A/N: Since Fellowes seems content to have Bates hangout in jail mending flour sacks and playing contraband hide and seek for all of series 3, I took it upon myself to provide an exit strategy for this ridiculous plot line. Is this a likely scenario? No. Is it better than what Fellowes might come up with to free Bates? You never know. Does it free Bates? Yes!

Enjoy!

The Key

She looked old. That's all Anna could think when she caught sight of herself in Lady Mary's mirror. There were lines on her face that didn't used to be there. Her eyes had a tired set to them. No matter how hard she tried to get a good night's sleep, she was still tired. She was always tired. She had been tired since the morning John was dragged away from Downton.

Tired and old. She scooted closer to the mirror for further inspection. She was rather thin, thinner than she used to be. Her hair still shone gold tones, but she knew it was only a matter of time. Her hands were also thin, bordering on bony. In a year, she had aged a lifetime. If John was ever released, she worried he wouldn't recognize his wife.

She wouldn't say it to anyone, especially not John, but Anna was beginning to wonder if he ever would make it home to her. He had already been imprisoned for over a year. At first she counted his absence in days, then months, now years. She still maintained a brave face if asked about her husband, but fewer and fewer people inquired. He was becoming a memory to most; unknown to the new hires. Downton had all but forgotten him. If he was ever to be released, it was up to her and her alone.

But how? She had religiously spent each evening for the last few months writing letters to all of Vera's family, friends and acquaintances mentioned in her diary. Her hand hurt by the time she went to bed, but not as much as her heart. Every lead led to one dead end after another. She didn't want it to happen. She had valiantly fought against it. But deep down Anna knew she was losing hope.

She looked in the mirror again. Her shoulders slumped. Not only was she tired and old, she was also a failure. She hadn't been able to bring him home. The bald truth was he wasn't likely to ever come home. Before she could will them away, she felt the familiar sting of tears.

"Anna," Mrs. Hughes appeared in the doorway interrupting her bleak thoughts. "There's a . . . Are you all right, my dear?"

Forcing a bright smile, "Of course I am," she replied wiping away any tears with a single swipe hopefully avoiding any further scrutiny by the housekeeper.

Mrs. Hughes's skeptical look told her the older woman wasn't daft. She knew something was bothering her, but thankfully let it go. Anna was very appreciative of Mrs. Hughes's support and willingness to lend an ear, but sometimes, most times, she just wished to be left alone.

"There's a visitor downstairs that I think you better speak with," Mrs. Hughes continued. Anna's heart raced; maybe it was someone she had written to. "The young lady asked to see Mr. Bates. She doesn't seem to know of his current predicament."

That's odd. Everyone she had contacted was made aware of the situation. Her spirits buckled. This visitor had nothing to do with the case. But who would come looking for John? And a young woman at that? He wasn't in contact with any family that she knew of. Maybe a daughter of an old friend or someone he served with in Africa? But that didn't seem likely. John Bates was very much a man alone in the world when he came to Downton.

"We'll we best get downstairs and not leave her waiting."

Whoever she was, she had Anna's curiosity teeming.

"Hello miss," Anna spoke from the doorway of the presently empty servants' hall.

The girl jumped a bit, startled by her voice. She quickly recovered and stood. She was quite tall, towering over Anna by a good six inches. Her hair was jet black. A long braid snaked down her back to give her a rather child-like appearance. But she clearly wasn't a child. Her body was filled out in all the appropriate places. Her build was sturdy though not overweight in the slightest. And then there were her eyes. Despite her nervous demeanor, warmth seeped out from rich, green eyes.

She wore a conservative, navy dress. Nothing fancy, a little dated. Anna could tell her outfit was well-worn, but clean. A modest, unadorned hat completed her look.

"I'm Anna Bates," she greeted and held out her hand.

The girl smiled and took her hand good-naturedly. "Are you Mr. Bates's sister?"

Anna paused slightly, her brow furrowing. "No, I'm his wife."

"Wife?" The younger woman looked genuinely surprised. "He's remarried?"

"Yes," she replied cautiously. This encounter was getting stranger with each passing moment. Anna gestured for her to sit. "Now what business do you have with Mr. Bates?"

"He's not here?" The girl questioned looking around out into the hallway.

"No, not presently." Anna didn't want to give away too much information before she knew what the visitor's intentions were.

"I was hoping to meet with him." Her hands clenched and unclenched nervously, her eyes cast down. "You see, my name is Elizabeth Bates and. . .I believe . . . John Bates is my father."

Anna froze. Her brain shut down. She could not comprehend the words just spoken. "Say that again."

"I'm fairly positive your husband is my father."

"I . . . I . . . don't know what to say. . ." Anna stumbled. Could it be possible? Would John have kept secret the existence of a daughter? No. Not possible. Absolutely not. She automatically dismissed the notion. There was no way he would have abandoned a child. He would have told her . . . or would he? He wasn't exactly forthcoming about his marital status when they first met. And he never talked of Africa. But a child? Would he willfully not support his own child?

Anna looked up and met the girl's eyes. Green eyes. Familiar eyes. So much like John's. Her heart plummeted in her chest.

