The Golden Couple
Natalie Kern looked down at the tiny infant sleeping peacefully in her arms, and her heart filled with maternal love and joy. After four heartbreaking miscarriages, she had finally been blessed with a child. Blake, her husband, sat in awe of the beauty of the scene, likening it to a renaissance Raphael Madonna and child.
"Your face is unquestionably one of the most famous in the world," he said, "but only I am lucky enough to see its radiance at moments like this."
Natalie gazed lovingly at her spouse.
"The rest of the world sees only what the director wants them to see. You see the real me—here with you and Teddy."
"If ever two people were blessed, it's you and I. We have it all: fame, fortune ...."
"And our son, the greatest blessing of all."
"And we have each other. You mustn't forget that."
"How could I?" she asked with a beatific smile as she reached her hand out to grasp her husband's. "You and Teddy are my world. Everything else is window dressing."
Blake Whitten knew he would have to report for work soon, that he was due on the set in less than an hour. Still, he hated to leave his family. He never tired of watching his wife with their son. Like so many millions of moviegoers around the world, he was mesmerized by her face.
Of all the glamorous movie stars in Hollywood, not one of them could hold a candle to Natalie Kern when it came to beauty. While many women were attempting to copy Jean Harlow's platinum tresses, Natalie's auburn hair set her apart from the would-be blond bombshells.
As a young, vivacious teenager, the girl from West Paterson, New Jersey, had gotten her first role in a Charlie Chaplin comedy. In just a few years, she moved from silent films to talkies, competing with luminaries such as Greta Garbo, Carole Lombard, Bette Davis, Claudette Colbert and Joan Crawford. Had she relied on her looks alone, Natalie might never have become a Hollywood icon. Thankfully, she was a talented actress and hard worker as well, earning the praise of movie critics and the adoration of millions of fans. By her mid-twenties, she became one of Tinseltown's highest box office draws.
Given Natalie's beauty and popularity, it was no wonder that she counted among her suitors many of Hollywood's handsomest leading men. Then, just weeks after her twenty-sixth birthday, she married Blake Whitten, MGM's most beloved actor. The newlywed couple instantly became Hollywood royalty. They were to the 1930s what Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton were to the '60s and Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie are to our generation.
Their marriage was successful, although Natalie battled with bouts of depression at her inability to carry a child to term. Finally, with the birth of Teddy, the golden couple believed their troubles were behind them and looked forward to a full and happy family life.
Unfortunately, all too often life gives us what we want most only to take it away and leave unbearable sorrow behind.
* * *
Teddy Whitten's first birthday was as great a spectacle as anything Hollywood produced for the silver screen. For the children's amusement, there were circus clowns, a carousel, a calliope, pony rides and a magician. For the adults, the proud parents hired the Tommy Dorsey band to play and provided a wide range of fine foods and drinks. No expense was spared to celebrate the Little Prince's birthday.
"He's getting so big!" Natalie exclaimed as she watched her son toddling across the lawn.
"He can't remain a baby all his life," her husband replied.
"Nonsense! No matter how old Teddy is, he'll always be my baby."
Blake was concerned that his wife was a little too protective and hoped the boy would not grow up any the worse for it. Yet even an overprotective mother could not safeguard a child against all injuries. During the birthday party, little Teddy fell off the pony he was riding and was struck in the head by the animal's hoof. The mother saw her precious child lying on the ground with a large bleeding gash on his head and shrieked. An ambulance arrived minutes later, and Natalie and Blake accompanied their son to the hospital.
"Oh, my poor, poor little angel," Natalie sobbed as she clutched the tiny hand in her own and covered it with kisses.
Blake laid a supportive arm on his wife's shoulder. He hated to see her so distraught.
"He'll be fine," he whispered soothingly. "A few stitches and he'll be as good as new."
"You don't know that. He could have a concussion or brain damage. Oh, my baby! Please, God, let him be all right!"
After what seemed an eternity, but what was probably only fifteen minutes, the ambulance arrived at the hospital, and the child was taken to the emergency room. As Blake had predicted, the wound was not serious.
"There's no sign of concussion," the doctor announced after his examination. "But there's been a lot of bleeding. I'd like to give him a transfusion, just to be on the safe side."
Teddy screamed in pain and cried for his mother when the nurse tried to put a needle into his vein.
"Miss Kern, would you mind going outside to the waiting room?" the doctor suggested. "We'll be able to get the transfusion done a lot quicker if we can get the boy to calm down."
