The Lost Years (21 page)

These thoughts were flooding her mind as she greeted Albert and Charles. She immediately sensed that there was tension between them. Charles was wearing his usual frown, only now it was
more like a scowl. Albert, normally quite easygoing, seemed troubled. Quickly Mariah ushered them and Greg into the living room, where Betty had laid out a platter of hot and cold hors d’oeuvres. In the past, it had been their custom to have a cocktail in her father’s study before dinner. Mariah sensed that they understood why they wouldn’t be in that room tonight.

A few minutes later the bell rang again. This time it was Alvirah and Willy and Father Aiden. “I’m so glad you could all make it,” Mariah said as she embraced each one of them. “Come on in. Everyone except Richard is here.”

A little while later as they were all chatting, Mariah realized that the always punctual Richard was nearly half an hour late. “He’s probably caught in traffic,” she commented to the others. “As we all know, you can normally set your watch by Richard.”

The thought crossed her mind that Richard had told her that he had just made a major decision. She wondered if he would tell her what it was tonight. She was also having a mixed reaction to the fact that Greg was taking over the role of host. It was he who offered to everyone the plate with the delicate sushi that Betty had prepared, and it was he who refilled glasses with the fine Merlot her father had enjoyed so much.

Then the chimes on the front door sounded again. Betty opened the door, and a moment later Richard stepped into the hallway and came directly to the living room. He was smiling. “Apologies, apologies,” he said. “I had a meeting that ran over. It’s so good to be with all of you.” He was looking at Mariah as he said it.

“Richard, what can I get you?” Greg asked.

“Don’t worry, Greg,” he replied as he started walking toward the bar, “I’ll get it myself.”

A few moments later, Betty stood in the doorway and signaled to Mariah that dinner was ready.

Mariah had already decided that she would not bring up the subject
of the parchment until they were having dessert. She wanted to create an atmosphere of warmth and closeness and had told a couple of them that this gathering would be a sort of tribute to her father. But she also wanted to loosen them up to the point where, no doubt with Alvirah’s help, she would get some sense of who knew what about the parchment.

By the time that Betty was clearing the dinner plates from the table the anecdotes about her father had evoked both humor and nostalgia. Mariah did notice that Alvirah had switched on the microphone in her diamond pin when Albert talked about how much Jonathan enjoyed roughing it at excavation sites but despised the idea of camping for the sake of camping. “He asked me what in the name of God I could find pleasurable in sleeping in a pup tent with the possibility of bears visiting in the middle of the night. I told him that since I discovered the Ramapo Mountains, I could enjoy camping and keep an eye on him at the same time.”

That was when Alvirah’s hand brushed against the pin on her shoulder, but Albert did not say anything more about keeping an eye on Jonathan.

Usually after dessert they had coffee or espresso in the living room. This time Mariah had asked Betty to serve it at the table. She did not want the group separated when she brought up the subject of the parchment.

It was Greg who unwittingly gave her the opportunity to bring it up in a way that seemed spontaneous. “I was in awe of Jonathan’s ability to read an ancient inscription and translate it, or see a piece of pottery and tell where it came from and how old it was,” he said.

“That’s exactly why the missing parchment my father told all of you about must be found,” Mariah said. “Father Aiden, Dad talked to you about it. From what I understand, he mentioned it to Albert and Charles and Greg. Richard, did he ever show it to you or tell you about it?”

“He left word on my answering machine that he couldn’t wait to tell me about his incredible find, but I never did see it.”

“When did all of you receive those calls?” Alvirah asked, her tone casual.

“The week before last,” Greg replied promptly.

“About two weeks ago,” Charles said musingly.

“Two weeks ago yesterday,” Albert said firmly.

“That would be the same day he left the message on my phone,” Richard volunteered.

“However, he told none of you what it was and didn’t show it to any one of you?” Mariah deliberately allowed the skepticism she felt to be heard in her tone.

“He left word on my machine at home that he thought he had found the Arimathea parchment,” Albert said. “I was on a hiking trip in the Adirondacks and only got back the morning after his death. By then of course I had seen the headlines.”

“The parchment was not in this house,” Mariah said. “I think you all should hear what Dad told Father Aiden.”

Before Father Aiden could speak, Charles Michaelson suggested, “Of course Jonathan may have jumped to the conclusion that it was the Arimathea letter, then after he made those calls realized he had made a mistake and never got around to calling any one of us back. We all know no expert ever wants to admit that he was wrong.”

The priest had been quietly observing the others at the table. “Charles, you and Albert and Richard are biblical scholars. Greg, I know you have a deep interest in the study of ancient ruins and artifacts,” he began. “Jonathan came to see me the Wednesday before he died. He was absolutely clear on the subject. He had found the Vatican letter, or the Arimathea parchment, as it is known.” He glanced at Alvirah and Willy. “As I explained in the car on the way over, this letter is believed to have been written by Christ shortly before His death. In it He thanked Joseph of Arimathea for all the kindness
he had extended to Him since He was a child. It was brought to Rome by Saint Peter and has always been a subject of debate.

“Some scholars believe that Joseph of Arimathea was at the temple in Jerusalem during Passover when the twelve-year-old Christ spent three days preaching there. Joseph was there when His parents came looking for Him and asked Him why He had not come home. Joseph heard him ask, ‘Did you not know that I must be about my Father’s business?’ At that moment Joseph came to believe that Jesus was the long-awaited Messiah.”

Father Aiden paused, then continued. “Later that year Joseph heard from his spies that King Herod’s son Archelaus now knew Jesus had been born in Bethlehem and might be the King of the Jews whom the Wise Men had been seeking. Archelaus was afraid of His power and was planning to have Him murdered.

“Joseph hurried to Nazareth and persuaded Mary and Joseph to allow him to take Jesus over the border to Egypt, where He would be safe. Jesus studied at the temple of Leontopolis for a period of time, then afterward went back and forth from His home in Nazareth to Leontopolis for further study until His public mission began. The presence of Coptic Christians in this area of Egypt supports that theory of course.”

Father Aiden’s voice became emphatic. “That parchment belongs in the Vatican Library. It was stolen from there over five hundred years ago. Recent scientific tests have suggested that the Shroud of Turin is indeed the burial robe of Christ. Similar tests may prove that this parchment is authentic beyond any doubt. Think of it: a letter written by Christ to one of His disciples! Even now it is priceless beyond imagination. If Jonathan did not show it to any of you who were his closest friends, and also experts in this field, and whose opinions he could trust, then surely you must be able to think of some other expert or experts he might have consulted.”

Before anyone could answer, the persistent ringing of the doorbell
chimes startled everyone. Mariah jumped up and hurried to answer it. When she threw open the door, Detectives Benet and Rodriguez were standing on the porch. Her heart pounding, she invited them in. “Is my mother all right?” she demanded, her voice rising.

The others had followed her from the dining room. “Is Rory Steiger here, Ms. Lyons?” Benet asked tersely.

Relieved, Mariah knew their presence had nothing to do with her mother but then realized that Benet could have phoned and asked her that question. He did not have to come here.

“No, there’s no need for Rory to be here when my mother’s in the hospital,” she said. “Why do you ask?”

“We called on Ms. Steiger today and she wasn’t home. When we got there we were told by Rory’s next-door neighbors that Rose Newton, a friend she was supposed to meet last night, had already rung their doorbell this morning. She was worried because they were going to have a special celebration dinner, but Rory hadn’t shown up. She didn’t answer her cell phone. At our request, the superintendent of the building checked the apartment while we were there. There was nothing out of order as far as they could tell. Ms. Newton had left her telephone number with the neighbor and the neighbor gave it to us. We contacted her. She still hasn’t heard from Rory. She’s very upset and believes that something is very wrong.”

You didn’t phone me because you wanted to see my reaction when you told me Rory was missing, Mariah thought. “I would agree,” she said slowly. “If Rory was even fifteen minutes late coming here because she was caught in traffic, she’d phone to say she was on her way and she’d be terribly apologetic about the delay.”

“That’s what we understand,” Benet commented, then looked around at the others who were standing in the foyer.

Mariah turned and introduced them. “I know you’ve met Father Aiden, Detective Benet.” She gestured toward Richard, Albert,
Charles, and Greg, who were standing in a semicircle “My father’s friends and colleagues,” she said.

Richard’s cell phone rang. With a murmured apology he stepped back and fumbled through his pockets for it. He did not realize that Alvirah, who was standing directly behind him, stepped back as well. Automatically she switched on the microphone in her sunburst pin, turning it to the highest amplifier setting.

By the time Richard finally answered the call, it had already gone to voice mail. Even without the microphone, Alvirah could hear Lillian’s agitated and sullen voice as Richard played the message. “Richard, I’ve decided to accept your two-million-dollar offer. Get back to me.”

The distinct click at the end of her message was echoed by the sound of Richard’s phone as he snapped it closed.

A
s soon as Willy, Alvirah, and Father Aiden were in the car on the way home from dinner, Alvirah played back the message Lillian had left on Richard’s cell phone. The shock and disbelief she had felt on hearing it was also the reaction of the two men. There was no question in the mind of any of them that when Lillian said she had decided to accept Richard’s offer, she was referring to the Vatican letter.

“It sounds to me as if she’s had other offers,” Willy observed, “if Richard is willing to pay two million dollars for it.”

“My guess is that any offers would have to be anywhere from one million on up,” Alvirah said. “I wouldn’t have thought Richard had that kind of money. Being a college professor isn’t exactly like being on Wall Street.”

“He was brought up on Park Avenue,” Father Aiden said. “I know that his grandfather was a very successful businessman. My question is, what would Richard do with the parchment?”

“My guess is that he might want to see it returned to the Vatican Library,” Alvirah said hopefully.

“That would be a noble thing, but the fact is Richard has denied ever having seen the parchment. Now we know he is not only aware that Lillian has it, but he has actually been trying to buy it,” Father Aiden pointed out. “So that means Richard’s motives are suspect.
I’m sure he knows collectors who would pay a fortune to get their hands on that parchment just for the thrill of owning it.”

Alvirah sadly admitted to herself that what Father O’Brien had said made plenty of sense. “Those two detectives made appointments to meet with Richard and Charles and Albert and Greg tomorrow,” she said. “That will keep them pretty busy. I wouldn’t like to have them cross-examining me if I had anything to hide.”

“They don’t cross-examine anyone,” Willy pointed out. “That only happens in a trial. But I guess they will try to pin them down.” Then he added, “How about that missing caregiver? Alvirah, did we ever meet her?”

“Rory? I think once last year, but she was on her way upstairs with Kathleen. I didn’t get much of an impression of her.”

“She was at Kathleen’s side in the funeral parlor and throughout the day of the funeral,” Father Aiden said. “She was certainly very attentive to her.”