100 Ways to Solve a Murder-Chapter 152: Monica Murdoch

Levi walked into 7 Eastbourne that late afternoon; upon his entrance in the small building’s main door, he immediately heard Mrs. Whitehall’s familiar voice. His brows furrowed in both annoyance and curiosity; she was laughing, as to why he doesn’t know. But in his opinion, it sounded like she was torturing their neighbor’s corgis. But what caught his interest most was the fact that her laughter was coming from HIS flat upstairs.

He shook his head for a moment and turned right to enter the agency door; his eyes landed on the boys. All of them sat on their desks with either writing on files or talking to someone through the phone. Their brows furrowed in concentration; everyone was busy. To the slicked blond, that was a good sign; money was coming in thanks to the leprechaun gods. He and Marco had even been considering employing a new person to help with the boys’ work. Hopefully, it will help lighten the load on each of them.

However, as fortunate as they were that clients kept coming to their door, it was unfortunate for the Irishman that cases he considered interesting were rare. And he had to depend on Davies’ cases for mental entertainment. Levi turned to Mike, "I’ll be upstairs. Call me if you need me." he said, earning a curt nod, and he exited back out of the door and climbed up to his flat.

COnfirming that the laughing was coming from his flat, his eyes narrowed at the door, and he entered. Eyes rested on his housekeeper and a woman in her late 70’s. The two older women were seated on his sofa and having tea.

Mrs. Whitehall turned to the door when she heard it swing open, and she smiled. "Levi, wonderful you’re back," she said, a cup of tea in hand. The Irishman shrugged his coat, ignoring his housekeeper; he was not in the mood for company.

He turned impassively to look at Mrs. Whitehall and the stranger in his living room. He was about to utter "Do Tea parties in your flat, Mrs. Whitehall!" when the flabby old woman recognized the annoyed look on his face and interrupted him by saying, "This is Mrs. Murdoch." and she shot him a warning look. Levi closed his mouth immediately, and he froze on his spot before he started an ungraceful rant.

His hazel eyes studied the woman sitting on his couch, graying shoulder-length hair. She had a hand of a gardener and the stature of an Orchestra player--Piano. He could tell she was in her late 70’s. She was old, too old to be Jason Murdoch’s wife if he even had any. He frowned; he’d seen that woman before, but where?

His brain raced for an answer, then it hit him, a photo flashing in his mind, a picture on Sam’s office table. The redhead was wearing a toga in her teens, smiling with a woman and a man in their 50’s. Behind them was Caltech’s Millikan building.

"Sam’s grandmother." Levi and Mrs. Whitehall said in unison.

Monica Murdoch smiled up at the tall Irishman; she found him too posh-looking for her taste, yet undeniably handsome. He had a set of full blond hair and a striking set of eyes, and a chiseled jaw. He had a good posture in him, which the older woman found attractive.

Levi extended his hand to Monica, which she took happily, "Levi Jackson, pleasure." He said, giving her his signature smile. His day just got interesting, he thought.

Monica smiled at him, "I know, it’s good to meet you finally. Monica Murdoch, Sammy’s grandma." She said, smiling, a smile that reminded him of Sam’s.

As intrigued as he was that the woman was there, Levi silently wondered what she was doing there in the first place. Based on the small luggage sitting on the corner of his living room, the older woman recently arrived straight from LA.

Levi sat and accepted the tea Mrs. Whitehall offered, and the two shared trivial pleasantries. And when Mrs. Whitehall excused herself, the slicked blond turned to look at the woman sitting across him, "How can I be of assistance, Mrs. Murdoch?" he asked, feigning more interest than usual. He knew she came there for a reason.

"Just Monica or Nana, Dear. No need to be so formal--you are dating my granddaughter after all", the woman spoke gently, earning a wide smile from the slicked blond. How could he forget, yes, he was ’dating’ the redhead--something he plots to make a reality, and he reckoned that making sure her grandmother felt welcome would help his case.

Subconsciously the Irishman took notes on the woman; something was calming about her presence. It was the fact that the words that came out of her mouth were filled with confidence; she didn’t fumble with her words or think her thoughts over. Making Levi believe she was as blunt as they come.

"Monica, then," Levi replied, smiling. Causing the older woman to laugh gently amused at his response, she found him earnest, even though he wore a constant smile on his face.

Monica explained that she planned on surprising Sam, and she thought she’d show up in her boyfriend’s apartment--knowing full well of the ’couple’s’ Saturday date night from none other than Elle Hart.

Mrs. Whitehall returned minutes later, and the two older women shared stories while Levi sat at his desk, reading through some of his emails. Hoping he’d receive something exciting.

"It was only a few years later when she moved in with us that my late husband and I noticed that Sammy was not a normal child. She would do jigsaw puzzles inverted - assembling the brown cardboard shapes without the pictures - because it was more challenging." Monica shared while Levi sat quietly, listening secretly at their conversation--which was unlike him. Childhood stories are useless information, yet he absorbed and imagined it, even comparing it with his own, and collecting more blocks for her psychological profile in his mind.

Monica continued with her story, happy to have someone to share stories about her beloved granddaughter. "In fact, for every game she played, she compulsively invented new rules, usually coherent, and entertaining -- which her Doctor assured was normal with other very bright children." Mrs. Whitehall listened attentively while she chewed on some biscuits.

