Stranger Within

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

My hero, mentor and kindred spirit died. The Boston Globe headline screamed: Victor Landsdown, Boston Business Leader Murdered. I tried to help him but failed.

The Coroner shipped his body to the funeral home I selected in Brookline. I planned to spend two nights there, keeping vigil with the body. I had already decided to quit my job and leave Boston soon after Victor's funeral. Mark, who replaced him as CEO, was shocked when I handed him my resignation. He seemed dazed after briefly objecting as he wandered out of my office. "Mark, of all of us, I thought you would understand."

Later, it seemed strange that I would attempt to explain. At some point, he will get honest and come clean. When we spoke, Victor still seemed alive. My vigil made it real, no more denial.

I headed to the Back Bay MBTA station to catch the two PM train to Brookline Village. The excitement I felt about leaving Boston was intoxicating. Briefly, I wondered if the funeral director would have a black tie I could borrow?

I ran down the station stairs to catch the train as the last car doors were closing. Luckily I found the last open seat. The sun's glare, smell of sweat, bumpy turns and shrill brakes upset my stomach. The student in the seat next to me began talking and I grunted a response. People can annoy me.

The funeral home was a short walk from the Station. As I walked in, a tall, lanky man with a large bulbous nose met me at the door and introduced himself as the funeral director. I explained who I was and that I planned to stay with the casket until the funeral.

He explained, "I have followed the news about Mr. Landsdown's death and surprised that you have handled the arrangements. Usually, a senior executive is in charge of matters such as this."

I said, "I was his assistant and also a dear friend."

He added, "You seem so young but I'm sure you are quite capable. It just seems odd."

He was stating the obvious. The Company had hired me into my first job after graduation as Victor's Executive Assistant. I finally met him several weeks after beginning my job. He quickly grew to trust and confide in me, I think because he admired my innocence. So much that he had me arrange a meeting with a former lover who was married to his VP of Marketing. After they rekindled their relationship, it all turned extremely ugly. His life and Company events unraveled as this ended and he withdrew from life. My attempts to remain connected and provide support were ignored.

The funeral director never stopped talking and eventually said, "Can I take you to see the body?"

I stood and followed him as he led me down a long dark hallway. He continued talking as we walked.

"We are still preparing the body, this type of death makes the staff extremely nervous."

He led me into a large, stark room with a stainless steel table in the center. On the table lay Victor's naked body.

"Here you are Mr. Wikford." My knees became weak, the bullet hole in the center of his forehead was clearly visible.

"We are preparing for the funeral tomorrow afternoon. That will allow you time to spend a full day with the body. You also specified that we should get a priest to conduct the funeral. I contacted a parish near-by and they will provide a priest. We will finish preparing the body and bring the casket to the viewing area."

I told him we appreciated his help. This was all my doing, Victor hated anything religious.

As I entered the chapel, the sun filled the room with bright warmth. There were a few wooden chairs for sitting with many stacked along the back wall.

I heard the funeral director directly behind me. The short walk made him wheeze, must be a smoker.

"As you see, we closed the casket, we can open it if you prefer."

I walked toward the viewing area while telling him to keep it closed.

"That is outrageous! It should be open.”

I responded, "Forget it!!"

The funeral director turned abruptly and walked out of chapel. The helper who had returned to the back of the room joined me next to the casket. He pulled up two chairs saying, "I understand, may I sit with you?"

I nodded and we sat down near the casket. The room was taking on a calm air and the late afternoon sun was relaxing. The buzzing of a large black fly broke the momentary peace. Suddenly I asked, "How long have you worked here?" After a long pause he responded, "Ten years."

That opened the door and he continued talking. He was astounded that he was ending his work life in a funeral home. He was seventy and spent his entire life in and around Brookline.

I told him that I moved from the Midwest to Boston a year ago to work for Mr. Landsdown and the last year had turned into a nightmare.

He stared back at me with a vacant look in his eyes. We sat silently and I lost track of time. The chapel turned dark and he stood to turn on several lights.

When he sat back down, he asked me if I would like some coffee. I agreed and he went into an adjacent room, then, quickly returned with a large heavy cup filled with steaming coffee. I drank the coffee while he started talking again.

"Will his friends and family be coming soon? I better set up some chairs and brew a large pot of coffee."

The stuffiness in the room was getting my stomach going again. I asked if they had a way to increase air flow in the room. "No, but I will check with Mr. Farth to see if he knows," he responded. After that, I got lost in my own thoughts.

What I recalled was Victor and Sherri standing together next to the protecting wall of his roof top patio. Their heads were close as they peered into the darkness looking for Mark and Sherri's patio lights. Later I tried to advise him that rekindled relationships seldom work. He repeated several times back to me, "It's got to work!" A few weeks later he was shot sitting next to his patio Olympic size pool.

A cool blast of air brought me back; someone must have opened the entrance doors. A small group of people had come into the chapel and I strained to see if I recognized any of them. They were talking softly while they sat drinking coffee. They appeared as shadowy figures to me and their voices mixed to create a gentle hum. Didn't know any of them, some may have attended Victor's lavish parties.

