The Orlando File (Book One) Page 13
Sam Cohen was the last on Kerrin's list of those who had 'committed suicide'. According to Kerrin's sister Elizabeth, Sam was not married, and he lived with his elderly sister on the outskirts of Burlington, a little seaside town, about fifty miles north of Orlando. Apart from the address, and the telephone number, that was about all Elizabeth could say about him, except that Sam was the quietest of the group, and didn't socialise as much as the others.
First thing in the morning Kerrin drove to the nearest mall, and bought himself a new battery and a cell phone charger. Keeping the receipts so that he could claim it all back on expenses from The Post later, he drove out of town and headed towards Burlington.
En route he stopped at a deli to pick up some breakfast, and made a call to Cohen's sister. Luckily she was at home, and after explaining about Martin and what he was trying to do she agreed to see him.
Once again the weather in Florida was perfect. "Wake up to Another day in Paradise, Welcome to Florida!" he remembered reading somewhere on a car sticker. They weren't far wrong. The place was beautiful.
He missed living in Florida. Deciding that he wasn't in such a rush after all, he took the next exit off the freeway, and found his way back down to the coastal highway. It would only take an extra thirty minutes if he went the scenic route.
The coast road wove in and out of towns clustered around their own little patch of sandy coastline, full of happy people stretched out on the silver sands, playing volleyball and already supping beers. It reminded Kerrin of his times spent on Spring Break down in the Keys, before he had joined the force.
Although not too busy, the route Kerrin had chosen was taking longer than expected, the numerous traffic lights along the way forcing him to continuously stop and start while switching his attention back and forward from the beach to the road ahead.
Just after passing through a little town called Crighton Heights, Kerrin realised almost too late that the light in front had changed colour.
Slamming on the brakes, he managed to stop just in time. Anticipating the jarring thud that could come from the car behind slamming into his rear end, he flashed a backward glance in his rear mirror. Luckily, the nearest car to him was quite far behind, a blue Mazda, which had no problem in stopping, and came easily to a halt several feet behind him. Slightly embarrassed, Kerrin drove on, and learning his lesson, paid less attention to the bikini clad beauties on the beach, and more to the road.
The Cohen household had a fantastic view of the beach. Their private stretch of land ran from the house down across the sand dunes to the silver beachfront, just visible from the road. The house was situated high on a hill at the end of a low lying piece of headland, which commanded an excellent view of the sweeping bay in front.
It had to be said, that the core team of geneticists at Gen8tyx all seemed to be doing very well for themselves. All of them had expensive houses, and the cars parked in the driveways were not exactly cheap.
"It's a beautiful view isn't it? You can understand why my brother loved to live here so much!"
The voice of a woman caught him off guard. He had been so wrapped up in the panorama, that he had not seen her coming out of the house and walking down the path to the roadside.
The three storey house was set back from the road, a large covered porch running around the outside of the building. The sunlight bounced off the bright white walls, and glistened off the beautiful, well-tended, exotic flowers and shrubs that bordered the house and the edge of the path. Everything looked fresh, clean and inviting. The bright green of the grass, obviously irrigated well and often, cut a sharp yet complementary contrast to the bright yellows, reds and blues of the flowers, the white of the house, and the blue of the sky and the sea beyond. It reminded him of a fairly tale house, the sort of house a person always dreamt of owning, but realistically knew he never would.
Except Sam Cohen had realised that dream. Then he had died.
"I'm sorry. I didn't notice you, I was admiring the view of the house and the sea so much. My name is Kerrin Graham…I called you about an hour ago?"
"Yes, yes, I guessed it was you. Welcome to 'Traum Villa'. It would have made Sam happy to know you like the place so much. Come…come, I have tea. Or would you like a cold beer? Sam liked cold beer…"
He followed her into the house, noticing immediately how clean and ordered everything was. The interior was as beautiful as the outside. Golden, bright, almost glowing wooden floors, with white, yellow and cream walls. Luxurious white leather armchairs and sofas, fresh cut flowers. The scent of lemon in the air…In spite of the fact that the place looked too clean, perhaps a little too much like a museum that wasn't lived in for Kerrin's taste, he had to admit to himself that he had fallen in love with the building as soon as he had seen it. He would not have to ask Sam Cohen's sister why he had not gone to live in California. It would be a stupid question.
