Requiem for Riley

By Roy Ziegler

During the 1958 World Expo, in Brussels, a part of the original manuscript of Mozarts Requiem Mass containing the last four words ever written by the great composer was stolen. It has never been recovered.

In his suspense novel, Requiem for Riley, Roy Ziegler presents the gripping story about a powerful global investment broker, Heinrich Winterbottom, and his quest to find the precious fragment. The story involves international intrigue and a death-defying plot that unfolds in one of the most architecturally unique buildings in the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 30, 2017
• ISBN: 9781543457179

Roy Ziegler

Roy Ziegler is past president of the New Hope Historical Society and currently serves as a member of its board of directors. Unfaltering Trust is his third book about early American history. The Parrys of Philadelphia and New Hope (2011) is a history of five generations of the renowned Parry family. New Hope, Pennsylvania: River Town Passages (2007) chronicles the history of fifty historic buildings and sites in New Hope, Pennsylvania, over three centuries.

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Copyright © 2017 by Roy Ziegler.

Library of Congress Control Number:             2017915392

ISBN:                        Hardcover                              978-1-5434-5715-5

                                 Softcover                                978-1-5434-5716-2

                                 eBook                                     978-1-5434-5717-9

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 10/28/2017

Xlibris

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Contents

Acknowledgements

The Atomium in 2017

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

To Michael

Cum sanctis tuis in aeternum

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

The author wishes to thank Charles F. Tarr, Inge Van Eycken and Thomas Kohlmann for their assistance

with the production of this book.

SPECIAL ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO

Bernard F. Stehle

The Atomium in 2017

image001.jpg

Photograph by Charles F. Tarr

CHAPTER 1

Before Leo Weber could catch up to him, Matt Stephenson had scrambled over the slippery lava rocks and leaped into the deep pond, its bluish-green water already turning a shade of purple from the blood streaming out of Riley Warner’s body. Matt grasped his arm and dragged him to the wall. Riley’s eyes were shut tight and Matt gasped when he saw the gory wound on the right side of his head.

Don’t die! Riley, you can’t die! Matt’s voice rang through the cavernous lobby of the Hawaii Kai Casino and Resort.

When Leo reached the pond, the roar of the giant waterfall cascading from forty feet above him drowned out Matt’s desperate plea. He was stunned by Matt’s hysteria. He had never before seen him totally out of control. Leo saw a policeman walking across the lobby, and shouted.

Officer, there’s been a horrible accident over here. Our friend’s been badly hurt. Can you get some help?

The policeman barked into his radio, a crackling sound responding as he hustled toward the pond.

We’ve got rescue squad ambulances standing by all morning for the grand opening. They’ll be here in a minute, sir.

What’s going on, Leo? Where is everyone? Riley could be dying and no one’s here to help him. He kissed Riley’s forehead. Wake up, Riley.

Matt’s voice grew solemn as he began to realize that the best friend he ever had was rapidly slipping away.

Only fifteen minutes earlier several thousand people, including the Governor of New Jersey, had packed the lobby and the boardwalk in front of the Hawaii Kai Casino Resort for its grand opening, the culmination of the greatest interior design achievement of Riley Warner’s career.

Riley’s astounding dive off the cliff into the pond had signaled the opening of a dozen doors to the casino, as the sound of Hawaiian music filled the lobby. Most of the frenzied crowd had rushed inside, led by the casino owner, Louis Stagliano, and the Governor, unaware of Riley’s fate.

Wailing sirens disrupted the peaceful oceanfront as the ambulance approached the lobby entrance and two medics hopped out and raced inside. Matt helped them lug his friend’s slumped body out of the water and onto a gurney. One of the men examined Riley, looked up at Matt and shook his head as they wheeled Riley out to the ambulance. Matt and Leo jumped in with the medics and they sped over to Atlantic City Hospital.

This whole thing—all of it—it’s entirely my fault.

Matt squeezed Riley’s hand.

I pushed him too hard. All I thought about was me and that freaking casino. Now the best friend I’ve ever had is … I can’t deal with this.

Leo stared at him, struggling to find words to comfort him.

Matt, you know how much Riley loved this project. From the minute you told him about it when we all had lunch in that old Italian restaurant, you saw how excited he became. Remember how much he wanted to sketch the hotel right after getting out of his hospital bed following that horrible accident he’d been involved in a couple of years ago?

No. You saw how I pressured him, jerked his chain, bitched and moaned for the final designs. I pushed him off that cliff all by myself. I’m the one who did this.

You’re not thinking clearly. This day’s been far too much for all of us.

Leo, you’ve always been there for me. When my dad died, you were by my side. When I hatched that cockamamie scheme to restore the old Green Rock Resort, you’re the one who led the way. And when Stagliano and those casino guys made me the offer I couldn’t refuse, somehow you pulled a rabbit out of your hat and found Riley to save us. But now, … look at him.

Listen to me, we’re gonna get through this … like we’ve gotten through every crazy thing that’s happened to us over the past fourteen years. We’ll do it together like we’ve always done before.