I drifted back to the last party he threw, the one where Sherri brought Mark. She spent most of her time with Victor while Mark was among the missing trying to score. They left well before the party ended with Mark shouting threats toward Victor while Sherri pulled him into the elevator.

My stomach was feeling much better but my back was now sore from the hard chair. Also, the quiet hum of people's whispers, was unsettling. There was another periodic sound that seemed strange. I finally realized that someone was snapping gum. Everyone just milled about the room as if Victor's body wasn't even there. I could be wrong but that's how it seemed.

Drifting off again, I found myself sitting in the back seat of Victor's Bentley with Muriel. Mark was driving as we pulled off Rt. 1 at the Chelsea exit heading toward our Company's security office. As we pulled into view of the office, blue, flashing police car lights were blinding. A body covered by a yellow rain slicker lay in the middle of the street. Suddenly, Mark appeared next to the body as an officer pulled back the slicker and Mark began to vomit. Returning to the car, he mumbled that the corpse was his girl friend

.

A cramp in my back brought me back. People were leaving and soon I was alone. The sunrise was streaming into the room. I was exhausted and headed to the men's room to relieve myself.

I returned and poured myself a morning coffee. I decided to go for a walk and enjoy the beautiful, crisp morning. Immediately my mood darkened as I thought of Victor lying cold in his coffin. While standing in front on the sidewalk about to start my walk, the funeral director came out and came toward me saying:

"We are getting ready for the funeral and will be sealing the coffin. Would you like a final viewing before done?"

"No, not really," I said.

He nodded and told me that I was the only person attending.

I explained, "I heard from his father who was going to try and catch a flight so he could attend. There also could be a few co-workers attending."

He nodded again and the spotted a priest walking across the street. He turned to me saying:

"Here comes the priest from St. Mary's they must have sent. He's early."

He walked up to me saying, "Bless you my son!" He then continued on into the chapel.

We all followed him into the chapel. The funeral director alerted everyone that the priest was about to say an introductory prayers. We all bowed as he said a brief prayer. I opened my eyes and focused on the coffin. It was rustic, glossy and looked similar to the wooden inbox in Victor's office.

Next to the casket stood a silly appearing, little old man. He wore a tattered, black suit and his hair was tangled. It appeared that Victor's dad was able to arrive in time for his son's funeral. What a contrast to his polished son, no wonder he told everyone that his parents were dead!

The funeral director directed everyone to their places and the priest stood in front of the coffin, prepared to begin the service. My mind began to drift again to the first time I arranged a meeting with Victor's long lost love interest.

The meeting I arranged was at a small club near Copley Plaza. Victor had asked Muriel to have me arrange the meeting with Sherri. Victor and I arrived early and he became extremely nervous while we waited. She was very late and Victor threatened to bolt. He also rambled about that last time they had been together prior to his departure for a long assignment with the CIA.

He told me how the evening seemed like being in suspended animation which ended sitting on the living room couch in her parent's luxurious Atlanta home. They sat, saying nothing, with Sherri resting her head on his shoulder.

The bar tender announced to us that black limo just pulled up in front of the club.

Victor said to me, "Do you think it's Sherri, must be, you go meet her!"

I got out of my chair and walk to the limo, the driver ran around to open the back door. Out stepped Sherri in a white satin blouse with plunging neckline and a blue mini skirt. She nearly stumbled because the heels of her black pumps were so high.

She purred, "Tim, are you after me?"

I smiled as I took her arm as we walked into the club. Victor was sitting at another table staring at the ceiling. We walked to the table and Victor jumped to attention.

An explosive clap of thunder brought me back to reality. Within seconds the door to the chapel flew open and a strikingly beautiful blond lady entered the room with water dripping from her hair. I recognized her as one of the most noteworthy people to attend Victor's parties. Many often commented that she looked and had mannerisms similar to Marilyn Monroe.

Victor's father had moved and was sitting in one of the front row of chairs. He gazed around the room and sweat was running down his face. The buzz of bees could be heard from the few flowers on the casket.

Bright sunshine was now streaming into the chapel and the brief down pour had clearly ended. The few people attending were silent with their heads slightly bowed. This gave me a weird, other worldly

feeling. The glossy casket took center stage surrounded by dull black clothing and blinding sunshine filling the room. The room smelled stuffy with a hint of sickening sweetness from the flowers. The sound of flies broke the silence. Suddenly the room began to slowly spin!

I held on tightly to the sides of my chair as the priest began the service. The ceremony went forward quickly but the details escape me. A few memories have remained. The blond party guest at the funeral, never had any direct contact with Victor, yet tears were flowing down her cheeks. Creases gave way in her heavy makeup as she mouthed what appeared to be a prayer.

I also remember the heat in the chapel, the disinterested looks on the faces of those in the room, Victor's father rushing outside in the middle of the ceremony and my feeling of relief when the priest ended his lengthy final blessing.