The next morning, Poppy was summoned to Judson Quinn’s office. On her way she passed Paul Saunders, seated at a spare desk in the news department. Her attempt at a polite greeting was met with a glare. Rollo was already waiting for her in the editor’s office, and the two old friends were chewing the cud over a pot of strong coffee. Poppy declined Quinn’s offer of a drink.
“Take a seat, Miz Denby, take a seat,” said Quinn, returning to his own. “Rollo has filled me in on the latest developments.” He chuckled. “It hasn’t taken you long to get your feet under the desk now, has it?”
Poppy lowered her eyes. “I’m sorry, Mr Quinn. I know it’s distracting me from my job on the Death Beat…”
“Nonsense!” said Quinn, and toasted her with his coffee cup. “You’re a newshound, not a secretary. I’d be more upset if you’d let this pass. And besides, it was through doing your job on the Death Beat that you picked up on this von Hassler story. Good work, Miz Denby. Very good work.”
Rollo beamed from ear to ear like a proud parent. “So, Judson, where are we going to go from here?”
The editor sipped at his coffee, looking thoughtful, then pushed his wire-rimmed glasses further up his nose. “I think the first thing I need to do is find out if Saunders has actually covered this up or he’s just printed the statement from the coroner’s office and taken it at face value.” He grimaced. “Either outcome’s not good. Either he’s taking back-handers or he’s just incompetent.”
Poppy pursed her lips. “Or he’s just new on the job and still finding his feet?”
Quinn ran his finger over his moustache to wipe off the coffee droplets. “Very true, Miz Denby; you shame me with your fair-mindedness. I’ll reserve judgment on Saunders until I’ve got more facts to hand. But,” he picked up his pen, dipped it in the inkwell and made a note, “that’s going to be my first port of call.” He winked at Rollo. “I’ve got a few favours I can call in at the department – and higher up.”
Rollo put down his cup, cradled his head in his hands, and leaned back in his chair. “Higher up?”
Quinn blotted the ink and put his pen back in its holder. “City Hall…”
Rollo unmeshed his fingers and leaned forward. “City Hall? The mayor’s office? You don’t think…”
Quinn shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. As Miz Denby has already said, we shouldn’t jump to conclusions.” He tapped his nose. “But there’s a scent. There’s definitely a scent.”
Rollo nodded. “Well, let me know what you find out. I think I’m going to follow up with the mortuary assistant. He and I both know the initial report said it wasn’t an accident. And he took my money without blinking an eyelid. I think he’s got some explaining to do. Miz Denby, may I have your notes from that interview please?”
“Yes, of course,” said Poppy, and passed Rollo her notebook. But then she remembered the notes she’d made after her conversation with the Carter office. She needed them to follow up the Mimi story.
“Is there any way you can copy the notes and then give them back to me? There’s stuff in that notebook I might need. And I’d rather not tear out those pages.”
Rollo thought for a moment and said, “Maybe I can have the notes photographed. That way the morgue guy can see it written in your hand – which will remind him there’s two people’s word against his.” He nodded assertively. “Yes, that’s what I’ll do.” He tapped the outside of the leather-bound book. “I’ll get it back to you in two shakes of a lamb’s tail, Poppy.”
Quinn nodded his agreement. “Good, good. What’s your next move, Miz Denby?”
Poppy thought about it for a moment. “I think I’ll visit the Carter office. And, if you don’t mind, Rollo, I need you to call your contact on Ellis Island.”
Quinn frowned. “What’s this about?”
Poppy looked up. “The illegal immigrant prostitute story.”
Quinn turned to Rollo. “You never told me about this.”
Rollo gave Poppy a disapproving glance. “That’s because I thought we’d agreed we would give the von Hassler story priority for now.”
Poppy shrugged apologetically. “I think we can do both. I don’t think there’s much more I can do on the von Hassler story until we hear from Marjorie. You and Mr Quinn have leads to follow, but I’m twiddling my thumbs for now. So I thought I’d do some work on the other story. And as I’ve said, I think they’re connected anyway…”
“Whoa! Will someone tell me what’s going on here?” Quinn looked from the young reporter to the middle-aged hack.
“Sorry, Judson,” said Rollo, and proceeded to fill the editor in.
Five minutes later he concluded with: “And Poppy here thinks there might be a connection between the two stories because Alfie Dorchester has turned up in both of them, and von Hassler and the Spencers have shares in the same factory. Does that about sum it up, Poppy?”
She nodded. “It does, yes, although some further information has come to light since I last saw you, Rollo, which I think might justify me giving it a bit more priority.” She then went on to tell the men about her conversation with Seaman Jones and the revelation that there might be some kind of organized scam going on involving Carter officials and the US Immigration Service. She also told them the details of her conversation with Toby Spencer about his cousin ordering prostitutes for his producer colleagues, and that she was trying to get information on where they came from.
Quinn leaned back in his chair and let out a long whistle. “This one’s a keeper, Rollo, definitely a keeper. Miz Denby, if you ever decide to move to New York permanently, I can guarantee you a job here.”
