Shadowed-Death by Design

Chapter Six - The Beckoning?

"Lucy, Herc is the great uncle of Gabby, the young mourner with the braces on her teeth. He keeps you in the dark. That is for sure! This is my only opportunity to phone you, Lucky. After today, you will not be contacting me again, as this phone number cannot be used again. It is being changed. That is standard operating procedure in my secret life."    

“Danni, then I must tell you that Perry is facing exile to South, being investigated by internal affairs. But I must ask, is Gabby your little sister, your charge, your daughter, or your ---?”  

“I cannot answer that at this point. Sorry! But I can tell you that my father was in the American military when I was growing up, stationed in South on his second hitch in France. Fifteen years earlier, on his first hitch, he had fallen in love with my mother, who is French. Sorry, our time is up. I have told you all I am allowed. You must not betray these confidences, Lucky, not to anyone. Good luck with Perry!”  

Finally, the weekend upon her, Lucy's plane touched down at London’s Heathrow Airport, where Christian met her. She entrusted him with her backpack, laden with Pierre's criminal evidence. Once in the car she voiced a request. “May we drop by to see your mother, if she is not too busy? I need to ask her an important question.” 

Within an hour, the two women sat together on a yellow striped divan and Lucy extracted both evidence bags, the sweater and the yarn fragment. Lady Westbrook exclaimed, “What a glorious shade of blue!"

"Do you think the yarns in these two bags are exactly the same color and type yarn?”

“Why, yes, dear. The hue and texture are the same, a perfect match." The two bags were zipped into Lucy’s backpack, and the car sped away. On the outskirts of London, the couple entered an inconspicuous pub, where they encountered embarrassing hails from Christian's fellow students. Ignoring them, Christian purchased two packages of steaming hot fish and chips wrapped in newspaper. When the food had disappeared, Christian pushed the newspapers aside and reached for her hands, gazing penetratingly into her eyes. Their time together was running out, with her flight back to Paris scheduled for the next morning. As they stood, he asked, "May I call you Luce?” She smiled, nodded, and they sealed it with a kiss. Their hours together were precious and few.    

Marie and Franc bolted from their chairs to welcome Lucy home to Neuilly. Unfortunately, Marie handed her a subpoena to appear in court in Ville. But there was also a letter from Jean-Louis Broc in Rouen, which read, "Lucy, how would you like to see Rome this summer? May I tempt you with a couple weeks visiting Saint Peter’s Basilica, the Vatican Museum, the Coliseum, et cetera? My mother’s family lives in Italy, just outside Rome, so we could stay with them. We can both pursue college credits. A few miles outside Naples lies Pompeii, where we could go on an archeological dig and get more units. I await your reply to make arrangements.”

Trying to wrap her mind around Jean-Louis' enticing offer, slumber evaded Lucy. When the alarm clock sounded, she was still awake! Depositing her umbrella in the large Oriental vase in the  court house foyer and entering the courtroom, Lucy found it necessary to avert her eyes from the relentless, piercing gaze of the defense counsel, Remy Sebastian. She had just taken a seat in the gallery behind Prosecuting Attorney Duvet when her attention was drawn to four boisterous individuals who entering the courtroom, two women and two men, all wearing dark glasses. The diminutive man, shorter than Remy, bore no resemblance to the other three, who shared the same facial features. When Counselor Duvet turned around to look at the ruckus, he noticed Lucy. “You look pale, as though you have seen a ghost!”  

She cupped her hands around his ear. “It is that group of four. I am not sure what name goes with what face, or which is the real person of interest, as they were all at Marcel’s funeral---” She was interrupted by Bailiff Georges, “All rise, the honorable Judge Lamont Letour presiding." Everyone present respectfully stood, with the exception for the four who were lackadaisically filing through the gate that separated the judge and attorneys from the gallery. Boisterously joining Defense Attorney Remy Sebastian at the long counsel table opposite Prosecutor Duvet, the quartet finally took their seats and the judge restored order. “We will proceed with this coroner’s Inquest into the death of Marcel. Prosecuting Attorney Duvet and Defense Attorney Remy Sebastain, representing Marcel’s family. Proceed, Monsieur Duvet."