Page 59 of Deadly Misfortunes

Sascha cleared her throat. “It happened with my family. We actually had a family member who was working for the Germans during WWII. He implicated some of the family who were working with the Danish resistance and paid for his traitorous services. The ones he named were rounded up and shot. One of my ancestors who was involved in the resistance, took the traitor out and shot him before he had any more of my ancestors eliminated.”

“Did the traitor’s descendant come back and try to harm any of your family members?” Mr. Landry asked.

Sascha saw that Mr. Landry was very interested in the story, since it was the first time he had really spoken.

“Yes. He was an uncle, seventeen at the time. His side of the family had told every generation about the situation, saying that they were family, and he should never have been shot.”

“But the traitor got your other family members shot,” Mr. Landry said.

“Yes, but I think their version was different than reality. The truth of the matter was that the traitor had written documents that outed several of my family members to the Germans, but it was never delivered. It sits in a museum in Denmark now. So it’s proof he was a traitor to the family.”

Mr. Landry slapped his hands on his knees and frowned. “That’s what happened to our family. Sam wrote several of the resistance members’ names on a piece of paper, extolling the greatness of the Gestapo, and was going to turn it over to them. It ended up in a museum, proof that the resistance had been right in stopping the traitor from divulging the information that would have killed several members.”

“Exactly!” Sascha was glad Mr. Landry knew about the family history and could see the correlation.

“What happened in your uncle’s case?” he asked.

“He killed one of my other uncles, his brother. My uncle was found guilty of premeditated first-degree murder and put away for life. My uncle’s family said they had nothing to do with any of it. That, though they didn’t believe their ancestor was a traitor, that was the past and they should let bygones be bygones.”

Mr. Landry scoffed.

“Exactly. The proof was on our side. But it made me wonder if someone in your family tree from Sam’s family felt Sam had been wronged and was going to avenge his death?”

“But why Gregory?” Mrs. Landry asked. “And why was your other uncle targeted?”

“My Uncle Tobin wrote an article on the resistance and our family’s involvement in it. He was on a local news station in San Antonio. Because of that, his brother, who was the black sheep of the family and always said the traitor had been wronged, shot and killed him.”

“That’s horrible,” Mrs. Landry said.

“I agree. Now with your ancestor’s case, if this has anything to do with what’s going on with Gregory, it seems that it would have been done sooner, or with someone closer to the resistance member.” She paused. “Okay, I had another far-out thought. What about the situation with the baby mix-up at Memorial Hospital?”

Mrs. Landry frowned. “That was proven not to be the case.”

“Exactly. But what if the parents of the other baby never believed he was their son? And the son resented it. Like I say, it’s really farfetched, but I saw the newspaper clipping, and I began wondering.”

Everyone remained quiet for a moment.

Then Gregory said, “That’s why I need you to help me with this dangerous mystery. You think out of the box.”

“Let the police handle it,” Mrs. Landry repeated.

At least no one laughed at Sascha’s wild ruminations.

After they finished the champagne, Mrs. Landry saw them to the door. “Now, be sure and let me know soonest when the wedding will take place and what you want me to help you with.”

Rose said, “Me too,” though she glanced at Gregory as if she knew this was more his idea than Sascha’s.

“Of course, Mother, as soon as we can agree on a date.”

She embraced Sascha warmly, then turned to her son and did the same. “Maybe we could have lunch on Saturday.”

“I’ll be at a show all weekend, Mrs. Landry.”

“A show?”

“Yes, I have a booth as a fortune teller.”

“Ah, of course. Some other time then.”