'During World War Two. In England' Now it was Zenger's turn. For an instant Thomas sensed the old man was stunned by a revelation of truth.
But, if he had been, he recovered just as quickly. He began to smile.
'That proves that it's a hoax' said Zenger grimly.
– Why?'
'The fact is that Arthur Sandler never left the United States during the war. Not for a single day. Being wealthy and being Germanic by 'traction, he was afraid to leave.'
'Afraid?'
'Some people, people with influential friends, knew what was happening to Japanese Americans. Sandler feared the same. He was scared that if he left the country he'd never be let back in. He'd be stripped of his fortune and his citizenship in one neat little swoop Zenger, feeling his case winning, allowed himself a calm smile.
He added,
'And I can prove this' 'How?'
'I have an old friend in the passport office in Washington. I can arrange a visit for you. You can go down there yourself and inspect the old passport records.'
'You make it sound very simple.'
'It is ' Thomas pondered it, then shook his head. He fingered the cold coffee cup in front of him.
'No, it's not' he said.
'I took the liberty of making some telephone calls.'
'Jesus Christ,' snapped Zenger.
'Who'd you call?'
'England' 'Who in England?'
'A bureau of records in Exeter. And the borough clerk's – office in Devonshire 'And?' asked Zenger coldly.
'The marriage certificates and the birth certificates check with what's on official record. Everything checks, right down to the signatures on both certificates. Now, if necessary, I can have the handwriting analyzed. I can also go to England and try to trace down the people who witnessed the marriage or birth. From there-' 'Holy Christ. Holy, holy Christ!'
Thomas looked across the table at the muttering Zenger.
Zenger's face was ashen and his hands were shaking. His face started to sink to his palms, but Zenger caught himself and looked across the table.
'You know too much already,' he said.
'You sitaround with a telephone and play detective, but you don't really understand what you're fooling with.' The old man leaned forward.
'Thomas. Don't get involved. You'll get everyone killed.'
'Everyone? Who?'
'You!' snorted Zenger in a mocking voice.
'You! Me! This girl, even if she is a hoax.'
'In that case,' said Thomas evenly, 'you'd better tell me what we're dealing with. Because I'm going on with this case until someone convinces me that I shouldn't.'
The old man's frail hand was shaking slightly. He picked up a linen napkin from the table and dried his palms. There was anxiety in his eyes as he looked at the younger man across the table.
'I used to think that your father was the shrewdest lawyer I could ever imagine. I might have been wrong' He paused for a moment.
'I said hot pincers couldn't get this story' out of me. And they wouldn't. But you're going to get your damned story.' Zenger looked Daniels in the eye. Promise me you'll drop the case when you leave here today.'
Thomas shrugged, knowing he didn't have to bargain.
'I can't make any promise' he said.
'I haven't heard anything yet' Zenger shook his head.
'God help you.'
He struggled to his feet, again needing the cherry wood cane.
'I made a tactical error here today. I should have pretended that my brain had failed, too.'
Zenger struggled back toward the leather armchair in the sitting room.
Mrs. Clancy appeared, to clear the' table 'Follow me' he said to Thomas, The old man coughed violently as he walked.
'If I'd known how long I was going to live' he said, 'I'd have taken better care of myself.'
Chapter 7
'Above all, you must remember two aspects of Arthur Sandler.
First, he had a consuming sense of family honor, very much a nineteenth-century German tradition. And second, you must bear in mind his brilliance. Brilliance,' explained Adolph Zenger, 'far beyond simple genius.'
Zenger's voice was weaker than it had been two hours earlier when Thomas Daniels had arrived. The old man was again in his worn leather chair, the blanket draped across his lap. Thomas sat across the cozy sitting room, bookcases to his right, the window overlooking the garden on his left.
'What sort of brilliance?' he asked.
Zenger's frail hand was on the carved handgrip of the cherry wood cane.
His eyes were sharp and spirited as he replied.
'Brilliance in every way, Tommy,' he snapped.
'But particularly in the three fields that interested Sandler most.
Chemicals. Finance. Engraving.'
Zenger could see that his visitor was mystified.
'You have to understand the Sandler family, Tommy,' insisted Zenger.
'You must understand the family.'
Zenger began to explain, citing William Ward Daniels as his onetime source of all information concerning the Sandlers.
The paternal grandfather of Arthur and Victoria Sandler arrived in a wide-open New York in the late 1850s. A young man at the time, and an immigrant from Hamburg, he quickly prospered by importing fabrics from Europe and reselling them to American sweatshops at a five-hundred-per-cent markup. Then Wilhelm von Dreissen Sandler quickly sensed the investment opportunities around him. He purchased land and property as fast as he could, living frugally and pouring every cent into either a building or a plot of land. Within ten years he was a millionaire through one enduring principle: rents.
He fell in love twice: once with a woman, once with a building. In 1864 he married and embarked on a European honeymoon with his bride.
Touring through France, Sandler happened upon the country chateau of the Baron Al'is d'Artennes. Sandler madly coveted the home, a magnificent sprawling estate which had been in the d'Artennes family since 1730. Sandler attempted to buy the estate. The baron, insulted that the wealthy parvenu American would have the effrontery to make such an offer, would not even reply. Embittered, Wilhelm Sandler returned to New York, where he was more used to getting any building he wanted. There he would have his way after all. He commissioned a replica of the chateau to be built on a strip of land he owned in what was then a tree-shaded suburban section of Manhattan. And so by 1877, when construction was complete, Wilhelm Sandler had become the Baron of Eighty- ninth Street.
There his lifelong frugality gave way to indulgence. He gained one hundred pounds in three years. He would have gained more, but in 1880 he dropped dead of a stroke.
His fortune and the family standard passed to his three children.
Wilhelm II was an adventurer; he died in the ninety-day war with Spain in 1898. A daughter, Theresia, had been endowed with thick horse like features and was reputed to be the ugliest woman in New York society.