When the ambulance arrived at the hospital, the medics got out and swung open the back doors, pulling out the gurney that bore Riley Warner. As Matt and Leo followed behind, they could hear the medics shouting, Code Black.

ж

An hour later, Louis Stagliano, the casino owner, entered the emergency room at Atlantic City Hospital and saw Matt and Leo sitting on a long wooden bench in the corridor, their heads bowed low in tired silence.

Guys, what’s happening here? They just told me about Riley. My god, I had no idea.

Their heads jerked up in unison at the sound of the casino executive’s voice.

"This is all too strange for me to understand. Look, fellas, Riley told me about his plan for the grand opening of the Hawaii Kai, and I thought it was brilliant. The idea of a Hawaiian clad in a loincloth, holding a Tiki torch and leaping from a forty-foot high cliff into a pond, triggering the opening of all casino doors was mind-blowing. But, Christ, he never told me he was going to be the Hawaiian."

We’re sitting here trying to figure out this miserable thing ourselves, Matt said, sobbing. Leo put his arm around him and looked up at Stagliano.

Mr. Stagliano, Riley’s … dead. His head hit the lava rocks as he dove into the pond. They told us a little while ago that the loss of blood was too severe. They couldn’t save him.

Matt could not take any more discussion about Riley’s death. He got up and raced down the hall to the room where they had last seen him. Stagliano removed his hat. Leo turned to the casino boss.

Matt and Riley grew up together and were like brothers all their lives. This is incredibly hard for him to deal with. He’s not able to process any of it.

I’m never gonna forget the guy. He was a genius at what he did for us, and he worked damned hard to make our resort the fantastic success that it is. He was so … young and energetic.

Matt returned about ten minutes later.

Matt, I was telling Leo. I can’t believe it. He was only thirty-seven years old and so dynamic and always full of life and ideas. It all seems so impossible.

Matt was silent and rubbed his face with both hands as the resident physician approached them.

Gentlemen, we will be preparing Mr. Warner’s body for transfer to the coroner’s office. This kind of accident requires that an autopsy be performed before we can release him to his family.

You mean you’re gonna cut him up, don’t you? Matt glared at the doctor.

Sir, it’s required by law that—

We all saw what happened over there. You can’t go carving up his body because of some insane law!

Can’t you let us take custody of him and get him back home? Leo pleaded.

Mr. Stagliano stepped closer to the doctor and whispered.

Please hold on a minute, doctor. I need to make a couple of phone calls about this.

He hurried down the hallway to the pay phones along the wall. A half hour later the hospital received a directive to release Riley’s body into Matt’s custody. He was moved to the morgue in the basement of the hospital as Matt and Leo made arrangements with a local funeral director to transport his body back home to Sussex County.

Thank you, Mr. Stagliano. Thanks for your help with that. We’re going to give him a dignified burial in Sparta next to his parents. That’s where he belongs.

I’m glad I could help, Matt. Look, why don’t you gentlemen take a couple of weeks or so off. You’ve got a lot to handle right now. I’ll see that everything is taken care of at the Hawaii Kai.

That’s very thoughtful of you. Before we leave tomorrow I’ll get our management team together and work out a temporary plan.

Terrific, Leo.

They all turned, walked toward the exit and paused in the doorway, staring at one another in silence before departing, trying to grapple with the nightmare that was supposed to have been the grandest day of their lives.

CHAPTER 2

Heinrich Winterbottom’s high school class had unanimously voted him the least likely to succeed, a designation he carried like an Academy Award into the commencement ceremony on graduation day. His appointment as photographer for the high school newspaper was his only extracurricular activity. Sporting events, especially boys’ swimming meets, were his favorite assignments. He won two First-Place awards from the Pennsylvania State High School Media Association for his action photographs of the winning dives at the boys’ state championship swimming competition. Heinrich himself was not the athletic type. His widely celebrated appetite for after-school banana splits at Dairy Queen, or Big Macs or pizza, foiled his half-hearted battle with the scale, leaving him sixty pounds overweight on graduation day.

But his reputation as the most sought-after guest at any party went unchallenged. No get-together was ever dull when Heinrich was part of the crowd. He had won the nickname Lou because of his uncanny resemblance to comedian Lou Costello, of Abbott and Costello fame, and he was just as funny. So he played along with the act, often wearing a black bowler hat, comically slapping the side of his face to get a laugh, learning most of Costello’s comedy routines and frequently coaxing friends to play the part of Bud Abbott, the straight man of the duo.

Two weeks before Christmas, Heinrich and his family traveled to the Pocono Mountains for a weekend of skiing. His father, Eugene, was an associate professor of English at the University of Pennsylvania, and often took the family skiing over the long Christmas break. Heinrich never took to the slopes, but he enjoyed the fun at the lodge, especially hanging out with the gang at the cocktail lounge. His older brother, Lloyd, and his younger sister, Margie, were excellent skiers, both taught by their father, an avid skier himself, when they were in elementary school. Their mother, Patricia, sometimes joined them on the slopes, but she had difficulty navigating the snowy terrain and felt more comfortable hanging out with Heinrich in the cozy lounge.