She took him past several rooms in to the back of the house, to a living room which took up most of the ground floor. The back of the room was dominated by a set of vast, panoramic windows which ran from the floor to the ceiling and captured every ounce of light, letting the vista of the blue bay outside flood into the house and wash over him.
In one corner of the room was a large, white, Steinway grand piano, and immediately Kerrin was seized by the romance of what it would be like to sit at the piano and play, looking out onto such a view.
The room was incredible.
He turned to Ms Cohen, about to say something, but was met by her smile. She had been standing by his side, studying his reaction to the room and the panoramic view, and when he noticed her smile, the pride in her eyes, he knew that words were not necessary. Instead he just smiled back, and for a moment something was shared between the two of them.
"Sam would have liked you Mr. Graham. How can I help you?"
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As his sister told the story, Kerrin learned that Sam's story was both a sad and happy one.
In spite of himself, Kerrin began to like the man, and he wished that he had been able to meet him in life, and not in tales of death.
Sam had married once, but after five years of happiness together, his wife and unborn daughter had died in childbirth.
While courting, Sam and his wife-to-be had first found the house together one afternoon, when strolling along the beach. In those days, the house was old and run-down, but in the weeks that followed whenever they walked along the beach, hand in hand, they had looked up at the house and played imaginative games, describing to each other how they would repair and restore it if the house belonged to them. They had dreamt dreams of a life together, and of growing old in the house on the hill.
Then one day, the old woman who lived in the house had died and without his girlfriend knowing, Sam had bought the deeds to the property.
On the night he proposed to her he had taken her to the gate at the bottom of the path that led from the beach to the house, and had gone down on one knee.
She had cried, and when she said 'yes', Sam had given her the keys to the house.
From then on, and for the rest of her life, she had worn the ring that bound the keys of the house together as her engagement ring. Three months later they were married, and together they had started to repair and rebuild the house.
Theirs had been a happy marriage. Two lives, one love. Strong and beautiful.
Sam had never remarried. Had never loved again. Had never fully found how to live again. A life lived in the past.
The house had become a memorial to their love.
The house on the hill.
As Sam's sister had recounted the story to him, Kerrin felt himself strangely moved. The fairytale house with its own little fairytale. It seemed so unfair that tragedy had come back to revisit the same household so cruelly.
"So how did he die, Miss Cohen?"
"The police say he drowned himself. They found the body lying on the beach at the bottom of the garden."
/> "And did he?"
"Of course not. The part of the story that I haven't told you yet was that Sam and his wife had made a vow to each other, a vow which they had sworn to each other and taken as solemnly as their wedding vows. On the first night they had come here, after Sam had bought the house, they sat in this room and opened a bottle of champagne. They were young, and in love. Their lives were before them, and as they sat in the house with the paper peeling off the wall, the old oak doors rotten with woodworm, and the water dripping through the roof, they made a lover's promise to each other…"
Sam's sister was smiling, but the tears had started to roll from the corners of her eyes.
"…They had promised each other that they would rebuild the house, and turn it into the most beautiful house in the world…a house of dreams…the 'Traum' house. No matter what happened to each other, if one of them died, the other person would make sure it was finished."
"…They were young, they were in love…perhaps a little foolish…neither of them could have foretold her tragic death so soon afterwards. Anyway, Sam never forgot the vow he made. He has spent the past twenty years fixing the house up with his own hands."
"I don't understand…" Kerrin loved the story, but didn't see where she was going with it.
"Come with me…come with me," she urged him, beckoning with her hand.
He followed her out of the large living room and up three flights of stairs, coming out into the attic space beneath the roof. Unlike the rest of the house, which was almost perfect in every way, the attic was a mess. Floorboards were lying piled on top of each other in a corner underneath one of the gables, and the smell of fresh paint still lingered in the air. Electricity cables hung loosely from the ceiling, and some plastic pipes lay in a pile, beside some carpet tiles, which were still in their boxes, untouched and unwrapped.
"Sam had just started working on the attic. It's the last room to be done in the house. He was taking his time with it, but said it would be finished next year sometime. The house was truly a labour of love, in all sense of the words. Sam was heartbroken, yes, but he would never have broken his vow and taken his own life before he had finished this last room…never…"
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They were sitting together again downstairs in the large room with the stunning view, drinking coffee and eating some of Miss Cohen's delicious home baked cakes.
