The Fallen Angels Book Club

by R. Franklin James

  “She’s delirious and we’re going to give her something to knock her out. She’s slipping back into shock.”

  I looked up pleadingly at Mark. “Av-ry. Not su-cide. C-choline.” I winced in pain as I was lifted into the ambulance.

  “I understand. You didn’t try to kill yourself.” Mark looked at me with a worried expression. “Hollis, it’s going to be okay. Don’t worry. I saw the letter ‘A’ you wrote in the dust. He won’t get away. We’ll find Avery.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  Sound was muffled as if I were under a blanket. I turned my head toward the only source of light. It came from under a door. I tried to speak but my lips were parched. I had no saliva to wet them. Squinting, I tried to make out where I was. A hospital. The back of my hand ached with the long tubing running into a large plastic bag of clear liquid. My chest was connected to another tube of pale yellow fluid and I couldn’t tell if it was running in or out. I shifted slightly and the pain that shot from my lungs immediately brought tears to my eyes.

  The door opened. A young woman entered.

  “Hello, there. I’m Nurse Kelly.” She deftly checked the screen on a black box at the side of my bed. “Glad to see you’re finally awake.”

  “Wh—?”

  “You’re in St. Matthews Hospital. You’ve had a tough time. Luckily, the poison didn’t reach your lungs. Even so, you had enough everywhere else that we went ahead and pumped you clean.”

  She carefully changed the fluid bags, but the slight shifting of the tubes made me cry out.

  “I’m so sorry. I know you’re in pain. As soon as the doctor gets here, she’ll prescribe something for you.”

  “Wata.”

  “Water?” She looked down at the chart at the foot of my bed. “I think we should wait until the doctor comes. She should be here any minute. How about I wet a towel and dampen your lips?”

  I closed my eyes. The moisture from the towel was welcome but sorely inadequate. Mercifully, the doctor came in just as Nurse Kelly finished organizing the blankets.

  “I’m Doctor Garson.”

  I squinted again. Although the voice was deep and gravelly, it belonged to a petite blonde who looked to be in her fifties.

  I licked my lips and tried to speak.

  “No, don’t bother. I know you’re uncomfortable. We’re going to fix that right now.” She gave directions to the nurse for pain medication and to remove my IV. “We’ll also give you some water. Not a lot at first, but four ounces at intervals to start. Then, by this evening, you’ll be feeling better and can go on a bland diet.” She poured water into a paper cup and brought it to my mouth.

  It wasn’t cold, but it was wet. I slowly sipped and swallowed.

  “Thank you.” I laid my head, which felt like a bowling ball, back down on the pillow. “What’s wrong with me?”

  Dr. Garson read my chart. “I have good news, and promising news.”

  “Promising news, first.” My words still came out scratchy and slow, but at least they came.

  She grinned. “Ah, a pessimist at heart? We won’t know for several days exactly how much damage was done to your respiratory system, but the fact that you and I are talking is a very good sign.”

  “What happened?”

  She sat on edge of my bed. “You were in pretty bad shape. The drug you took was what we call a cocktail mixture. The razor cuts on your wrists were deep, but I’ve seen a lot worse.”

  My gaze went to the tubing into my arm.

  She followed my eyes. “We’ll remove that soon.”

  “I didn’t take it on my own. There was—”

  She patted my arm. “We know. You were given an exotic poison that strikes the nervous system but hides out in your circulatory system until it’s too late, because all medical eyes are on your brain waves. You were lucky you got in here when you did with the information we needed to find the antidote.”

  I frowned, trying to remember how I got there. Only vague images appeared in my memory bank. No single one emerged as a winner.

  “How did I get here?”

  “The paramedics got a call from a man.” She looked down at my chart. “A Mark Haddan. He’s been here every day. Haddan usually shows up right after lunch. In fact, I think he was coming out of the elevator when I came to see you.”

  “Every day? How long have I been here?”

  She put her hand on my shoulder. “You came in on Thursday. Today is Sunday.”

  “Sunday.”

