“John, please?—”
“Do you still have the things you removed from the house?” I asked.
“Of course not. I destroyed them.”
“You had no right to do that,” Edwin said.
“I had every right, and you know it.”
I was siding with Edwin, but that’s just me. I said, “Well in that case you’ve made my job much harder.”
“I think you’re exaggerating. Are you trying to get more money?”
“It’s important to know who his friends were during that period. Photographs could have helped, address books, diaries…”
“You’ll have to work without those.”
My ginger ale and Jan’s martini arrived. The waiter asked if we’d like to order, but Jan gruffly sent him away. I wondered if they were going to buy lunch or was I about to be tossed out.
“What do you know about the bookCanyon Girl?”
“That it’s trash,” Jan said.
“Your mother said your father threatened legal action if your uncle was mentioned in the book. Do you know anything about that?”
“Not really,” Jan said. “That has to be twenty, twenty-five years ago. I wasn’t a lawyer then. Edwin was still in grade school.”
“Patrick was a lawyer himself. Why do you think he had your father handle it?”
Now Edwin answered. “Given what you’re uncovering, I imagine the whole idea of the book was terrifying for Uncle Patrick. Any legal matter is better handled by someone with a level head.”
Jan added, “Our father was a fixer. He handled problems for the rich and famous. Patrick couldn’t have had a better lawyer for something like that.”
“Why was it such a problem? Wouldn’t it have been better to tell the writer he was Vera’s fiancé?”
Of course, he might have dug a little further and exposed Patrick, I thought, answering my own question. Just as well. Jan ignored me, “Is this what you’re doing for us? Reading a very dubious book?”
“I called the author. He hung up on me as soon as I mentioned your uncle.”
Jan smiled, saying, “Father had that effect on people.” That was probably true. He’d certainly scared the bejesus out of Wallace Philburn. “What do you plan to do next?”
“The book mentions a number of Vera’s friends. I’d like to talk to any of them who are still alive. Ivan Melchor’s papers are at some library. I’m going to see if there’s anything there that might be helpful.”
“I can’t imagine there would be.”
“What is it you think I should be doing that I’m not doing?”
“Can’t you get the original case files from the Pasadena Police Department?”
“Yes and no. I can submit a written request. It’s unlikely I’ll get the complete file. What I’ll get will be heavily redacted and likely not include much more than what’s already publicly available. And it will take months.” I took a long pause, then continued, “This is why I’m trying to talk to Wallace Philburn. He’s done a lot of the leg work. If he'll share the information, it will save a lot of time.”
“You’re doing fine,” Edwin said. “Just keep going.”
I could tell Jan wanted to argue, but he decided better of it and said, “Well. Thank you for coming.”
From his tone, I knew I wasn’t getting any lunch. I stood up and said good-bye. Next time, I’d meet them on a park bench.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN