“That was Eric,” Hailey said, pulling out her own notes. “Ian was almost word for word the same-‘If you kill the people he loves and hide the bodies, you kidnap them and never let them be found-you make him wonder if they’re alive or dead, if he’ll ever see them again, and he starts to think about what might be happening to them. Then your enemy suffers all his life. Nothing you could do to him is worse than that. Nothing.’”
“O’Connor once told me that when he heard those statements, he wondered if he could have become Mitch Yeager’s enemy before he was eighteen,” I said.
“He was seventeen when his sister disappeared,” Ethan said. “I spent some time reading about that today. But what could he have done to harm Mitch Yeager?”
“He was a reporter,” Hailey said. “He could have written something to harm Yeager’s businesses.”
“None of his early stories were about Yeager,” Ethan said. “He seldom had any stories published with a byline until late 1945.”
“You’re the expert on O’Connor, all right,” Hailey said.
Ethan looked mortified.
“Grow up or go upstairs,” I snapped at Hailey.
She cast a dark look at Ethan, as though he were to blame for my loss of temper.
“Ethan’s right,” I said. “O’Connor didn’t cause problems for Mitch Yeager as a reporter. He caused them for him when he was a child. A paperboy. He stood on a street corner after school each day and hawked newspapers. He managed to sneak into a courtroom gallery in 1936 and observe some jury tampering. He didn’t know it by that name, of course. He just saw one of Yeager’s louts obviously threatening someone who looked like the brother of a juror. He told his hero about it.”
“Jack Corrigan,” Ethan said.
“Yes,” I said, surprised.
“I-I saw one of the columns…”
I thought his courage was going to desert him, but he seemed to take hold of it again. He lifted his chin a bit and said, “I saw the tribute to Corrigan he wrote just after Corrigan died, so I know Corrigan was his mentor. You say O’Connor was Corrigan’s source for the jury-tampering story-did Yeager know that?”
“Yes. As a kid, O’Connor wrote little news stories that he gave to Jack. I’ve got those papers now. One tells of a ‘copper’ keeping an eye on him and protecting him from Yeager’s men. And of Yeager coming by one day and scowling at him. So somehow, Yeager must have heard of O’Connor. Maybe the man who was intimidating the juror figured out O’Connor was both in the gallery that day and connected with the Express. Or Thelma Ducane might have let word slip.”
“Okay…Mitch Yeager might blame O’Connor for the jury-tampering charge,” Hailey said. “Would he be involved in the death of O’Connor’s sister over that?”
“No, not just that. From the articles I’ve been looking into down here, and what I’ve read from O’Connor’s papers, here’s what I know-Mitch’s brother, Adam, was in prison while he was on trial. Granville, who had taken Mitch and Adam in when they were orphaned as kids, had died just a few months before-some said that Adam’s arrest had been too much for the old man to take. Adam and Mitch were, by all accounts, very close. So Mitch probably lays the arrest of his brother and the death of his grandfather at the door of Jack Corrigan-whose articles probably did have a lot to do with the investigations that led to the Yeagers’ arrests.”
“It’s not like Corrigan committed the crimes,” Hailey said.
“Yeager wouldn’t be the first to blame other people for what were really the consequences of his own actions. So while he’s on trial, Jack is in the courtroom every day, gloating, no doubt. You would have to know Jack Corrigan to know how well he could do that. The woman Mitch had been seeing, perhaps hoped to marry-to bring himself up in social standing if nothing else-was sitting at Jack Corrigan’s side and flirting with Jack during the trial.”
“Who?” Hailey asked.
“Lillian Vanderveer. Now Lillian Linworth.”
“Shut up!” she said in disbelief. “He wanted her?”
“She was a society beauty. You’ll be lucky to age as well as she has.”
“I’m beginning to see what you mean,” Ethan said. “It wasn’t just time and money lost to a legal hassle.”
“I think the worst of it for Mitch was that Adam became seriously ill with tuberculosis while he was in prison. Mitch wasn’t allowed to visit him, because the tampering charges caused his bail to be revoked.”
“So his brother is dying, his bail’s revoked, and though he owns a lot of assets, he doesn’t have much cash,” Ethan said.
“Right. And all the legal work for the family grows expensive. He’s had to sell assets already, and now he has to raise more money. He eventually goes free, but in the meantime his brother has died, his reputation is shot, and the best of his assets have gone to people who snub him. He’s left with the care of his brother’s widow and children, estate taxes, and an inheritance he’s been unable to properly manage while he’s dealt with his legal problems.”
“And it takes him a few years to get back on his feet,” Hailey said.
“Yes, and to reestablish himself in Las Piernas society. Did you find out the date of his marriage to Estelle?”
“He married her in June 1945. He eventually took over her father’s businesses, which increased his wealth enormously. His own businesses were doing much better then, so he didn’t come to her poor. He didn’t make the kind of money Linworth and Ducane made in the late 1930s-but he was better at manipulating. From what I could learn, he maneuvered them into positions where they had to come to him for supplies. Eventually, they were all doing a lot of business with one another.”
“When was the engagement announced?” I asked.
She looked through her notes. “March. There was a notice in the Society pages on March 23, 1945.”
“Two weeks before O’Connor’s sister was murdered,” I said. “I wonder if getting engaged to Estelle made him think about losing his chance with Lillian. And around that time the Express carried a story about how effective the new treatments for TB were.”
“Maybe it wasn’t as complicated as that,” Ethan said. “Maybe he was just biding his time, making sure that no one would see it as retaliation. If he had killed O’Connor’s sister right after the jury-tampering conviction was overturned, he would have been caught.”
“Do you really think Yeager is the one who killed her?” Hailey asked me.
“You mean, killed her himself rather than arranging it? I don’t know. Eric and Ian wouldn’t have been very old-not even out of grade school-so they didn’t help him. There’s this whole question of Harmon, though-or so I thought until the DNA came back.”
“No DNA samples on file for Mitch Yeager?” Ethan asked.
“No.”
“Too bad.”
“Why bother anyway?” Hailey said. “He’s so old, people won’t want him to go to jail. There are people who don’t want old Nazis to be punished. We don’t stand a chance. He’s going to throw a big old pity party for himself and people will buy into it. ‘I’m an old, old man who has served the community and the paper has always hated me.’ People will feel sorry for him. They won’t care about the dead.”
“It’s our job to make them care,” Ethan said. “To show them why they should. It shouldn’t be hard to do that, especially if he arranged the murder of a child. People want to see wrongdoing punished.”
“Well,” she said, staring right at him, “some people are found guilty of wrongdoing, and the world just seems to let them off with a slap on the wrist.”
That arrow found its mark, not surprisingly. He gathered his papers. He said to me, his voice not quite steady, “Forgive me-I’m not giving up, but I think we’ll have to talk more another time.”