Cold Case - 4. Chapter 4

David Johnson stood by the window and looked outside. He watched Adam’s car coming up the drive. Adam’s father hurried to open the door. They exchanged a look. David made a gesture with his hand and Adam entered. His father closed the door quickly. They sat down in the living room. David poured them coffee.

"What do you think?" Adam asked.

"Can it be sheer coincidence?" his father asked back. "No, definitely not. I’m just wondering why they put Jeremiah Irons on the list. He was a man with connections. He knew how to pull a few strings."

"He pulled too many strings perhaps," Adam said.

"You mean he got too curious?" his father asked. "Maybe. I’m convinced he suspected something behind certain things, behind certain men, behind those men who were so highly and exclusively interested in Aztec artifacts. His business dealings were shady, but he made a lot of money. So why risk it with being too curious?"

"He might have just stumbled across something, unintentionally," Adam replied.

His father shook his head thoughtfully. "I don’t think they would have performed the ritual on him. They would just have killed him off," he said.

"Why are you so certain that he was not one of them?" Adam asked.

"I just can’t believe it," his father replied. "Jeremiah Irons was, well, let me think of a word, too mundane a man. Like Falcone. I can’t imagine Angelo Falcone was a member of the sect either."

"And yet the ritual was performed on both of them," Adam said slowly.

"Yes, the ritual was performed on both of them and the ritual was performed in a way for all to see," his father said.

"Right," Adam replied. "It was blatant, it was plain to see. Do you think a mock ritual was performed on them as a warning to somebody?"

"I’m convinced that the true rituals are performed in secrecy," his father said. "I said this already eleven years ago."

They looked at each other.

"What makes you so sure that the sect really exists, apart from their threat and their attack on Mom?" Adam asked.

"Doesn’t this suffice to come to conclusions?" his father asked back.

"Come on, Dad," Adam said. "You became suspicious. You still are. Eleven years have passed. You had eleven years to ponder and investigate. Tell me what raised your suspicions in the first place."

"A young student of mine freaked totally out when she heard of Falcone’s death. The ritual murder had raised our interest," his father recounted. "We were wondering if an academic was being involved. You know there are not many experts worldwide, so this idea was somewhat, well, frightening. It could have been someone we knew. The idea, however, was soon discarded. The ritual was blunt, lacked details. Just the heart cut out with an obsidian knife and the body thrown down the stairs. A specialist in Aztec culture would have performed a more refined ritual, would have added details that were unknown to the public at large," he said.

"You thought someone just read about the basics of the Aztec ritual and found it was a spectacular method to kill someone off?" Adam asked.

His father nodded. "Yes, but I changed my mind when Kia freaked out. One of my colleagues organized a party. Several people were invited, among them Kia who worked as a research assistant with that said colleague. Falcone had been killed a month ago. Nobody was particularly interested in the murder anymore. Like I said, we had discarded the idea of one of us being involved. However, the topic was raised again. We talked it through again and shrugged it off once more. Kia had left the room. No one had paid attention and nobody missed the girl for a certain amount of time," he said.

"What happened?" Adam asked.

"I think two hours had passed when someone finally started to look for her in my colleague’s house. They found her in the bathroom, her wrists cut with a pair of scissors. She was taken to a hospital. Her life was not in danger, luckily, but her mental condition was bad. I was told that she talked incoherently. It was said she told weird things about a ritual she had witnessed. Kia was taken to a psychiatric hospital and later left the country. I heard she returned to South Korea where she had originally come from. She had come to London as an exchange student. However, I had the chance to talk with her briefly before she was transferred to the other hospital," Adam’s father said.

"What did she tell you?" Adam asked.

"She told me of a secret ritual she had witnessed. Someone had invited her to a party, but the party had turned out to be a weird festivity that culminated in a human sacrifice. Kia said she saw a man who was dressed like an Aztec priest. He cut out the heart of a woman and threw her body down steep stairs," Adam’s father said. "I believed her report. It was by no means incoherent. But she was hard to understand because of her accent. Her English was broken. I guess this and her weird report made the doctors think she was having mental issues."

