Maison Blanche Revisited

Chapter 4: Dawn's Early Light 

MOVING AS ONE, BO AND BILLIE caught the exhausted Roman under the arms before he fell to the floor. Taking most of his brother’s weight, Bo gestured with his head toward an open doorway. “Let’s get him to the study.” Billie nodded agreement, and together they manhandled their limp burden down the hall to the ornate study and laid him on the sofa. As Billie put a pillow under his head Roman roused and started to protest, but Bo silenced him with a look and turned to Billie. “I’m going to check on John. Will you stay here with him? Don’t let him up, even if you have to sit on him.”

“I’ll take care of him,” Billie assured him. “Go to John. I love you,” she said softly, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

“I love you too, babe.” Bo kissed her in swiftly in return, silently thanking God for finding him such a treasure, then headed back toward the hall, throwing a final admonition of “You stay put,” to Roman just before he disappeared through the doorway.

The moment Bo was gone Roman lifted his head from the pillow and started to get up, and was stunned when Billie put her hand on his chest and pushed him back down. “Bo said to stay put. And what he says goes for me too. Just think of me as your sister from now on, Roman.” Then she thrust her left hand in front of his face and he found himself staring at a glittering engagement ring.

“Ah, congratulations,” he choked.

“Thank you. Now lay down.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he sighed, but even as he laid his head back and closed his eyes, he couldn’t help but imagine the pain his brother must be going through right now as he caught his first glimpse of the dying man he loved so much. Be strong, Bo, he prayed. Be strong.

Bo paused outside the kitchen, trying to steel himself for what lay within. John was dying. It couldn’t be true, it just couldn’t. Despite his anger the last several months over John and Marlena’s affair, he still loved them both. They were family. Now John was dying, and Marlena...what might be happening to Marlena was too dreadful to contemplate. Taking a deep breath, he opened the kitchen door and stepped inside.

The bed sat in the middle of the large gleaming room. A young man in the uniform of a Louisiana state trooper sat on its edge, checking a thermometer. From his face, as he turned to look at Bo, what he had seen there clearly wasn’t encouraging. His heart thudding in his chest, Bo walked toward the bed, answering the unasked question he saw on the trooper’s face. “I’m Bo Brady. Roman’s brother. I made Roman lie down for a while. How’s John?”

The trooper stood up, still blocking Bo’s view of the bed’s occupant, and held out his hand. “Trooper Martin Franklin,” he introduced himself as Bo grasped his hand briefly. “I’m afraid he’s not any better,” he said with a frown. “We’ve been packing him in ice for hours, but his temperature just won’t go down.”

“What can I do to help?”

“I have to talk to the doctor and get some more ice. While I’m doing that, you can sponge his face with ice water.” He pointed to a nearby bowl of ice cubes and water with a dishtowel soaking in it. “But just bathe his face--don’t try to wash his hair, even though it’s filthy. He may have serious head injuries and the doctor doesn’t want us doing anything that might make them worse.” Then Franklin strode to a nearby wall phone, allowing Bo to see John for the first time.

“Oh, my God!” he gasped, staring in horror at the gaunt face, sunken eyes and blood-matted hair of his former brother. The rest of John’s body, surrounded by bags of melting ice, was concealed under a sheet from the neck down...a sheet stained red in several places from other injuries Bo didn’t even want to imagine. He turned his gaze back to John’s face, and a knot formed in his stomach as there arose unbidden in his mind a picture of Isabella...Isabella as he had last seen her, just before she and John had departed for Italy. The look he had seen on her face then was the same look he now saw on John’s...the look of death.

“Oh, bro,” he mourned softly, brushing his hand across John’s forehead. It was burning hot, and he quickly wrung icy water from the soaking towel and gently bathed John’s face with it’s cool moisture. It soon lost its coolness, however, as it came in contact with John’s fevered skin, and Bo was about to dip it back in the bowl when he heard an exclamation from Franklin.

