Felix was rather short for a man, but lean. His wavy hair was dark blond, and his eyes a warm, honey brown. His attire was distinguished, his mannerisms refined. There was a sophisticated air about him that I supposed all Harvard alumni possessed. I felt small and out of place. I just wanted to crawl under the table and hide away.
Heath called the waiter over and ordered Felix a drink. Then Felix turned to me and smiled. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Mrs. Dalton, though I feel as if I already know you. Heath never let a day pass during our years at Harvard without mentioning your name.”
A hot rush of blood heated my face, and I swung my eyes to Heath. He sat proudly, and graced me with a dazzling smile that made my heart flutter madly. Oh, how good it felt to learn that Heath had thought of me during his college days.
“She is even more beautiful in person,” Felix commented.
The two of them were staring at me, drinking me in, and causing me to feel flushed. I needed to change the subject. “Tell me, Mr. Lowell, what exactly am I here for? Why do you need my testimony?”
He took a quick swig of his brandy, crossed his legs, and leaned into me so all the nosey eavesdroppers wouldn’t hear. “Frankly, Mrs. Dalton, all we have is circumstantial evidence. No one actually witnessed Ned Griffin’s murderer. Nevertheless, we truly believe and are confident, with all the evidence we have acquired, that it was Richard Parker who wanted Ned Griffin dead.”
“How do I factor into all this, Mr. Lowell?” I still didn’t understand; if I wasn’t in New York City at the time of the murder, how I could be of any help to the prosecution.
Felix uncomfortably shifted in his chair, cleared his throat, and leaned in even closer to me. “It is known all over the city about your relationships with Mr. Parker and his counterpart, Ned Griffin.”
“But it ended before the murder,” I softly uttered, instantly losing my composure.
“Lillian, it’s all a part of it. The facts will speak for themselves,” Heath interjected.
“It was jealousy and rage that took Mr. Griffin’s life. Perhaps it wasn’t at the hands of Mr. Parker, but on his orders. You do want justice for Ned, don’t you? After all, you planned to marry him.”
How uncomfortable and ashamed I felt. Heath saw my dismay.
“We’ll get through this; we will,” he said when I gazed helplessly over at him.
“Between you and Mrs. Dalton, I think we can win this. Richard Parker needs to be punished for this brutal crime, and with your help, I will see to it that he is behind bars for the rest of his life.”
Heath brought me back to the suite after a long dinner. He and Felix had a jovial reunion, talking of college days and events. I hadn’t known Heath played college baseball. He appeared somewhat embarrassed when Felix brought it up.
“He was a natural athlete,” Felix exclaimed.
Heath and Felix drank a little more than I thought was necessary. In fact, I was stunned to watch Heath become tipsy and silly.
“Felix is quite a character,” Heath said, leaning himself up against the door to the suite. “And the most intelligent man I have ever known.”
“You two get along well,” I mumbled between yawns.
“He is like a brother to me,” Heath replied reflectively. My heart instantly sank. I missed Ayden so much already. As the rain poured steadily outside, I thought of nothing but Ayden up in the tower of our lighthouse station.
“Hey, now, it’s all going to be all right,” he assured me as soon as he noticed my tears. “We’ll get through this.”
“I fear I will have to relive it all over again.” I bawled onto his shoulder as he comforted me.
“You’re a strong woman, Lillian Dalton. The strongest woman I have ever met. I don’t know if I could have survived all that you had to endure. You are a true survivor,” he said, as he thoughtfully rested his chin atop my head.
“This is so unfair,” I sniffled. Little did he understand it wasn’t only the trial that I believed was unfair.
“I know, I know,” he hushed me, while gently caressing my hair.
“Thank you for being here for me, for being such a good friend,” I said, looking up to him.
“I promise to always be there for you,” he told me and left a lingering kiss on my cheek. “Sleep well,” he added, and leisurely pulled away.
“Good night, Heath.”
