Collins.
Collins broke into a smile and extended his hand. "Congratulations, counselor."
"Thank you," Bryan replied, grasping Collins's hand.
"Merry Christmas, Mr. Kringle," Collins said. "My children wanted me to remind you not to forget to stop by our house tonight."
"I will not forget," Kringle assured him.
"We're in Stamford. Thirty-one thirty-three Brompton Road. Big white house."
With a nod, he took off.
"Well, Kriss, you're free," Bryan said. "I don't know how much help I was, but that's not important."
"You came to my defense," Kringle replied. "Without you, I'd have been put away without a peep.
"The truth is, Kriss, it was Dorey's idea. She called and asked me to help you."
" Dorey did?"
Bryan nodded. "You made a believer out of her."
Kringle's eyes welled up. "That's such good news!"
"You made a believer out of everybody," Bryan continued.
"Not everybody," Kringle said. "There are still a few who don't believe. One in particular."
"Kriss!"
At the sound of Dorey's voice, Bryan began collecting his papers on the defense table.
Dorey and Susan Walker plunged through the crowd. Dorey threw her arms around Kringle. "I'm so happy for you, Kriss!" she cried.
Susan turned toward Bryan. "Way to go, Bryan."
"Thank you, Susan," Bryan replied.
Dorey pulled away from Kringle and smiled at Bryan. "Congratulations," she said.
"Thank you, Dorey." Bryan offered his hand, and Dorey shook it.
Susan and Kriss Kringle exchanged a hopeful look.
"Well," Bryan said, "have a merry Christmas."
"You, too," Dorey answered
For a moment, no one said a word. Then Dorey took Susan's hand. "We'll let you go," she said to Kringle. "Merry Christmas and good luck."
With an exchange of Merry Christmases all around, Dorey and Susan headed for the door.
Susan's eyes were full of disappointment. As she glanced at Kriss Kringle one last time, he gave her a confident wink.
Bryan shut his briefcase. "You want to share a cab home, Kriss?"
"Home? Oh, no, not tonight. I'm going to be very busy."
Bryan laughed. "Christmas Eve. That's right."
"My deepest thanks, Bryan. I shall never forget you. In all my travels past and future, I won't find as good a friend as you. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas."
Kriss Kringle turned away. With a bounce in his step, he went out the door.
The crowd had emptied. Bryan stood alone in the courtroom.
He picked up his briefcase and left.
His footsteps echoed hollowly on the tiled floor.
DECEMBER 24, 3:01 P.M.
Victor Lamberg threw the afternoon newspaper onto his desk. He turned it so the headline faced Jack Duff and Alberta Leonard:
SANTA LIVES!
"This is going to blow up in my face, isn't it?" Lamberg asked.
Neither Duff nor Alberta had an answer for him.
"I lost bigger than I ever thought I'd win," Lamberg mumbled.
"There was a lot of pressure," Duff said. "Who knew what the judge would do when he was faced with having to put Santa Claus in the nuthouse?"
" He isn't Santa Claus! " Lamberg thundered. "What's the matter with everybody? There is no Santa Claus!"
He stalked to the window and stared out.
Alberta looked at Duff. She pulled a button out of her pocket and showed it to Duff.
He squinted and read the words on the button: I Believe In Santa Claus . Right under the Cole's logo.
Duff stifled a laugh. He looked at Lamberg's back, then quickly opened his suit jacket.
The same button was pinned to his own vest.
A light on Lamberg's phone began to flash. His secretary leaned into the office and said, "Mr. Lamberg? Your granddaughter's calling."
Lamberg turned from the window. His face was creased with worry. He looked suddenly broken, old, and frail.
"Is she angry?" he asked.
When she arrived home from work, Dorey noticed a small blue envelope in the mail. On it, the words To DOrey—Urgent were written in an unfamiliar handwriting.
She ripped open the envelope and read the message inside:
Meet Me At St. Patrick's
After Midnight Mass.
