Back at The New York Times, Poppy and Rollo went straight to Judson Quinn’s office. As they arrived, a red-faced Paul Saunders was just leaving. He made no effort to avoid a collision and rammed into Poppy with his shoulder. Poppy staggered but retained her balance.
“Steady on, Saunders!” called Rollo.
“Leave him; it’s all right. I believe Mr Quinn has had a few words with him.”
“You’re right.” Judson Quinn appeared in the doorway. He looked pale and tired. Poppy noticed his left arm drooping more than usual. “Come in, come in.”
“So…” said Rollo, cocking his head back towards the door. “Has Saunders got his marching orders?”
Quinn shook his head wearily. “No, just a dressing down. There’s no evidence that he was aware of the cover-up; just lazy journalism.”
Poppy nodded. Yes, that was fair. She didn’t like the man much, but he didn’t deserve to lose his job if he wasn’t guilty of a cover up. “So did you find out who was responsible?”
Quinn closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. Poppy and Rollo waited. He opened them and met Poppy’s concerned gaze with a wan smile. “My contacts in the NYPD – that’s the police, Miz Denby – said word had come from above. They had not actually found any evidence of foul play, so were not really covering anything up – that’s their excuse anyway – but they were told to wrap up the case as quickly as possible. In other words, not to look too carefully in case they did find anything. The actual cover-up, it seems, was directed at the coroner’s office.”
“Yes,” agreed Rollo, and told Quinn that the mortician was now “on leave”.
“You have the notes, though,” probed Quinn, “about the first autopsy report? A judge will no doubt want to see them.”
“Agreed. I’ve given the von Hassler lawyer copies of the photographs I took of Poppy’s originals. He’ll use them in his application to have the case re-opened. Poppy and I may also have to swear affidavits, but we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
Quinn frowned. “Don’t do it without one of our legal boys being there. Remember Barnes is not your lawyer and does not have your – or the paper’s – best interests at heart.”
Rollo agreed and asked Quinn to arrange a meeting with the legal team. Quinn said he would.
“So…” pressed Rollo, “if the police are clear, but the coroner is dirty, who gave the order from above? The police chief or the chief medical officer?”
“Neither,” said Quinn, pushing his spectacles back onto the bridge of his nose. “Apparently it was political.”
“City Hall? Why?”
Quinn shook his head. “Higher. I don’t have any corroborating evidence yet, but my sources tell me that influence was applied from a senator’s office.”
“Senator Spencer?” asked Poppy, her mind racing, trying to piece it all together.
Quinn raised his one good hand. “I wasn’t given a name. So that, for now, is just a guess.”
“A very educated guess,” observed Rollo. “But what would his motivation be, if it was him? Why would Theo Spencer want to stop an investigation into von Hassler’s death?”
Poppy was flicking through her notebook, looking for the interview with the housekeeper, Nora Lawson. “Mrs Lawson said she thought there was going to be a cover-up because von Hassler was a homosexual and certain people would not want their association with him to be known.”
“You think Theo Spencer might be a pansy?” Rollo grinned. “Oh, my mother would just love that!”
Quinn laughed but then added the caution: “We have no proof that he is… homosexual – or for that matter involved in this in any way. And for something as inflammatory as that, we would need cast-iron evidence.”
“Agreed,” said Rollo.
Poppy chewed her lip. “You know, at the time I thought the whole thing very strange. Mrs Lawson was crying foul before anything had happened. How did she know this would be the case? I think she might know more than she’s telling us. And, let’s not forget, she has a motive for ensuring Alfie Dorchester – or who she thought was Otto von Riesling – goes down for murder.”
“Oh, and what’s that?” asked Rollo.
“If you recall, Barnes told us she was the secondary beneficiary of the will. If von Riesling was prohibited from inheriting because of his involvement in his uncle’s death, she would get it all.”
“Great Scot!” declared Quinn. “That’s a motive if ever I’ve heard one.”
“And means, and opportunity…” added Poppy.
Rollo twiddled his thumbs together. “She certainly does appear suspect, doesn’t she? Either she killed the prince herself or knows for certain that Alfie did… but how would she know? Was she there? Did she see him? Did Alfie visit his uncle that day? Or did anyone else? These are probably questions we should have asked when we first met her. But we were distracted by other concerns… Water under the bridge… Another visit to Mrs L. is definitely needed. Righto…”
Rollo started gathering his things then stopped, raising his index finger as something occurred to him. “Another thing I’ve been thinking about is the murder weapon. Either the killer brought it with him or something in the apartment was used. Who better than the housekeeper to know if something was missing or had been moved? Apart from the police activity in the bathroom, everything else appeared ship-shape. Would you agree, Poppy?”
Poppy nodded. “Yes. It was a very tidy apartment. She probably would know if something was missing.” She grimaced. “You would think the police would have checked already, though, wouldn’t you?”
