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For every novel Natalie Ratcliff had published since Baggage took the world by storm, she had gone to Santorini—a quaint and tranquil Greek island where the Ratcliffs owned a hillside villa—to write the final chapters of the story and polish the manuscript before handing it over to Diane.
“It was worth a try,” Diane said. “I can’t wait to read it. Honestly, Natalie, I’m thrilled that you and Peg Perugo will be with us for many years.”
“Me too.”
“I also have a favor to ask,” Kenny said, as Natalie refilled everyone’s wineglass.
“Oh yeah?” Natalie asked.
“I got a call from the LA office. Avery Mason, the host of American Events, wants to set up a meeting with you about a story she’s working on.”
“Avery Mason?” Natalie said with wide eyes. “About what?”
“An old friend and an old case. That’s about all I know. Her people reached out to my people, so I don’t have the specifics other than the request to talk,” Kenny said. “I said I’d ask.”
Natalie Ratcliff was not an easy person to reach. Hemingway Publishing was a subsidiary of HAP Media, and strings had been pulled and back channels navigated to make the request. The bid to arrange a meeting with Natalie Ratcliff had finally reached Kenny Arnett.
Natalie nodded. “Sure. Do you have contact information for me?”
“In the car,” Kenny said. “I’ll give it to you when we leave. In the meantime”—he raised his wineglass—“to five more blockbusters.”
Diane raised her glass as well. Natalie smiled and clinked glasses with each of them.
“Did you really think I’d let anyone else publish my books?”
CHAPTER 28
Manhattan, NY Thursday, July 1, 2021
EVER SINCE LEAVING EMMA’S HOUSE AVERY HAD BEEN HAUNTED BY Victoria Ford’s voice. Each night as she settled in her hotel room, Avery considered listening to the answering machine recordings again. So far, she hadn’t gotten up the nerve. They were too haunting. A junior high student when the September 11 attacks occurred, Avery knew that each generation dealt with the tragedy in their own way. She had been enrolled in private school in Manhattan, which closed its doors for the week after the attack. When she and her classmates returned, rumors circulated through the hallways about more attacks on the city and that schools would be the next target. Avery still remembered the fear and apprehension she had felt, waiting for an airplane to take down the walls of her school. The morning of 9/11 and her experiences in the days that followed had always been viewed through the prism of a teenager. Until now. She was about to approach the topic, not as a wide-eyed adolescent, but as a journalist. It had her both buzzing with excitement and filled with anxiety.
Listening to Victoria Ford’s message to her sister had been personal and emotional, but it hadn’t been the first time Avery heard such recordings. Mack Carter had done an American Events special for the ten-year anniversary of 9/11. In it, Mack interviewed survivors who had escaped the towers and documented the life and death decisions they made that morning. Many of them, like Victoria, had called home as they tried to navigate their way out of the towers. Avery was about to speak with one of them.
Emma Kind had created a list for Avery of everyone in Victoria’s life at the time of her death. It included friends and family, bosses and coworkers, and Roman Manchester—Victoria’s defense attorney and the man she had gone to see on the morning of September 11, 2001. Someone who, unlike Victoria, had made it safely out of the crumbling building.
Roman Manchester was seventy-one years old and still a practicing defense attorney today. The list of clients he had represented over the years was long and distinguished, if not infamous. A few notables included his consultation on the O.J. Simpson trial in the nineties, his involvement with John Ramsey, father of JonBenét, and his brief representation of Scott Peterson. Manchester had agreed to meet with Avery when she called, and now she pushed through the entrance of the building in the financial district and rode the elevator to the eleventh floor. She pulled open the glass door on which was stenciled MANCHESTER & PARTNERS, gave her name to the receptionist, and was ushered into the attorney’s office.
“Roman Manchester,” the man said with a smile as he approached Avery and extended his hand.
“Avery Mason. Thanks for taking the meeting.”
“Of course. Have a seat.” He pointed to the chair in front of his desk. The attorney took his own seat behind the desk. “No American Events cameras?” he asked with a laugh.
In the last twenty-four hours, Avery had watched dozens of videos of Roman Manchester in front of news cameras. Some were formal news conferences during which the man proudly stood behind a podium and opined about his client’s innocence. Others were of Roman Manchester on the courthouse stairs, wheeling boxes of research and courtroom notes behind him, and taking a moment out of his oh-so-busy day to answer reporters’ questions about his client. The man, it seemed, never missed an opportunity to be in front of the camera. Avery had watched footage from the nineties, when his hair was black and his face was wrinkle free. She’d also watched footage from his most recent trial earlier this year, when he stood behind the podium with silver hair and droopy jowls. Through the transformation of age, the man’s skin carried a perpetual tan and his eyes always looked sharp. The years had mixed gravel into his voice, but it still boomed in the latest video, certain of his client’s innocence.
Avery smiled. “No cameras. Just me. I’m trying to get my arms around this story before we start shooting footage. But if the network goes ahead with the special, I’ll be back for a formal interview. The cameras will be with me then. If you’re willing, of course.”
“Absolutely. I’ll admit I was intrigued when you called. Victoria Ford was a long time ago, but still so vivid in my memory.”
“I’m sure she is, and that’s what I was hoping to speak with you about. Victoria’s remains were recently identified by the medical examiner’s office here in New York, and that started me onto her story. The rest of her history came as a surprise.”
“I hadn’t heard about the identification until you called. It certainly brought back a flood of emotions.”
Avery nodded, and could only imagine what those recollections entailed. Roman Manchester had been in the World Trade Center when the first plane flew into it. He must have terrifying memories of that day.
“Can you tell me about your relationship with Victoria?”
“She initially contacted me to represent her in the Cameron Young murder investigation. We hadn’t gotten too far into her defense before she died. I knew the case better than I knew the client.”
