The Lost Years

8

At the church Detectives Benet and Rodriguez had observed Lillian Stewart slipping into the Mass late and leaving early. They followed her to the cemetery and, using binoculars, observed her going to the grave, then Richard Callahan joining her in her car and putting his arms around her.

“And what do we make of that?” Detective Rodriguez asked as they drove back to the prosecutor’s office in Hackensack, stopping only to pick up coffee. Finally they were in their office reviewing their notes on the case.

Simon Benet’s forehead was drenched in perspiration. “Wouldn’t it be nice if the air-conditioning worked in this place?” he complained. “And will you tell me why I didn’t get iced coffee?”

“Because you don’t like iced coffee,” Rodriguez said calmly. “Neither do I.”

They exchanged a brief smile. Simon Benet thought again that he always admired Rita’s ability to deftly ferret out discrepancies in anyone’s account so that it seemed she was only anxious to help the witness, rather than to catch that person in a lie.

Together they made a good team.

Benet started the conversation. “That caregiver, Rory, sure likes to talk. She was a fountain of information about what was going on in the house Monday night. Let’s go over what we have.” He began to read from his notes. “Rory has weekends off, but the weekend caregiver asked her to switch because she had a family wedding. Rory agreed, but then the caretaker couldn’t make it back by Monday evening, and Professor Lyons told Rory to go home anyhow, that he could take care of his wife by himself for one night.”

Benet continued. “She said that Professor Lyons had been in New York that day and seemed tired, and even depressed, when he got home at five o’clock. He asked how his wife had been, and Rory had to tell him that she had been very agitated. The housekeeper, Betty Pierce, served dinner at six o’clock. Rory was planning to meet a friend for a late dinner in Manhattan but sat with them at the table. Mrs. Lyons kept talking about wanting to go to Venice again. Finally, to appease her, the professor promised they would go back there soon and have a second honeymoon.”

“Which was obviously the wrong thing to say,” Rodriguez commented. “Because according to Rory, Mrs. Lyons got upset and said something like, ‘You mean you’ll take me instead of Lily? I don’t believe you.’ After that she wouldn’t look at him again, closed her eyes, and refused to eat anything. Rory took her upstairs, got her into bed, and she fell asleep immediately.”

The detectives looked at each other. “I don’t remember whether or not Rory said anything about what medication she gave Mrs. Lyons that night,” Benet admitted.

Rodriguez answered. “She said Mrs. Lyons was so tired that it wasn’t necessary, that when she came downstairs, Betty Pierce was just leaving, and the professor had carried his second cup of coffee into his office. Rory looked in on him to let him know that she was on her way out.”

“That’s pretty much it,” Rita concluded. “Rory checked the front door on her way out to be sure it was locked. She and Betty Pierce always left by the kitchen door because their cars were parked in the back. She swears that door was locked too. She never knew Professor Lyons kept a gun in a drawer in his desk.”

They both closed their notebooks. “So what we have is a house that normally would have a caregiver in it, no sign of a break-in, a woman suffering from dementia who had been angry at her husband and was found hiding in a closet holding the gun that killed him. But she was very consistent in saying, ‘So much noise… so much blood.’ That could mean the shot woke her up, and she’d be an easy person to set up if she didn’t do it.” Benet tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair, a habit when he was thinking aloud. “And we couldn’t talk to her immediately in the house or in the hospital because she was so hysterical, and afterward she was heavily medicated.”

“We also have a daughter who’s angry about her father’s relationship with his mistress and who probably has the guardianship of her mother in case of her father’s death,” Rita said. “And here’s another angle. If Jonathan Lyons had ever decided to divorce his wife, Kathleen, and marry Lillian Stewart, their assets would be split, and Mariah Lyons would have ended up with full responsibility for her mother.”

Simon Benet leaned back in his chair, pulled out his handkerchief, and mopped his brow. “Tomorrow morning, we’ll try to talk to the mother and to Mariah again. As we both know, most cases of this kind turn out to be family affairs.” He paused. “And let’s talk to somebody about getting the air-conditioning fixed!”