Free Second Chance by Linda Kepner Page B

and strain of the trip to America that have caused his collapse. I had not expected to hear from him, but I was worried about his health. As you have guessed, this is not the first time he has fallen from nervous exhaustion.
    Also as you have guessed, yes, he is the notorious Louis Dessant. I think and hope most of that bad publicity has died down. What you said in your transmission makes me think, as well, that no one remembers it. That is a good thing and a great relief to me, for he is one of the best men I have ever known.
    As his own physician would attest, Louis pushes himself to exhaustion, and then has nerve-storms. Sometimes, as I suspect happened here, it is triggered off by some event — no doubt, as you said, seeing that damnable Paris Gazette article. In a perfect world, I wish I could say that a rest cure will rehabilitate him — but as you may also know, it was during his rest cure in Lyons that he discovered the location of the woman who betrayed him, and met her again!
    That was the beginning of the end for him, for she ensnared him once more and he murdered another man for her sake, sold his half of our business to me, lost the money, and went on the run with her. It ended badly, but how else could it have ended? Louis took his punishment like a man, and there were many besides myself who pushed for his release. The blame was solely Carola’s — I will never call her Mme. Dessant, although Louis does — and may her sins rest on her head for all eternity. She befouled a good man, in my opinion, although Louis does not see it that way at all. He loved her passionately.
    Louis is a fine man. Make no mistake in that. I am a coward by comparison. He is the brave entrepreneur, with new ideas, pushing to make the business work. I am the housewife who stays behind to mind the store. I am a family man, not a businessman. Buying him out, and running the entire business myself, was my idea of hell. I was very glad that the Sûreté recovered his sales money as evidence, and I was eventually able to reclaim it and press him to take back his half of our business. Such a relief for me!
    I hope that, out of sight of his friends and neighbors of the island, he can work his way through his troubles and come back to us. I was hoping he would come back refreshed, but perhaps that is too much to hope. Perhaps, as you suggested in your transmission, I did see symptoms of something and hoped that a change of venue would make a difference to him. I hadn’t expected this, I promise you.
    The physician says, a mild tranquilizer to help him sleep, or a simple headache pill, is all he should need. (Dr. Ferenc is also our family physician.) Louis doesn’t take many drugs, and not even more than a drink or two in the evenings. Cool compresses if he wants them, perhaps a neck massage if you have a masseur available, but it is not necessary. The best thing for him, Ferenc says, is to get him home and back into his old routine. But first we must get him here. There’s no other man I would be afraid of losing on two straight airplane trips, Washington to Paris and Paris to Saint-Denis, except him. I will not relax until I see him crossing the tarmac at Garros. Please do everything you can to make sure he is on that first leg of the flight, short of bolting him to the seat! I may come to Paris myself, to make sure he is on the second leg.
    I know I have asked you to keep this letter confidential, but please, tell him Dr. Ferenc’s instructions and tell him I will be looking for him at Orly.
    Thank you for your help in this matter.
    Sincerely, Etien Campard
    • • •
    The tobacco crowd, an enlarged group of North Carolinians and curious Texans, came to Bishou’s apartment that evening with pizza (or as they called it, pizza pie), chips, and “pop.” Louis had never had pizza before, so they had great fun with him. He was obviously getting his strength back, barely touching furniture in passing as he made his way to the bathroom