Joseph ignored her. “Mrs. Brill—I mean, Lori—you must be famished. Permit me to take you to Wiltons for lunch. It is one of our upscale establishments, having been around since 1792."
Lori, exhausted and still somewhat in shock, really didn't want to go to a public place, but she wasn’t going to disappoint her granddaughter and her charming boyfriend.
They took a rather scenic route through London, passing St. James Park and making their way around Buckingham Palace and onto Piccadilly, until they reached Wiltons. Once settled inside, Lori tried to just order coffee, but it didn't work.
"Mrs. Brill, you must try one of their fish specialties. This is one of my family's favorite lunch places," Joseph said.
The waitress stood politely waiting for her order, so Lori pointed to a shrimp special and nodded yes. She was sorry she had agreed to go out to eat. When the orders came she found that the food stuck in her throat; although she felt slightly nauseated, she didn’t complain. Even in crisis her inclination to please others took over.
Halfway through lunch, Cate looked at Lori's plate with the barely touched shrimp and then up to her grandmother’s pale face and pursed lips. She reached over, patted her grandmother’s hand, and then turned to Joseph.
“Let’s get the check. This was a bad idea.”
Cate and Lori exited and made their way to a waiting cab while Joseph got into his car and went to his office to take care of some things.
Lori sat with Cate in the back of the taxi on the plush leather seats, nervously tapping a hand on her purse, while trying to block out the reoccurring image of Josh’s bloody dead body. She tried to concentrate on the scenery out her window, but nothing helped. Her body started to shake nervously. Cate wrapped her coat around Lori, believing her grandmother was cold. The thought comforted Lori and she calmed down some.
It was somewhere around four in the afternoon when they pulled up to Cate and Joseph’s flat, located in a quaint section of Mayfair just west of Buckingham Palace.
After Cate’s perfunctory tour of the apartment—showing Lori the kitchen, the living room, and the upstairs guest room with the adjoining bath she would be occupying for the duration of her stay—Lori excused herself, went straight to her bedroom, and plopped under the covers, never getting up to wash her face or brush her teeth. She immediately fell asleep, thanks to some sleeping pills Cate had in her medicine chest, and she didn’t wake until around eleven the next morning when she heard Cate’s cat meowing and scratching at her closed door. She ate little and spent most of the day in bed, refusing to talk to anyone, existing on a little coffee and toast.
***
When Geoffrey Holmes was called in on the Wheeler case, he had pictured dealing with the murder of a scoundrel who had cheated hundreds of people out of their life savings. He hadn’t planned on someone like Lori Brill being involved. He expected to be interviewing a prostitute or, at the very least, the type of trophy girlfriend regularly seen hanging from the arms of high rollers like Wheeler, not a well-to-do American senior citizen. These thoughts scrambled through his mind as he drove home from the police station.
He lived in a red brick row house, not far from the station in a neighborhood of policemen. He walked up three stairs, carefully avoiding the pot of geraniums on the top step. Upon entering his flat, two senior cats— one a brown tabby, the other an orange mix-breed with a triangular cut on his right ear—met him in the hallway. Calling them by name—Patty and Casey—he bent down and petted his two companions before he filled their food bowls. He opened the fridge and closed it again, thinking, I really should go shopping. He reached into a cabinet and removed a can of lentil soup and a bag of crackers. He sat down at his round wooden kitchen table as his soup heated in a pan on the stove, his computer and briefcase full of papers before him.
Geoffrey’s gaze moved across the kitchen to the adjacent living room area and rested upon the photograph of his deceased wife, which sat framed in gold atop the gray stone mantelpiece.
My love, life has been lonely since you've gone.
Chapter 6
Early on the third day, Cate burst into Lori’s bedroom holding a little black and white tabby cat who quickly jumped out of Cate’s arms and spread out on the bed in an effort to re-claim possession of it.
“Scotland Yard called. They want you in for some more questions. Joseph will go with you.” Cate sat down near the cat and lovingly stroked her back. ”Do you need help dressing, Gram?”