"Could it have been an accidental drowning?" Kerrin asked.
"I don't think so. Sam was very strong. He swam in the bay almost every day. He knew all the tides, all the currents. He could swim for a couple of hours with ease. Only three weeks ago I watched with the binoculars as he swam from here right over to the other headland and back. Do you know how many miles that is?"
Kerrin looked out of the window, following the direction the lady was pointing in.
It was a hell of a long way. He must have been an incredibly strong swimmer.
"Did he have any enemies?"
"I don't think so…Sam hardly ever went out. We lived a quiet life here together. Growing vegetables and tending the garden. It's a possibility he did have enemies, but he never mentioned them to me."
"What about work?"
"He was dedicated to it. Apart from the house, it was his main interest in life. Kept on saying that he wanted to be able to help other people, that what he was doing was really important."
"Do you know what he was working on?"
"No. He said that he couldn't discuss it at home. Not that I would have understood a word. It was enough for me that it made him happy."
"Was he under any stress in the last few months?"
"Of course he was! He didn't want to lose his job, Mr Graham. He wanted to keep it. But he wouldn't…couldn't… move to California. His life was here. With this house…" She paused, moving to the piano and stroking the ivory keys, before picking up one of the pictures that sat on top of it.
She stared at it for a while, a look of admiration showing on her face, then she handed it to Kerrin.
"Look…that's Sam in the top corner. They took that about three weeks ago at the bottom of the garden…just over there."
Kerrin took the picture from her. It was a photo of six people standing in a tight group holding beers and wine, and he immediately recognised that it was a picture of all the people whose deaths he was investigating. Everybody was there…he recognised Martin, Alex, Tom, and also Mike and Henry from the pictures he had seen at their widow's houses.
"May I please borrow this for a day or two, and make a copy of it? I'm sure all the other bereaved relatives would love a copy too?"
"That's a nice idea. Please. But take care of it…"
"What was the occasion?"
"I don't know. I think they had a meeting about what was going on…yes, that's it… I remember now. Sam and Tom, that’s him there…"she said pointing to the photo…"they were really concerned about the new people that were joining the company. Henry had guessed what was going on, and I think he called the meeting because he wanted to tell everybody something. Henry,…yes, that's him…yes, it was his idea.”
"What happened? Did Sam say anything about it later?"
"No. But after the meeting Sam was both angry and excited at the same time. He said, 'they weren't going to take it lying down.' Talked about a Phoenix, and something about them rising from the ashes? Does that make any sense to you Mr Graham?"
"I think it does. I think that Henry Roberts knew what was happening. He had to…he was the financial guru behind Gen8tyx. Perhaps he called a meeting to explain it all to the others? And maybe they decided to stand up for themselves and start their own company!"
"Oh, that would have been nice. Sam always wanted to have his own company…Poor Sam…Mr Graham, do you know why my brother was killed?" she looked at him, a sadness clouding over her eyes.
"No. Not yet, Miss Cohen. But I promise you, I'm going to find out. And when I do, I'm going to make sure that whoever is responsible will pay for it."
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As Kerrin left the house, closing the garden gate behind him, he noticed the blue Mazda sitting on the opposite side of the road, about a hundred yards further up the hill. As he glanced in its direction, there was a flash of light from something inside the car on the driver's side, almost like the reflection of sunlight off a mirror.
He climbed into his car, switched on the ignition, and drove slowly down the hill towards the sea. With one eye on his rear-view mirror, he noticed the Mazda pull away from the sidewalk and start to drive after him.
The same blue Mazda that had nearly crashed into him at the traffic lights only hours before.
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The man in the blue Mazda, dropped the newspaper and picked up the camera. His target was just coming out of the house.
"Damn, the sunlight!" the man swore as he tried to take a quick picture. The sunlight was streaming straight into the lens and it made taking any photographs impossible.
He picked up his cell phone from the seat beside him, speaking without introducing himself to the woman at the other end.
"He's just leaving the Cohen woman. What do you want me to do?"
"Nothing yet. Just follow him, and find out where he's staying…"
"Okay. Will do. Have you heard anything from New York?"
"Not yet. In the meantime, don't lose him. We need to know what he's going to do next."
Chapter 13