As Time Goes By (34 page)

Lisa tried to open the front door but Scott yanked her back. He had his hands on her throat, shouting as he was choking her. “Give it to me. Why couldn't you just stay out of it?”

Delaney slipped the cell phone into her jacket pocket and rushed back into the foyer.

Scott's hands tightened on Lisa's throat. “Alan promised me over a million dollars. It would have been twice that when Betsy was convicted.”

Delaney knew there was only one thing she could do. She lifted the pestle and slammed it on the side of Scott's head. He dropped his grip on Lisa, turned and lunged at her. Blood was spewing from a gash on his forehead.

Desperately, she swung the pestle again, this time hitting the side of his face. With a snarl he tore the pestle out of her hand and raised it to strike her.

She stumbled back and the pestle missed her by inches. Then, as Scott raised it again, the door burst open and three cops, their guns drawn, rushed in.

“Freeze, and put your hands up,” one of them shouted.

Delaney pulled her phone out of her jacket. Her voice almost incoherent, she asked, “Did you get all that? Did you get that?”

The 9-1-1 operator's voice was adamant, “I sure did, loud and clear, ma'am. I sure did.”

Delaney exhaled. “Send your recording of this call to the following number right now. It's the prosecutor's office.”

E
lliot Holmes, tasting victory in the most publicized case in his career, was listening to Robert Maynard's fiery summation. He was itching for it to finish so that he could get up and deliver his own.

All of a sudden, the door to the courtroom flew open and an assistant prosecutor rushed to where he was sitting. Furious, he snarled, “This had better be important.”

Visibly annoyed, Judge Roth said, “This is an unfair distraction to the defense attorney and to the jury.”

Prosecutor Holmes stood up. “I most sincerely apologize to the court, the jury and the defense counsel. Please give me just one moment.”

Holmes took the cell phone from the assistant and looked at a picture of Scott Clifton surrounded by Ridgewood policemen. One of the police officers was holding the pestle. The text explained what had occurred. Elliot Holmes knew that his case was over.

“Your Honor, I request a fifteen-minute break to listen to a recording that is on this phone. This may be critical to the outcome of this case.”

The judge realized that something enormous must have happened. “We will take a brief break. I instruct the jury not to discuss what you have just seen.”

Robert Maynard sat next to Betsy during the recess. “Betsy, I don't know what is happening, but my gut tells me that it is good for us. Otherwise, they wouldn't dare interrupt my summation like this.”

Twenty minutes later, a shell-shocked Elliot Holmes addressed the court. “Your Honor, the prosecutor's office always diligently seeks to ensure justice. I have been informed that Dr. Scott Clifton has been arrested at his home in the last hour and the marble pestle has been recovered there. I have also listened to an audio recording of the events surrounding his arrest, where he made certain admissions regarding the murder of Dr. Edward Grant. He has implicated both himself and Alan Grant.”

Holmes's voice broke. “Your Honor, I must conclude that there has been a tragic miscarriage of justice. The state no longer believes that Betsy Grant killed her husband or was involved in any way. The state deeply regrets the suffering she has endured.

“Your Honor, the state moves to dismiss the indictment.”

Cheers erupted in the courtroom. The judge gently instructed the spectators to remain quiet.

All Betsy could think of was how close she had come to swallowing the pills last night.

Judge Roth spoke. “I have listened to the prosecutor's representations of the extraordinary developments which have occurred, literally, in the last hour. The prosecutor is satisfied that, based upon these developments, the defendant Betsy Grant is innocent. The prosecutor has acknowledged that there has been a terrible miscarriage of justice. Fortunately, this new evidence has come to light prior to a verdict in this case, which, if guilty, would have resulted in lengthy incarceration.” The judge paused. “This indictment is dismissed. Mrs. Grant, with the best wishes of the court, you are free to go.”

As cheers erupted again, Betsy tried to absorb those words. Free to go. Free to go.

As she slowly stood up, Robert Maynard's arm around her shoulder, she thanked the judge. Peter Benson, who had been watching Robert Maynard's summation in his hotel room, had raced down to the courthouse when Elliot Holmes requested the brief break to evaluate the information that had just been received. Peter had slipped into the back row of the courtroom just as Holmes started to tell the judge what had occurred and his reasons for asking that the indictment be dismissed.