  “I know it’s scary to lose track of time. Be glad you weren’t conscious. You wouldn’t have been very comfortable.” Doctor Garson hesitated. “Ms. Morgan, the police have been here, too. I was told to call them once you regained consciousness.”

  The word “police” acted as an instant haze remover. A light came on in my head like a curtain lifting. I remembered everything up until my arrival at the hospital. “How long do I have to stay here?”

  “Oh, you’re past the worst of it. I think one, maybe two more days of monitoring your vitals should be enough. Is there someone at home who can be with you?”

  “No, I live alone.”

  “Then it will be at least two days for sure.” Garson patted me one more time and, after promising to see me the next afternoon, left me in the reliable hands of Nurse Kelly.

  I fell in and out of sleep. The hospital nurses’ comings and goings kept me in a mild world of wooziness. The next morning, after breakfast, my nurse checked my temperature.

  “Are you ready for visitors? They’ve been waiting.”

  “Yes, who—”

  Marla pushed past the nurse with Lily holding on tight to the rail of her walker.

  “Hi, sweetie, we couldn’t wait to see you. Lily and I have a taxi waiting so we can’t stay long. He’s Opal’s nephew’s friend; she got him to bring us here. I don’t want to abuse his patience.”

  Lily came along the other side of the bed and squeezed my hand. Her eyes were teary.

  There had never been two faces I was more pleased to see.

  “Thank you both for coming to visit me. I’ll be back to see you soon.” I returned the squeeze of Lily’s hand.

  Lily licked her lips. “I’m holding all my mail for you to open.”

  I nodded with understanding.

  “Let’s go, Lily.” Marla patted me on the shoulder. She couldn’t hide the tears brimming in her eyes. She swiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand and gave me a forced smile. “Oh, and don’t forget the doughnuts.”

  I laughed. “I won’t.”

  They walked out, leaning on each other.

  I picked up a book I’d left lying open on my tray.

  Mark entered with a rush of air, followed by Rena carrying a coleus plant in a colorful ceramic pot.

  “How are you? Are you going to be okay?” He started to give me a kiss on the forehead and then backed off, as if remembering we didn’t have that kind of relationship.

  “It’s all right, Mark. Actually, I could use a friendly kiss about now.” I smiled. He leaned over awkwardly and gave me a modest peck. “Rena, it was so considerate of you to come and see me. Thank you for the plant.”

  Rena nodded sheepishly and went about moving things around to make space on the little tray table by the bed. “Mark and I have been really worried about you. What does your doctor say?”

  I recounted the doctor’s evaluation.

  “A drug,” Mark said. “Is that like any of your books?”

  I looked at him appreciatively. “It was a novel we were getting ready to read. We hadn’t read about any murders by drugs lately. He just wanted me incapacitated so he could do my wrists. Besides, I don’t think Avery had much time to plan. He made it up as he went along.”

  Mark shook his head. “Avery. I just can’t believe it.”

  I closed my eyes then opened them.

  Mark gave me a penetrating look.

  Could he see my other pain … the pain of being betrayed by Avery?

  I shifted t
o find a more comfortable position, but I only succeeded in pulling on the needle that ran to the back of my hand. I winced. “I’m starting to get tired. I think I need to catch a little sleep.” I smiled. “Thank you both for visiting. I won’t forget it.”

  “Of course you’re tired,” Rena said. “This is your first full day awake. We’ll check on you later.”

  “Mark, wait,” I called.

  Rena waved and walked out. Mark stood next to my bed. “Yes?”

  I took his hand. “Thank you for saving my life.” I ignored his obvious discomfort. “I don’t remember much, but I do remember you finding me. Thank you.”

  “You’re very welcome.” His eyes took on an impish glint. “When you’re back on your feet, maybe you could help me with a research project my new firm gave me.”

  “Forget about it.” I smiled. “No, I’m teasing. Congratulations.” We both laughed until I started to cough. He gave me a tentative hug and a wave goodbye.

  I didn’t say anything about the tears I felt, or the tears I saw.