“Thank God, doctor! That’s great! Tell that pilot he deserves a medal! See you soon. Bye!” Franklin practically danced as he hung up the phone and spun around to Bo. “Get your brother!” he said excitedly. “The chopper’s on the way!”

Buffeted by heavy rain and still powerful winds, the helicopter landed on the broad expanse of lawn behind the mansion. Even on the ground it was rocked by the wind, and from his view at the kitchen window Bo could see the pilot remaining at the controls to keep it steady while the large rear door slid open and three figures leaped to the ground. They pulled a stretcher loaded with equipment from the open bay and hurried up the gently sloping lawn toward the house.

Roman met the three men at the back door just off the kitchen and quickly led them inside. They immediately moved to the bed and the two younger men started unpacking equipment while the third, an African-American in his late forties, addressed the six anxious bystanders. “I’m Dr. Harris. Which of you is Roman Brady?”

Roman stepped forward. “I am. It’s good to see you, doctor. I know you took a real risk coming out in this weather. We’re grateful.”

“I didn’t think we could wait any longer,” Harris replied, “and the pilot thought she could make it, so we came. I want to get him out of here ASAP. We’ll take his vitals, put him on a heart monitor and start an IV, then we’ll leave. Have you got those drugs you found.”

“They’re all in that box.” Roman gestured toward the table. “All we could find anyway.” Bo shivered as he looked at the box he had brought up from the basement only moments before, his stomach still churning from the horror evoked by the sight of John’s gruesome prison. “We may find more,” Roman continued, “after we make another search of the house.”

Harris nodded, then one of the paramedics who had been working on John called out, “He’s on the monitor, doctor, and we’ve started the IV.”

Harris immediately moved to the bed and bent over the equipment surrounding John. He and the paramedics spoke in low tones for several minutes, then the three of them gently lifted John’s limp body, still covered by the bloody sheet, and lowered him into the stretcher.

As the paramedics covered John with a blanket and started to secure straps around him, Harris turned back to the others. “His blood pressure and pulse are practically nonexistent,” he said gravely. “Unfortunately, until we know what drugs he was given, I don’t dare do anything more right now than start him on a saline solution.” He looked at Roman. “We have room for two more people in the helicopter. Do you want to come?”

“Yes.”

“So do I,” Bo added.

Roman introduced him. “This is my brother Bo. He just got here a little while ago.”

“All right,” Harris said as the paramedics covered John’s head with a flap of blanket and picked up the stretcher. “Grab your coats, gentlemen, and let’s get out of here.”

As Bo and Roman quickly shrugged into their coats, Roman spoke to the young trooper. “Get a forensics team out here as soon as you can, Franklin. Go over every inch of this place. See if you can get an architect out here too. Stefano loves tunnels and secret rooms: if he kept any records here, that’s probably where they’ll be.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Franklin assured him. “If there’s anything here to find, we’ll find it. Good luck.”

Roman nodded, gave Kristen a brief hug, clasped hands with Tony, then followed the paramedics and Dr. Harris out the door. Bo gave Billie a quick kiss and ran out after Roman.

The trip to the hospital was an exercise in sheer terror. Bo clung tightly to a strap, thinking grimly this was worse even than being caught in a storm at sea. When the chopper finally landed, both he and Roman struggled to find their land legs while the paramedics briskly loaded John’s stretcher on to a waiting gurney and headed at a run for the emergency doors. Dr. Harris, carrying the box of drugs, followed at a slightly slower pace, accompanied by the now steady Bradys. As they entered the hospital, they saw John disappearing down a long corridor and moved to join him, but Harris shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he told them, handing the box to a waiting nurse who headed down another corridor with it, “but you’ll have to wait here. We’re going to start the tests immediately and they’ll take quite a while. In conjunction with those tests we need to obtain John’s medical records. You said he’s your adopted brother. Can you authorize their release?”

Bo and Roman looked at each other in dismay. Legally they had no authority to act on John’s behalf. Roman switched his gaze back to Harris. “I’m afraid we’ve got a problem there, doctor. John’s ‘adoption’ is an informal arrangement between he and our family. We’re not legally related to him.”

