“In her manuscript Beatrice says that you were trying to get Santiago, the young man who worked around the dorm, a job at your father’s factory. I’m wondering if the employee applications from that time would have been kept somewhere?”
“Yes, I believe I told Ginny I’d help him. But you must understand these people were flighty. Workers were always changing jobs, jumping from one place to another for something better. They’d leave you without any remorse, especially the immigrants like him. Or they simply were no good for the job and we had to let them go.”
“There’d be no paperwork? Nothing we could use to findSantiago? Beatrice thought he might have been connected to Ginny’s disappearance, and you said the same.”
“I said they probably ran away together. Betty was the one who always made it into a complicated mystery when it seemed like a simple story.”
“But if he didn’t have a stable job or much money, how far could they have gotten?” Minerva replied. “I feel if we can connect him to her, we’d get somewhere.”
“You’re starting to sound like my late husband. Theories and theories, but nothing solid,” Carolyn said with a smile. “Well, there’s little we can do about it now. What’s left of the factory is a ruin and the records are probably powder in a drawer.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know about the factory,” she said.
“It hardly matters. I want to turn that old site into a high-tech hub. Optical fibers and communications. It’s the future. The next leap for the Wingraves. My father would have wanted it that way,” she said, looking over her shoulder at the portrait of the man with the gray hair. “My great-grandchildren will have something better than a musty old factory. Noah can show you the old site sometime.”
“That would be wonderful, Mrs. Yates. If I might bother you just a minute longer, would you be able to tell me anything about the day Ginny went missing? Did you see her that morning?”
“I didn’t see her. I went skating early that day. When I came back everyone was looking for Virginia. What an awful day that was. We were all so worried. Betty could hardly stop trembling. She was pale, like she’d seen a ghost. Such an awful, awful day.” Carolyn turned to Noah, and her voice had a hitch to it. “I don’t think I’ll be painting today; you can put everything away later.”
Carolyn held out her teacup with all the majestic bearing of a Roman empress. Noah stood up and took it from her hand, placing it back on the table. He sat down again.
Carolyn rubbed her wrist and smiled at Minerva. “Arthritis,” she said. “It flares up. My right foot can be terribly annoying, but the hands ache, too. I still try to paint occasionally. The doctorsinsist it’s good to stay busy and nurture such hobbies. But now I must rest. Since my grandson is looking the part of a gentleman, perhaps he might play the part, as well. Noah, can you drive the young lady back to her dorm?”
“Gladly,” he said.
—
Instead of slipping intothe gleaming white car that had driven them last time, Noah guided her into a red Jeep.
“What happened to the other car?”
“It belongs to Carolyn. She always owns a white car. It’s her favorite color, though she also likes green. I’m not allowed to recklessly drive it. That’s a 1934 Cadillac V-16 Phaeton. Only four thousand were ever made. Joan Crawford had one. Carolyn was very partial to Joan. What do you think of her?”
“She was a good actress.”
“Come on. You know what I mean.”
“She’s interesting,” she said.
He smiled a little. “You don’t need to be polite.”
She did not reply, instead fixing her eyes on the road.
“What do you think of me?” he asked.
“I don’t know you.”
“General impressions.”
You’re a rich boy who does as his grandma says, even putting on a tie and shiny shoes when she demands it,she thought. His smile grew and he gave her a sideways glance, as if he could guess her uncharitable opinion.
“I think you want me to say the wrong thing.”
“You speak like you’re a fencer, parrying blows. Want to see the factory?”
“Can we?” she replied.
He turned the wheel as an answer. They sped in the opposite direction from where they had been heading. Before long, they parked in front of a large building surrounded by a chain-link fence.