"I seem to have caught you off guard. To be honest, it's all been quite a shock for me too."

"Miss. . .Bates," Anna struggled to get the name, her own name, out. "I'm not sure. . ."

"Bess. Call me Bess, everyone does," she smiled gently at Anna. "I think we were both left in the dark. Why don't I start at the beginning?"

Anna's heart beat an uneven tempo. What was she about to hear? Would it make their current predicament worse? . . . Was that even possible?

"All right, go ahead," she nodded towards the girl.

"I was raised in an orphanage in London. It's the only home I ever had. I just knew that my name was Elizabeth Bates and I had been brought there as a babe by my mother."

Was Vera her mother? Anna had no problem envisioning Vera giving up a child . . . giving up John's child. But would John have allowed her to do such a thing?

"It wasn't an ideal childhood. I longed for a real home with a mother and father like anyone else, but it just wasn't meant for me."

Anna couldn't help frown in empathy. Every child should have a family. Every child should know love.

Bess caught her face. "Oh, don't pity me."

Now that sounded familiar.

"The ladies that ran the orphanage were good, Christian women. They never hurt me in any way and made sure I stayed healthy and most importantly received an education. In fact, I was accepted to University." Bess sat a little taller, her carriage strong. Anna could tell she wasn't meaning to boast, but was genuinely proud of her accomplishments.

"I knew I wouldn't be able to attend since I couldn't afford the tuition. And once I reached maturity I wouldn't be able to stay at the orphanage any longer. My prospects were quite limited."

Bess paused and took a deep breath readying herself. Anna had a feeling the story was only about to begin.

"Then a little over a month ago, a few days after I reached maturity, everything changed."

So Bess was eighteen. That means she was born . . . Anna quickly did the math in her head . . . in 1902. Christ! That's when John was in Africa. Had Vera given their child away while he off fighting? Was Bess even his daughter? John had said she had affairs. Blood pounded through Anna's head.

"A solicitor showed up at St. Joseph's, that's the orphanage I was raised at, looking for me. I was still living there. The ladies in charge knew I had nowhere to go and were kind enough to hire me on as a cook. To my astonishment, he said I had inherited a rather large sum of money. I told him he must be mistaken for I had no family. He went on to explain that a woman claiming to be my mother had placed money in a trust for me upon her death that I could access once I turned eighteen."

Anna head snapped up. Her mother? Had Vera set aside money for a daughter she had given away years prior? It's true there wasn't much funds left in Vera's bank account at the time of her death. Even John had been surprised how fast she had spent through the money he had given her during his ill-fated attempt to obtain a divorce. Maybe she hadn't spent it after all. Maybe she was just hiding it from John.

"What was the name of the woman claiming to be your mother?" Anna had to know.

"Vera Bates." Anna's eyes closed. Bess was Vera's daughter. "The orphanage confirmed my parentage by pulling out my birth certificate from my file. It listed my parents as John and Vera Bates."

Bess was John's daughter too.

"Mrs. Bates, you have to understand that if it had just been the money, I don't think I would have been inclined to seek my father out. I had long ago made my peace with my parents for giving me up. It's not my place to cast blame. Everyone has reasons for their actions."

"That's a generous view," Anna couldn't help pointing out.

"Maybe, but there is more to the story. A letter came with the money. A letter from the woman claiming to be my mother. And to be frank, I found it quite disturbing. I wanted to find out what my fa. . . I mean, Mr. Bates . . . might make of it. In her letter, she mentioned he worked at Downton Abbey. That's how I ended up here. I hope I'm not overstepping my bounds, but I would like to speak with him."

"As I mentioned earlier, he is indisposed at the moment." A look of confusion crossed Bess's face. "But perhaps you might let me read your mother's letter."

"All right. It might help to get another perspective."

The young woman dug into her purse and pulled out a folded piece of paper. She delicately unfolded the paper before handing it to Anna.

"It's all very strange. Perhaps you can connect the dots more than I could."

Anna closed her eyes, took a deep breath and prayed. Please God, don't let this make our situation any worse than it already is. With her plea offered, she began to read.

November 4, 1918

Dear Elizabeth,

If you are in possession of this letter, I entrust that my solicitor has successfully located you and made you aware of the trust that I have bequeathed in your name.

I hope that you can put it to proper use. I know that it will never atone for your abandonment but it is all I have to offer. You must understand that I was not in a position to be a mother, nor was your sorry excuse of a father in any shape to support a family. When I discovered I was pregnant, he was about to ship out for godforsaken Africa. He just left me behind, all alone. He didn't even notice my endless morning sickness before he left. He was so full of himself for being promoted to a batman. It didn't bother him in the slightest to leave me for years on end and go play soldier. He never truly cared about me. Consequently, I knew he wouldn't care about a child either, so I didn't tell him I was expecting.

Believe me, you are better off never knowing John Bates. He returned from Africa drunk and lame, a waste of human flesh. I was ashamed to be his wife. He attempted to redeem himself up by becoming a valet to the Earl at that ridiculous Downton Abbey and taking up with his trollop maid. To think he wanted me to free him of our marriage vows, just so he could be happy, as if I would ever let that happen.

