Split Second
Page 101
Savich nodded. “Okay, Lucy, point taken. But now it’s a different ball game. Tell us all as close as you can what the letter said.”
She looked at each of the agents in turn, then said, “The bottom line was that my grandmother told my grandfather about the ring right after the death of my mother. He wrote about how she kept talking about the ring, about if only she’d had it with her, the ring could have saved my mother, and then she showed him the ring. He wrote that in her grief, my grandmother became obsessed with the ring and he feared for her sanity, and so he stole it. He said he couldn’t destroy it since it was my birthright, but he knew my father wouldn’t want me to have the ring, and so he was leaving it to me along with this letter to open after my father’s death. Of course, he never realized my father would die so young. He believed I’d be reading his letter when I was middle-aged. That’s about it.”
“He called it your birthright,” Ruth said. “A birthright implies it was something incredibly special, and only for you.”
Ollie asked, “What exactly happened to your mother, Lucy?”
“She was struck straight on by a drunk driver. My grandparents were in the car behind her.”
Savich said, “If your grandmother had only had the ring with her, she could have saved your mother? How could a ring stop a drunk driver from hitting your mother’s car? Did your grandfather’s letter tell you what those supposed powers were?”
“He wrote I wouldn’t believe him if he did.”
And then, of course, Savich asked the most important question of all. “Do you have any idea now what those powers are?”
As far as I can tell, I see absolutely nothing at all special about the ring. Or, if there is, I can’t figure it out. Believe me, I’ve tried to find out why anyone would want this ring badly enough to want to kill me for it.
Lucy wished she could say that whopping lie out loud, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She looked at him, mute for a moment, white as her shirt, the purple bruise on her jaw in stark relief. She said slowly, trying to lie clean, “No, I have no idea why the ring is so special. As I said, my grandfather didn’t tell me because he said I wouldn’t believe him. But someone believes the ring has some sort of power, and that someone believes he may know what it is.”
She knows, of course, and it scares her to her heels, Savich thought, but he only nodded. He didn’t expect her to say any more, and she didn’t. Maybe she couldn’t; maybe she was forbidden to. He shook his head at himself. His imagination was running away with him. He said, “Lucy’s right. Someone thinks he knows what the ring can do, and it’s worth killing for. Do you still wear it around your neck?”
She nodded.
“May we see it?”
Slowly, Lucy pulled the gold chain out of her shirt, the ring threaded through it. Every eye in the room went to it, as if pulled by an invisible wire. She took the ring from the chain and handed it to him.
Savich rolled it around in his palm and passed it to Dane to look at. He said, “You’ll see there’s that single Welsh word etched into it—SEFYLL—it means to stop moving, to become stationary.”
“Stop moving what?” Ollie said.
“I don’t know,” Lucy said.
Dane said the word aloud, and again, her heart seized for a moment, but nothing happened. All the agents had to repeat the word, and some of them got it close. Ruth said it right on the button. Lucy jerked, couldn’t help it, and she knew Savich saw it. As for Coop, he held her hand and said nothing at all.
Lucy took the ring back from Ollie, slid it onto the gold chain, and slipped it inside her shirt. All of them looked at the small bulge where the ring lay warm against her flesh.
“Your relatives,” Ruth said, “the Silvermans. They all know about the ring?”
“They denied even knowing about the ring; they didn’t show any interest when I told them last night. I know they have to be our first suspects, given what’s happened, but it’s hard to accept that. I grew up with them in my life, and they’re the only family I have left.” She looked around the conference table as she spoke.
Families, Savich thought. They were the very devil, if you wanted to be objective. “Lucy, I know how hard this is for you, but you need to keep an open mind. Now, you’re butt-deep in the swamp here. I want you to stick with Coop. Consider him another pair of jeans.”
Lucy saw Coop’s pants lying on the floor next to her bed, saw that Coop was grinning at her. She said, her voice cool, “I think that’s an excellent idea.”
She looked at each of the agents in turn, then said, “The bottom line was that my grandmother told my grandfather about the ring right after the death of my mother. He wrote about how she kept talking about the ring, about if only she’d had it with her, the ring could have saved my mother, and then she showed him the ring. He wrote that in her grief, my grandmother became obsessed with the ring and he feared for her sanity, and so he stole it. He said he couldn’t destroy it since it was my birthright, but he knew my father wouldn’t want me to have the ring, and so he was leaving it to me along with this letter to open after my father’s death. Of course, he never realized my father would die so young. He believed I’d be reading his letter when I was middle-aged. That’s about it.”
“He called it your birthright,” Ruth said. “A birthright implies it was something incredibly special, and only for you.”
Ollie asked, “What exactly happened to your mother, Lucy?”
“She was struck straight on by a drunk driver. My grandparents were in the car behind her.”
Savich said, “If your grandmother had only had the ring with her, she could have saved your mother? How could a ring stop a drunk driver from hitting your mother’s car? Did your grandfather’s letter tell you what those supposed powers were?”
“He wrote I wouldn’t believe him if he did.”
And then, of course, Savich asked the most important question of all. “Do you have any idea now what those powers are?”
As far as I can tell, I see absolutely nothing at all special about the ring. Or, if there is, I can’t figure it out. Believe me, I’ve tried to find out why anyone would want this ring badly enough to want to kill me for it.
Lucy wished she could say that whopping lie out loud, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She looked at him, mute for a moment, white as her shirt, the purple bruise on her jaw in stark relief. She said slowly, trying to lie clean, “No, I have no idea why the ring is so special. As I said, my grandfather didn’t tell me because he said I wouldn’t believe him. But someone believes the ring has some sort of power, and that someone believes he may know what it is.”
She knows, of course, and it scares her to her heels, Savich thought, but he only nodded. He didn’t expect her to say any more, and she didn’t. Maybe she couldn’t; maybe she was forbidden to. He shook his head at himself. His imagination was running away with him. He said, “Lucy’s right. Someone thinks he knows what the ring can do, and it’s worth killing for. Do you still wear it around your neck?”
She nodded.
“May we see it?”
Slowly, Lucy pulled the gold chain out of her shirt, the ring threaded through it. Every eye in the room went to it, as if pulled by an invisible wire. She took the ring from the chain and handed it to him.
Savich rolled it around in his palm and passed it to Dane to look at. He said, “You’ll see there’s that single Welsh word etched into it—SEFYLL—it means to stop moving, to become stationary.”
“Stop moving what?” Ollie said.
“I don’t know,” Lucy said.
Dane said the word aloud, and again, her heart seized for a moment, but nothing happened. All the agents had to repeat the word, and some of them got it close. Ruth said it right on the button. Lucy jerked, couldn’t help it, and she knew Savich saw it. As for Coop, he held her hand and said nothing at all.
Lucy took the ring back from Ollie, slid it onto the gold chain, and slipped it inside her shirt. All of them looked at the small bulge where the ring lay warm against her flesh.
“Your relatives,” Ruth said, “the Silvermans. They all know about the ring?”
“They denied even knowing about the ring; they didn’t show any interest when I told them last night. I know they have to be our first suspects, given what’s happened, but it’s hard to accept that. I grew up with them in my life, and they’re the only family I have left.” She looked around the conference table as she spoke.
Families, Savich thought. They were the very devil, if you wanted to be objective. “Lucy, I know how hard this is for you, but you need to keep an open mind. Now, you’re butt-deep in the swamp here. I want you to stick with Coop. Consider him another pair of jeans.”
Lucy saw Coop’s pants lying on the floor next to her bed, saw that Coop was grinning at her. She said, her voice cool, “I think that’s an excellent idea.”
