Page 19 of Coram House

He’s babbling now. I’d hoped pressure might uncover something useful, but this is going nowhere. A gale of wind batters the little house, rattling the windows and sending a cold draft of air through the room.

“Do you have more complete records of the residents?” I ask. “So far, I haven’t been able to uncover Tommy’s last name.”

He shakes his head. “The fire.”

I notice something yellow and crusty stuck to the front of his cassock. Dried egg, maybe. He waits for my next question, but my energy is gone. All week I’ve been preparing for this meeting and it’s clearly a complete waste of time.

“I want to go inside Coram House.” I don’t plan to say it, it just comes out.

Father Aubry blinks at me. “It’s an active construction site now. I, well, I’m not sure it’s safe and I can’t— I mean, it’s not my–”

“Don’t worry,” Stedsan cuts in. “I’ve already spoken to Bill Campbell. We’re headed there now.”

I turn to him in surprise. This is the first I’m hearing about it.

“I, well, I see.” Father Aubry looks alarmed. “And he was… all right with it?”

Stedsan smiles. “Of course. In the name of civic duty, et cetera.”

“I… Yes, of course.” Father Aubry laughs. “Very good of him. Well, then, it appears you’re all set.”

“It appears so,” I say, staring at Stedsan, but he doesn’t look at me.

As we head back downstairs, I wonder if Stedsan is purposefully trying to keep me off-balance. It seems ridiculous, but he had plenty of opportunity to let me know we were meeting with the developer right after this. I don’t know what his angle is, but I don’t really care. I don’t even care that Father Aubry was a waste of time. Today, I’m going inside Coram House.

Outside, the wind skitters a paper cup down the path and into my pants. Stedsan pauses to pull on his gloves.

“Well, that wasn’t exactly what we agreed.”

“What do you mean?” I wipe at a smear of mud on my pant leg, which makes it worse.

Stedsan angles his head toward the stone cottage. I assume toward Father Aubry’s nervous disposition.

I shrug. “I thought it was more of a suggestion. And when exactly were you going to tell me about getting access to Coram House?”

He ignores my clear irritation. “I just heard from Bill this morning.” He looks at his watch. “Come on, he said he’d be in the office by ten.”

We walk down the dirt track. But I’m quietly stewing. Stedsan could have let me know about the meeting. Instead, he chose to tell me at the last minute in front of Father Aubry. And Monday, the way he ordered me to stop asking questions about Tommy. He’s the one who brought me here to write this book, so why do I already feel like he’s in my way?

A gust of wind roars around the north side of Coram House, as if it had been lying in wait. But that’s not what stops me in my tracks. The extent of the construction isn’t visible from the road, but back here it’s adifferent story. The new wing extends like a strange growth, now nearly the size of its host. Slick walls of red corrugated metal and giant sheets of glass take advantage of what must be sweeping views of the lake. The whole thing is sleek and modern, an odd contrast with the solid brick and stone of the old building. But I guess that’s the point. A distraction or a fresh start, depending on who you ask.

“Careful.”

Stedsan lays a hand on my arm. To our left is a pit filled with frozen water. The foundation for something new.

“Who’s Bill Campbell?” I ask. “The name is familiar.”

Stedsan raises his eyebrows. “I thought you did your homework,” he teases. “I’m sure I mentioned him. He’s the developer and a key investor in the project.”

He gestures to a pickup truck parked nearby, where the wordsCAMPBELL & SONSare stenciled on the side next to a logo of a hammer and shovel crossed in a vaguely Soviet style.

“He also lived in Coram House as a child.”

Of course. I’d read Bill Campbell’s deposition. He’d been one of the people to throw doubt on Sarah Dale. And now here he was, developing Coram House into condominiums. For a second, I’m too stunned to speak.

“Not for very long,” Stedsan continues. “A few months, if I’m remembering right. His mother had a drug problem, but she got clean. A happy ending.”

“And then what?” I ask. “He just bought up Coram House to develop it? That didn’t bother anyone?”

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