26

On Sunday evening, Alvirah and Willy waited at Mariah’s until she returned with Lloyd Scott from the courthouse. Betty had left an assortment of sandwiches and fruit on the table for them before she and Delia left for the night. Alvirah said, “I know that Mariah won’t have much of an appetite, but maybe she’ll eat something when she gets home.”

It was clear that when Mariah arrived, she was grateful to find them waiting for her. Lloyd Scott walked with her into the living room. Alvirah and Willy had never met him, but they had watched him on the news and both sensed immediately that he was the right person to defend Kathleen and to protect Mariah.

Lloyd had not planned to stay, but Alvirah told him that she needed to talk to him about her meeting with Lillian. “I was just about to tell Mariah about it earlier, but then you came in and said that Kathleen had to surrender,” she explained. Then she added, “But let’s do it over a bite to eat.”

They sat around the dining table. Mariah, feeling as though a tsunami had engulfed her, realized that she had eaten almost nothing at the brunch and that she was hungry now. She even managed a smile when Willy placed a glass of red wine in front of her.

“After what you’ve been through the last week, you need it,” he said firmly.

“Thanks, Willy. And thank both of you for waiting here, and for all of this,” she said, gesturing to the food on the table.

Lloyd Scott helped himself to a sandwich and the glass of wine Willy was now pouring for him. “Mrs. Meehan,” he began.

“Please, we’re Alvirah and Willy,” Alvirah said, interrupting.

“And I’m Lloyd. As you may know I’m Kathleen and Mariah’s next-door neighbor. I knew Jonathan very well. He was a fine man. For his sake as well as Kathleen’s and Mariah’s, I am going to do my utmost to help Kathleen. I know it is what he would want.”

Alvirah hesitated briefly and then began. “I think I’m going to say it straight out. We all know that Kathleen may have shot Jonathan. On the other hand it wouldn’t be hard to set her up as the fall guy. She can’t defend herself. So let’s look at another angle. I had lunch with Lillian Stewart yesterday.”

“You did?” Mariah asked, shocked.

“Yes. She called me. She was really distraught. Don’t forget, Mariah, I met her on that cruise when she was with your father. After that I only saw her one other time, when your father invited us to his lecture at the 92nd Street Y. We had dinner but by then we had met you and she certainly sensed that I was uncomfortable being with her. That’s the last time I saw or heard from her until she called me out of the blue yesterday. She said she wanted to talk to me about something, so of course I said okay.”

“What did she tell you?” Lloyd Scott asked.

“That’s just it. Nothing. Between the time she called me sounding very anxious to talk and a few hours later when we actually met for lunch at the restaurant, it was obvious she had changed her mind about confiding in me. All she did basically was go on about how much she missed Jonathan and how he should have put your mother in a nursing home a long time ago.” Alvirah leaned back in her chair. “But without knowing it, she may have told me something very important.”

“What, Alvirah, what is it?” Lloyd Scott and Mariah asked the same question.

“I asked Lillian when was the last time she spoke to Jonathan and she told me it was the Wednesday evening before the Monday evening that he died.”

“But that’s impossible!” Mariah exclaimed. “I know that he always went to see Lillian over the weekend. Delia—who, as you know, is always here on the weekends when Rory is off—has told me about that. He’d spend part of Saturday with Mom, then take off. He often didn’t come back until Sunday afternoon, unless he knew I was coming over in the morning.”

“Think about this,” Alvirah said, allowing herself a degree of excitement. “Perhaps they weren’t speaking for those last five days. What if something big happened between them? And, Mariah, we haven’t had much time to talk, but I’ve read in the paper that your father may have come into possession of a valuable biblical letter and now nobody knows where it is. My question is, could he have given it to Lillian, and then they ended up fighting over it? And then he ends up dead? And Kathleen becomes the second victim—maybe of a setup?”

“If my father didn’t speak with Lillian for five days, that’s very significant,” Mariah said quietly. “Father Aiden told me at the funeral that Dad had visited him on Wednesday afternoon and that Dad was sure the parchment was genuine but was also very troubled that one of the experts he showed it to was only interested in its monetary value. From what I gather, that person wanted to sell it through the underground market. Dad absolutely intended to return it to the Vatican Library.”

“Do you know if your father went to confession that day with Father Aiden?” Alvirah asked.

“Father Aiden didn’t say that, but I also know he wouldn’t tell me if he did or he didn’t, since that would be privileged.”

“I’m not Catholic,” Lloyd Scott said, “but if your father went to confession, wouldn’t he be seeking forgiveness for something that he had done that he believed was wrong?”

“Yes,” Alvirah said firmly. “And take it one step more. If Jonathan was going to go to confession, he must have made up his mind to give up Lillian. So let’s suppose that’s the way it happened. And let’s suppose he told her it was over between them that Wednesday night, which is exactly when she told me that she last spoke to him.”

“The police took boxes of papers out of his office today,” Mariah said. “Some of them contained the documents he was translating, but I just don’t think he would put something as valuable as the letter there. In fact, I don’t think he would have kept it in the house since he knew that sometimes my mother rummages through his office. We certainly know that very well since she found the pictures of him and Lillian.”

“It would seem to me,” Lloyd said, “that it would have been logical of him to entrust the parchment to Lillian. We all know that they were very close. She could have kept it at her apartment or in some other secure location. My first thought is that Jonathan would have wanted the parchment that Wednesday evening, unless of course she was keeping it somewhere else and couldn’t give it to him. In that case they would have had further contact in the next few days. So maybe she really did give it to him before he died and maybe he actually did have it in his study that night.”

“I’ll say it again. When Lillian called me she was trying to make up her mind about something,” Alvirah replied positively. “Whatever she is holding back now has something to do with that parchment and maybe even with Jonathan’s death.”

“I would say we have to get the phone records of Jonathan’s home and cell phones immediately,” Lloyd said. “If he used either or both of those phones to call her, then we’ll see if Lillian is telling the truth about having no communication with him in those last few days.”

“I doubt he did,” Mariah said. “I caught him once using a cell phone that I knew was not his regular one. I just have the feeling that he would not have had his calls to Lillian showing up on any of the phone bills that went to the house. Frankly, he’d have been afraid I might see them.”

“You know, I’ve seen a lot of this kind of thing,” Alvirah said. “When people want to keep their communications private, they get one of those prepaid cell phones, then keep buying additional minutes for it as they go along.”

“As I see it,” Lloyd Scott said slowly, “it is entirely possible that Jonathan’s last visit to Lillian Stewart was to break off their relationship. If that is the case and if she was in possession of the parchment, then she may have given it back to him, in which event the prosecutor’s office will presumably find it in those boxes. I note that we only have her word for it that she and Jonathan didn’t speak for those several days. Or, and this is entirely possible, Lillian may have refused out of anger to give it back to him and his further communications with her to try to get it returned were on that other phone.”

Listening, Mariah felt as if a terrible weight was being lifted from her shoulders. “Until now, as much as I have fought it, I have believed in my own heart that my mother killed my father in a demented rage,” she said quietly. “But now I just don’t believe that’s true. Now I think there is another explanation, and we have to find out what it is.”

Lloyd Scott stood up from his chair. “Mariah, I need to digest all of this and decide what we share with the prosecutor at this point. I’ll pick you up at seven thirty tomorrow morning. That will give us plenty of time to get to court before nine. Good night, everyone.”

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