The Lost Years

46

As soon as Alvirah realized she had lost Lillian, she phoned Willy.

“Where have you been, honey?” he asked. “I was getting worried about you. I’ve circled the block a million times. The traffic cop thinks I’m a stalker. What’s going on?”

“Willy, I’m sorry. I chased behind her into the subway. I got on the same train and ducked down behind some big guys. She got off at Chambers Street, but I lost her in the crowd going up the stairs.”

“That’s too bad. What do you want to do now?”

“I’m going to come back uptown and sit in her lobby. If it takes all day, I’m going to have a showdown with that lady. Why don’t you go on home?”

“No way,” he replied firmly. “I don’t like this whole business, and with Rory missing, who knows who’s doing what? I’ll park the car at Lincoln Center and come in and sit with you.”

Alvirah knew that when Willy used that tone of voice, there was no changing his mind. Taking one last look around in the hope that Lillian might emerge from one of the many office buildings in the area, she sighed in resignation and retraced her steps back down into the subway.

Twenty-five minutes later she was at the door of Lillian’s apartment building across from Lincoln Center again. The doorman told her that Ms. Stewart was not home and then added, “There’s a lady and a gentleman already waiting for her in the lobby, ma’am.”

That would be Willy, Alvirah thought. I wonder who the woman is? On quick reflection, she decided that it would be Mariah.

She was right. Mariah and Willy were seated on leather chairs on opposite sides of a round glass table in a corner of the lobby. They were deep in conversation, but both looked up when they heard her footsteps clicking on the marble floor.

Mariah stood up and embraced Alvirah. “Willy’s been filling me in,” she explained. “I gather that we’ve all come to the same conclusion, that Lillian does have the parchment and that it’s time to confront her.”

“Has or had the parchment,” Alvirah said grimly. “As I’m sure Willy told you, she left the bank carrying a tote bag with some kind of package in it. My guess is that the parchment was in her safe-deposit box and she was delivering it to somebody this morning.”

Alvirah caught Willy’s questioning glance and knew she would have to tell Mariah that she had overheard and taped Lillian’s phone message to Richard last night. “Mariah, I think this is going to be a nasty surprise,” she said as she sat down next to her. She reached for the playback button on her sunburst pin and activated the tape.

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing,” Mariah said, biting her quivering lip as shock and disappointment flooded her. “That means Lillian was probably on her way to meet Richard this morning. He absolutely swore to me that he had not seen the parchment. Now I find out he struck a deal for it. God, I feel so betrayed, not just for myself, but worse still for my father. He really loved and respected Richard.”

“Well, we’ll just sit here and wait her out,” Alvirah said. “I’d like to see how she tries to weasel her way out of this one.”

Resolutely, Mariah blinked back the tears that were welling in her eyes. “Alvirah, on my way here at about ten o’clock, Greg called me. He wanted to see how I was and if I had heard anything more about Rory. I told him I was actually in my car and heading into the city to have it out with Lillian because I believe Dad gave her the parchment to hold for him. I told Greg that if Lillian wasn’t here, I intended to spend the whole day waiting in the lobby if necessary. He said he’d walk over here at about twelve thirty, unless I called him back to change it.”

At twelve twenty Greg walked into the building. Alvirah noticed with approval his protective embrace of Mariah as he leaned over her chair and kissed the top of her head. “Have you seen her yet?” he asked.

“No,” Willy said, “and I have a suggestion. Greg, why don’t you take the girls to lunch and bring me back a sandwich? Alvirah and Mariah, I promise I’ll call you right away if she shows up. We can’t get around the fact that the doorman will tell her that I’m here. But even if she bolts for the elevator, you can phone her when you get back here and play that tape. You can tell her we’re going straight to the cops with it. Trust me, she’ll talk to us.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Greg said. “But after lunch I have to head out to New Jersey. My appointment with those detectives is at three o’clock.”