“I’m so sorry,” Faith said.
“Well, that’s life, isn’t it? Anyway, he didn’t have a phone, but he’d call once in a while. We were going to move back together when the book was finished. In any case, it would have been hard to live together when he decided to move to the city, because I was taking care of my mother. I guess I secretly hoped he’d move 92
to the house after she died, but people would have known who he was. The neighbors are . . . well, they like to keep track of what’s going on. So he stayed where he was and I stayed where I was.” Lorraine, clinging to Fox as they got older, would have had to play by his rules—always his rules.
“And Harvey? Were they close?”
“Well, not to say close, but Nathan was a very accepting man. That was what was so special about him.
He didn’t judge. When Harvey was a little boy, Nathan explained to me that it wasn’t a good idea for the child to get attached to someone who might have to disappear, and there were long stretches when Nathan was in a safe house that only had room for him. I’ve always been able to find secretarial work and supported us that way.”
Us being Harvey and Lorraine, or all three of them?
Faith wondered. Probably both at different times.
Time! She didn’t have time for this—unfortunately.
There was much more to be learned from Lorraine.
And she now had two more people who knew where Fox lived. Faith had no doubt that whatever Lorraine knew, her son knew—if he wanted to, and she’d have to meet him to judge that. Had Lorraine seen the Stansteads’ wedding picture when she went to care for Fox, seen the postcards on the fridge? Somehow, Faith thought not. Fox would have tucked them out of sight.
But still the question remained. Did Lorraine Fuchs know about Emma?
And what about the bank job?
“Were you involved when they tried to rob Chase Manhattan?”
“No, I’d been away for a few weeks helping my mother sell my grandmother’s house. She’d died a 93
month earlier and there was a lot to do to get it ready to put on the market. It was in New Jersey, out in the country near the Delaware Water Gap. It would have been a nice place for Harvey. He loved it there.” Lorraine sounded wistful. It had probably been one of the happiest times in her life, and Faith imagined the two women going through drawers, closets, boxes in an attic, reliving old memories while the little boy played outside in the sunshine. But it was time to get back to business.
“When did you find out about the robbery?”
“Right away. I had called Nathan the night before and told him I’d be back the next day, but I still had to help my mother unpack the things she’d decided to keep. I couldn’t just leave her, no matter how much I missed Nate. She gave me a beautiful set of dishes—
Nippon—that had been my grandmother’s. Nate, Harvey, and I were living in a tiny apartment in the Village then, and I thought I’d just bring a few plates. They’re still in a box. I really should get them out and use them at last. But anyway, about that night. Nathan knew where I was, of course, and showed up there. He tapped on the kitchen window when he saw I was alone.” Obviously another blissful memory. “He was really annoyed with himself for making such a mess of it. Two were arrested right away, but Nate and the driver of the car got away. He would never tell me who the driver was, but I have my guesses. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I hadn’t gone away. I would have been there, too, and things would have been a lot harder. About keeping Nathan safe, I mean. The authorities weren’t looking for me. I mean they were, but not like with Nathan. I changed my name to Linda Fuchs and called my parents only once 94
a year for a long time. That part was hard. But things got better after a while. I think the FBI had better, or worse, things to do.”
Fox had found the perfect helpmate. She didn’t even seem to be much of a worrier, yet she was obviously intelligent. Faith wished she had more time to talk. She wanted to find out about the other men involved in the robbery attempt. Close comrades. Did they know about Nathan’s personal life? Where were they now, and were they in need of cash?
She grabbed the bill, over Lorraine’s protests that going Dutch was only fair. “You’ve been such a help, so please let me get this. I’m sorry I can’t stay longer, but I have to go. I have to be at work. Maybe we could arrange a time to meet again?”
Lorraine was clearly delighted at the prospect.
“Why don’t you come to the house and look at my scrapbooks? I’ve kept every news article, every review over the years.”
“That would be fantastic. I’m so glad I met you today,” Faith said.
“Me, too.” Lorraine had eaten everything on her plate, not wasting a crumb. The older woman seemed so lonely that Faith felt a stab of guilt at the way she was using her. But when this was all over, she assured herself, Emma could meet Lorraine and they could engage in mutual Fox worship.
“I’m not sure what my schedule is, so could I call you?” she asked.
“Sure,” said Lorraine, digging out a ballpoint pen and writing her number on a napkin.
Faith tucked the napkin in her purse and put on her coat. She hesitated before asking one last question, but knew if she didn’t, she’d be kicking herself later. “I 95
know it must be upsetting to think about, but who do you think killed Nathan Fox?”
Lorraine’s washed-out blue eyes filled with tears. “I wish I knew. I wish I knew.”
When Faith got to work, Josie was up to her elbows in coulibiac of salmon and muttering to herself, “Why folks can’t eat a good old Brunswick stew, I’ll never know. Just wait ’til Josie’s comes along.”
“We’re not behind, but we’re not ahead,” she told Faith, who was hastily changing into some work clothes.
“Any calls?”
“About ninety from someone named Emma. Left them on the machine, and we’ve chatted a number of times since. I believe it to be the concerned lady who didn’t want to bother you at work. You recall?” Faith did and raced to the phone.
Emma was home and picked up on the first ring.
“Emma, hi. It’s Faith. I don’t really have much—”
“Tell me everything. Were there a lot of speakers?
Was it crowded? Oh, I should have taken a chance and gone. How about the press—were they there?”
“Yes, yes, and yes. I’ll tell you everything tomorrow.
We have to do a dinner tonight on Gramercy Park and—”
“Faith, I got a call. From them.”
“Oh God, Emma. You have got to tell Michael!
What did they say? When was it?” If it was during the time of the service, that eliminated a whole bunch of people.
“I don’t know when. It was on the machine and I didn’t get back until around two o’clock. I left about ten. Hair, manicure, Christmas shopping, a lunch 96
meeting—it should be one or the other, a meeting or lunch.”
She was rambling on, her distraught voice making the prosaic words a litany of fright.
“Emma! What did they say!”
“ ‘We’ll be in touch.’ That’s all. ‘We’ll be in touch.’ ” Her voice was dead calm now, leaden.
“A man or a woman?”
“Impossible to tell. Strange, kind of squeaky, high-pitched.”