“No, honey.”
On her way down the stairs, Cate called, “Hurry up, Gram. I’m making blueberry pancakes, just like you used to make for me!”
Lori sat on the bed and looked around the room where she had spent the last two days. It was a comfortable, cozy bedroom, decorated with Laura Ashley pink and green floral-patterned curtains and matching bedspread. She breathed in the scent of lilies, asters, and marigolds that rested in the cut-glass vase sitting atop a table by a nearby window. A picture of the room at the Palace with Josh’s dead body shot through her mind, and her pulse began racing immediately.
Tigger, who had rubbed her face against Lori’s arm in a friendly gesture, was adept at detecting change and tension and suddenly jumped down and ran under the bed.
Lori tried hard to erase the image of Josh as she entered the bathroom. The sight of the shower didn’t help. She decided to take a bath instead. Cate had laid out new toiletries, as hers were missing. Her granddaughter had also purchased panties and a top for her to wear. They fit a little big, but she was grateful to have them.
After her bath, Lori dressed and even tried to look human again. She dabbed at her face with some make-up base, a red-orange lipstick, and tried to blow-dry her hair. Her arms felt heavy, though, so she left her short silver hair to dry on its own. All her efforts to stay thin, healthy, vital, and active these last few years seemed for naught. Had Cate not been here, she would have never left the bed. She thought back thirty years to when her seventeen-year-old daughter died, and she quickly became despondent. Avoiding the full-length mirror by the door, she moved out of the bedroom, almost tripping on the cat that quickly scampered back under the bed.
She joined Cate in the kitchen, sitting on one of the modern chairs that, to Lori, did not denote warmth and hominess, but rather, sterility and coldness. Lori was traditional, and the stainless steel kitchen and its modern furniture and digital appliances felt unfamiliar and unwelcoming to her. The high-backed chair with its curved seat was clever but uncomfortable. She was surprised to see so many electronics in a kitchen. There was a computer, a new thin-screen television, and several digital gadgets. Cate pushed buttons, and doors opened and shut. Recipes and lists of groceries to be purchased appeared on a computer screen attached to the refrigerator door while Cate gave verbal orders to the devices. The only clock present was the clock on the computer. Lori had been in the flat for two days, but since she’d spent most of her time in bed, she had not noticed any of this before. She felt it was something straight out of a science fiction novel.
While Lori cut into her three large blueberry pancakes, she noticed Cate's breakfast consisted of a bowl of oats, nuts, and raisins, along with a large glass of blended juice. No wonder Cate was thin and energetic.
Cate poured a cup of coffee for Lori and set it down next to The London Times. “I still like the feel of paper, though Joseph reads everything on his iPad or computer or mobile."
Holding her cup in hand, Lori stared at the paper. The headlines read: Wealthy U.S. Real Estate Mogul on the Lam Found Murdered in London’s Palace Hotel.
“Did you know he was rich and famous?” Cate asked as she carefully watched her grandmother’s reaction to the news. She was glad to see Gram finally out of bed, and she wasn’t sure how far to go into Josh’s murder.
“Not really. I knew he was successful. Charm and glory had always been his, but I guess as he aged he felt the need for extreme wealth and the power it brought. His father died when he was in Law School, leaving the family penniless, which
may have contributed to his actions. Actually, he was always good at coming out on top at whatever he did, getting away with murder while the rest of us got caught for every little infraction."
"Not this time!" Cate answered before Lori realized what she had just said about Josh.
They starred at each other for a few seconds. Then Lori reached for the newspaper and began reading the article. Cate picked up a bottle of syrup with one hand and a cell phone with the other and gave them to Lori.
“Eat first. Your cell phone’s been ringing constantly. I didn’t answer any of the calls, but I did talk to Mom and Dad. Dad said he would rearrange his schedule and come out, but I told him I was taking care of you."
Lori swallowed hard as she looked Cate's way. Cate and her deceased daughter Julie were getting mixed up in her mind. She turned away, picked up the mobile phone, and checked for numbers and messages. She had received calls from three friends in Arizona, several unknown calls, a call from her son Barry (Cate’s dad), and another, more frantic phone call from her good friend Rain.