I didn’t sleep at all that night. Instead, I lay wide awake, thinking and thinking. Was it true? Did Richard have Ned murdered? I remembered how much animosity they shared, and wallowed in guilt that I had purposely gone to Ned to make Richard jealous. Although Richard had walked out of my life, I knew he would be enraged at my relationship with Ned. But I never really believed Richard could contemplate murder. Yes, he was a controlling, self-infatuated man, but a murderer?
As the night wore on, I thought back to when Richard and I were together. Ned had been beaten after Richard had opened his own production, and Richard was elated. I recalled that being very odd and sick. Was that information something I was going to be required to reveal? Should I want to see Richard thrown in jail for the rest of his life? Of course, if he did in fact murder Ned, he deserved such punishment. Would I get satisfaction out of seeing him grovel and beg for mercy, as I had? Did I carry that much enmity toward Richard?
I had loved him once. But I was only a child and didn’t know any better. It wasn’t true love, like the love I possessed for Ayden and Heath. It was a sick, twisted love, induced by drugs and alcohol. Richard got me hooked on cocaine and used me to gain fortune and success, and when he was finished with me, callously threw me out into the gutter. He lied, stole, and abused me. My life was nearly ruined because of him, and by the light of the first day of Richard Parker’s trial, I was going to make sure he paid for what he had done to me and to a man whom I did indeed care for - Ned Griffin.
* * *
Chapter Twenty-Seven
What I’ve done, what I’ve begun
Before heading to the courthouse for opening statements, Heath and I were told to arrive at the District Attorney’s office early for a briefing. Seymour Stern was the prosecutor, and Felix, his assistant.
“Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Dalton. We have a big day ahead, and I want you in that courtroom every step of the way,” Mr. Stern began. He was a tall, rather plump man in his late forties, with a head of thick gray hair. His spectacles sat upon his wide nose, and behind the rims were small, penetrating black eyes that could rip right into your soul. His presence was intimidating, to say the least.
“I need you to keep your eyes and ears open, taking mental notes. At the end of each session, we will meet back here in my office to go over any revelations you may have come up with during the trial. I want you to listen attentively to each witness, think back, and recall anything out of the ordinary. I want to nail this guy, and I believe you are the one witness who will take him down.” Mr. Stern’s voice was deep and thunderous. I nearly jumped out of my seat.
“We have a barrage of witnesses, and we will bring them on first. I predict you will be on the stand by late next week, give or take,” Felix said.
“Lillian will do whatever it takes,” Heath announced, placing his hands on my quaking shoulders to comfort me.
All the men looked to me for assurance.
“I want nothing more than to see Richard Parker rot in jail.”
“That’s a girl. See, Mr. Stern, I told you she would cooperate,” Felix proclaimed. “Now tell me anything and everything you were involved with, from the day you met Richard Parker until you returned to that lighthouse station where you now you reside. Give me the facts, as best you can recall.”
“Now? You want me to go over everything now?” I groaned bleakly.
“You may keep it brief. Just the facts, Mrs. Dalton,” Mr. Stern said to me, urging me to think back into my recollections.
I looked to Heath, and the panic that must have overtaken my face caused him lean in and whisper to me, “I will l
eave the room and return the minute you are finished.”
“No, Heath, you’re bound to hear it all in court,” I said, resigned.
“This time I won’t hold judgment toward you, I promise.”
With the feeling of butterflies fluttering wildly in my stomach, I walked across the crowded city street, protectively surrounded by the three men, over to the five-story courthouse. A group of newspaper reporters rushed us, taking me aback. “Mrs. Dalton! Mrs. Dalton!” they yelled. “Can you give us a comment?”
“A comment about what?” I called back over my shoulder, but Felix ushered me along and into the lobby of the courthouse.
“Whenever they ask you that, Mrs. Dalton, just reply ‘no comment.’ The press can be merciless.”
“Take your seats inside. We’ll be in shortly,” Mr. Stern said, and hurried down the corridor with Felix and a few other men.