Reluctantly, the mother left the room. Her tears returned when she heard the door close behind her.
The doctor turned toward Blake and asked, "Would you be willing to donate a pint of blood, Mr. Whitten?"
"I hate to sound melodramatic, but I'd give my life for my boy. What's a pint of blood?"
* * *
Out in the waiting room, Natalie nervously paced the floor, waiting for word of her son. As she walked she prayed, even though she had never been a religious person. Eventually, the door opened and her husband came out of the room.
"Is he all right?" she asked anxiously.
"Yes. He's fine. They're giving him the blood transfusion now."
Ten minutes later the doctor confirmed her husband's statement.
"Can we take him home?" Natalie asked.
"Certainly. The nurse will provide you with follow-up instructions, and you can phone my office in a few days and set up an appointment to have the stitches removed."
"Thank you for everything, Doctor!" the grateful mother exclaimed as though the physician had performed life-saving surgery rather than give her son a few stitches.
Natalie was so concerned with her child's well-being that she did not comment on her husband's sudden change in behavior. For the remainder of the day, Blake was silent and withdrawn, apparently preoccupied with far more important matters than birthday parties.
Perhaps all the excitement coupled with donating blood had left him feeling ill, she reasoned.
"It's been one hell of a day," the actress declared once the baby was asleep in his crib. "What we both need is a good night's rest."
Although Blake agreed with his wife, he did not follow her to bed. Instead, he took refuge in his den and in a bottle of gin his bootlegger had smuggled in from Canada while Prohibition was still in force.
* * *
The day after Teddy Whitten's ill-fated birthday party, Natalie began rehearsals for a romantic comedy costarring Cary Grant. Meanwhile, Blake was still filming a detective story for Universal Studios. With their busy work schedules, they only saw each other sporadically. This was by no means a new situation. Their marriage had gone through many such periods, and it withstood them all.
After weeks of rehearsals, the romantic comedy began shooting, and Natalie worked from sunup to sundown, often coming home past nine, exhausted, wanting only to shower and sleep. But even on her most fatiguing days she always went to her son's room and read to him before he went to sleep.
One Friday night, halfway into the filming schedule, Natalie returned home well after ten. The nanny informed her that the boy had already fallen asleep.
"I'll just tiptoe in and kiss him goodnight without waking him," the mother said. "Oh, Nanette, you can have the day off tomorrow. I don't have to work, and I intend to spend the whole day with Teddy. I'm going to take him to the beach, and we'll have hot dogs and ice cream, and we'll ride the carousel!"
"That sounds like fun, Ma'am," Nanette said.
"Doesn't it? Too bad my husband can't join us, but once his picture is over, we want to take a nice, long family vacation."
"You could certainly use it—the both of you!"
Natalie went to her dressing room, where she exchanged her Chanel suit for a bathrobe and her high-heeled pumps for a pair of slippers. Dressed in more comfortable attire, she opened the door to her son's room. When she saw the empty crib, she naturally assumed he had awakened and was with the nanny.
"Nanette," she called.
"Yes, Ma'am?"
Natalie's heart began to race when she saw the nanny was empty-handed.
"Where's Teddy? He's not in his crib."
The two women exchanged a look of panic. Since the Lindberg kidnapping, many wealthy people feared for their children's safety.
"I put him in it—sound asleep—around nine o'clock," Nanette insisted.
They entered the nursery, and indeed the crib was empty. Natalie's eyes went to the open window, and her heart nearly burst with fear.
"Call the police!" she cried as she began searching the room. "And then call the studio and have them get my husband."
* * *
Both the state police and the FBI were confounded by the case since there was no demand for ransom.
"We're questioning known criminals within a fifty-mile radius," Special Agent Milo Parmenter informed the grief-stricken parents. "We're also contacting orphanages, hospitals and shelters to see if your son turned up."
"What about the kidnapper?" Blake demanded to know. "Have you any idea who he is?"
Parmenter shook his head and replied, "Frankly, no. He left no fingerprints, no evidence of any kind behind. If there were a ransom demand, we'd be able to use any number of methods to trip him up. But there's been no note, no phone call, no message in the personal section of the newspaper. I'm afraid that unless he tries to contact us, we might not be able to apprehend him."
"I don't care if you catch him or not," Natalie sobbed. "Just as long as I get my son back."
"Yes," Blake agreed, giving what comfort he could to his despairing wife, "please make finding the boy your main priority."