Rain had left messages. The first one read: “Boy, do I have news for you about an old friend.”
Lori realized Rain must have sent that message before the news of Josh’s death. Her second one made it clear that she’d learned of his death and was shocked to hear he had been killed in London.
Out of the many calls Lori received, she only returned three: one to Scotland Yard, to affirm that she and her solicitor would be back for another questioning; one to her son, to assure him she was alright; and one to her good friend Rain.
“Yes, Rain, I know Josh was murdered. I was the woman he was with at the Palace."
There was a gasp on the other end of the phone before Rain asked, “What? When? Where? Oh, my God. Now I understand why some investigator was in our Arizona retirement community asking about you."
"Was he from the newspapers?"
"I don't know. He asked a lot of questions about you and Josh. I played dumb. He was Chinese."
"Chinese?" Lori asked, bewildered.
Chapter 7
Torrents of raindrops pelted against the foggy windowpane of the car, making travel difficult as Lori, Cate, and Joseph drove to the station. Joseph turned the windshield wipers up to full force. The constant tapping noise produced the only sound in the car; each of the three passengers was silently assessing the situation.
After starring out the window for a few moments, Lori realized how much she longed for her home in Arizona where there were three hundred and sixty days of sunshine and quiet. She vowed to never again complain about being bored.
Joseph let Lori and Cate out in front of the station while he parked the car. They entered thru the heavy double doors and walked up to the desk, Lori was asked to sign several papers, but she waited for Joseph's arrival and approval before doing so. They were then led into a large windowless conference room.
This time when Lori sat at a wooden table across from Inspector Holmes, they were not alone. Joseph represented Lori, Holmes represented the London Police Department, and a Mr. Jordan Gould from the FBI represented the United States’ interest in Josh Wheeler.
Jordan, who stood about five feet nine inches, was much younger than Holmes, very American in speech and dress, and wore black pants and an open-neck blue polo shirt. Jordan’s brown hair was cut short, and he was clean-shaven, per the FBI rules on appearance. He was a thin man with an abundance of nervous energy, which did not allow him to stay seated. He paced back and forth with his hands behind his back. He had a habit of stopping and staring intensely into Lori’s eyes while waiting for an answer to a question.
This maneuver made Lori very uncomfortable, leaving her with the sensation of an executioner measuring her for the gallows. Her body seem to shrink down into the chair.
Cate sat in the back of the room away from the conference table; biting her nails and squirming on the hard wooden chair as she listened to the men harass her grandmother.
Inspector Holmes, dressed in the English throwback uniform of a dress shirt, tweed jacket, and brown trousers, arose from his chair and walked in front of Jordan and over to Lori, where he leaned down and smiled gently at her. Instinctively, he used his calm, soft-spoken voice.
“Mrs. Brill, I know this is not easy for you, but we really need your assistance in sorting out what happened. Will you explain to us how you ended up in Mister Wheeler’s room the night he was murdered?”
Jordan turned away in anger, roughly shoving his hands deep into his trouser pockets. He realized he’d just been told to lay off. His training in interrogation made this type of coddling a suspect hard for him to deal with.
Lori smiled at Geoffrey Holmes and unfolded her story of how she had met Josh at the airport in Chicago and how they had renewed an old friendship.
Holmes rubbed his chin while slowly making his way around the room before sitting back down.
“I’m going to ask you to think back over a long stretch now. Are you certain you have had no contact, no phone calls, no letter, text, or perhaps an e-mail with Mister Wheeler in nearly twenty-years?”
“I’ve had no contact with him until three days ago at the airport.”
“Can you remember what type of contact you had with him last? Was it business? Pleasure, perhaps?”
Joseph spoke up before Lori could answer. “My client has already told you there was no contact in all that time. I don’t think what happened that long ago is relative today.”
