Dying for Mercy

by Mary Jane Clark

  Blue and white balloons decorated the fences surrounding the tennis courts while people watched the matches being played. Even the weakest serves and the shortest volleys elicited rousing cheers as the spectators rooted enthusiastically for the challenged yet determined athletes.

  Eliza smiled, shook hands, and made conversation. As she walked through the crowd, accompanied by the security guard, she was aware of the stares and whispers that followed her. Most people came right out and asked her how she was and told her how worried and upset they were about her accident and all the other dreadful things that had been happening.

  An attractive yet frantic-looking woman approached. “I’m Susannah Lansing,” she said, extending her hand. “And I want to thank you so much for coming today, especially after what you’ve just been through.”

  “I’m glad I was able to make it,” said Eliza. “You’re the person who organized all this, aren’t you?”

  “Yes,” said Susannah. “I’m flattered you knew that.”

  “Valentina told me,” said Eliza. “She spoke quite highly of you.”

  “She did?” Susannah asked with surprise.

  “Yes.” Eliza nodded and gestured toward the tennis courts. “And I can see why.”

  “You have no idea how much I appreciate hearing that,” said Susannah.

  The cell phone she was carrying in the pocket of her jacket vibrated. It was Annabelle.

  “What did you get at the press conference?” asked Eliza.

  “Not that much,” said Annabelle. “They think Aurelia Patterson was killed with a hammer; besides that, the chief didn’t really divulge anything we hadn’t already suspected. Although when I asked him if there was anything particularly strange at Aurelia Patterson’s murder scene, he wouldn’t comment. But I got the distinct impression that he was holding back on something.”

  “He doesn’t know that Aurelia told us about the staging of Zack Underwood’s body,” said Eliza.

  “Right,” said Annabelle. “And neither does CBS, ABC, NBC, or any of the others, as far as I can tell. B.J. and I have to put together a piece on all this for the show tonight. A satellite truck is on its way so we can feed from here.”

  “Where are you now?” asked Eliza.

  “At the gate. The guard won’t let us back in again.”

  “Put him on the phone,” said Eliza. “And when he lets you in, ask him how to get to the tennis house. I’ll be waiting.”

  CHAPTER 105

  Cleo Vitalli finished her tennis game, a broad grin on her face, and applauded along with the spectators who clapped for her. Her big blue eyes searched from behind thick glasses, eager to find her father in the crowd and bask in his approval. But she couldn’t see him anywhere.

  One of the policemen who worked for her dad had picked her up at home and driven her to the game. He’d said her father would be there in time to see her play and that he would take her home afterward. Not finding her father, Cleo was confused.

  “Hey, Cleo. Nice game.”

  Cleo turned in the direction of the voice. She smiled when she saw Rusty. When they were little, she and Rusty had played together, but when they got bigger, Rusty had other things to do and couldn’t play with her anymore. She still liked him. She missed him and wished she saw him more.

  “Hi, Rusty,” she said shyly.

  “You did a great job out there, Cleo.”

  “Thank you.” She cast her eyes downward.

  “Where’s your father?” asked Russell.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “He’s supposed to be here.”

  “Let’s see if we can find him.” Russell held out his hand, and Cleo eagerly took it.

  CHAPTER 106

  Eliza was tired, sore, and having a hard time keeping a pleasant smile on her face. She couldn’t wait for Annabelle and B.J. to arrive so they could take her back to the hospital to be with Mack. When yet two more people approached her, it was all she could do to stop herself from running away.

  “Hello, Ms. Blake, my name is Colleen D’Alessandro, and this is my husband, Hank.”

  Eliza shook their hands.

  “It’s so good of you to come today,” said Colleen.

  “Especially after what happened to you last night,” said Hank.

  Eliza nodded, too exhausted to talk.

  “We almost didn’t come today ourselves,” said Colleen. “We were so upset by what happened yesterday.”

  “We were the ones who found Aurelia Patterson’s body,” said Hank.

