M. Forsythe - While Rome Was Sleeping

Sitting quietly in the pew in the Cathedral, Andrew gave thanks that Charlene could really see Olivia. He thought about the women sitting next to him; Olivia Coleman reflected the quality of person that Charlene had described in Paul Thayer. It was that elusive substance that was the determining factor between the life of Brad Coleman and the exemplary life of Paul Thayer. Andrew understood their friendship.

Following the service Andrew said cheerfully, “I took the liberty of making a reservation for lunch at Ray’s Boat House and I asked father Ben to join us. He’ll meet us at the restaurant.”

When they arrived Father Ben was waiting for them and greeted them warmly saying to Charlene, “I assume this lady is your friend Olivia Coleman.”

Olivia smiled, “That’s right, I am,” extending her hand to Ben.

Seated at the table Father Ben looked at Andrew, “I understand from yesterday’s paper that Lyle Ramsey was found dead in his office. Is that why Jim Savalza called you and you left us so suddenly on Friday evening?” Then turning to Charlene and Olivia he said, “Forgive me, I am sorry to bring up such an unpleasant subject.”

Olivia gasped, “Dead—Lyle Ramsey of Ramsey and Carr-how?”

Andrew looked at her in surprise, “You knew Lyle Ramsey?”

“Yes, in a way; my husband worked very closely with Mr. Ramsey. We met a few times at social gatherings when he would visit Washington.”

Andrew looked at Charlene before responding, “He committed suicide, Olivia, I’m sorry,” he said with regret.

It was Charlene’s turn at surprise, “Andy, why did Jim call you?”

“Charlene,” he said uncomfortably, “Jim and I met with Ramsey earlier in the day on another matter—I can’t say anymore. I was there as a journalist seeking an interview. Remember I work for a newspaper, and as I said I can’t say anymore.”

She wouldn’t let go, “Andrew did yours and Jim’s visit have anything to do with George Kelshaw?”

“George Kelshaw?” Olivia’s hand went over her mouth, “I was at his funeral last Wednesday, with his father and his sister. Did you all know George Kelshaw?” she asked looking at Charlene, Andrew and Father Ben.

Andrew’s eyes were focused on Father Ben who would not return his gaze and busied himself with the menu and drinking his water. Finally looking up, he sheepishly met Andrew’s eyes whose expression was clear, “You got us into this, now what?”

Olivia came to the rescue by saying. “I would like to read the article if possible.”

“Sure,” Andrew nodded, “I’ll get a copy to you.”

Once again Ben avoided Andrew’s eyes as he asked Olivia, “Were you a close friend of Mr. Kelshaw’s family?”

Olivia answered, “In a way, Father Ben, old doctor Kelshaw, George’s father is a neighbor and a friend. He asked if I would accompany him to the service. He is a wonderful person, as is his daughter, George’s sister, Myra.”

Andrew was silently thinking, “Coleman had said he didn’t know George Kelshaw, but his wife would accompany Kelshaw’s father to his funeral, what a rat!” Andrew changed the subject. Looking at Ben he stated, “This is too nice a day to dwell on all this bad news, don’t you agree, Ben?” he said pointedly.

They finished lunch on a lighter note and then Andrew drove them back to the convent, stopping first to get a copy of Saturday’s paper for Olivia.

Charlene could tell that Andrew was somewhat unsettled and walked back to the car as he was leaving. “Andy, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you at the restaurant by prying,” she said contritely.

He put his arms around her and held her briefly. “It’s not anything you said or did, Charlie, I’ve got a lot on my mind; I will talk it over with you later, but not now. It hasn’t crystallized yet. Do you understand?”

“I think so,” she said, “Sometimes there’s just too much… to talk about.”

“That’s it, I’ll call you later. I love you,” he almost whispered.

The phone was ringing in the Coleman’s Virginia home.

Brad Coleman instructed his housekeeper, “I don’t want to talk with anyone, Mrs. Ridgeway…”

“But General, it’s Mrs. Coleman.”

Brad grabbed the phone from Mrs. Ridgeway’s hand—“Olivia is it really you?”

“Yes, Brad, I have some very bad news, I wanted to tell you before you read it in the papers… Lyle Ramsey is dead. It is thought that he committed suicide. Brad, I’m coming home, I want to be there with you. I’ll leave tomorrow,” her voice was warm and sympathetic.

“Livy, thank God! I really need you my dear,” he was dazed as he hung up. The news about Ramsey was stunning.

Olivia and Charlene spent Sunday evening in sobering conversation. Olivia shared her sadness at the change in hers and Brad’s relationship. She told Charlene about Brad’s affair with Lia and that she had forgiven Brad, but other things had cropped up. Intuitively, she knew he was in deep trouble.

Charlene took her friend’s two hands in hers, “Livy, do you really want to go back to Brad now?”

“I have to, Charlene; Brad probably needs me now more than ever and remember the vow, ‘for better or for worse’ well I’ve been through a lot of the ‘better’ so now I will stand with him in the ‘worse’ for his sake and for our daughter Maureen’s as well.”

“I understand Olivia, and I want you to know that I’ll stand with you. Please let’s not lose each other again!”

Monday, October 6, 1980

Harrison was in his office at Ramsey and Carr early on Monday. A wreath with a black bow had been placed in the lobby near the firm’s elevator and stood as a mute reminder of the death of Lyle Ramsey.

When Andrew Kincaid arrived he was met by Connie Porter whose swollen eyes matched the somber mood of the surroundings.

“I’m here to see Mr. Carr, Miss Porter,” Andrew spoke as tactfully as his mission would allow.

“You came at a very bad time, Mr. Kincaid,” her voice breaking. “The firm is closed until…” she didn’t finish.

Andrew could see that Connie Porter was suffering intense grief and he suspected that Connie had been in love with Lyle Ramsey. “I’m very sorry for your loss, Miss Porter,” Andrew said gently, “I was here with the police on Friday night and I spoke briefly with Mr. Carr; I would like to see him to clarify a couple of things. It won’t take long, I promise,” he assured her.

Harrison Carr was at his desk behind a stack of files as Andrew entered the office. Looking up he demanded, “How did you get in here? The firm is closed today, Mr. Kincaid.”

“I just came up to see you, Mr. Carr, not for any legal business. I realize this is a very difficult time for you, but I also see that you have decided the best antidote for grief is work,” Andrew stated.

Carr looked at Kincaid, pondering as Andrew continued, “Were you aware that Detective Savalza and I met with Lyle Ramsey on Friday… did he tell you?”

“I did know, I don’t remember who told me, whether Lyle told me or one of the secretaries mentioned it. I assume it was a personal matter, Mr. Kincaid.”

Andrew shook his head, “No; I believe that Detective Savalza told your receptionist and Lyle Ramsey’s secretary, Miss Porter, that he was here on police business.”

Carr was impatient, “I wouldn’t know about that, Mr. Kincaid. Lyle has, ah had his own practice; he often saw people on ‘police business’ it was routine—why would that be of particular interest to me?

“I’m trying to recover from the tragic death of a man who was like a son to me, because of my relationship to his father, more than a son. The loss of this alone to our firm is staggering. So I will ask you to state your business and leave. As you might guess from this stack of files on my desk, I have a great deal of work to do.”