"It is," the FBI agent assured him.
Weeks went by, however, and there was no break in the case. Those weeks turned to months, and still, Teddy had not been found. The loss of her son took a heavy toll on Natalie Kern.
"I had lunch with Selznick today," Blake informed his wife when he came home from the studio one night. "He wants to know why you're the only actress in Hollywood who hasn't tried out for the role of Scarlett."
"I'm not the Southern belle type," Natalie mumbled.
"Chaplin wants Paulette Goddard to get the role."
Natalie, who had no interest in studio gossip, didn't care who was chosen to star in Gone With the Wind, or any other movie for that matter.
"Have you read that script Hitchcock sent you?" her husband asked.
"No."
"Why not?"
"I can't work now, not until ...."
Blake shook his head in frustration.
"You have to face facts, darling. You might not get Teddy back."
"I'll never give up hope!" she cried.
"I'm not suggesting you stop hoping. I only think it's time you start living your life again. Your acting in a movie won't prevent the authorities from locating the boy."
"You don't understand. When Teddy went missing something inside me died. I can no longer put on a costume, make-up and a wig and pretend I'm someone I'm not."
When Natalie collapsed on the sofa in tears, Blake decided not to push the matter. After all, time heals all wounds, even the loss of a child.
Natalie's wound, however, was deeper than most. Years passed, and still, she lived in limbo. She hadn't made a movie since her son's kidnapping. Even the romantic comedy she was filming with Cary Grant had been shelved.
Although Natalie was little more than a shadow of her previous self, her marriage endured. Her husband was a rock to lean on, a seemingly never-ending source of strength and love.
* * *
Blake was overjoyed as he read the reviews of his latest film.
"Listen to this," he called to Natalie, "Blake Whitten has delivered the performance of his career and is sure to be nominated for the Best Actor Oscar."
"That's nice, darling," his wife replied unenthusiastically.
Natalie's lack of emotion didn't upset Blake. He had long grown used to it. Although she never appeared happy anymore, at least she was no longer crying herself to sleep at night.
"Of course, I've got a lot of competition," the actor added. "Ben-Hur was such a blockbuster that Heston's sure to be nominated."
"Would you like a glass of lemonade?" Natalie asked, heading toward the kitchen.
"No, but I'll take a bottle of Coca-Cola if there's any in the refrigerator."
A few minutes later she was walking back to the living room when the front doorbell rang.
"I'll go see who it is," Blake offered.
He opened the door and saw a young man standing on the stoop.
"Can I help you?" the actor asked.
"Dad? It's me, Teddy."
From the hall behind him, Blake heard the sound of breaking glass as Natalie dropped the tray of beverages she had been carrying.
The young man craned his neck to look over Blake's shoulder.
"Mom!"
Unmindful of the broken glass, Natalie raced across the foyer and into the young man's arms.
"Oh, Teddy," she cried, "I always knew you'd come home to me."
As the ecstatic woman covered the young man's face with kisses, her husband stood silently nearby, clutching the doorknob in shock.
"What are we doing standing here on the doorstep?" Natalie laughed and took her son's arm. "Come inside."
"Watch out, Mom. There's broken glass on the floor. You don't want to cut your feet."
"I'll clean it up," Blake volunteered.
It was as though Natalie had forgotten her husband was there.
"Oh, darling," she said. "Isn't it a miracle? We have our baby back home!"
"Yes, it is," he agreed and hurried to the kitchen for a mop and trash bag.
"You know," Natalie said as she led her son into the living room, "your room is still the same as it was the night you were taken, although I don't imagine you'll need a nursery anymore."
"I don't think so," the young man laughed.
"For years your father has been suggesting he and I move to one of those big mansions in Beverly Hills. Naturally, I wouldn't hear of it! After all, this was your home, and I was certain you'd come back to it."
Having cleaned up the mess in the foyer, Blake joined his wife in the living room.
"I'm interested in knowing where you've been the past twenty-five years," the actor said, showing no sign of welcome to the man who claimed to be his son.
"I'm sure you've got a lot of questions," Teddy said, "and I'll answer as many as I can, but frankly I'm overwhelmed at the moment."
"Surely telling us where you've been living won't be too taxing," Blake persisted.
"Can't you see our son is tired?" Natalie asked, immediately siding with the young man.
"If, in fact, he is our son."
Natalie was bewildered by her husband's doubt.
