good to hear your voice. How are you?" There was a significant pause then the words tumbled out. "There’s news, isn’t there? Have you caught him?"
Smiling broadly at the older woman’s excitement, Cathy conceded, "Yes, there’s news."
"Good news?"
"Very good news. We found the man and he is dead." There was no need for Adele to know the details of what had happened.
"Thank god," was the fervent reply. Then, needing to be reassured, she asked, "You’re sure. There’s no mistake."
"We’re sure, Adele. There will be no more daughters killed, leaving mothers and families to mourn. It’s over."
There was dead silence on the other end of the line and Catherine heard a sob catch in Adele’s throat. Then, in a teary voice she said, "Thank god, it’s over. At least now I can sleep at night."
Catherine’s heart constricted at the pain in Adele’s voice. What could she say to Diana’s mother? "I’m sorry it took so long. I was beginning to despair of ever catching him then he made a monumental mistake--he left a single fingerprint. From then on, it was just a matter of time."
Her explanation gave the quietly weeping woman time to pull herself together. "Don’t apologize, Cathy. Remember, my daughter was a policewoman, and though she never confided in me, I do know that some cases drag on for years. I was prepared for that."
"Well, at least we got him. Now maybe life can go back to normal. I’ve got to go now but let’s keep in touch. Call me the next time you’re in town and we can get together."
"I’d like that. And thanks again for calling. Bye."
"Bye." Catherine thoughtfully hung up the phone. What would Adele think if she knew that Vincent and she had a deep and abiding relationship? Would she resent her for having what Diana wanted so badly? Adele would never know as she would never find out. She could never be told.
‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘
Finally, the forensics team was finished and had sent her a written report. Their conclusion was what she had hoped for: Smit and a John Pater, who had disappeared some thirty years ago, were responsible for the murders for reasons known only to themselves. All the victims had been tortured and murdered in a rock chamber found under the Manchester Apartments, located at 76th and 3rd then taken back to their respective homes. Smit had died of a broken neck and Pater had had his throat torn out by a person or persons unknown. The latest victim, ADA Catherine Chandler, could not identify her rescuer. With the death of Smit and Pater, the case was closed. Furthermore, the tunnel was to be permanently sealed. There was more but that was the gist of the report. She was delighted with their findings; the tunnel world was safe.
That night as Catherine read the report to Vincent, she could feel that he was very preoccupied. After finishing the report, she waited a few seconds for his comment. "Well?" she asked finally.
"What? Oh, I’m sorry, my heart, what did you say?" He brought his thoughtful gaze back to her.
"I said, what do you think of the report?"
"Fine. It’s fine," he answered remotely.
"What is it, Vincent? You seem so far away. What’s bothering you? Can I help?"
"Ah, love, you always help. I hesitate to tell you; I’m afraid it will hurt you."
"We won’t know until you tell me, love. I will do anything for you. You know that."
He lithely rose from the love seat to lean against the fireplace. Turning to her, he told her what he wanted to do.
Feeling his distress that he had hurt her, she quickly went to him and hugged him tightly. "I understand," she said. "I’ll see what I can do."
‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘‘
Vincent knelt beside Diana’s grave, one hand pressed into the grass that covered her final resting place. "Good bye, Diana. Thank you for loving me. Forgive me for not being the one you needed. I can only hope that what love I was able to give you was enough." He paused, resting his large hands on his knees, his head bowed, thinking of the talented life the world had lost. "Know that I am happy and that I have found love." He paused again, as if he was wondering what to say. "I shall never forget you. Rest well, my friend."
Smoothly, he rose, brushing the new-mown grass from his knees. Slowly, he walked over to where Catherine waited, slightly apart, granting him the privacy he needed. With down cast eyes, he stopped and stood, silent, for several minutes in front of her.
Tentatively, she raised her hand and cupped his cheek. Anxiously, she asked, "Are you all right?"
"Yes, Catherine, I am." He pulled her in to him and tucked her head under his chin. They stayed that way for several minutes, then he said, "I have laid an old regret to rest and let go any guilt that still remained."
"Of not loving her enough?" she asked, understanding him better than he knew.
"Yes."
"Oh, Vincent, don’t you know? You gave her the greatest gift that one person can give to another. You let her love you, and you accepted her, never expecting anything more than she was able to give you. That was a great gift."
His heart soared with the realization that all regret and guilt had been lifted from his heart and he was, at last, free of the past. He stepped back, looked down at her and said, seriously, "I love you, Catherine Chandler."
"I know," she answered, "I feel your love flowing around me every minute of every day."
Gazing up at him with love and tranquility, her mouth begged to be kissed. He captured her upturned lips in a kiss of complete commitment. He was hers; body, heart, and soul. Breaking the kiss, he tucked her head under his chin, once again, and wound his arms around her. As he gazed over the top of her head into the distance, he saw a hint of auburn red that slowly formed into the figure of Diana, striding purposely toward an open door from which spilled a soft, comfortable white light. Just before she entered the door, she turned with a loving smile and waved once. The door shut with a finality that marked the closure to that phase of his life. "Good bye, Diana," he breathed.
Taking Catherine’s hand, he raised it to his lips, and then he twined his fingers with hers. "Come. Let’s go home." He led her back to the van that had transported them from the city to St. Joseph’s Cemetery in Ellendale, taking the first step into the new life that awaited him. The new life that held all his dreams. And all those dreams were wrapped up in one small person: Catherine.
The End