The Lost Years

29

From the last row of the courtroom, Detectives Simon Benet and Rita Rodriguez had observed the arraignment of Kathleen Lyons. When it was over, they went downstairs to their second-floor office and found Father Joseph Kelly, the biblical scholar they had hired, waiting for them. After they had spoken with Father Aiden and had learned of the possibility that a valuable ancient parchment had been in Jonathan’s possession, they had contacted Father Kelly to let him know that his services might be needed and told him what they would be looking for.

During the search of the Lyons home yesterday, Mariah had pointed out the box of documents that her father had been working on. Simon had called Father Kelly last night and asked him to come to the prosecutor’s office at nine thirty this morning.

“Father,” Rita began, “we understand that this is the box of documents that Jonathan Lyons was translating when he died. We did a quick check early this morning of all the other items that we seized and this seems to be the only one containing this type of document.”

Father Kelly, eighty-two years old but remarkably fit, said dryly, “I assure you that a letter that may have been written by Christ to Joseph of Arimathea must not be considered a ‘type of document.’ If I find it here, I will consider myself blessed to have even held it.”

“I understand,” Simon said. “I must explain that it is strict protocol to have a member of the prosecutor’s staff present whenever an expert reviews evidence.”

“That’s fine with me. I’m ready to start.”

“The office next door is ready for you. I’ll carry it in.”

Five minutes later, Simon and Rita, each with a fresh cup of coffee in hand, were once more alone in their shared office. “If Father Kelly finds the parchment, it tells me that the case begins and ends with Kathleen Lyons,” Simon said. “The daughter told us when he wasn’t home or wasn’t working on those documents, he kept them locked in the file drawer in his desk. That’s where they were when he was shot. But if that one parchment isn’t there, whomever he may have given it to ought to have told Mariah by now. Even she admitted to us that he may very well have been afraid to have it anywhere near Kathleen after she found and cut up those pictures.”

Rita was silent for a moment, then looked directly at him. “Simon, I’m going to be honest with you. Watching Kathleen Lyons in that courtroom today, it’s hard to envision her managing to hide that gun from everyone, possibly load it herself, then sneak up behind him and shoot him—not to mention standing back ten to fifteen feet and putting the bullet squarely in the back of his head.”

She knew that Simon was getting angry. “Look,” she said, “before you jump all over me, let me finish. I know that she used to go shooting at the range with her husband so she certainly knew in the past how to fire that gun. But did you see her today? Physically she didn’t seem coordinated at all. She was looking all over the place, completely bewildered. That was no act. I bet the shrinks find that her attention level is almost nonexistent. I say that if we don’t have the parchment in that box then whoever has it wants to sell it and may have been involved in Jonathan’s death.”

“Rita, we arrested the right person last night.” Simon’s voice was raised. “Kathleen Lyons acted no different today than she has every time we saw her since she shot her husband. I do think she has some level of Alzheimer’s, but that didn’t prevent her from cutting up those pictures a while ago because she was angry at him, and it apparently didn’t prevent her from shooting him in the head last week because she was still angry at him.”

An hour later there was a knock on their door and Father Kelly entered. “There aren’t many documents in the box and I was able to review them fairly quickly. There is nothing of any real value in there and certainly there is no letter written by Christ, I can assure you of that. Is there anything more you need me to do?”