The Lost Years (17 page)

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Authors: Mary Higgins Clark

BOOK: The Lost Years
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Kathleen obviously realized that he was talking to her. She glanced at him but then turned to look at Mariah again. “I want to go home,” she moaned. “I want to go home.”

Heartsick, Mariah listened as the prosecutor read aloud the charges of murder and possession of a firearm for an unlawful purpose, and then Lloyd’s firm “not guilty” response.

Judge Brown indicated that he would now hear from the attorneys regarding bail. “Prosecutor Jones, since Ms. Lyons was just arrested last night, bail has not yet been set. I’ll hear your recommendations, then Mr. Scott can speak.”

Mariah listened as the prosecutor argued that the State had a very strong case and that he recommended a five-hundred-thousand-dollar monetary bail. But before she could be released, he also wanted an inpatient psychiatric evaluation so that the judge could set “appropriate conditions to protect the community.”

Protect the community from my mother? Mariah raged inwardly. She needs to
be
protected,
not
the other way around.

It was Lloyd Scott’s turn. “Your Honor, my client is seventy years
old and is in extremely fragile health. She suffers from advanced dementia. Five hundred thousand dollars’ bail is extremely excessive, and unnecessary in this case. She is a thirty-year resident of Mahwah and poses absolutely no risk of flight. We guarantee the court that she will have round-the-clock care and supervision in her home. We beseech Your Honor to let her be released on bail today and schedule another hearing in a week regarding bail conditions after an outpatient psychiatric evaluation is completed. I note that I have already arranged with a bondsman to have the monetary bail posted in whatever amount Your Honor chooses to set today.”

Mariah realized she was praying. Please, God, let the judge understand. Let him send her home with me.

The judge leaned forward. “The purpose of bail is to ensure the appearance of a defendant in court and the conditions of bail are set to protect the community. This lady is charged with murder. She is absolutely presumed innocent, but I conclude that under the circumstances, it is imperative that an inpatient psychiatric evaluation be performed and that I receive a detailed report so I can make an informed decision regarding the amount of bail as well as appropriate conditions of bail. She will be remanded to Bergen Park Medical Center for an inpatient evaluation, and I will have a further hearing in this court this Friday at nine o’clock. She may not be released on bail until this hearing is held. This is the order of the court.”

Stunned, Mariah watched as the sheriff’s officers escorted Kathleen back into the holding cell area, Lloyd following them. Mariah stood up as he turned and gestured for her to wait for him. The photographers who had been allowed to take pictures during the proceeding were being directed by the sheriff’s officers to leave. Within a couple of minutes she was alone in the courtroom.

When Lloyd came out ten minutes later, she asked, “Can I see Mom?”

“No. I’m sorry, Mariah. She is in custody. They don’t allow that.”

“How is she? Tell me the truth.”

“I won’t lie to you. She’s very frightened. She wants her scarf. Why would she want to tie it around her face?”

Mariah stared at him. “She’s been doing that since Dad was killed. Lloyd, listen to me. Suppose she heard the shot and ran to the top of the stairs. Suppose she saw someone with some kind of covering on their face. Suppose that’s what’s going through her mind.”

“Mariah, calm down. I really think she’ll be released on Friday. Maybe we can somehow get through to her then.”

“Lloyd, don’t you see? If someone with their face covered came into the house, then either that person had a key, or the door was left unlocked. That lock is fixed now so that Mom cannot open it from the inside ever since she got out that time. We know the police said that there was no sign of forced entry. That’s part of the reason that they’re charging Mom.

“Betty, our housekeeper, told me she left at about seven thirty that night, after my parents had dinner and she cleaned the kitchen. She’s been with us for over twenty years. I trust her implicitly. Rory has been with us for two years. She sat with Mom during dinner and then got her to bed. Mom hadn’t slept well the night before and was agitated and tired. Rory said she fell asleep right away. Rory claimed she checked the lock on the front door, as she always does, then left. She said it was just a few minutes after Betty had gone.”

“Maybe it’s time to check on Rory,” Lloyd replied. “I use a very good private investigator on some of my cases. I’ll call him. If there’s something in her background that we should know about, he’ll find it.”

28
 

 

O
nce again the collector received an unwanted phone call from Rory. “I was just at the house,” she said. “Mariah and the lawyer were leaving to go to court. I have to tell you I’m getting nervous. They said something about Kathleen being framed. Before now, I thought they were just going to try to prove she was crazy. God knows
that’s
true. Are you sure you didn’t leave any evidence behind, like your fingerprints or something like that?”

“We already have a meeting scheduled for tonight. Couldn’t you have waited to discuss this with me?”

“Listen, I don’t need you talking to me like I’m dirt. You and I are both knee-deep into this. If for any reason they start checking into me, they’ll find out about my prior record and I’ll be a dead duck. I’ll meet you tonight. Make sure you have my payment in full. It’s getting too hot for me around here. I’m going to take off before it’s too late. And don’t worry about hearing from me anymore after tonight, because you won’t.”

“The fact that you have a prior record will not be proof that you had anything to do with any of this,” he replied tersely. “But if you disappear, they’ll know you were involved, and then they’ll track you down. So just don’t panic. If they talk to you, play the role of the loving caregiver who can’t wait for dear Kathleen to come home.”

“I can’t do that. It won’t work. I lied when I applied to the agency
for the caregiver job. You know I made up a new name. I violated parole. I’ve got to get out of here.”

“Suit yourself,” he snapped. “I’ll have the money for you tonight. As we agreed, you will take the subway downtown to the Chambers Street station. Be there precisely at eight o’clock. I’ll pull up on the corner in a small black car, the same one you’ve seen before. We’ll ride around the block. I’ll give you the money; you can count it. Then I’ll drop you right back off at the subway and you can go and live your life.”

As Rory disconnected the call, she thought about how she had really planned never to get in trouble again after she had been released from prison the last time. If only Joe Peck had asked me to marry him, she thought. If he had, I’d never have taken that job in New Jersey. I never would have been in that house when this creep came to dinner and recognized me. And then blackmailed me into getting involved in this.

She permitted herself a grim smile. On the other hand, I’ve hated cleaning and feeding all those crazies since I got out of prison. At least I sometimes had a little fun, like the day I found those pictures of Jonathan and Lily and gave them to Kathleen. I guess I needed a little excitement in my life.

And now, with money in my pocket, I can find some real excitement, without a bedpan in sight.

29
 

 

F
rom 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?”

30
 

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