“Does he have any next of kin you can get in touch with?”

Bo and Roman locked eyes. “Vivian?” they asked each other in comic disbelief.

Bo shook his head at the thought, answering for them both. “No way. That’d be like throwing a Christian to the lions. There has to be somebody else.” He pondered for a moment, then had a sudden inspiration. “Could somebody with John’s power of attorney release the records,” he asked the doctor, “and accept responsibility for his treatment?”

“Of course.”

“Who are you thinking of, Bo?” Roman asked.

“Victor. I know John gave him power of attorney when Isabella got sick, and I don’t think he ever rescinded it. He’d certainly be preferable to Vivian.”

“I guess we don’t have any choice,” Roman agreed. “Victor it is.”

“Who’s this Victor?” Harris asked.

“John’s father-in-law,” Bo replied, omitting his own complicated relationship. “He’s also on the board of University Hospital in Salem. He won’t have any trouble getting John’s records.”

Harris reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card. He handed it to Bo. “Can you get in touch with him right away? Here’s my fax number. He can have the records and his power of attorney sent directly to my office.”

“I’ll call right now.”

As Bo headed down the hall toward a bank of phones, Harris switched his attention back to Roman. “While he’s doing that, there’s something else I need to know, Roman. On the phone you said John had been drugged and brainwashed before. If he’s going to recover, it’s obvious we’re going to have to treat his mind as well as his body. It would be a big help if I knew what happened before, and the circumstances of this second attack.”

The circumstances of this attack? Roman watched Bo walk toward the phones, trying to get his thoughts in order. Those circumstances were something he really didn’t want to talk about. Telling the doctor about John also meant telling about himself. No matter how much he tried to deny it, he and John were inextricably linked...like Siamese twins who could never be separated. In revealing John’s painful past, he would also have to relive for a stranger his own moments of pain and betrayal and heartache. But in order for John to have the best chance of survival, the doctor had to know the truth, no matter how painful. Taking a deep breath, Roman looked out the window at the storm ravaged garden below, and started to speak in a dispassionate voice.

“As you already know, I’m a cop. I was also an ISA agent. Ten years ago I was kidnapped by an international crime lord out for revenge named Stefano DiMera. My family believed I’d been killed and my body washed out to sea. At around the same time, DiMera also kidnapped a private detective from Switzerland named John Stevens. Somehow DiMera erased Stevens’ memories and replaced them with mine. About eighteen months after I was presumed dead, DiMera arranged for Stevens to end up in my home town of Salem, after first altering his face with plastic surgery and erasing his memory again. Since he didn’t know who he was, Stevens adopted the name ‘John Black,’ and through a very elaborate plan, DiMera convinced my family and friends that the amnesiac John Black was actually Roman Brady. And when John finally got his memory back, he believed he was Roman Brady too, because he was remembering my life, not his own.

“John lived with my wife, Marlena, as her husband for over a year, but then DiMera became suspicious she would discover he was an impostor and had her kidnapped as well. Again, just like he did with me, he arranged for everyone to believe she was dead. John actually witnessed the plane she was on crash into the ocean. After that, John went back to Salem and spent the next five years raising Marlena’s and my children.

“In July of 1991, DiMera’s plan for revenge on me and my family came to a head. Marlena was allowed to ‘escape’ and made her way back to Salem, where she found her ‘husband’ about to marry another woman. In the course of trying to discover what had happened to her, John and Marlena then stumbled across me on the island prison where DiMera was holding me. Needless to say, it was a mess. Marlena didn’t know which of us was her husband, I thought John was an assassin sent by DiMera to kill my family, and John believed he was the real Roman Brady. It finally took DNA testing to convince my family I was who I said I was, but John didn’t believe it until we finally confronted DiMera and he gleefully admitted everything he’d done.

“John and Bo and I had a shootout with DiMera and his henchmen and we thought DiMera was killed, so we went back to Salem and tried to get on with our lives. John went to live with his pregnant fiancee, Isabella, and started searching for his real identity, while Marlena and I tried to get reacquainted with our children and get our marriage and our family back on track. After several months, John finally discovered who he really was and married Isabella, but except for a few bits and pieces his memory of his previous life was gone. Marlena’s a psychiatrist and tried to help him with therapy and hypnosis, but his memory never came back."