"Just look at his face! He looks like you did when you were his age. He's grown up to be exactly as I always imagined him."
The actor's features hardened, and he declared through clenched jaws, "Looks can be deceiving."
"Don't be ridiculous! Of course, he's our son!"
"Then let him tell me what became of him twenty-five years ago."
"You're making this sound like an interrogation," Natalie cried. "This is our son's homecoming, a joyful occasion we ought to celebrate. Why don't we all go out to dinner?"
"I'm sorry, but I'm not about to believe such an incredible story on this man's word alone. I want some proof that he's Teddy."
"I have an old scar on my head," the young man said. "Apparently I was injured when I was a baby."
"That's right!" Natalie exclaimed. "You fell off a pony at your first birthday party."
"No wonder I never liked horses," Teddy laughed.
"Let me have a look at that scar," Blake said, still demanding proof of the stranger's identity.
Teddy leaned forward and pointed to the area three inches above his right ear.
"I can't see much under your hair."
"Stop being such a Doubting Thomas," his wife teased. "What do you expect the boy to do, shave his head?"
"I just want ...."
"Enough!" Natalie shouted. "We're going out to celebrate, and I don't want to hear another word about Teddy not being who he claims to be."
Seeing his wife's radiant face, Blake didn't have the heart to press the issue. Let her enjoy the moment. He would soon enough get to the bottom of the young man's scam.
* * *
A month later Blake met with Asa Tolbert, a private detective he had hired to investigate the man who had shown up on his doorstep, claiming to be his son.
"Well? What did you find out?" the actor asked, not wasting his time with small talk.
"Nothing that contradicts the story he told you and your wife. He was left on the doorstep of a church a few weeks after your son disappeared. When the police failed to turn up the boy's mother, he was placed in an orphanage. He was adopted when he was three and given the name Clifford Halley."
"But you haven't been able to find out who his real parents are?"
"There is a very strong possibility he is your son."
"I don't buy it. Why would the kidnapper wait twenty-five years to tell him who he really is? And sending an anonymous letter to reveal the truth? It seems too much like a plot of a bad movie to me."
"How do you explain the baby clothes Clifford claims were sent with the letter? Didn't your former nanny identify them as being identical to the ones Teddy was wearing the night he was kidnapped?"
"There was nothing special about them. They were just ordinary blue pajamas. I'll bet millions of little boys had the same outfit."
"Halley's story aside, you can't deny the obvious: the young man's the spitting image of you."
Blake's eyes narrowed in anger.
"He's not my son."
Tolbert shrugged his shoulders. He did not know why the actor was so adamant in his denial of Halley's story. From all accounts, his wife was the happiest she had been in years. If nothing else, Blake ought to be grateful for that. Still, it was none of Asa's business. He was paid to do a job, and he'd done it to the best of his ability.
* * *
Only a month ago, Blake thought as he headed home after his meeting with the private investigator, everything was going great. Then HE showed up!
Not all the actor's troubles were brought about by the appearance of Mr. Halley. After all, Clifford had not chosen the nominees for Best Actor and overlooked the greatest performance of Blake Whitten's career. His not being nominated crushed the aging actor because there were a limited number of parts for more mature performers, and he did not know if he would ever get another Oscar-worthy role.
"What the hell ...?" Blake exclaimed when he pulled into his driveway and saw a brand new Porsche Spyder parked in the garage.
Seeing the expensive sports car only worsened his already sour mood.
"Hello, darling," Natalie called happily from the living room when he entered the house.
Blake followed the sound of his wife's laughter and found her and Clifford—he refused to think of him as Teddy—sitting next to each other on the couch, watching an episode of Candid Camera.
"That's quite a car out in the garage," he remarked.
"Do you like it?" Natalie asked. "I bought it for Teddy as an early birthday present."
"And the clothes he's wearing?" Blake asked, noting the fine cut of the young man's pants and shirt. "Are they an early birthday present as well?"
"No. I just thought he needed something nice to wear."
"So you bought him clothes from an Italian designer? A bit expensive, don't you think?"
"Nothing's too good for our son."
"Look, Dad ...," Teddy began.
"Don't call me Dad!"
"Why not?" Natalie demanded to know. "Do you still have doubts about his identity, despite the proof he's shown you?"
"I don't call an unsigned letter, a pair of ordinary blue pajamas and a barely visible scar proof!"
"He's your son. Why won't you admit it?"
"I don't have a son!" Blake screamed, having reached the limit of his patience. "I never did."