"She would arrange sponge numbers--later my late husband figured out to actually be a mathematical formula. She memorized statistics and had shown great musical talent--" Monica continued sighing at the memory, and she smiled sadly at Mrs. Whitehall. "I secretly wished for her to be more like me--but then, she took after her grandfather who was a Doctor himself," she added. Her two boys, Jason and Christian, were both geniuses. Both grew up successful in their own chosen fields; sadly, both also died young.

"For a few weeks, we put her on the computer to watch Tom &Jerry because we didn’t have a kids channel at the time," Monica said, smiling at the memory. "When we came back to her, we found she was navigating around the website. At first, we thought she was just clicking on the pictures that she liked, but we realized she had taught herself to read the text and follow instructions."

Monica enthusiastically shared her tales of Sam, and Mrs. Whitehall listened commenting once in a while--with under an hour, the two older women seemed to be best of friends. While Levi started to tune in and out of their conversation as she read the news online, hoping to find something intriguing, a serial murder perhaps.

"And she had these unusual hobbies--insects, dead frogs--even begging to be her grandfather’s assistant in the clinic. We thought she wanted to be a doctor and save lives; only she actually wanted to memorize human anatomy. My late husband was ecstatic when she confessed she wanted to be a Forensic Pathologist", Monica said, slightly saddened at the memory. She was only 8, and she imagined herself cutting corpses open. Her tone caught the slicked blond’s attention.

"You didn’t approve," he commented from his seat, causing the two older women to turn to him--since he hadn’t spoken a word for the past half hour.

Monica looked at Levi, "I wanted her to be just like us, normal..." Monica admitted, causing Levi’s eyes to narrow in annoyance. He didn’t like normal; normal to him was an insult, and so, he opened his mouth to utter some type of comment, ’dull’ ’boring’ or ’how predictable.’ But she continued to speak, "But she wasn’t...normal." she said, a smile tugging in her lips.

And her eyes glinted with pride and joy in them, "She was extraordinary." She expressed proudly.

Levi leaned back to his chair, thinking, ’she’s not so bad.’

Clad in a pair of jeans, a black shirt, and sneakers, Sam Gray jogged up the blond psychologist’s flat carrying snacks. It was just an hour ago when he had received a message from him asking if she could drop by that evening. Since her assistant did not give her much to work on for the day, resulting in her finishing her work earlier than usual; thus, she agreed to drop by.

But before going to Eastbourne Rd, she dropped by a nearby grocery store to replace the snacks she eats in his place without even asking. She knew well enough that the slicked blond didn’t eat much sweets, yet his refrigerator was always stocked with ice creams and coke. And so she knew it was only right for her to replace it once in a while. She was just a guest, after all.

"Levi," she called halfway up the stairs, "Did you hear what happened to Fletcher?" she asked as she swung the door open, her eyes landing immediately on the familiar blond.

"I heard from Jones that--" she said, only falling into silence when she noticed a familiar gray-haired woman sitting on his sofa, right beside Mrs. Hudson.

"NANA!" she exclaimed, surprised.

"Sammy!" the old woman cheered, arms open, inviting a hug. Sam dropped her groceries on the floor and hurried to the older woman. Enveloping her into a warm embrace. "Surprise!" the woman said, earning a chuckle from the redhead. "Indeed!" Sam replied, pulling away to look at her if she was real or if she was imagining her. Was she missing her so much that she had imagined her grandmother? Didn’t she just speak with her just yesterday on the phone asking how she was?

Seeing as the woman before her was real, Sam pulled her again into a tight embrace. "you’re here." she muttered, melting into her familiar arms. Her grandmother’s minty scent reminded her of her childhood. Her arms were always there for her when she needed someone.

Tripping over or hurting herself, her grandmother was there to patch her up.

She was the closest thing she had for a mother growing up, and still, she spoiled her rotten like her grandfather did.

"I’m here," Monica said, relieved to see that her granddaughter was healthy, and by the glint in her eyes, she was happy.

When realization dawned on her, Sam shot Levi with a look of confusion, wondering if he had been on it from the beginning. How long had he been aware? She doesn’t know, but she’ll find out soon enough.

"When did you arrive?" Sam asked, "Just a few hours ago, dear. Im fine." Monica answered, knowing the redhead would insist she take a rest. "I’m so glad to see you, Nana," Sam said, as she sat beside the woman on the sofa. Mrs. Whitehall smiled fondly at the two while Levi grabbed her groceries on the floor and put it away in the kitchen.

Minutes later, Sam invited her grandmother to rest at her place, and the older woman happily agreed. Bill helped carry the woman’s belongings to the car, while Sam said her goodbyes to the slicked blond by the foot of the door. Monica watched the two’s quiet exchange, and she smiled when she saw her granddaughter peck the slicked blond’s cheek.

Monica turned to Mrs. Whitehall, "I can’t wait for great-grandchildren." she said, causing Sam to whiplash and smile awkwardly at her. While Levi grinned mischievously and placed an arm around the redhead’s shoulder as he walked them out the door. "They’ll be lovely," he said, causing the two older women to cheer, enthused at his statement.

On the other hand, Sam leaned closer to the psychologist and said, "Shut up."