The Lost Years (28 page)

When asked where he was on the night Jonathan Lyons died, he retorted, “Once again, let me tell you, and I will speak slowly so that you’ll get it straight. I was at home on Sutton Place. I got there at five thirty and didn’t go out again until the next morning.”

“Was anyone with you?” Benet asked.

“No. Happily, since my divorce, I live alone.”

“Did you receive any phone calls that evening, Mr. Michaelson?”

“No, I did not. Wait a minute. The phone rang around nine o’clock that evening. I could see that the caller was Albert West and I was not in the mood to speak to him so I didn’t answer.”

Abruptly, Michaelson stood up. “If you have any more questions for me, you can submit them in writing to my lawyer.” He reached in his pocket and flipped a card onto Benet’s desk. “Now you know how to reach him. Good afternoon to both of you.”

R
ichard Callahan’s interview was scheduled for four
P.M
. When he had not arrived by four forty-five, Simon attempted to reach him on his cell phone. It went directly to voice mail. Frustrated, Simon left a brusque message for Richard regarding his missed appointment. “Mr. Callahan, I don’t know why there would be any confusion about the fact that you were supposed to be here at four o’clock. It is imperative that you contact me as soon as you receive this message so we can reschedule, preferably for tomorrow.

“Once again I am leaving my cell phone number…”

A
fter Mariah, Alvirah, and Willy had given up on waiting for Lillian and left the lobby of her apartment building, they crossed the street together and went down into the Lincoln Center garage, where they’d parked their cars only a few rows apart. Alvirah promised to call Mariah immediately if Lillian’s doorman phoned to say that she had come home.

All the details of her day were running through Mariah’s mind as she drove back to New Jersey. She wanted to be close by her mother in case she was allowed to visit her. When she got to her parents’ home she left the car in the driveway, and, with a feeling of infinite weariness, she made her way to the front door and took out her key. As she stepped into the house, the thought ran through her mind that until the last few days, she had almost never been there alone. Better get used to it, she told herself as she dropped her shoulder bag on the table in the foyer and walked back to the kitchen. She had given Betty the day off, so she put on the kettle, made herself a cup of tea, then carried it outside to the patio.

Mariah settled into a chair at the umbrella table and watched the early evening shadows slant across the bluish-gray cobblestones. The colorful umbrella was closed now, and it brought back the memory of the night, about ten years ago, when her parents were out and a sudden summer storm had come up. The wind had toppled the umbrella
over. It had taken the table with it, causing the glass tabletop to shatter in a hail of windblown shards.

Like my life now, Mariah thought. Another sudden storm just over a week ago and now I’m left to pick up the pieces. When Alvirah plays that recording for the detectives, she wondered, will it be enough proof for them to charge Lillian and Richard with conspiracy to buy and sell stolen property? Or will Lillian and Richard be smart enough to come up with another explanation for why she was accepting some offer from him?

And I don’t think the safe-deposit records at her bank will give any hint to what she took out today, Mariah decided as she slowly sipped the tea.

What’s going to happen to Mom at the court hearing on Friday? was the next question that rushed into her mind. From what the nurses are telling me, she seems to be pretty quiet. Oh, God, if only she could be allowed to come home, she thought.

Then, realizing that it was cooling down rapidly, she carried her empty cup into the house. She was barely back in the kitchen when Alvirah phoned.

“Mariah, I tried you on your cell phone and you didn’t answer. Are you all right?” Alvirah asked anxiously.

“Sorry. My cell phone is in my bag in the foyer and I didn’t hear it ring. Alvirah, have you heard anything?”

“Yes and no. I called Detective Benet and he was very interested. He wants to make a copy of Lillian’s message to Richard. In fact, he’s on his way in to our apartment now. Boy, that guy wastes no time! But here’s what he told me: Richard had an appointment with him in the prosecutor’s office this afternoon and he didn’t show up or call.”

“What does that tell you?” Mariah asked numbly.

“I don’t know what it tells me,” Alvirah said, “except to say that all of this is so out of character for the Richard I know. I can’t believe it’s happening.”

“Out of character for the person I know too.” Mariah bit her lip, afraid that her voice was breaking.

“Any word about Kathleen?”

“No. I’m going to call the hospital now, not that they really tell me anything,” Mariah answered, swallowing over the lump in her throat. “But as I told you, this morning they said Mother had slept reasonably well.”

“Okay. That’s about it for now, but I’ll call if I reach Lillian or hear from her doorman.”

“I don’t care what time it is. Please call me. I’ll be sure to have my cell phone in my pocket if I go out again.”

A few minutes later the doorbell rang. It was Lisa Scott.

“Mariah, we just got home. We saw your car in the driveway. Lloyd’s going out to pick up some Chinese food. Come on over and have something to eat with us,” she offered.

“Okay, but I’d better not read the fortune cookies,” Mariah said with a weak smile. “I’d love to be with you. This has not been the best day of my life, as I’ll explain to you and Lloyd. I’ll be over in a few minutes. First I want to call the hospital and check on my mother.”

“Sure thing. Maybe just this once we’ll have a glass of wine,” Lisa said jokingly. “Or two,” she added.

“Sounds good to me. See you in a bit.”

It was getting dark. Mariah switched on the outside lights, then went into the study and turned on the lamps on the tables at each end of the couch. She hesitated, then knew she did not want to make the call from her father’s study. She went back into the kitchen and dialed the hospital. When she reached the nurse at the desk on the psychiatric floor and inquired about her mother, she could sense from the pause that the nurse’s response was guarded.

“Your mother had a difficult afternoon and had to be given some extra sedation. She is resting quietly now.”

“What happened?” Mariah demanded.

“Ms. Lyons, as you know, there is an ongoing court-ordered evaluation of your mother and I am not at liberty to say very much. She was quite agitated, but I can assure you she is calm now.”

Mariah did not try to keep the frustration out of her voice. “As you can surely understand, I am sick with worry about my mother. Is there nothing else you can tell me?”

“Ms. Lyons, the judge has ordered that the report be faxed to his chambers by two o’clock Thursday afternoon. That’s tomorrow. My understanding from past experience is that the attorneys will get a copy of it. Your mother’s behavior and the doctor’s conclusions will be detailed in the report.”

Mariah knew she could not push any further. Thank you, I guess, she thought as she politely said good-bye to the nurse and hung up the phone.

A half hour later, over wonton soup, she filled Lloyd and Lisa in about everything that had happened since Lloyd had stopped by to see her that morning. “I feel as though this morning was a week ago,” she said. “And now we have every reason to believe Lillian went to the bank to get the parchment and that she was on her way to deliver it to Richard. If that’s the case, and if it’s proven that they have basically stolen it, can’t they both be charged with a crime?”

“You bet they can, and if it can be proven, they will be,” Lloyd replied emphatically. “It would seem that Jonathan gave the parchment to Lillian for safekeeping and Richard either knew that or figured it out. The one thing I can’t understand at this point is where Rory fits into the whole picture. It may be as simple as the fact that she knew that the detectives would be checking out everybody, and with that parole warrant from years ago hanging over her head, she simply took off.”

“On the other hand, maybe she’s involved in some way,” Mariah speculated. “If anybody was in a position to set up my mother, it was Rory.”

Lisa had not yet said anything. “Mariah, it would make sense if your father and Lillian were breaking up that Lillian might want to get rid of your father, so that she could hang on to the parchment. Did you ever notice any quiet conversation between Lillian and Rory?”

“I can’t say that I did, but on the other hand Rory had only been my mother’s caregiver for six months when those photos of Venice were found. Lillian was never in the house again. But we don’t know if Lillian and Rory were calling each other.”

“Rory vanished forty-eight hours ago. No one has seen her since,” Lloyd said slowly. “Now you say Lillian left her apartment a little before nine this morning, and as of about forty minutes ago when you spoke to Alvirah, she still hadn’t returned.”

“That’s right,” Mariah said. “I can’t help but think that maybe she and Richard are out somewhere celebrating.”

“You told me that Richard missed his appointment with the prosecutor’s office. That doesn’t sound right to me. If anything, you’d think he’d get there early, to appear cooperative and cover his tracks.”

“Lloyd, when I talked about speaking to the nurse, I told you that she said that the judge would have the psychiatric report by two tomorrow afternoon and the attorneys would get a copy. But I didn’t think to ask you, at what time do
you
get it?”

“I’m sure the judge will give it to the prosecutor and me before the end of the day, so that we can look at it overnight.”

“Can you show it to me when you get home?”

“Of course, Mariah. Now, for heaven’s sake, have some of that sesame chicken. You hardly even touched the soup.”

With an apologetic smile, Mariah started to reach for the plate when her cell phone rang. She grabbed it out of her pocket, murmuring,
“I hope it’s Alvirah.” But then she saw the caller ID and said, “If you can believe it, it’s Richard. I’m not going to answer. Let’s see if he leaves a message and what lie he comes up with.”

The three sat silent until her phone chimed, indicating that there was a new voice mail. Mariah played it on speakerphone: “Mariah, I am so very sorry. I have made a terrible mistake.
Please
call me.”

“Mariah, maybe you should call him back,” Lloyd began, then stopped.

Mariah’s face was buried in her hands and her shoulders were shaking with sobs.

“I can’t talk to him,” she whispered. “I can’t.”