Rollo grinned. “Back off, Judson.” Then he turned to Poppy. “My first thought, Poppy, is that we should do this story in tandem with Ike Garfield back in London. That’s where the corruption seems to start. What do you think, Judson?”
Quinn nodded. “Yes, I think you’re right. Can you speak to Ike without Archie Weinstein at the Globe finding out, though? He and I need to sort out our problems when he gets back, but I don’t want him getting the idea I’m siding with you over him.”
“What exactly has he got over you, Jud?” asked Rollo.
“This and that. Nothing I can’t handle.” Quinn nodded briefly towards Poppy. “But now I want to hear what Miz Denby has planned.”
“May I borrow my notebook for a moment, Rollo?” she asked.
He passed it to her. She paged through it, then stopped, her finger tapping on a particular note.
“I don’t think we can go much further on this until we confirm that the girls – Mimi and her sister – are indeed illegal immigrants. Otherwise it’s just a story about a prostitute that got slapped about by one of her clients at a party of toffs. And unfortunately, that’s not much of a story.”
Both Quinn and Rollo nodded in agreement.
“So, can one of you call your source at Ellis Island and get them to check the records? If the Yazierska girls are here legally, then its newsworthiness diminishes.”
Quinn grinned at Rollo. “Oh Rollo, hats off to you – and Miz Denby, of course. I wish half my cub reporters were as astute as this little lady.”
Poppy cringed inwardly at the phrase “little lady” but let it pass. Rome wasn’t built in a day…
Quinn picked up his pen and asked: “How do you spell that name again. Y-A – or is it E…”
Poppy repeated the spelling she had received from the Carter clerk. Quinn wrote it down, circled it, then opened his contacts book. He flicked through until he found the number, then picked up the telephone and asked to be put through to Ellis Island. When connected, he asked to speak to Immigration Inspector Jim Brown.
“Jim, hello. Judson Quinn here… yes, yes, they’re well, thanks… Ha! Third grandchild already? I’ve just got the one… That’s right, Edward’s married now… I know, just seems like yesterday, doesn’t it… Jim, listen, I need a favour…”
Quinn proceeded to ask Brown to check the processing records for Friday 12 April from the Olympic, which had arrived in port the night before. He spelled out the sisters’ names. Then he put his hand over the mouthpiece and said to Rollo and Poppy: “He’s checking. How about another cup of coffee while we wait?”
Poppy knew without being told that as the most junior member of staff there – and, whether she liked it or not, because she was a woman – she was expected to make the brew. She did so, checking with Quinn exactly how he liked it. As she busied herself Rollo and Quinn chatted about “Edward”, whom Rollo said he hadn’t seen since the boy was in college. Then, laughing, he confirmed that yes, he was still a bachelor and no, that’s exactly the way he liked it.
No mention of Yasmin Reece-Lansdale, thought Poppy. She kept mum. It wasn’t her place to tell.
As Poppy served the coffee Quinn was alerted to a voice on the telephone. “Righto, Jim. Thanks.” Then he looked directly at Poppy. “So, just to confirm, an Esther Yazierska was denied entrance to the United States on the grounds of being feebleminded, but her sister, Miriam, was admitted… Yes, yes, thanks, Jim, got it. But Miriam decided to return with her sister, is that right?… Okey dokey, and when was that?” He picked up his pen and made a note. “On the Olympic’s return journey, Saturday the 20th… Right, right, and are you sure they were on board… Of course, sorry, Jim, not your department. Thanks for your help…” Quinn frowned, nodding. “Yes, of course we can discuss highlighting some good news stories in return. Tell you what, I’ll get someone to call and set up an appointment. I’ll send one of my best fellas down… No trouble, Jim, always happy to help the US Immigration Service.”
Quinn said his goodbyes, promised to pass on his regards to Edward, and put down the phone. He placed a hand on either side of his notebook and leaned forward: “Well, you heard it, Miz Denby. Your Miriam Yazierska went back to Blighty last Saturday.”
Poppy templed her fingers. “Funny that, as I saw her the very same day in a bathtub on Long Island.”
Rollo nodded. “Yes. Very funny. Definitely follow up with Carter. But wait until I’ve telegraphed Ike first though; then we can co-ordinate our efforts. When will you hear from Toby about Miles and the prostitutes?”
Poppy shrugged. “I’m having dinner with him tomorrow night. I’ll ask then.”
Rollo gave her a quizzical look, but didn’t comment further. He’s thinking about Daniel, she thought and quickly changed the subject. “In the meantime I think I’ll drop by Elizabeth Dorchester’s house to see if she’s made any progress asking around the girls in the Garment District.”
“Good idea,” said Quinn. He leaned on the desk and stood up, hunching slightly to the left.
“Right, you two, good work. Rollo, you off to the morgue?”
“I am,” confirmed Rollo, also standing up. “After I’ve photographed and processed the pages from Miz Denby’s notebook.”
“And I’ll go and see Elizabeth Dorchester,” said Poppy, gathering her things.
“While I get onto the cops, then City Hall if needs be. Hopefully I’ll have an answer on who put a lid on the von Hassler investigation by the end of the day. Go to it, troops!” laughed Quinn, his eyes alight with journalistic passion. Poppy smiled. He’s enjoying this.