An Open Book (5 page)

“I’m sure she would disapprove of my adding some pertinent details, but they are essential
if I’m to explain what happened. I ask only that you don’t share them too widely among
those who knew her.”

Vanessa was clearly getting impatient. “Mr. Fairfield, we aren’t in the habit of sharing
confidential information around here. If you have something to tell us that will help
us understand Edith’s death, could you please get to the point?”

Edward nodded gently, then looked at each of us in turn. “I will trust to your discretion.
There are a few facts that you did not know about Edith: she did have a child, and
as a result, she had surviving relatives, although she was probably not aware of them
until quite recently. Young Philip here is the youngest of that line.” He paused to
gauge our reactions.

I had to say I was surprised and yet not surprised. Edith had always been a private
person, polite and affable, but reluctant to share many personal details. I had written
that off to the mores of an earlier generation, but it had never occurred to me that
she had any secrets—certainly none as significant as an unmentioned child. “I hope
you’ll explain?”

“Of course. I met Edith when she was seventeen, and she was lovely. She had just graduated
from high school, and she had the world ahead of her. It was 1944, and the war was
still going on. I know you’re too young to really understand the
intensity
of the time, but believe me, it was a very unusual time. I was about to be shipped
overseas very shortly, and I was staying with my uncle in Strathmere for a couple
of days. A friend in the same situation suggested I come along to a party that a friend
of his was throwing in town. That’s where I met Edith. I wouldn’t go so far as to
say we fell in love, but there was an undeniable attraction. For the next week we
were inseparable, all the more so because we both knew it wouldn’t last. But that
was how things were in those days.

“As you might guess, the inevitable happened. Neither of us regretted it, and we parted
on good terms. We never corresponded, and I never thought to look her up when I returned,
nor did she try to contact me. I filed our brief time together as a happy memory and
went on with my life.”

“I assume she was pregnant when you left?” I asked the obvious question, although
it was hard for me to reconcile the Edith I had known with Edward’s description of
her.

“She was, though of course she didn’t know it then, and she never informed me. You
younger people don’t know the stigma of an illegitimate child in the forties, although
of course there were many conceived under such circumstances, especially during wartime.
She did not seek my help, although I would most certainly have offered it had I known.
Instead, I went on in happy ignorance until this young man here approached me a month
ago.” He nodded toward Philip. “Will you tell them how that came about?”

Philip blushed and cleared his throat. “I feel bad that I started all this, but here’s
how it happened. I’m a senior in high school, outside of Cleveland, and we had a research
assignment to put together a family tree. We were supposed to get an oral history—you
know, talk to our families and see what they knew—and then add whatever we could find
online. Part of the project was to see how oral histories differed from documented
history; kind of cool, actually, because people’s stories get kind of garbled over
time. Anyway, I asked my mom and dad to tell me about their parents—where they were
born, where they met, that kind of stuff. My mom’s family was pretty simple, and I
got copies of things like birth certificates and marriage licenses for them where
I could. On my dad’s side, things were harder. My grandma Sylvia passed away a couple
of years ago, from cancer, and when I talked to my grandpa George, he was kind of
clueless. He knew she had been adopted, but back in those days nobody would let you
look at the records, you know?”

I nodded my encouragement. “But things have become a lot more open recently, right?
So I take it you followed up?”

He ducked his head. “Yeah. I like to finish what I start, and my teacher said it would
be a good thing to follow through and tie up loose ends if I could. So I started looking
online and writing people, and finally I found a record of who had adopted my grandmother,
and then I got a look at her birth certificate.”

“I thought that was still difficult these days?” I said.

“It is.” He blushed again and twisted his hands. “It wasn’t totally on the up-and-up.
I don’t want to get anyone in trouble, but I kind of talked with the people at the
records offices and they let me sneak a peek. They wouldn’t let me make any copies,
so I just took notes.”

I looked at him critically: he was a fairly attractive young man, and he came across
as shy and polite. I could see how town clerks would feel sorry for a charming and
bashful young man when he explained what he wanted. “That was nice of them. So, what
did you find?”