Pausing for breath, and to steel himself to tell the next painful chapter of the story, Roman looked around to find Dr. Harris staring at him in fascinated horror. “My God,” the doctor said in astonishment. “You’ll have to forgive me, but this is a little difficult to believe.”

“I know,” Roman sighed. “Sometimes I don’t believe it myself. But it's true: I lived it. Unfortunately, it doesn’t get any better. After John finally learned his identity and he and Isabella were married, we all thought the worst was over. But it wasn’t. Five months after the wedding, Isabella died of pancreatic cancer. John was devastated, and Marlena spent so much time trying to help him that it put a real strain on our marriage. John and Marlena got even closer after they were trapped together in a collapsed building, and they finally ended up having a brief affair. My daughter Sami found out about it, and when Marlena became pregnant and didn’t know who the father was, Sami was so terrified her family would fall apart that she altered the baby’s paternity test to make John and Marlena believe the baby was mine. And after the baby was born, Sami kidnapped her and tried to sell her to a black market baby ring.

“In the meantime, after the affair with Marlena, John got involved with a new social worker in town named Kristen Blake. He fell in love with her, then we discovered that she was Stefano DiMera’s adopted daughter, and that DiMera was still alive and back in Salem. Naturally DiMera didn’t want John and Kristen together, so he set out to destroy John’s credibility. The way he did it was to force John and Marlena to confess their affair, which he had learned about from reading Sami’s diary, and which also revealed that John was the baby’s father instead of me. After that, Marlena and I separated, Kristen married DiMera’s son Tony, and DiMera staged another accident to make it look he'd been killed.

“John kept insisting DiMera was alive and wanted me to help find him, but I was so angry at he and Marlena over the affair that I wouldn’t do it. Then about ten weeks ago, DiMera lured John and Marlena into coming to New Orleans to look for him, while convincing me and everyone else they'd gone away together on a romantic vacation. And that brings us to today: I found John near death at Maison Blanche, and Stefano DiMera has disappeared again, taking Marlena with him.”

Roman looked at Dr. Harris and tried to keep his voice level. “I don’t want John to die, doctor. I was angry at him, but God knows I never wanted anything like this to happen. Can you save him?”

“We’ll try our best,” Harris said quietly. “What you’ve told me helps a lot. I know it couldn’t have been easy to talk about, but it really does help. Over the phone, you also mentioned something about some letters John wrote. I’d like to read those, if it’s all right with you, and also show them to our head of Psychiatric Services. We need to know as much as we can about John’s mental state prior to his collapse.”

“Of course.” Roman reached into his jacket and pulled out the blood-stained pieces of paper. The doctor accepted them, saying, “I’ll have them copied and returned to you immediately. You and your brother can wait here, or in my office down the hall while we run the tests. It may take several hours, so the nurse can direct you to the cafeteria if you want something to eat. I’ll have you paged if there’s any news.”

“Thank you, doctor.” Dr. Harris nodded, then strode quickly down the hall. Roman watched him for a few moments, then started down the hall in the opposite direction, to where Bo was speaking urgently on the phone.

Bo saw him coming, and as he neared, held up his hand to acknowledge his presence. Roman heard him say, “The flight should take about two hours, but how will you get from the airport to the hospital? It may be several days before the roads are passable.” He paused to listen, nodding his head several times. “Okay. That sounds good. That should put you here sometime around two-thirty or three o’clock. I don’t know how long these tests will take, but I should think we’d know something by then.” There was another pause. “All right, we’ll see you this afternoon then. I’ll call your cell phone if there’s any change in John’s condition before you get here. Goodbye,Victor.”