On the day before their planned return home, Lloyd and Margie headed for the steepest trail for one last afternoon of fun on the slopes. As they glided rapidly down the hill together, laughing and shouting back and forth to each other, a sudden snow squall blinded Lloyd’s view of an oak tree that was looming in his skewed path. He slammed headlong into the tree and collapsed in front of it, his helmet and one of his skis careening down the hill.

A skier who had seen the accident sped down to the clubhouse and called the rescue squad.

Seated by a mammoth window that framed the snow-covered hills outside the lounge, Heinrich and his parents were chatting about the impending holiday, enjoying hot toddies. They grew silent for a moment when they saw the ambulance approaching the bottom of the slope, clueless about the victim it was rushing to save.

As Margie reached her brother, she saw the blood-soaked snow. He wasn’t moving.

Lloyd, can you hear me?

The medics arrived, assessed Lloyd’s condition, moved him to a stretcher and down the hill to the ambulance. Margie was screaming his name to them as they sped over to Stroudsburg Memorial Hospital.

ж

They can’t be skiing so late. What’s keeping them? Patricia Winterbottom was worried. Her children had always been unpredictable and a bit wild.

I think they’re trying to milk the weekend and this magnificent snowy weather for all they can get out of it, Eugene Winterbottom cautioned, They’ll be here soon, I’m sure.

Her husband’s calm words failed to comfort her.

I’m going back to our room to get ready for dinner, but I’ll check downstairs to see if I can find them.

We’ll see you in a bit. Heinrich drained his glass, smacked his lips and looked at his father. I absolutely love skiing, dad. Thanks for taking us up here this weekend.

His father chuckled and tousled Heinrich’s thick black hair.

Ricky, I must say, you’ve learned the art of après-ski rather quickly.

They laughed as they got up from the table and went back to their rooms, unaware of the tragedy that had occurred moments earlier.

ж

Later that evening they all gathered at the hospital. Margie, still trying to come to grips with what she had witnessed, was being treated for shock. They surrounded her bed, as if trying to shelter her from any further harm.

Dad, it all happened so fast, she moaned, struggling to sit up in bed. We were laughing and racing down the hill and the next thing— Her voice trailed off as her head collapsed back onto the pillow.

Her mother held Margie’s arm and gently brushed back her hair.

How horrible that she saw it all happen. Look at her, she’s so shaken up.

As they sat in the stark white hospital room, the surgeon entered.

Folks, I’m Doctor Martin Philip. I’m afraid I have some terrible news.

No! Patricia screamed.

I’m sorry, ma’am. Lloyd was unable to regain consciousness. The head trauma was far too invasive for him to recover. We’ve done everything possible, but he … just couldn’t make it.

Eugene held on to his wife, embracing her shuddering body as Heinrich watched the gruesome scene. He was stunned, unable to speak.

Heinrich’s entire approach to life changed that night. He was determined to make his father proud of him and try somehow to fill the family’s terrible void left by his brother’s sudden death.

His diligence and strict attention to his studies throughout college resulted in his finishing in the top ten percent at the University of Pennsylvania’s class of 1953, and he began his studies at the Wharton School of Finance and Commerce in Philadelphia. Inspired by his favorite professor and mentor, Dr. Sidney Bressler, he developed a keen interest in the study of international banking and investment broker strategies. Heinrich’s father, who had been well aware of his younger son’s reputation as a party animal throughout high school, was astounded by his transformation. Heinrich played intramural volleyball in college, but was always the last pick for the team. Gradually, though, he lost weight, and by the time he entered Wharton, he had shed fifty-five pounds. Frequent long walks through Fairmount Park further trimmed his physique. When he began his final year in school, Heinrich Winterbottom’s 5'-6" frame was well-balanced and toned. He weighed a respectable 150 pounds.

A few weeks before graduation he went to the Academy of Music with his best friend and study partner, Jack Benton, for a Philadelphia Orchestra performance of Mozart’s Requiem Mass. He wept openly as the choir solemnly begged god to grant eternal rest to the departed. Then the furious Day of Wrath segment of the Mass, calling all the dead to judgement, sent chills through Heinrich’s body; and when the choir intoned the opening of the Lacrimosa, he smothered his face in his hands and shed his own tears for his brother. The great composer had perfectly captured the essence of Heinrich’s profound sadness, depression and loss.

As they were leaving the Academy, Jack turned and studied his friend’s face.

Ricky, that music seems to have quite overwhelmed you, my friend. Are you all right?

I’ve never had anything like that happen to me before. It’s like Mozart experienced the same agony that my family and I have been suffering. What genius to be able to translate such abysmal sadness and loss into music.

Over the next few years, Heinrich sought every performance of the Mozart Requiem Mass he could find, travelling to New York City, Chicago, Boston, and to cities on the West Coast, and even to Europe, to hear it. His collection of recordings soon included every version of the mysterious Mass by world-class orchestras and chamber ensembles.

When he learned from a fellow student at the university that the first performance of Mozart’s Requiem