"This raises questions," Adam said thoughtfully. "Who invited her? Why was she allowed to participate in the secret ceremony? Where did the ritual take place? Who was the man who acted as an Aztec priest? In other words who was the murderer? And who was the victim?" he asked.

"Yes, I was thinking about all this also," David Johnson said. "Unfortunately, I was not able to get in touch with Kia again. And I think she had no idea where the party had taken place. She said they had left London at night, had driven down country roads and had finally entered a deserted building."

"God, Dad. She must have told you who had taken her to that place and back to London," Adam said.

"Yes, that information was vital," Adam’s father replied.

"Who, Dad?" Adam asked with urgency.

"Reginald Osborne, the colleague who organized the party," David said.

"Osborne?" Adam asked in disbelief. "Why the hell did you never tell me of it?"

"For the sake of your wellbeing and that of your mother. And mine," his father replied. "I had no doubt and still don’t have that they would instantly kill you or your mother if I touched on their secret again in public."

"Reginald Osborne, member of a murderous sect," Adam said slowly. "Well, I must admit, Dad, it would fit in with his eccentricities. I remember him. You invited him and his wife now and then for dinner. He was extravagant, flamboyant, and arrogant. I think I was nine or ten when they came to see us frequently. The man frightened me, but at the same time impressed me a lot. He had an aura of, well, let me think…"

"Sovereign power," his father said.

Adam nodded. "Sovereign power, yes. I didn’t like him. They stopped coming to our house. Why?" he asked.

"He and his wife divorced. Osborne had many amorous affairs, some of them quite embarrassing. Your mother felt uncomfortable in his company. So we stopped inviting him. I think he didn’t even notice that we had cancelled him from our friends list," his father said.

"He had a fling with Kia?" Adam asked.

His father shrugged. "Yes. The older he got, the younger his girlfriends were. I don’t understand what young women see in him," he said.

"Money, wealth, power, a job," Adam suggested. "You can’t color everyone with the same brush. Some girls resist, but some even do it for less."

"Do you speak from experience?" Adam’s father asked.

Adam blushed. "No, not so much," he replied. He coughed slightly.

"Okay, Dad, Reginald Osborne is a member of that sect and you knew it all the time," he continued. "How many of your friends, acquaintances, and colleagues are also involved?"

"I have been pondering on this for eleven years," his father replied.

"Come on, Dad," Adam said. "You have not just been pondering. You have been researching, haven’t you?"

"I had to proceed cautiously," his father said with a nod. "These people attacked your mother. I had no doubt they would attack her again, or you, Adam. I was silent for a couple of months, focused on my work, told the people how much your mother suffered from the attack. The weeks and months passed by. I could only hope they had given up on watching me closely when I started asking around a bit."

Adam nodded. His father continued.

"I talked with Kia’s roommate. She told me Kia had meanwhile returned to South Korea," David Johnson said. "Reginald Osborne obviously wanted to get her out of the way. He had paid the hospital and the flight. The girl told me Kia had befriended Osborne a couple of weeks before he had invited her to the secret party. Kia was flattered, but she was totally shattered afterwards. She didn’t tell her roommate of the murder, just said that something terrible had happened that night."

"This doesn’t help us much," Adam said.

His father nodded. "The girl told me Kia broke off with Osborne after that night and she also broke off with a friend of her, Janet Lloyd, another student," he said.

"Janet Lloyd?" Adam asked.

"I had a chance to talk with Janet when she attended one of my lectures. She was ambitious, arrogant, and there was something secretive around her," his father replied. "I asked her bluntly if she knew what had happened with Kia. It was a risk I took. She could have run to Osborne, but I think she did not, as nothing happened after our conversation, neither to me nor to her."