“We sit to the right. That’s the prosecution side,” Heath told me. We walked along with the small flow of people into the courtroom and took our seats in the front row, directly behind the prosecution’s table.
When I was seated comfortably, I curiously scanned the large room. Richard had not been brought in yet, nor was his lawyer there. I was terrified, thinking of Ned’s parents, especially his father. I had never mentioned to anyone how he attempted to rape me.
People began to file in just before nine in the morning, and that’s when I spotted Judith, along with Rachael, Sterling, and Sarah Van Dorn. Heath heard me suck in my breath and turned to see what had caught my attention.
With her head high and her pudgy nose nearly scraping the ceiling, Judith pretended not to notice me and proceeded to her seat on the defense side, while Rachael gave me a quick, humble smile. Sterling followed suit, and timidly, I waved back. Sarah looked radiant, more beautiful and attractive than I remembered. As soon as she saw Heath with me, she hastily pulled a blue silk handkerchief from her purse and dabbed the tears from her eyes. Heath’s eyes lingered on her for only a moment, and then he surprised me by taking hold of my hand.
The attorneys entered from the same doors we’d walked through, then went to their separate designated sides. The room went still as the side door opened, and two police officers escorted Richard to his seat. Heath squeezed my hand tightly and whispered, “Just lean on me anytime you want.”
Richard kept his eyes straight ahead, not turning to acknowledge anyone in the courtroom except for his defense attorney. Richard looked remarkably healthy and as dashing as ever in his brand new suit.
“All rise!” the bailiff ordered, and everyone in the room immediately stood, including Richard and the jury. My trembling had subsided, and I was relieved when the trial got underway.
Felix spoke in a captivating manner, leaving all in the courtroom riveted to their seats. Even the judge appeared impressed with his opening statement.
“Richard Parker may seem like a well-bred, affluent man,” Felix said pointing right at Richard while locking eyes with the twelve straight-faced jury members, “but I am here to tell you, gentleman of the jury, that Mr. Parker is the devil in disguise. I have a mountain of evidence to present to you in the coming weeks, and dozens of witnesses who will testify under oath that Richard Parker is the man who took Ned Griffin’s life, murdered him in cold blood, left him to bleed to death on a cold, dark, desolate New York City street. What man would have a motive to see Mr. Griffin dead? Who could possibly have harbored so much hatred for him? Who had something to gain by having Ned Griffin out of the scene? The man sitting over at the defense table is that man. Richard Parker premeditated his murder, and then brutally shot Ned Griffin in the back, under the cover of darkness. Why would he do such a thing, you are wondering? Because of jealousy, rage, and money! There is no doubt in my mind that after all the evidence is presented to you, you the jury will find, beyond a reasonable doubt, that the defendant is guilty of this heinous crime, and will convict Mr. Richard Parker of murder in the second degree.”
The audience gasped, and the judge immediately slammed down his gavel. “Silence in this courtroom!”
Chills ran through me as I tried to absorb what Felix was saying. Ned was brutally murdered, possibly because of me!
Judith’s expression remained stone cold while she stared over at Richard. He was whispering back and forth with his lawyer and seemed surprisingly relaxed. Rachael and Sterling appeared very concerned, and only once peered over toward me. Sarah, on the other hand, continually turned Heath’s way. She was desperate for him to acknowledge her, to give her some sign that he still cared for her. But Heath refused to acknowledge anyone in that room but me.
Richard’s lawyer was nearly the same age as Seymour Stern. He began his statement with a courteous smile, which flowed into a rather brief, monotonous speech that left everyone straining to hear.
“I’m not here to tell you, the jury, that Mr. Parker didn’t murder Mr. Griffin. I am here to see the prosecution prove beyond a reasonable doubt that he was the one to commit this crime. All the evidence Mr. Lowell will present to you is circumstantial, the witnesses’ testimony based on hearsay. Richard Parker is a fine, upstanding man, with a devoted wife and family. When the time comes for you to deliberate, I assure you, there will be not one shred of proof that my client committed this crime. Therefore, you will set this innocent man free and justice will be served.”