Bo hung up the phone and spoke to Roman. “Victor does have John’s power of attorney. He’s going to fax Dr. Harris a copy of John’s medical records and his authorization to begin treatment. He and Kate are flying down on the Titan jet, then using one of Titan’s local helicopters to get here to the hospital. He said they’ll bring Mom and Pop, too, if they want to come. Do you want me to call Mom and Pop, or do you want to do it?”

“I’ll do it,” Roman sighed. “They need to hear it from me.”

Bo nodded and handed him the phone. Roman dialed quickly and got a response almost immediately.

“Hello.” It was a young woman’s voice. Sami.

“Hi, Peanut. It’s Dad. Is Pop there?”

“He’s down in the pub. I’ll get him. Shawn-D,” she called in the distance, “will you get Grandpa? Dad’s on the phone.” Her voice returned to a normal level. “He’ll be here in a minute, Daddy. Did you catch your bad guy?” she asked lightly.

“Not yet, honey,” he replied gruffly.

“What’s wrong, Daddy?” He heard the instant concern in her voice. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” he lied, unable to bring himself to tell her about her mother. “It’s just that something unexpected happened that Pop needs to know about.”

“Okay,” she said with a touch of bewilderment. “Here he is.”

“Roman. What’s going on down there?” Shawn’s Irish brogue was thick with worry. “Are you all right? Something bad’s happened. I can feel it.”

He’s been having that feeling for weeks, Roman thought bleakly, and he was so right. Why didn’t I listen to him? Things might have been so different.

“I’m fine, Pop,” he answered, “and so is Bo. But you’re right: something bad has happened. Something terrible. Stefano’s alive. He was holding John and Marlena prisoner.”

“Dear God,” Shawn groaned. “What happened? How are they?”

“Marlena’s missing.” Roman tried to keep his voice steady. “Stefano got away and took her with him. Nobody knows where they are.”

There was a long silence as Shawn absorbed the news. “I’m sorry, son,” he finally said quietly. “What about John?”

“It’s bad,” Roman said grimly. “It’s really bad. We found him last night, chained in a basement. Stefano drugged and tortured him for ten weeks, then left him to starve to death.”

“Noo...” Shawn moaned. “Oh, please, no...”

“He’s still alive,” Roman said hurriedly, “but it doesn’t look good. He’s in the hospital now, and the doctors are doing what they can, but they don’t know if he’ll make it. Victor and Kate are flying down on the Titan jet. They’ll take you and Ma with them, if you want to come.”

“Of course we’ll come.” Shawn’s voice, though quavering with shock and grief, made it sound like doing anything else was unthinkable. “What about Belle and Brady? Should we bring them? Would it help him to see them?”

“You’d better leave them in Salem, Pop. Ask if Alice or Maggie will look after them. John’s unconscious,” he explained. “He wouldn’t even know they were here. Besides, it would be too traumatic for Brady to see him the way he looks now. And if John dies,” Roman continued painfully, “I know he’d want Brady’s last memory of his daddy to be a happy one.”

“You’re right,” Shawn said quietly. “I’d better go now, son. We have a lot to do. We’ll see you soon, and we’ll be praying. Bye.”

“Bye, Pop.”

Roman replaced the receiver and turned to Bo. “They’re coming. I just hope John hangs on long enough for them to get here.”

“So do I, bro. So do I.”

Shawn hung up the phone and sank into a chair at the kitchen table, bowing his head over his shaking hands. Stefano DiMera. Would that monster never leave his family alone? Now he had Marlena again...and John, his darlin’ Johnny, was dying. No! he admonished himself, Stop it! You can’t think like that. He’s going to live. And you have to be there for him. He reached for the phone again and dialed a number he knew by heart and wished he could forget.

“Kiriakis residence.” It was the butler, Henderson.

“This is Shawn Brady. Let me talk to Victor.”

“Oh, Mr. Brady. He’s expecting your call. Just a moment. I’ll transfer you to his cell phone.”

There was series of clicks, then the voice of the man he despised but would always be connected to. “Kiriakis.”

“It’s Shawn. I just talked to Roman. When are you leaving?”

“It’ll take about an hour to get the plane ready. I’m on my way to the hospital to get John’s medical records. I can pick up you and Caroline on the way back.”

