your friend’s situation as unfortunate, of course.” He shifted to a sympathetic tone. “To be quite frank, it’s one that often brings unwanted children to our doorstep. While a mother’s change of heart isn’t unreasonable, it simply strikes too late at times.”
Lily scrambled to recover her voice, hindered by resonance to her own past. “But that’s not it. That isn’t what happened.”
He lifted a brow, a sign of intrigue. “You’re saying…your friend’s son was stolen without her knowing?”
“Not…exactly, no. But she was ill when she gave him up, and now… This is all a mistake.” She could hear her own franticness, which only intensified as she grasped the condemning nature of her own argument. “Please, if you’ll allow me to explain.”
He opened his mouth to respond, but then his gaze shot to the doorway. “Yes, Mildred?”
“Sir, there’s squabblin’ in the dining room. You said if Freddy got to actin’ up again—”
“Yes, yes. I’ll handle it personally.” The director was already on his feet when he returned his attention to Lily. “I do wish I could have been more helpful to your friend. Please tell her that Calvin is now in very good hands.”
Lily stood up, tempted to block him from leaving. “Mr. Lowell, if you could just let me know who adopted him. Perhaps they would understand.”
“Our records are strictly confidential, for the sake of the parents as much as the children. Now, if you’ll excuse me—”
“Couldn’t you make an exception, this one time? I’m begging you.”
His lips became a firm line, his nostrils flaring in annoyance, perhaps over the delay or from having to repeat himself. There was no longer a dash of handsomeness about him. “I don’t ascribe to exceptions, and I believe those of strong moral fiber should not either. As I was saying, Mildred will kindly see you out.”
Short of grabbing his leg, Lily could think of no way to stop him as he whisked past her and out the door. The only thing keeping tears from pouring rivulets down her face was the shock she was still absorbing.
And the sight of the files.
On his desk.
Within reach.
“Miss?”
The address was for Lily, an ushering toward the exit. She detected urgency from Mildred. Upon returning, her boss wouldn’t appreciate discovering his order unheeded.
Lily acquiesced—what else could she do?—and trailed the woman out.
But she would be back.
And somehow, she would find the information she needed.
Chapter 35
As a newspaperman, Ellis was fully aware how often bodies were fished out of the Hudson. One of the uglier effects of Prohibition. He’d seen the photos too gruesome to publish: the bloated limbs, the tattered skin, the empty sockets.
In the back seat of a Packard now, he batted away visions of himself as a lifeless heap. It was harder to do on a wordless ride with two Mafia types up front. Neither had given hints of destination or purpose. Just patted him down before trapping him inside.
To stave off panic, Ellis remained a reporter. He observed and deduced, forging a distance from the situation.
When Sylvia had voiced her ultimatum, she didn’t specify a deadline. Maybe today was the day, and her husband’s buddies were tasked with ensuring the right answer. Maybe they were about to eliminate the need for an answer at all.
“Any chance of clueing me in, gentlemen? I could save us time if you told me what you wanted.” It was worth another try. But the pockmarked man kept right on driving. The heftier one just puffed on his cigarette with the windows closed. Ellis suppressed a cough, relying on tolerance from the paper’s daily haze.
A glance out the window said they were still in New York. The Bronx, in fact. And it dawned on Ellis that they were heading to his own apartment. Not a bad idea, if the plan were to stage an accident. A fatal slip in a bathtub, a tragic fall from a window.
At least his parked car across from the paper would serve as a telling clue.
Unless it was moved.
Ellis pushed down a swallow. The air turned thick as sludge.
Then came a jolt. A tap to the brakes slowed them just enough to cut a left into an alley, and the car rolled to a stop. Both escorts opened their doors and stepped out.
“Let’s go,” the driver told Ellis.
Yesterday, a guard had used the same order to prod Ellis from his cell. Being back in jail had striking new appeal.
Out of the car, he noted a door at the top of a metal staircase. He’d been