"What are you talking about?" Natalie asked, her complexion turning paler than normal.
"I mean that Teddy wasn't my son."
"You're being ridiculous."
"Don't you remember the blood transfusion he needed when he got his head injury? Well, the doctor tested our blood, just to be on the safe side. And guess what? According to the results of those tests, there is no way I could be the father. Then I remembered that about a year before Teddy was born, you went through your vulnerable period."
The pain on Natalie's face was evident as she tried to fight back her tears.
"I was deeply depressed after suffering my fourth miscarriage. I desperately needed someone, and you were filming abroad."
"So it's my fault that you were unfaithful, is it?"
"No, but I confessed my indiscretion and begged your forgiveness, which you gave me. We had a rough spell, but then I gave birth to Teddy, and we were happier than ever."
"That was before I found out he wasn't mine."
"I swear I didn't know. I always believed you were the father."
"So you see why the uncanny resemblance this stranger has to me means nothing. He's not my son."
"Regardless of who his father is, Teddy is still my child."
"But this isn't Teddy; he's Clifford Halley."
"They're one and the same," Natalie stubbornly maintained.
"No, they're not! Teddy died twenty-five years ago."
"My son isn't dead," his wife cried, adamantly denying the claim.
The resentment Blake had kept bottled up for so long at last surfaced.
"He was killed when the damn-fool kidnapper crashed his car trying to get away from the scene of the crime. I know because I was the one who ordered the kidnapping!"
"You're lying!"
"I was sick and tired of you treating another man's child like he was the Prince of Wales or the second coming of Christ! I wanted him out of our lives, so I hired my former bootlegger's cousin to take him. I didn't know that bloody fool would get into a crash."
His wife put her head in her hands and wept.
"It's not possible," she sobbed hysterically.
"I can show you the newspaper article if you'd like. I've kept it all these years."
Natalie felt Teddy stir beside her. She opened her eyes, and the young man was gone.
"Where did he go?"
"He ... he just ... vanished," Blake replied in bewilderment. "He was sitting there one moment, and the next he was gone."
"He really was Teddy," Natalie said before sliding onto the floor and wailing inconsolably.
Blake made no attempt to comfort his wife since there was nothing he could say or do to ease her pain.
Eventually, Natalie regained enough composure to get up from the floor. Without a word to her husband or a look in his direction, she walked unsteadily across the floor and up the staircase. Her one thought was to put an end to her misery, but first, she wanted one last look at the carefully preserved nursery. She wanted once more to touch her son's belongings and see his photographs.
When she opened the door to the room, she smelled the faint scent of baby powder.
Oh, Teddy! she thought, longing to turn back time and recapture those blissful days.
A barely audible sound suddenly came from her right. Natalie turned her head and sensed rather than actually saw movement in the crib. She didn't need to see his face. She knew from the blond curls that it was Teddy.
"Hush, sweetheart," she said, when she heard his soft cries. "Mommy's here."
She picked up the child and hugged him to her breast.
"I'll never let you out of my sight again."
* * *
For the first time since Blake had arranged for Teddy's kidnapping, he experienced despair akin to that his wife must have felt when she learned her child was missing. His life as he had known it was over. He would no longer be half of Hollywood's golden couple. He lost the woman he loved—for despite the great pain she had once caused him, he still deeply loved Natalie. And there was the very real threat that she would go to the police and tell them about her husband's part in the kidnapping.
Only a month ago I was sure I'd win an Oscar, he thought. Now I'll be lucky if I don't wind up in jail.
Blake walked to the bar and poured himself a drink. He had the glass of scotch at his lips when he saw Natalie descend the stairs.
"Look, darling," she cried. "There's no need to worry. Teddy was safe in his crib!"
The sight of his wife holding the decaying corpse of a one-year-old boy in rotting blue pajamas horrified Blake, yet he could no longer deny the fact that the child had come back. Only now he was not the grown man his mother had frequently envisioned but the dead toddler Blake had frequently seen in his nightmares.
The actor's horror was compounded when the corpse turned to him, raised its nearly fleshless arms and cried, "Da Da."
"How cute!" Natalie exclaimed with delight. "He called you Daddy!"
Fighting off a wave of nausea, Blake Whitten swallowed his scotch and poured himself another. Like it or not, he had to accept that Teddy was back in their lives to stay.
Like Teddy Whitten, Salem has a scar under his hair. If you shave his head, you can clearly see "666"!