But don't worry, my daughter, I have a plan to hold him accountable for all the hardship he has caused us. I don't have much time left on this earth. The doctor has assured me the cancer is terminal, but I don't intend to fade away slowly. If I'm going to die, it's going to be of my own making and serve a purpose, primarily to make sure John Bates suffers. If all goes as intended, he will be spending the rest of his life in a dank, dark cell. Even though I will be the one to take my own life, the blood will be on his hands. If I don't do this now, then upon my death everything he ever desired would be his and I can't let that happen.

I wish you the best in life. Take the money, buy yourself some happiness. I have faith that you will put it to far better use than your father would have. Best of luck, my child.

Forever your mother,

Vera Bates

Anna sat stupefied. She held her breath, almost afraid to breathe. Had she really just read that Vera planned to kill herself and have John take the fall? Was this it? Was this the piece of evidence that would make the case against John crumble?

"So what do you make of it?" came Bess's voice. It sounded so far away. She had almost forgotten that the girl was in the same room.

Anna huffed a short breath. Her mind began to race a mile a minute. "Is this letter real? This isn't a joke, is it?" She reached out and grasped Bess's hand insistently.

Startled by Anna's sudden intensity, Bess answered cautiously. "As far as I know it is. I suppose her solicitor, Mr. Jennings, could verify it."

They had a name. There was someone who could authenticate the letter's contents and confirm that Vera wrote it. This was the key to John's freedom that Anna had been seeking.

"Is this letter important? I'll be perfectly honest, I was very happy to collect my mother's inheritance. It allowed me to continue my education, but . . ." Bess paused. ". . . something just didn't feel right. That's why I came here looking for Mr. Bates."

"Thank God you did," Anna croaked out and squeezed the girl's hand.

Purpose now filled Anna. She had to do something with the letter immediately. John had been away far too long. It was time for her to bring him home.

She let go of Bess's hand and stood. "Please don't go anywhere. I'll be right back. Have something to eat . . . a cup of tea . . . anything," Anna spoke in a rush as she pushed in her chair.

As she reached the door, she turned back. "Thank you. I'm forever grateful." With that she raced down the corridor with Vera's letter in hand.

She had to find Lord Grantham or Mr. Crawley, someone who would know what to do next. As she rounded the first flight of the servants' staircase, she ran into a startled Mrs. Hughes.

"Where is his Lordship?" she panted holding on to the banister.

"Anna, whatever is the matter? Does this have to do with your visitor?"

Grabbing the older woman by the shoulders, the letter crinkling in the process, Anna repeated desperately, "Where is his Lordship?"

"Outside with Mr. Crawley discussing estate affairs, I believe. Now Anna, what is going on?"

She was already halfway up the next flight before she paused to look back at Mrs. Hughes.

"I'll explain everything later, but I've got to speak with his Lordship at once. . . Oh, and please make sure Miss Bates doesn't leave. She can't."

"Miss Bates? None of this is making sense."

"Oh, it will. I promise."

She dashed up the remaining stairs and hit the first floor foyer at full speed. Her shoes clacked loudly upon stone tiles. She had never ran inside this part of the house before. Mr. Carson would have a heart attack if he saw her now. She only slowed at the front door to turn its dense knobs. With all her weight behind her, she propelled it open.

Hot, muggy air hit her like a train. It was overcast; rain was coming. But she kept running, through the gravel of the drive onto the grass. She could vaguely make out two figures far off in a distance by a copse of trees. It was Lord Grantham. She just knew it.

Sweat was dripping down her face now. Her dress hindered her stride. But she kept going even as her pace began to slow. She had to keep going. She had to for John. She had to for herself.

Almost there. She could clearly make out Lord Grantham and Mr. Crawley. He had Isis with him. The dog sat beneath a bench as two men stood talking. She could hear their voices. Almost there. Another twenty feet. They turned at the sound of her approach. Just a few more steps.

"In heaven's name Anna, what's wrong?" His Lordship probed anxiously as she reached their side. "Is it Cora? One of the girls?"

"No, none of them," she puffed out. "I have evidence. . ."

She thrust the letter at Mr. Crawley who was directly beside her and tried again. "I have evidence that may free Mr. Bates."

"Dear God, let me have a look at it."

As the two men perused the letter. Anna sank onto the bench behind them. She rested her elbows on her knees and tried to catch her breath. She idly petted Isis. She was definitely tired and her body felt old, aching from the sprint across the lawn. But maybe, just maybe, she wasn't a failure after all.

A/N: I am planning an epilogue. Just couldn't resist writing their reunion.

It was fun to incorporate Anna's run across the lawn that has been shown in trailers. Unfortunately, I don't think it will be good news that she is running with (like poor Bates has been shanked in prison—ugh!).

I hope you liked this rather crack story. I always thought that children (miscarriage, death, given up for adoption, abortion, etc) played a factor in the dissolution of Bates and Vera's marriage. It would have been nice to have given Vera some real motive for loathing Bates. But no, in the end, she was just crazy. Come on Fellowes, character development would have been nice!