Lori smiled. “That’s okay, Joseph. I will be happy to answer that question. It was neither business nor pleasure. Josh Wheeler attended my seventeen-year-old daughter’s funeral on September 11, 1991, and that was the last time I saw him until three days ago.”
Lori looked down, her mouth twisted awkwardly in a half-smile while tears welled up in her eyes.
Both Holmes and Gould were at a loss for words.
Finally, Holmes said, “You were right, Mr. Lunt. Let’s concentrate on the present. We don’t want to intrude on hurtful memories.”
Lori was in-between a sob and a laugh as she reached for the tissue box atop the wooden desk. There go the British again, with their clipped responses to emotion, she thought.
Inspector Holmes continued. “Did Mister Wheeler speak with anyone personally or on his mobile while you were with him?"
Before answering, Lori stopped and gazed around the room. “What’s making that clicking noise?”
Geoffrey answered, “A device is recording your voice and typing it into the computer.”
Lori shook her head and looked behind her at the computer and recorder. “Machines can do everything now. No need for us humans anymore.”
Gould stopped pacing and stared down at Lori. “Mrs. Brill, could you just answer the questions?”
Lori ignored Gould and turned to Geoffrey. “Could you please repeat the question?”
After Geoffrey repeated the question, Lori answered, “He was very outgoing and friendly. He talked to the porters, the waiters, the cab driver. He used the hotel phone to order breakfast, and he did receive one call on his mobile in the morning."
Jordan asked , "Do you remember the conversation on that one call?" Jordan had traced Wheeler's calls, and had also found only one call. It was from the San Francisco Airport, and only lasted about two minutes.
Lori answered, "All I heard him say was, ’I’ll be delayed by a day.’ I went into the loo and missed the rest of the conversation."
Geoffrey continued with the questions. “Did you ever feel like someone was watching or following the two of you?”
Lori stopped to think about it. “When we had dinner at the Savoy Grill, I went to the restroom and had a strange conversation with a woman who was drying her hands under a hand dryer. She said the gentleman I was with looked like a famous actor. Then she asked his name.”
“What did she look like?”
“I can’t remember, maybe around forty with dark hair, probably American.” Lori remembered how romantic
the evening had been, how elegant the Savoy Grill was with its wood paneling and gold gilded ceiling, the delicious roast beef and Yorkshire pudding. She had basked in the glow of Josh’s undivided attention, and it was a lovely surprise to receive the bottle of Chanel No. 5 he bought her.
She recalled the look in his eyes when he held her hand across the table and told her, “Lori, you were my first love, and my true love.” She felt like all her dreams had finally come true, like Cinderella being swept off her feet by Prince Charming. He had, to say the least, a very strong influence on her emotions.
“Mrs. Brill, are you absolutely sure you never saw or heard anyone in your room before the murder or after you came out of the bathroom? Possibly you heard a voice or noticed a shadow of someone running, a cracking or popping noise?"
Lori looked up, startled, as she was jarred back to reality. “No, as I told you before, I was taking a shower. I thought the noise I heard came from the bellman bringing breakfast, or from the television. We had ordered room service, and Josh had unlocked the door before he crawled back into bed. That’s when I headed into the bathroom to take a shower. We…were going to have breakfast in bed that morning…”
“How very romantic,” Jordan said sarcastically.
“You never heard a shot? Or any indication of a struggle or argument? Any voices coming from the room?" Holmes asked.
“No, nothing that sounded like a shot. My head was under the water, I suppose.”
Jordan Gould took over as Geoffrey Holmes refilled Lori’s coffee cup. “They probably had a silencer. No one else in the hotel testified to hearing a shot. And, as you are aware, the use of a silencer denotes premeditation.” Gould continued pacing around the room.
Holmes turned to Lori. “Were you aware that Wheeler was on the run? Did he indicate to you that he was in any trouble?”
“On the run? No, not at all,” she replied, shaking her head.
“She didn’t need to hear it from him, Holmes,” Jordan Gould said sharply. “It was all over the news.” He turned to Lori. “Don’t you listen to the news or read the newspapers or check the internet?"
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