The first witness called to the stand was the police officer, Patrick McNeil, who had come across Ned’s body sometime around one in the morning on June fourth.
“What exactly did you see that night, officer?” Felix asked, once the police officer took his oath and stated his name for the record.
“I was walking my beat when I turned the corner and noticed a man lying face down on the sidewalk, halfway down Forty-first Street in front of the theater.”
“What did you do next, Officer McNeil?”
“I called out, then when he didn’t answer, I blew my whistle and ran over to see what was wrong.” The police officer described the incident in a heavy Irish accent.
“What did you notice first when you approached the man, who you later learned was Ned Griffin?”
“He appeared lifeless and lay in a pool of blood. I checked his pulse and found none. He was cold and unresponsive. I realized he was dead.”
Felix paced back and forth in front of the witness stand while asking the questions. It was almost like watching lawn tennis without the racket and ball.
“Did you see a gun anywhere near the body, Officer McNeil?”
“Objection. There has been no weapon entered into evidence!”
“Sustained,” said the judge.
“Let me rephrase the question. Did you see what it was that caused Mr. Griffin to be lying in a pool of his own blood?” Felix asked. He shifted his amused gaze to the defense table.
“His fatal injury appeared to be that of a gunshot; the shell case was lying near to the body.”
Felix strolled over to a small table that contained a few numbered items and picked up a small, metal object, then walked back over to the witness stand.
“Is this the shell you retrieved from the murder scene?”
Officer McNeil took it into his hand, glanced at it, then said, “I believe so.”
“Where did the bullet enter Mr. Griffin’s body?”
“The back.”
“Notice the chalkboard to the right side of the room. There, a diagram of a body is displayed. If you wouldn’t mind, could you go over to the board and point out exactly where the bullet shell landed?”
The tall, red-haired police officer followed Felix to the board and pointed to the middle of the diagram of the chalk figure.
“Please note for the record, Officer McNeil is pointing to the middle of the back.”
The police officer sat back down in the small wooden chair on the stand and answered a few more questions.
“Did you happen to see anyone near the scene at the time you discovered the body of Ned Griffin?”
“I did.”
The courtroom stirred with muffled commotion. Richard leaned against the table and rested his chin on his knuckles, listening intently.
“Tell the Court, Officer McNeil, who you saw.”
“I saw a man lurking in an alley across the street, and when he heard me call out to put his hands up and step forward, he ran off.”
“That man you saw lurking in the alley near the scene of the crime, can you give the court any kind of description. Was he tall, dark-haired, well dressed?” Felix prodded, raising his brows inquisitively.
“Objection! Prosecution is leading the witness.”
“Sustained,” the judge ruled. He threw Felix a disapproving glare.
“Can you please give us a description (he exaggerated that word) of the person you saw?”
“I could tell it was a man. But it was dark, and I wasn’t able to clearly identify any of his features.”
“But it was a man, is that correct, Officer McNeil?”
“Yes.”
“No further questions,” Felix announced and took his seat next to Mr. Stern.
Richard’s lawyer stood for a cross-examination.
“Officer McNeil, did you happen to see a weapon left at the murder scene?”
“No, I found no weapon.”
“Can you tell me what, if any, evidence you did acquire from the crime scene other than the shell of a bullet?”
“I did notice a book not far from the victim.”
“A book? What kind of book?”
“A Bible.”
“Was this the Bible you found near Ned Griffin’s body?” the defense attorney asked, holding up the small Bible for the officer and everyone in the courtroom to view.
“Yes, it appears to be the same Bible.”
“That is all.”
Court was dismissed for lunch break, and I couldn’t wait to get outside and take in some fresh air. I wasn’t hungry; in fact I had felt nauseated all morning. Heath suggested we take a walk - to clear our minds.
City Hall Park was only a block over, and the day was turning warm as the morning clouds parted, giving way to a bright, late-autumn sun.
Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy Page 87