  Eliza felt a surge of energy.

  “We were out for our walk, and that poor border collie was barking and barking. I knew he was trying to tell us something,” said Colleen.

  “I followed the dog into the woods, and there she was, her head beaten in, lying on the ground.” Hank shuddered. “It was awful.”

  “Tell her about the dice, Hank.”

  “Yeah, I can’t figure this,” said Hank. “The woman had a pair of dice in her hand, like she was ready to roll ’em. What do you think that was all about?”

  CHAPTER 107

  Chief Vitalli got out of the police vehicle and headed for the tennis courts. He looked for his daughter but didn’t see her. Checking with one of the volunteers, he learned that Cleo had finished her game half an hour earlier.

  He felt downhearted at the thought that he not only missed seeing Cleo play but hadn’t been there to greet her and celebrate when she walked off the court. Cleo didn’t get all that many opportunities to shine. He didn’t get all that many opportunities to rejoice.

  Damn that news conference.

  As he searched the area for his daughter, Clay was stopped by residents wanting to question him about what was going on. He put them off, saying that commenting could jeopardize the ongoing investigation. Most of them seemed satisfied with his response; some of them were angry.

  Maybe Cleo went into the tennis house.

  Clay went inside to look for his daughter. She wasn’t in the trophy room or the exercise room. She wasn’t on the real tennis court. As he went deeper down the hallway, Clay began calling out her name.

  Where is she?

  When he reached the back of the building, Clay started to panic. What if Cleo had wandered away? What if someone had lured her to go off with him? She was so trusting. No matter how many times she’d been taught otherwise, Clay continued to suspect that anyone could talk Cleo into doing anything, because she wanted to please. For Clay, it was a source of continuing anxiety and the reason for many sleepless nights.

  He approached the door to the racket court where he and Fitzroy and Peter had met a few nights before, the dark, closed-in space with thick concrete walls and no windows. A perfect place to do something you didn’t want anyone else to see.

  Trying not to make any noise as he opened the door, Clay saw Cleo standing on the cement floor—and Russell Wheelock close beside her.

  CHAPTER 108

  As soon as she saw the car drive up, Eliza hurried to meet it.

  “Guess what I just heard,” she said as she got into the backseat. Without waiting for Annabelle or B.J. to answer, Eliza continued. “Aurelia Patterson was found with dice clasped in her hand.”

  “Dice?” asked B.J. as he maneuvered the car out of the parking area, with the security vehicle close behind. “As in gambling?”

  “Yeah, or game playing,” said Eliza. “In either case, I doubt that Aurelia was carrying a pair of dice while she was walking her dog.”

  “So Zack was strangled with some sort of leather strap and then positioned on his throne with a reed scepter,” mused Annabelle. “And Aurelia was hammered to death and then dice were put in her hand?”

  “What are we supposed to make out of that?” asked B.J.

  “The only connections I see are, one, both victims knew each other and worked together and, two, the murderer is staging his crime scenes.”

  The three of them were quiet as they considered what they knew so far.

  “Think w
e should include this in tonight’s piece?” asked Annabelle, finally breaking the silence.

  “No doubt about it, we should,” said Eliza. “The police didn’t ask that we refrain from reporting it. They didn’t even give us this information. We uncovered it ourselves, from eyewitnesses, and we have every reason to report it. It’s news.”

  CHAPTER 109

  Clay reached out and grabbed Russell by the collar of his shirt.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing? If you touched her, I swear to God, Rusty, I’m gonna make you wish you’d never been born.”

  Russell’s face was beet red. “Calm down, Clay. Calm down. It’s not what you think.”

  “What is it, then?”

  “Cleo and I came in here to practice. Didn’t we, Cleo?”

  Clay looked at his daughter. Her blue eyes were open wide. Her cheeks were flushed. Her sweat suit was rumpled.

  “We were practicing hitting with the rackets,” Russell continued. “Weren’t we, Cleo?”

