*

New Scotland Yard, Westminster, London
Thursday, the 4th July
3:36 p.m.

"So you're telling me, Miss Pallenberg just left?"

"I just did, didn't I?" Keith retorted rolling his eyes, slowly growing tired of the endless questions of the young detective. That his cigarette packet was soon going to run out didn't help his mood either. He just wanted to finish this affair the quickest possible, leave and never think about what happened again.

Though he was sure that forgetting wouldn't be an option. It- Keith shuddered at the thought. No, he told himself, not now. "Listen Anita always has...." Keith stopped and cleared his throat, "had a mind on her own. If she wanted something she got it, one way or another."

The detective nodded and wrote down something on his notepad, Keith now noticed for the first time. "How did she end up back at the house again?"

Keith sighed tiredly, fumbling with his lighter. He didn't want to show it, but the topic of Anita unsettled him deeply... No matter what had happened between them she hadn't deserved this end...  The Valkyrie should have lived on when everyone else had already turned to dust.

"I have no idea, I didn't see her at all until, Amanda-Anna... well Miss Jones found her around 5 in the morning..." Keith nearly whispered, staring down at his lighter that reflected the light of the lamp on the ceiling. It had a strangely calming effect, though Keith could think of something else that would help him calm down far better. 

"So she didn't come back by chance, you two fought, you pushed her and she hit her head by accident?"

Keith wasn't sure if he should laugh or yell at the detective. Neither seemed like the right choice when he just wanted to move on and forget. "If I had wanted to kill Anita I would have done so ages ago and not now, I have no reason and I contrary to everyone else have an alibi. I never was a minute alone!" he exclaimed with a strong voice, eyes fixed on the young detective, who once more wrote something down. 

"I'm only doing my job, no need to get agressive, Mr Richards. So can you tell me what happened when Miss Jones explained to you all what this dinner really was about?"

"We were all fucking excited, what do you think?" Keith snorted.

*
Cothford farm, Hartfield, East Sussex.
Tuesday, the 2nd July
7:03 p.m

If Keith ever made a list of people he never wanted to see again in his life he would have put 75% of the guests down on it- well maybe not exactly 75%, he could care less about Anna, he hardly knew Miss Jones or Janet, he actually liked Charlie and Anita was missing, who definitely would have scored a high rank on that list.

As would the others, beside Mick, maybe. They weren't on the best terms, but Keith could tolerate him contrary to the other two people in the room.

Mr. Get-It-Together & Frank Thorogood, the guy that had worked for him and Brian later on...

The tension in the room could have been cut by a knife or by Miss Jones bright smile apparently. 

"Now that we're all here, I have the pleasure to announce you the details of this get together. Please ask your questions after the explanations. I'm going to translate everything for Miss Wohlin as well."

Keith doubted they needed any explanation though. The setting, the date, the people... It was obvious what this was about or rather who this was about and Keith's feeling to run after Anita and spend the evening with her trying to get away from here grew stronger and stronger by the second. The heavy rain that he could hear fall outside and the thunder probably made far better company...

"Mr Lewis is a huge fan of the Rolling Stones, mainly of Mr. Jones, whose death he took very badly and especially the mysterious circumstances under which Mr Jones found his demise didn't sit well with Mr Lewis. For 20 years he has been leading his own investigation and before he is going to make his results public, he wanted to share them with you. Everyone, present today is linked in one way or another to Mr Jones' death and therefore might be able to fill in some blanks."

Nobody dared to say anything as Miss Jones translated her speech into Swedish. Keith wondered for a moment how long Mr Lewis had to look for an assistant that was named Jones and spoke English and Swedish fluently, but that probably was his least worry now. Then again he had nothing to do with Brian's death either nor did he really care how the other guitarist had died. Keith just wanted to get rid of the shadow that was Brian that always lurked above their band. 

It has been 20 years since he died. 20 fucking years in which they recorded some of their greatest songs and albums and that without the input of the blond. If not, they had been even more successful without him than they had been with him. The Rolling Stones were more than Brian Jones, Keith thought as he lid another cigarette. 

"Brian was killed." Anna's English hadn't improved, it probably only had gotten worse over time. Her words didn't miss its target though, even if the treat was empty. It was common knowledge that she had been on the telephone, when Brian met his end and couldn't know what actually had happened.

"He was drunk and drowned..."Tom retorted naturally. 

It was odd to think that Mick and Keith had begged him to work for them when they first met him and later had gotten rid of him as fast as they could. Tom had "fixed" so much for them, funny that it now all came back to bite them in the arse. If Tom hadn't tried to "fix" Brian's death, maybe nothing would have ever gotten out of it.

"No! He didn't do drugs anymore," Anna retorted angrily. Keith nearly pitied how naive she still was after all these years, but some people never learned anything.

"He-"

"There's no need to fight, Mr Lewis didn't invite you to accuse one another, but to share his theory with you and naturally would then like some input from you." Miss Jones interrupted Tom. "He doesn't want to make a mistake after all. Every single one of you is important for this dinner and will get a chance to express themselves. Mr Lewis is currently preparing everything upstairs and will get to us at 8 o' clock until then you're of course free to enjoy something to drink from the kitchen and before anyone asks, leaving is sadly no option. The telephone stopped working earlier and the drivers are not supposed to get back before midnight. I'm deeply  sorry, but hopefully everyone will still be able to enjoy this evening. Mr Lewis went to great lengths to put everything together."

Nobody spoke to each other, as they left for the kitchen to get something to drink, beside Mick who was bluntly flirting with Miss Jones, not caring that he was old enough to be her father.

He wasn't very successful anyway. Miss Jones clearly avoided him. Embarrassed though.

Keith suspected that she was younger than she looked. He had given her 25 at most, but the way she handled Mick made her look 17 or 18, or maybe she simply wasn't experienced all that much. It seemed highly unlikely though, she was a pretty girl and Keith couldn't imagine that nobody had tried to score her before. 

He shock his head. Did it really matter? He had other worries now. He was at a dinner he didn't want to be and couldn't leave until some psychotic fan had presented them whatever new theory they had come up with. 

Of course he had found Brian's death odd too at first, Brian was the best swimmer he knew and for him to simply drown... it had sounded so fake, but Brian... he- a lot of things could have happened and in the end Keith had accepted it as a tragic accident and nothing more. 

He sat down on the couch next to Charlie, who was by far his favourite person here, even if that probably didn't mean much... He didn't even understand why Charlie was even here, the drummer couldn't hurt a fly and surely had nothing to do with Brian's death... and if Mr Lewis had wanted to invite the whole band, why hadn't Bill got an invitation then?

"Do you really think this Mr Lewis found out how Brian died?" Charlie suddenly asked tearing Keith out of his thoughts.

"Don't tell me you're worried about that."

Charlie shock his head. "No, but to know the truth would be nice. I mean Brian deserves that much..."

"Maybe..." Keith mumbled and took a sip out of his glass. At least the whisky was good, he thought as he laid back in to the couch.

The room was filled with silence once more beside the ticking of the grandfather clock and the storm that still raged outside. 

*

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