“I have to arrange for someone to take care of the children before we leave. Roman suggested Alice or Maggie Horton, but they both have the flu. I’m not sure who else I can try on such short notice.”

There was a pause, then Victor said, rather tentatively Shawn thought, “I know you won’t like this, Shawn, but the children could stay at my place. The staff adore John and Brady and little Belle. I know they’d be glad to help out by taking care of the children.”

Shawn only had to think for a moment. Time was of the essence, and enmity could be put aside for the sake of a loved one. And much as he hated to admit it, there had been an almost miraculous change in Victor over the last two years. “All right,” he said gratefully. That sounds like a good solution. I’ll get them ready.”

“I’ll have Henderson and Nydia come over to pick them up. Nydia has taken care of both Belle and Brady before when John brought them over. They won’t be scared with her.”

“We’ll be ready. And Victor...”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. For offering to take us.”

“John needs you,” Victor said shortly. “He needs all of us.”

“I know.” With those words, Shawn acknowledged his understanding of the meaning behind Victor’s. From now, until this crisis was over, there would be a ceasefire in their decades long undeclared war. And maybe, just maybe, sometime in the future, that ceasefire could become permanent. “We’ll see you shortly, Victor. Goodbye.”

“Shawn?” As he hung up the phone, he was pulled around by Caroline’s voice from the doorway. “Sami said Roman was on the phone. Why were you talking to Victor? What’s going on?”

“Caroline. I--”

“Grandpa,” Sami interrupted from the hall behind her grandmother, “what was Daddy calling about? He sounded kind of funny.”

I don’t want to tell them like this, Shawn thought in despair, but they have to know. “Roman was calling about John and Marlena,” he sighed. “He--”

“He saw John and Mom!?” Sami burst out. Then she started ranting. “I hope he told them to stay away and never come back! We don’t need them!” she snarled. “They could be dead for all I care! I wouldn’t miss them a bit!”

“Sami!” Caroline cried. “Don’t talk like that.”

“It’s all right, Caroline,” Shawn said quietly, but inside he was just as appalled as she was. Sami’s hatred of John and Marlena was over the edge now, bordering on the irrational. Maybe a shock would bring her back to her senses. “Sami,” he asked, “have you ever heard the old saying ‘be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it?’”

She stared at him wide-eyed. “What...what do you mean, Grandpa?” she stuttered.

“I mean that John is dying,” he told her bluntly, while Caroline gasped in terror. “Stefano DiMera tricked John and Marlena into going to New Orleans. He drugged and tortured John for the last ten weeks, then left him to die while he disappeared with your mother.”

Sami turned green with shock. “Stefano has Mom again?” she whimpered, her anger replaced by fear.

“Yes. No one knows where they are. And John’s in the hospital, in critical condition. The doctors don’t think he’ll make it.” He turned to the trembling Caroline. “Victor and Kate are leaving for New Orleans in an hour on the Titan jet. They asked us to go with them. I said yes. Shawn-D and Belle and Brady will stay at Victor’s while we’re gone. Henderson will be over shortly to pick them up.”

Caroline pulled herself together, nodding. “I’ll get them ready.”

“Why do they have to go anywhere?” Sami interjected. “Jaime and I can take care of them. I want to help.”

Shawn looked at her askance. “You know why, Sami. We don’t dare leave you alone with John’s children.”

She had the grace to blush with shame. “I know what I did was wrong, Grandpa. I’d never do anything like that again. I promise.”

“No. I’m sorry, Sami, but after the way you were talking just a few minutes ago, we just can’t take the chance. Now, you’ll have to excuse us. We have packing to do.”

After her grandparents left the room, Sami walked across to the fireplace and lifted a picture from the mantle. Tears dimming her eyes, she brushed her fingertips over John’s face, glowing with happiness as he stood beside Isabella in her wedding dress. “Please don’t die, Daddy,” she whispered. “I love you.”

to be continued...

© 1998 by Ruth Stout - All Rights Reserved

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