"What did she tell you?" Adam asked.

"Janet confessed her own love affair with Osborne. She ranted. She did not hold Osborne in high esteem. She said he had perverted sexual preferences," his father said.

"What kind of preferences? S&M?" Adam asked.

His father nodded. "According to Janet, Osborne is a very dominant man. He considers a woman his slave. Not something many women can cope with. Janet finally broke off with him. She suspected Kia had taken her place. Kia was shy, compliant, and obedient. Those were traits inherent to her nature," his father said.

"Do you think he planned to make her the victim of the ritual?" Adam asked slowly.

"I was pondering on it," his father replied. "Yes, I think that was what he had in mind. Perhaps she was forced to watch the ritual in order to prepare her for her future role. Perhaps Osborne did even think Kia would willingly play the role of the victim."

"But the girl freaked out instead," Adam said.

His father nodded. "Osborne had to get rid of her. Killing her off was not an option. Too many people had witnessed her suicide attempt. Osborne didn’t want the police to investigate. Declaring she was having mental issues was a perfect excuse. He played the benefactor, paid the hospital and Kia’s flight back to South Korea. Thus, nobody would suspect him of being responsible for her problems," he said.

"Have you found out anything else?" Adam asked.

"No, nothing else in eleven years," his father replied. "I had already come to the conclusion that the sect had dissolved. Your call, however, told me that I had been mistaken."

Adam mused. "Angelo Falcone and Jeremiah Irons were killed in Rome. I don’t see any connections between Falcone and Osborne. I can see connections between Osborne and Iron, however. Could it be that Osborne illegally sold archaeological objects to Jeremiah Irons?"

His father nodded. "Definitely. There have always been rumors about him, but he was able to cover up his activities. At least I have never heard that anybody ever had evidence against him," he said.

"I suspect Angelo Falcone and Jeremiah Irons got in touch with the group and stumbled over their secret," Adam said.

"The murders are a warning to the group members," his father mused. "Presumably to those who tend to leave the group."

"What happened to Janet Lloyd?" Adam asked.

"She left university five years ago and went to the States. I have not heard from her again," his father replied.

"Do you have any idea regarding the place of the ritual?" Adam asked.

His father shrugged. "Kia said they left London and were driving down country roads. I think the place is close to London, on the countryside, a deserted place with a building big enough to perform the ritual. A deserted mansion perhaps," he said.

"Wouldn’t nightly activities attract attention?" Adam asked.

"I have no idea how many people were present that night, Adam. Kia said the hall was crowded. How many persons do fit into an entrance hall? Twenty? Thirty? Five or six cars at night, not driving together, one every fifteen minutes or so. I could imagine they would not attract attention," his father said.

"You’re right," Adam said thoughtfully. "I’ll be talking with Steve, my colleague. I flew to Rome with him."

"Why is he interested in the murder in Rome?" his father asked.

"He’s convinced the murder is connected with a case of burglary that happened three years ago. The burglar stole a few Aztec vases. Jeremiah Irons had sold them," Adam said.

"Doubtlessly a connection, albeit a faint one," his father replied. "Who was the owner of the vases?"

"Derek Peterson, a wealthy banker. His father Joseph bought the vases eleven years ago from Jeremiah Irons," Adam replied.

"Eleven years ago. Interesting," his father said slowly. "I’m afraid I cannot connect the names with someone I know or knew."

"A witness said that Joseph Peterson owned an obsidian knife that he hid in his library," Adam said. "But neither his son nor the police found the knife. Perhaps the burglar came to get it."

"Joseph Peterson could have been a member of Osborne’s sect. The knife could have been a ceremonial knife. You need to investigate more thoroughly, Adam," his father said urgently.

Adam smiled briefly. His smile disappeared and he gave his father a serious look. "We will find out all about it," he said.

They parted an hour later. Adam promised to keep in touch.

***