  I relished the silence. I needed some time alone to rewire my psyche. Avery was gone and I was alive. It was over. I’d be able to go on with my life. The only surprise was how much I had cared for my intended killer. He was, after all, the one who had given me my second chance.

  I didn’t realize I had dozed off again until Nurse Kelly came in to take my temperature. “How are you feeling? You hardly ate anything earlier.”

  “Not real hungry yet, but I think I’m going to live.”

  “Of course you are. Are you up to a visit from the police? They’re outside.”

  “Do I have a choice?”

  She just smiled. I looked down at my gown to make sure all would not be revealed. I was no longer attached to the metal guardian holding my tubes off to the side of my bed.

  “Ms. Morgan, that was a close call.” Detective Faber strode in with Detective Lincoln not far behind. Their combined bulk filled my little visiting space.

  “Detectives. A bit too close, but they tell me I’ll soon be good as new.”

  Lincoln sat under the TV mounted on the wall. “We have an APB out on Mitchell. We searched his home and found evidence pointing to another condo he has in the Maldives. We’re pretty sure he’s on his way there. The State Department is on the lookout for him.”

  I shifted in the bed to try and sit up. “It’s a townhome. It’s somewhere near the capital.”

  Detective Faber nodded. “We know.”

  “What’s the capital of the Maldives?” Detective Lincoln took notes.

  “Malé. Before you ask, no, I’ve never been there. Once, I heard him making reservations at one of the resorts.”

  Detective Faber gave me a worried smile.

  “They should have no trouble finding him. It’s a small island.”

  “The trouble won’t be in finding him. The sticky point is the U.S. and the Maldives don’t have an automatic extradition agreement. It may take some time to get him back.”

  Avery would have counted on that.

  “Ms. Morgan, can you tell us exactly what happened from the time you left your office until you woke up here?”

  And so I told them my story. It already seemed like I was speaking about an event that had happened weeks ago, rather than a few days. Both detectives took notes.

  “I vaguely remember Mark talking to me, but I really didn’t realize what had happened until I woke up yesterday morning.”

  “He saved your life.”

  Detective Lincoln walked over to the window. “Let me see if I have this straight. Avery Mitchell was being blackmailed by his partner in crime, Rory Norris. He got tired of paying and killed him. Mitchell thought Abby Caldwell could identify him, so he killed her, too. Finally, when he thought you’d put all the pieces together, he had to get rid of you.”

  I nodded. “Yes, that’s what he said.”

  Detective Faber tapped his notepad against his chin. “So, how did the murders from your club’s book selections play into everything?”

  I pushed the button to crank my bed up to a full sitting position. “I’ve thought about this a lot. We were easy targets. Abby and Richard didn’t know Rory was their blackmailer, but Avery knew Rory was blackmailing him. Avery hired Rory to fake appraisals on his cases. He then called Bill Lynley in to write up false insurance policies. Between the three of them, the den of thieves was complete.”

  Pausing, I reached for some water. Detective Faber met me halfway with a glass.

  “Somehow, Avery found out I was in the same book club as Rory. Knowing Rory, he never could keep his mouth shut. Once Rory knew about Bill and me, it balanced what Bill had on him about the blackmail. Rory’s need for cash made him desperate enough to blackmail his fellow club members. He was going to leave the States.” My voice started to quaver. “Abby didn’t have to die. You were right. I was the only common variable between Rory, Abby and Bill. Avery was bright and creative. I read club books on my breaks at work and sometimes I left the book overnight. Avery ‘borrowed’ the book or went out and got his own copy. Copying the killings deflected suspicion from him and onto a bunch of ex-felons, a no-brainer. He killed Bill because he knew too much.”

  My throat choked up. I couldn’t say anymore. “Please, I’m tired now.”

  Detective Lincoln crossed over to stand next to Faber at the foot of my bed. “That’s some story. Everything pretty much checks out, except for one minor fact.”

  He really knew how to get on my last nerve. Realizing that he wouldn’t leave until he made his point, I said, “That minor fact would be?”

