The Lost Years

79

After she called Lloyd to tell him that Mariah might be missing, Alvirah rushed to shower and dress, leaving the half-eaten Danish on her plate. Her heart pounding with anxiety, she dressed in her lightweight running suit, swallowed her vitamins, and hastily put on some light makeup. Just as she was finishing, Lloyd phoned to say that Mariah’s car had been found.

“I’m on my way to the prosecutor’s office,” he said tersely. “That guy Gruber should be there by now. If he’s on the level, saving Mariah’s life may depend on the description he gives to them.”

“Lloyd, I have had my suspicions,” Alvirah said. “And since yesterday I’m ninety-nine percent sure that I’m right. Albert West told the prosecutor’s office that Charles Michaelson was trying to sell the parchment, but then I made Albert call his source, who admitted that the so-called tip came from an anonymous phone call. I think the person who made that phone call was trying to set Michaelson up. I just don’t believe Michaelson or West is involved.”

Warming up to her theory, Alvirah paced back and forth across the bedroom as she spoke. “That leaves Richard Callahan and Greg Pearson. My gut tells me Richard is not a killer. I knew he was holding back on something, and then I realized it’s as plain as the nose on your face. He’s so in love with Mariah that he’s been willing to spend most of his own money to try to get that parchment back.”

Hoping she was getting through to Lloyd, Alvirah said, “Lloyd, I can’t be one hundred percent positive until we see that composite, but that leaves only Greg Pearson.”

“Alvirah, hold on. I’m Kathleen’s attorney. With the exception of Mariah, there’s nobody who wants to get the real killer more than I do. So even if everything you surmise is true, I can tell you right now that no jury would ever convict Greg Pearson on evidence that consists primarily of Wally Gruber’s identification. Pearson’s attorney would annihilate him on cross-examination.”

“I agree with you. I understand what you’re saying. But he has to have a place where he’s kept the parchment. He’d never be dumb enough to hide it in his apartment or office or a safe-deposit box. But if he thought that Gruber had identified somebody else and he was out of the woods, he might feel comfortable going to wherever that parchment is hidden.”

Pleading her case to Lloyd, Alvirah tried to keep her voice from rising too much. “And you know, I think even the detectives are pretty convinced that Lillian had the parchment under her arm when she got on the subway. She had to be going somewhere to meet someone. I think it was Greg. Think about it. Rory could have let him in the house that night. She knew where Jonathan kept the gun. Rory could have easily left it out somewhere for him. She’s an ex-con who skipped parole. Maybe Greg found out about her secret past and threatened to expose her if she didn’t cooperate. And then he had to get rid of Rory because she was a danger to him.”

“Alvirah, what you’re saying makes sense, but why would he go after Mariah?” Lloyd said.

“Because he was crazy about her and could see that Mariah was crazy about Richard. I could always tell that he was jealous. He never took his eyes off her. Add that to his being terrified that he would be identified from that composite. I think all this probably sent him over the edge. My opinion is that the only way we have any hope of finding Mariah is to make Greg Pearson believe the composite shows someone else so he’s sure he can come and go without anyone watching him.”

Alvirah took a breath. Her voice passionate, she added, “I’ve got to talk to Simon Benet. If that sketch is of Greg, Simon has simply got to lead him into believing that he’s in the clear. After that, Greg has to be followed around the clock.”

“Alvirah, as much as you’re helping, I don’t think that Detective Benet will tell you about the results of the composite,” Lloyd said. “But, as Kathleen’s attorney, he will tell me. I will absolutely convey to him everything you have said, and I will call you back right after I speak to him.”

“Lloyd, please make him understand that if Mariah is still alive, this may be her only chance to survive.”

Willy had been making the bed and listening to Alvirah’s side of the conversation. “Honey, it sounds to me like you got this whole thing figured out. I hope they’ll listen to what you said. It sure makes sense to me. You know, I never said anything, but whenever we were with Greg at Jonathan’s dinners, I could never quite figure out what made him tick. He always acted like the others were the ones who knew the most about that ancient stuff, but a couple of times he came out with a comment that said to me he knew a whole lot more than he let on.”

Alvirah’s face crumpled. “I keep thinking about poor Kathleen and how awful it would be for her if Mariah is gone. Even with the Alzheimer’s, at some point it would sink in and it would kill her.”

Willy was about to place the decorative pillows against the headboard. His forehead deeply lined, his warm blue eyes clouded with concern, he said, “Honey, I think you’d better start getting ready to hear some very bad news about Mariah.”

“I won’t believe that,” Alvirah said forcefully. “Willy, I can’t believe that.”

Willy dropped the pillows and hurried to put his arms around her. “Hang on, sweetheart,” he said. “Hang on.”

The loud sound of the telephone ringing startled both of them. It was the doorman. “Willy, a Mr. Richard Callahan is here. He says he has to see you right away.”

“Send him up, Tony,” Willy said. “Thanks.”

As they waited for Richard to come up, the phone rang yet again. It was Lloyd Scott. “Alvirah, you were right. I’m at the prosecutor’s office and I’ve seen the composite. It’s a dead ringer for Greg Pearson. I’ve been talking to Simon Benet. He agrees that at this point your suggestion is probably the best option they have. We know Pearson is in his office. Benet is going to make the call to him in about a half an hour, after he’s sure the New York guys are in place to follow him.”