  Cleo said nothing, her mouth agape.

  “See, Clay? The rackets and the balls are right there.” Russell pointed to the sports equipment. “Cleo asked me if I would play with her.”

  “Did you, Cleo?” asked Clay.

  Her eyes filled with tears at the angry tone of her father’s voice. Her lips quivered, and she started to cry.

  Clay knew better than to push his daughter any further. Continuing to confront Russell in front of Cleo would be a big mistake, only making her inconsolable.

  He hadn’t actually seen Russell touching Cleo, but Clay worried he might have.

  There’ll be another time and place to take care of Russell.

  As he escorted his daughter out of the tennis house, Chief Clay Vitalli did wish that Russell Wheelock had never been born. The young man’s existence had wreaked havoc with his life and so many others.

  CHAPTER 110

  While we’re in here, we really should get some shots of the pertinent locations,” said B.J. “Like exteriors of Pentimento, of Aurelia Patterson’s house, of your wrecked car, Eliza.”

  Annabelle agreed. “And let’s get shots of that old accident site on West Lake Road and Nine Chimneys.”

  “That will take too long,” said Eliza.

  “No it won’t,” said B.J. “I’ll work fast, not only because I know you want to get to the hospital but because we aren’t supposed to be taking pictures to begin with. We don’t want to get caught.”

  In just over half an hour, B.J. had gotten the video they wanted.

  “On the way out, let’s make a quick stop at the police station,” said Eliza. “I want to see about getting my purse back.”

  “I’ll go in with you,” said B.J. as he parked the car. The security guard pulled into the space behind theirs.

  “Good,” said Annabelle. “I’m going to stay out here and work on my script.”

  The officer staffing the front desk looked up and recognized Eliza immediately.

  “Good to see you, ma’am. How are you doing?” he asked politely.

  “I’m okay,” said Eliza. “But my friend isn’t. He was very badly hurt. We’re on our way to see him in the hospital now.”

  The policeman nodded. “It’s a miracle that you walked away,” he said. “I’ve seen some accidents in my time, but that one was a doozy.”

  “Oh, you saw the car?” asked Eliza.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I was out there this morning. I’m glad you’re all right.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “I left my purse and cell phone in the car, and I was wondering how I can get them back.”

  “We have them here,” said the police officer. “If you wait a minute, I’ll go get them.”

  “That’s a relief,” Eliza said to B.J. while they waited. “I hated the thought of having to replace all that stuff.”

  As the officer returned and handed her the purse, he smiled. “May I ask you a question?”

  “Sure,” said Eliza.

  “Why do you carry so much change?”

  “I’m sorry?”

  “All those quarters,” said the policeman. “My partner and I were pretty sure you didn’t need them for a Laundromat.”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” said Eliza.

  “We found thirty quarters scattered over the area. Some on the roof, more on the ground.”

  Eliza and B.J. looked at each another.

  Thirty quarters, thirty pieces of silver.

  “Oh, good. You got it,” said Annabelle when Eliza got back into the car with her recovered purse.

  “We’ve got more than that,” said B.J., turning the key in the ignition.

  They told Annabelle about the quarters.

  “That was the sound I heard as I was hiding,” said Eliza. “Whoever tried to kill Mack and me threw quarters on the roof of the car.”

  “I don’t get it,” said Annabelle. “What does that mean?”

  “There were thirty quarters, Annabelle,” said B.J. “What does that make you think of?”

  Annabelle thought. “Thirty quarters,” she said aloud.

  “Thirty pieces of silver,” B.J. said impatiently.

  “Like what Judas betrayed Jesus for?” asked Annabelle.

  “Exactly,” said B.J.

  “And think about it, Annabelle,” said Eliza excitedly. “Remember that Jesus was whipped with some kind of leather scourge on the way to Calvary, and the people who mocked him put a reed in his hand as a scepter because he claimed to be King of the Jews?”

  “And that the soldiers who guarded him threw dice for his robes?” asked B.J.