“My grandma’s birth certificate—Sylvia Mercer. It listed both parents, Edward Fairfield
and Edith Mercer, but since the Mercer name came from her mom I kinda guessed they
hadn’t been married, particularly when I put that together with the adoption, and
that was why Grandma had never talked about it. I’m not even sure what she knew—Grandma
was given up when she was only a couple of days old.”

He really was a bright and enterprising young man, to have found so much, so quickly.
“What did you do next?”

“Well, I had two names to work with from the certificate. I thought Edith Mercer had
probably gotten married later, so she would have a different surname and be harder
to find, so I went looking for Edward Fairfield. And I found him.” He glanced quickly
at Edward, seated beside him. “I mean, I was really surprised, because they were so
old. Who would have thought they’d both still be around?”

“Where do you live, Edward?” Vanessa asked.

“Not far from Cincinnati,” he said absently. “Go on, Philip.”

Philip complied. “I got lucky, because Mr. Fairfield here still lived in Ohio. It
would have been harder if he’d lived in California or something, because no way could
I get there and do this kind of searching.”

“I ended up in Ohio when I returned from the war,” Edward said to Vanessa and me.
“I used the GI Bill for a few years of college, married, settled down, had a family.
Young Philip here has more relatives than he expected.”

“How did your family take it, when this kid they didn’t know about showed up on your
doorstep?” Vanessa demanded.

“I was as surprised as anyone, you know. But all this happened a long time ago, and
they welcomed Philip—which I suspect has a lot to do with his charm.” He smiled fondly
at his great-grandson, who blushed yet again and looked at his feet.

“Still, it must have been kind of a shock to you when he showed up, wasn’t it, Mr.
Fairfield?” I said.

Edward nodded, with a small smile. “Of course. I’m already a great-grandfather several
times over, but Philip’s arrival was indeed a surprise. But a happy one, let me assure
you. He’s met the rest of my family—I live with one of my daughters now—and they have
been quite welcoming.”

Vanessa cleared her throat. “So, the kid here talked you into coming to look for Edith?”

Both Edward and Philip nodded. “As he told you, Philip had her maiden name Mercer
from the birth certificate,” Edward said. “I told him where she had been living when
I knew her, and Philip was able to track down a Pennsylvania marriage license for
Edith Mercer and Robert Hathaway. I gather she and her husband remained here after
they married.”

I nodded. “They did, and she stayed on after he . . . was gone.” Why are there no
terms for death that sound neither silly nor cruel? “She was a very independent person,
you know.”

Edward smiled sadly. “She always was, else we would not be here now.”

Laura Johnson poked her head in anxiously. “Everything all right in here?” she said.

“Just fine, my dear. We were explaining to these ladies how Philip found me. And we
were just getting to the point of how we located Edith.”

Laura looked blankly at him. “Edith?”

Edward looked distressed. “Oh, dear—I hadn’t realized . . . perhaps you could explain?”
He looked at Vanessa.

Vanessa once again assumed her professional voice. “Mrs. Johnson, the purpose of our
trip here today was to find out if you knew anything about the death of Edith Hathaway
on the hill behind your property.”

“What? Oh my goodness!”

“You weren’t aware of this?” Vanessa pressed.

“No, I hadn’t heard . . . When did this happen?”

“Yesterday afternoon, when you said you were at the mall. I assume the coroner and
his crew had left by the time you and your family returned home?”

Laura was clearly having trouble processing what she was hearing. “There was nothing
unusual here when we came home, and then I sent the kids upstairs and we sat in the
living room . . . Uncle Edward, did you know? Why didn’t you say anything?”

Edward had aged perceptibly, and I felt sorry for him. “I was so stunned by what happened
that I didn’t know what to do. This community is unfamiliar to me, and I had Philip
here to consider. I owe you an apology, Laura. But may I complete this interview and
fill you in on the details later?”

“All right, I guess,” Laura muttered. “But I’m staying. I’ll let you speak.” She looked
at Vanessa to see if she would challenge her right to be here, but luckily Vanessa
only shrugged. The so-called interview was already so far from standard that one more
participant wouldn’t make a lot of difference, I figured. “How are you related to
Laura, Mr. Fairfield?” Vanessa asked.