  “Avery Mitchell didn’t kill Bill Lynley.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Once I got my head around the fact Avery hadn’t killed Bill, I could see that he had a legitimate alibi; I tried to conjure up other possible murderers, without success. Still, no matter who had killed Bill, the Fallen Angel murders seemed to be over.

  Avery, in his fervor to cover up his misdeeds, had left two loose ends. Rory’s ledger was still missing and I was still alive. Even so, I also couldn’t forget that, according to Bill, there might be someone out there who thought I had what they wanted.

  After four days in the hospital and a week at home, it was time to rejoin the world. Clay had gotten a ten-day continuance for my hearing, which was practically a miracle. Fortunately, the court clerk had read of my near-death experience in the newspaper and, with Bill’s murder, it didn’t require much effort for Clay to plead extenuating circumstances. My hearing date was set for the following week.

  Collecting my visitor’s badge from the security guard at the entrance, I swore this would be the last time I went to see Detective Faber. He probably wouldn’t need to see me after this visit anyway.

  “So, Ms. Morgan. It’s good to see you up and about. Should you be out so soon?”

  We were back to meeting in his office. I was pleased my innocence was no longer in question.

  “I’m still taking it easy, but I had to see you about the ledger.”

  “What ledger?” Detective Faber didn’t fool me.

  “Yes, Detective Faber, the ledger. The ledger you’re going to need to nail Avery to the wall, once you get your hands on him. The ledger that might lead you to Bill’s killer.”

  “What do you know about a ledger?”

  “Let’s not go down that road. Not ‘a’ ledger. ‘The’ ledger. The ledger Rory used to keep the accounting of his blackmail activities. The ledger that could provide the motive for the three murders.”

  “Where did you hear about a ledger?”

  “Richard Kleh, sucking on his tooth, alluded to one early on. Then I heard about it again from Bill. Rory was a compulsive record keeper. He had records for everything.”

  “In our searches, we’ve not uncovered a ledger or anything like one. Where do you think it is now?”

  “I think Bill had it. Do you remember my telling you how Bill answered the phone when I called Rory’s mother? I think he wa
s looking for it then. He needed to get leverage over his other partners in crime. The ledger was critical.”

  Detective Faber picked up a sizable file from the side of his desk. “Unfortunately, other than a few clothes, a box of books we compared to the booklist you gave us, and some childhood mementos, we found nothing at Rollins’ mother’s home or in the apartment where your ex-husband was killed.”

  “Detective, you know more than you’re telling me. Don’t you think I’ve earned a bit of information?”

  “What is it you want to know?”

  “You know from Bill’s letter he used another name. Have you found out the name he was going to be using?”

  “Yes. Lawrence Keller. We also tracked down, with the help of the FBI, a package of false identification documents he mailed to himself to start his new life. The ledger wasn’t in that package.”

  “So, you did know about the ledger?”

  “We figured there had to be something to keep track of payments. From Rollins’ phone records, we’ve identified several of his contacts who’ve turned out to be victims. Don’t worry, though. Mr. Mitchell will be making the trip back to the States within the week. Maldives is going to give him up. Conviction would be a slam dunk if we had that ledger. Even without it, Mr. Mitchell is in big trouble. He won’t be pleading his way out of this one.”

  I became tired, which only fed my frustration. “You don’t think he can get off?”

  “It’s not a sure thing. We’ve got him on your attempted murder, but to get him on the Rollins and Caldwell killings, well, I won’t kid you, I’d feel a lot better if I could get my hands on that ledger.”

  My legal background agreed with him.

  Detective Faber looked up at the clock. “Is there anything else?”

  “Yes. Do you have any leads on who killed Bill?”

  “The fact that we’re not meeting in the interview room should tell you we don’t think you did it.” He opened up a file. “Mr. Lynley had a very unsavory partner, a guy named Keith Newton. Do you know him?”

  I shook my head. “Bill mentioned a ‘Newton’ when he contacted me, but it was nothing more than a mention.”