The Sins of the Fathers

I tried his home and his wife answered. I gave my name and she told me hers. "Mr. Scudder," she said tentatively. "Are you, uh, making any progress?"

"Things are coming along," I said.

"I'll get Cale for you."

When he came on the line I told him I wanted to see him.

"I see. Something you don't want to go into over the telephone?"

"Something like that."

"Well, can you come to Utica? It would be inconvenient for me to come to New York unless it's absolutely necessary, but you could fly up this afternoon or possibly tomorrow. It's not a long flight."

"I know. I'm in Utica right now."

"Oh?"

"I'm in a Rexall drugstore at the corner of Jefferson and Mohawk. You could pick me up and we could go over to your office."

"Certainly. Fifteen minutes?"

"Fine."

I recognized his Lincoln and was crossing the sidewalk to it as he pulled up in front of the drugstore. I opened the door and got in next to him. Either he wore a suit around the house as a matter of course or he had taken the trouble to put one on for the occasion. The suit was dark blue with an unobtrusive stripe.

"You should have let me know you were coming," he said. "I could have picked you up at the airport."

"This way I had a chance to see something of your city."

"It's not a bad place. Probably very quiet by New York standards. Though that's not necessarily a bad thing."

"No, it's not."

"Ever been here before?"

"Once, and that was years ago. The local police had picked up someone we wanted, so I came up to take him back to New York with me. I took the train that trip."

"How was your flight today?"

"All right."

He was dying to ask me why I had dropped in on him like this, but he had manners. You didn't discuss business at lunch until the coffee was poured, and we wouldn't discuss our business until we were in his office. The Hanniford Drugs warehouse was on the western edge of town, and he had picked me up right in the heart of the downtown area. We managed small talk on the ride out. He pointed out things he thought might interest me, and I put on a show of being mildly interested.

Then we were at the warehouse. They worked a five-day week and there were no other cars around, just a couple of idle trucks. He pulled the Lincoln to a stop next to a loading dock and led me up a ramp and inside. We walked down a hallway to his office. He turned on the overhead lights, pointed me to a chair, and seated himself behind his desk.

"Well," he said.

I didn't feel tired. It occurred to me that I ought to, no sleep, a lot of booze the night before. But I didn't feel tired. Not eager, either, but not tired.

I said, "I came to report. I know as much about your daughter as I'll ever know, and it's as much as you need to know. I could spend more of my time and your money, but I don't see the point."

"It didn't take you very long."

His tone was neutral, and I wondered how he meant it. Was he admiring my efficiency or annoyed that his two thousand dollars had only purchased five days of my time?

I said, "It took long enough. I don't know that it would have taken any less time if you had given me everything in the beginning. Probably not. It would have made things a little easier for me, though."

"I don't understand."

"I can understand why you didn't. You felt I had all I needed to know. If I had just been looking for facts you might have been right, but I was looking for facts that would make up a picture, and I'd have done better knowing everything in front." He was puzzled, and the heavy dark eyebrows were elevated above the top rims of his glasses. I said, "The reason I didn't let you know I was coming was that I had some things to do in Utica. I caught a dawn flight up here, Mr. Hanniford. I spent about five hours learning things you could have told me five days ago."

"What sort of things?"

"I went to a few places. The Bureau of Vital Statistics in City Hall. The Times-Sentinel offices. The police station."

"I didn't hire you to ask questions here in Utica."

"You didn't hire me at all, Mr. Hanniford. You married your wife on-well, I don't have to tell you the date. It was a first marriage for both of you."

He didn't say anything. He took his glasses off and put them on the desk in front of him.

"You might have told me Wendy was illegitimate."

"Why? She didn't know it herself."

"Are you sure of that?"

"Yes."

"I'm not." I drew a breath. "There were two U.S. Marines from the Utica area killed in the Inchon landing. One of them was black, so I ruled him out. The other was named Robert Blohr. He was married. Was he also Wendy's father?"

"Yes."

"I'm not trying to pick scabs, Mr. Hanniford. I think Wendy knew she was illegitimate. And it's possible that it doesn't matter whether she did or not."