“She is a first cousin, twice removed, descended from that uncle that I mentioned.
Her grandmother inherited the house from my uncle, and the family has lived here all
along. I’m afraid we’ve rather imposed on her, especially since we’ve really only
met once or twice over the years.”

“And you were staying in this house while you waited to ship out?” Vanessa asked,
making a note in her notebook.

“Yes. In 1944 it belonged to my uncle. It was more convenient to the Philadelphia
Navy Yard than my parents’ home in Pittsburgh. That’s how I happened to be here when
my friend threw that party—sort of a farewell event.”

“And how did you talk Laura into letting you stay here now?” Vanessa demanded.

Edward sighed. “If you’re asking, no, I didn’t tell her the full story. I said that
at my advanced age, I wanted to visit all my far-flung relatives one last time, and
revisit places I had once known. I suppose I made her feel guilty, but she was kind
enough to invite me to stay. I do apologize for misleading you, Laura,” he said to
her. She just shook her head.

“How did you explain Philip?” I asked.

“I told Laura that Philip was one of my great-grandsons, which is true, and said we
could share a room.”

“You two couldn’t have stayed in a motel?” Vanessa asked.

“I had a particular reason for wanting to stay here, as you’ll see,” Edward replied.

“Laura didn’t know about Edith?”

“That we were once lovers, or that she died up on that hill?”

Laura’s eyes widened at that, but she held her tongue.

“Either. Both.” Vanessa definitely appeared frustrated at the slow pace of Edward’s
replies.

“No, not yet. I would have explained the connection to Laura, were it not for unexpected
events. I wanted to make sure Edith didn’t object.”

“Where were you yesterday?” I asked Philip.

“I picked up Mrs. Hathaway at her house and brought her here. Then Mr. Fairfield asked
if maybe I might like to do some sightseeing, since I’ve never been to Pennsylvania
before. But I knew he really wanted some time alone with Mrs. Hathaway, and I wanted
to give them some privacy.” The poor boy looked miserable; obviously his high school
project hadn’t turned out the way he had expected.

“Hold on,” Vanessa said. “You’d already met Mrs. Hathaway? Because I don’t see her
getting into a car with some kid she’s never seen before.”

Edward interrupted, “Chief Hutchins, please, may I go on with the story?” “Your questions
will be answered, I promise.”

“In a minute,” Vanessa said. “Why’d you bring Edith here? Why not just go to her house
and talk with her there?”

“A fair question. This was where I was staying when Edith and I . . . came together.
So many years ago . . .” He seemed to be drifting into memories, and I had to wonder
how much stamina he had.

I could tell that Vanessa was getting more and more impatient. “Okay, so you two show
up here in Strathmere. Did you go straight to Edith and introduce yourselves?”

Philip spoke up. “Uh, not exactly. Mr. Fairfield here thought it might be less of
a shock if I showed up and talked to her first. He wasn’t sure if she’d be happy to
see him. So that’s what I did.”

“How did she take it?” I asked.

“Fine, really. She asked me in, and we spent a lot of time talking. I was surprised
how honest she was, since she didn’t even know me. She said she’d often thought about
the baby she gave away, but she still figured she did the right thing. She wasn’t
sure if Mr. Fairfield would come back, either to her, or at all, after the war. She
wasn’t mad or anything—I mean, they’d only known each other a week. I think she was
sorry that she and her husband never had kids, but she didn’t say so. Anyway, we got
along great.”

I could imagine Edith finding pleasure in that unlikely scene, and realized that the
incongruous sodas in her refrigerator had probably been meant for Philip. But I kept
silent: I had the feeling we were getting to the important part at long last.

Vanessa apparently agreed. “So you told Edith about Mr. Fairfield, and you all got
together here?”

“Yeah. Mrs. Hathaway handled the news pretty well, so I told her that Mr. Fairfield
was still alive, and I asked her if she wanted to see him again, and that if she did,
he was here in town at his uncle’s old house. She looked surprised, and then she asked
if she could think about it—alone. I said sure, fine, and I came back here and waited
for her to call me.”