As soon as the judge told Betsy that she was free to go, Peter hurried forward toward the defense table. A sheriff's officer briefly began to intercept him, but Judge Roth waved him off. Betsy and Maynard turned to leave the courtroom. They had just taken a couple of steps when Betsy saw Peter coming toward her. Maynard stepped aside as Peter put his arm under hers and said, “I'll take care of her now.” He looked into Betsy's eyes. “And always.”

D
elaney waited three days before she called Betsy and asked if she could stop over and see her. “Of course, you can,” Betsy said. “I know how you were rooting for me. I wondered why you didn't cover the last week of the trial.”

“I promise I'll explain that to you,” Delaney answered. “By any chance will Mr. Benson also be there?” As she expected, the reply was yes.

Her heart was in her throat as she drove to Alpine. She exchanged greetings with Betsy and Peter, and they went into the living room and sat down. Delaney leaned forward, clasped her hands and in a voice trembling with emotion said, “I have something to tell you. It's something I learned only a few days ago. Betsy, you said on the witness stand how you have yearned for your child every day of your life. In exactly the same way I have yearned for my birth mother.” Delaney looked from one to the other. “And now I have found not only my mother, but my father too.”

As Betsy and Peter, incredulous, tried to comprehend what she was saying, Delaney continued. “I was born at 22 Oak Street in Philadelphia on March 16th, twenty-six years ago. My grandparents were Martin and Rose Ryan. . . .”

Six months later

Alan Grant and Dr. Scott Clifton are awaiting trial on an indictment charging them with the murder of Dr. Edward Grant. Dr. Clifton is also charged with the attempted murder of Lisa Clifton. Their lawyers have tried to cut deals for them by offering to testify against each other. Both face life in prison.

Jonathan's investigation uncovered evidence that Dr. Clifton provided the drugs that had caused Steven Harwin to overdose. Dr. Clifton is awaiting trial on a second indictment in that case.

Tony Sharkey received three years in prison for the attempted burglary of the Saddle River home. At Betsy Grant's request, he was not prosecuted for the burglary of her home. He told Judge Roth at his sentence that “All things considered, this ain't so bad.”

A week after the trial ended, as Carmen was packing the medical books to send to Dr. Adams, she found one with a hollow center. It contained three prescriptions pads in Dr. Ted Grant's name, filled out and signed supposedly by him. Were these pads what he so desperately wanted to
find
?

Alvirah had called Sam to say that she really didn't need to retile her apartment, but she insisted on sending him a five-thousand-dollar check to show her gratitude for his priceless information. Sam thanked her profusely and assured her that if she ever really
does
need new tile . . .

Betsy and Peter were married by Monsignor Quinn at St. Francis Xavier. As Betsy, lovely in a champagne-lace gown, and Peter, handsome and distinguished in a dark blue suit and silver tie, exchanged their vows, Delaney blinked back happy tears. My mother, my father, she thought.

Delaney was Betsy's maid-of-honor. Peter's closest friend, Professor Frank Reeves, was his best man.

The reception was at Betsy's house in Alpine. As a wedding gift Jennifer Wright compiled an album of pictures of Delaney starting when she was a few days old. “This way you can follow her from the beginning.” She smiled as she handed it to Betsy.

Delaney had asked Betsy and Peter if it would be all right to call them by their first names. They had understood immediately. There had been visible happiness on Jennifer's face when she knew she was the only one Delaney would ever call “Mom.”

That evening was a wedding celebration and a reunion. The people they cared most about were there. Jennifer and James Wright, Delaney's big brothers and their wives, Peter's mother, Alvirah and Willy who had made this day possible, Lisa Clifton and Delaney's beloved nanny Bridget O'Keefe. My family, Delaney thought joyfully.

Jon came over to her carrying two glasses of champagne. “It doesn't get any better than this,” he said.

Then as she sipped champagne, Delaney looked across the room at Bridget who was deep in conversation with Alvirah. She remembered Bridget's warning,
When things seem so good, there's trouble on the way.

Not this time, Bridget, she thought happily. As you also said when you were positive about something, “
I can feel it in my bones.
”

The #1
New York Times
bestselling author
MARY HIGGINS CLARK
has written thirty-five suspense novels, four collections of short stories, a historical novel, a memoir, two children's books, and most recently collaborated with Alafair Burke on a new series: the Under Suspicion novels. With her daughter Carol Higgins Clark, Clark has coauthored five more suspense novels. Her books are international bestsellers with more than one hundred million copies in print in the United States alone.