Quinn agreed. “Yes, but as we’ve already established, they were not particularly looking for any evidence of foul play. I agree, though, another meeting with the housekeeper is essential – before the police get to her,” observed Quinn. “So it will have to be tonight, if possible. Once Barnes gets the court order invoked to re-open the case things will move very quickly. No doubt they’ll work double-time to make up for their failings. And as soon as they do, the story’s fair game for every paper in town.”
Quinn looked at his pocket watch and grunted. “So, lady and gent, I want some articles written up by you two before you leave today. Yes, you need to speak to the housekeeper again – and I’ll ring Barnes and let him know what I found out about the cover-up – but we need something on the newsstands in the morning. You can write up a couple of pieces then meet up with Mrs L. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” said Poppy and Rollo in unison. Poppy looked at her watch too. It was five o’clock. She was supposed to be going out with Delilah after work. It would have to wait.
Rollo reached for the telephone. “I’ll set something up with Mrs Lawson. I’ll tell her we’ve got some information for her. We’ll arrange to meet at von Hassler’s penthouse. I also want to see if I can get a glimpse at the visitor book – if there is one in the lobby – or else speak to that doorman again.”
Mention of the doorman reminded Poppy of something. “And perhaps we can see if Howard Parker is in too. He’s also connected with this somehow.”
“And how’s that?” asked Quinn.
Poppy told him. Quinn nodded, more wearily than ever. “Good, good, but we probably need to prioritize. Do Mrs L. first and then, perhaps tomorrow, follow up on the Parker and factory lead. I know you think the prostitution story and this one are linked, and they probably are, but murder trumps prostitution in the news game, so I want you to focus on von Hassler first. Can you do that, Miz Denby?”
“I can,” said Poppy, but her mind was already going over ways she could have her cake and eat it. “Rollo,” she said, “if Mr Quinn is finished with us, I’ll join you in your office in a few minutes to write up a couple of articles. I just need to telephone Delilah and cancel our date for tonight. Is that all right?”
Both Quinn and Rollo said it was.
Two hours later, Poppy and Rollo had written two articles between them: a “prince’s death might have been murder” article, speculating that the case into the aristocrat’s death might be re-opened, according to sources in the coroner’s office; then a biography of von Hassler, taken primarily from the Death Beat file, but supplemented with information from the general Jazz Files.
Poppy took the opportunity to get the files of Theodore Spencer and Howard Parker too. There was nothing in either file to suggest homosexual leanings. Spencer was a respected senator, happily married for thirty-five years. Parker, on the other hand, had been a playboy in his younger days and a notorious womanizer in his middle years.
One thing did catch her eye though – a photograph of Parker, von Hassler, Miles, Theo and Amelia Spencer at a film premier in 1918. The fleshy-faced producer was indeed the man she had seen in the library at The Lodge. Attached to the photograph was an article about Black Horse Productions being the second business venture the three older men had entered into together. The first was a fashion business. The senator was quoted as saying: “Prince von Hassler and I are more shadow investors in both companies. I’m far too busy serving the good people of Suffolk County, Long Island, in the Senate. And Prince Hans here has many other business concerns to attend to. So our good friend Howard Parker ensures the day-to-day running of things at both concerns. And a splendid job he does of it too.”
Parker was then asked how he managed to divide his time between Black Horse on the west coast and Magriet Fashions on the east. He answered: “My future is in film. I devote most of my time to that. But it’s a new industry and I need to ensure our other business does well enough to keep the funds flowing. I have appointed a top-notch manager here in New York, and I make sure I drop in every time I’m in town. Don’t worry, folks – you’ll be seeing plenty of new films from us!”
He then went on to talk up Miles Spencer and what a fine young director he was. One to watch. A talent to be reckoned with…
Poppy looked carefully at the photograph of the five people. Which, if any of them, was involved in all this? And how did Alfie fit into it all? What was it that Elizabeth was trying to tell her this morning? Now that she’d calmed down, she felt she should visit the former suffragette again to hear what she had to say for herself. She would do it tomorrow. And then perhaps try to see if she could get into the factory too…
But this evening she had other plans, which she had already cleared with Rollo, although not Quinn. Both she and Rollo agreed he hadn’t been looking well and it was best she not add any further pressure to him by telling him what she intended. So Poppy and Rollo filed their stories and rode down to the foyer in the lift. It was seven o’clock. And there, waiting for them, was Delilah. She was dressed to the nines – in full flapper regalia – carrying a small suitcase and a parcel with a Macy’s department store logo on the wrapping. She smiled widely as Poppy and Rollo stepped out of the lift.
“I thought you’d never get here! Here…” She passed the suitcase and parcel to Poppy. “I’ve got what you asked for.”
“Thanks,” said Poppy. “Rollo, would you mind waiting a few minutes while I get changed?”
“Not at all,” he grinned. “I can’t wait to see what you two gals have cooked up.”