Bryan
After wandering around the
Collins broke into a smile and extended his hand. "Congratulations, counselor."
"Thank you," Bryan replied, grasping Collins's hand.
"Merry Christmas, Mr. Kringle," Collins said. "My children wanted me to remind you not to forget to stop by our house tonight."
"I will not forget," Kringle assured him.
"We're in Stamford. Thirty-one thirty-three Brompton Road. Big white house."
With a nod, he took off.
"Well, Kriss, you're free," Bryan said. "I don't know how much help I was, but that's not important."
"You came to my defense," Kringle replied. "Without you, I'd have been put away without a peep.
"The truth is, Kriss, it was Dorey's idea. She called and asked me to help you."
" Dorey did?"
Bryan nodded. "You made a believer out of her."
Kringle's eyes welled up. "That's such good news!"
"You made a believer out of everybody," Bryan continued.
"Not everybody," Kringle said. "There are still a few who don't believe. One in particular."
"Kriss!"
At the sound of Dorey's voice, Bryan began collecting his papers on the defense table.
Dorey and Susan Walker plunged through the crowd. Dorey threw her arms around Kringle. "I'm so happy for you, Kriss!" she cried.
Susan turned toward Bryan. "Way to go, Bryan."
"Thank you, Susan," Bryan replied.
Dorey pulled away from Kringle and smiled at Bryan. "Congratulations," she said.
"Thank you, Dorey." Bryan offered his hand, and Dorey shook it.
Susan and Kriss Kringle exchanged a hopeful look.
"Well," Bryan said, "have a merry Christmas."
"You, too," Dorey answered
For a moment, no one said a word. Then Dorey took Susan's hand. "We'll let you go," she said to Kringle. "Merry Christmas and good luck."
With an exchange of Merry Christmases all around, Dorey and Susan headed for the door.
Susan's eyes were full of disappointment. As she glanced at Kriss Kringle one last time, he gave her a confident wink.
Bryan shut his briefcase. "You want to share a cab home, Kriss?"
"Home? Oh, no, not tonight. I'm going to be very busy."
Bryan laughed. "Christmas Eve. That's right."
"My deepest thanks, Bryan. I shall never forget you. In all my travels past and future, I won't find as good a friend as you. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas."
Kriss Kringle turned away. With a bounce in his step, he went out the door.
The crowd had emptied. Bryan stood alone in the courtroom.
He picked up his briefcase and left.
His footsteps echoed hollowly on the tiled floor.
DECEMBER 24, 3:01 P.M.
Victor Lamberg threw the afternoon newspaper onto his desk. He turned it so the headline faced Jack Duff and Alberta Leonard:
SANTA LIVES!
"This is going to blow up in my face, isn't it?" Lamberg asked.
Neither Duff nor Alberta had an answer for him.
"I lost bigger than I ever thought I'd win," Lamberg mumbled.
"There was a lot of pressure," Duff said. "Who knew what the judge would do when he was faced with having to put Santa Claus in the nuthouse?"
" He isn't Santa Claus! " Lamberg thundered. "What's the matter with everybody? There is no Santa Claus!"
He stalked to the window and stared out.
Alberta looked at Duff. She pulled a button out of her pocket and showed it to Duff.
He squinted and read the words on the button: I Believe In Santa Claus . Right under the Cole's logo.
Duff stifled a laugh. He looked at Lamberg's back, then quickly opened his suit jacket.
The same button was pinned to his own vest.
A light on Lamberg's phone began to flash. His secretary leaned into the office and said, "Mr. Lamberg? Your granddaughter's calling."
Lamberg turned from the window. His face was creased with worry. He looked suddenly broken, old, and frail.
"Is she angry?" he asked.
When she arrived home from work, Dorey noticed a small blue envelope in the mail. On it, the words To DOrey—Urgent were written in an unfamiliar handwriting.
She ripped open the envelope and read the message inside:
Meet Me At St. Patrick's
After Midnight Mass.
Bryan
After wandering around the
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