  “And a hammer was used to pound in the nails at the crucifixion?” added Eliza.

  “My God,” said Annabelle. “Not only did we have a suicide by stigmata, now we have murders using the instruments of Christ’s death.”

  CHAPTER 111

  As they drove out the front gate, they passed the news crews and satellite trucks stranded outside, unable to get into the park.

  “God,” said B.J. “Can you imagine how frustrated those guys are?”

  “We lucked out when I rented that carriage house,” said Eliza. B.J. drove slowly and carefully through the crowded area. Eliza looked out the window and saw a reporter pointing to their car. Suddenly a gaggle of camerapeople rushed forward, starved for video and determined to get a picture.

  “Should I get out and say something?” Eliza wondered aloud.

  “No way,” said Annabelle.

  Riding to the hospital, Eliza checked the messages on her recovered phone. Range Bullock, Linus Nazareth, Harry Granger, and Paige Tintle had been trying to get in touch with her, unaware that she’d been without her cell. There was also a message from Susan Cohen saying that they would be back from Hershey with Janie at about 8:00 P.M.

  “Now, you’re sure you don’t need me to record that track?” asked Eliza as Annabelle and B.J. dropped her off at the entrance.

  “No, Bruce Harley came out with the truck. He’ll do the narration, and we’ll shoot a stand-up of him at the park gates or someplace more creative, if we can come up with one.”

  “Maybe we should go into the Catholic church in Tuxedo and see if we can have Harley stand under a crucifix—the more graphic the depiction of Christ’s crucifixion, the better,” suggested B.J.

  “You are a sick man,” said Annabelle. “Truly and deeply sick.” B.J. smirked. “Nowhere near as sick as our murderer.”

  More newspeople were staked out in front of the hospital. Eliza forced her way through the crowd.

  KEY News president Range Bullock was sitting with Margo when Eliza walked into the waiting room. He stood up and hugged her.

  “Thank God you’re all right,” he said.

  “I’m fine,” said Eliza. “Sore, but fine.” She immediately turned to Margo. “How is Mack?” she asked.

  “Stable, but still out of it,” said Margo. “The doctor was just in there a little while ago and checked him.”
<
br />   “Thanks a million for staying here with him,” said Eliza. “You don’t know how much I appreciate that.”

  “We’ve organized a chain, people who’ll take turns being here, at least until Mack gets out of intensive care,” said Range. “I’m taking the next shift. After you go in and visit him, Margo will give you a lift home.”

  Eliza straightened. “Clearly you have it all planned.”

  “We do,” said Range. “What sense does it make for you to wear yourself out waiting here round the clock?”

  Eliza looked at Margo.

  “Do you really think that your standing vigil at Mack’s bedside is going to make him wake up any sooner?” asked Margo.

  If Janie hadn’t been coming home in a few hours, Eliza was certain she would have put up a bigger fight. But she longed to see Janie, hug her, talk to her. If Mack came to, Eliza could be back at the hospital in less than half an hour.

  “Maybe you’re right,” she said. “We’re not sure when Mack will wake up, and I could use a night in my own bed before doing the show in the morning.”

  Range looked surprised. “I just assumed that you’d take a day or two off,” he said.

  Eliza shook her head. “When I let you in on what’s been happening with the Tuxedo Park murders, you’ll understand why I want to tell the KTA audience about it myself.”

  CHAPTER 112

  The leather strap used to kill Zack Underwood represented the scourging Jesus received just before he was condemned by Pontius Pilate. And the reed scepter positioned in his hand was similar to the one given to Jesus as he was mocked by the Roman guards for claiming to be king of the Jews.

  The hammer pounded into Aurelia’s skull symbolized the one that had fastened Christ to the cross. The pair of dice placed in her hand was a reminder of the soldiers gambling for Jesus’s robe.

  It had all gone according to a hastily devised plan—a plan of which the very inventive Innis Wheelock himself would have been proud.