Chapter 14 Chapter Fourteen

After returning to Rose Hill, Taylor immediately made a call. "Fitzgerald says the press doesn't know anything about it. Of course those at the cemetery don't like it. The coroner has ordered Dr. Collins to keep his mouth shut. Pere Weinger is trustworthy." Woody wasn't listening. "I don't know what the bitch does!" he said. "But she won't succeed!" He glared at everyone. "You don't always think that she didn't arrange this by herself?" Tyler said slowly, "I'm afraid I have to agree with you, Woody. There's no reason for anyone to do such a thing. This woman is very cunning, and she has a lot of brains. It's obvious that she's not alone. I can't tell." What do we have to do?"

※※※ "What do we do now?" Kendall asked. Taylor shrugged. "Honestly, I'm overwhelmed too. I wish I knew what to do. I'm sure she's going to go to court for an estate case." "Does she have any hope of winning?" Paige asked timidly. "I think she can. She's very persuasive. Hasn't she already convinced some of us?" "We've got to do something," Mark lamented. "Would you like to let the police intervene in this matter?" "Fitzgerald said they were already investigating the disappearance of the body, but they quickly reached an impasse. They were not in any way bureaucratic," Taylor said. "Besides, the police can't openly discuss this matter, otherwise they would have mobilized the ruffians in the city to search for the body."

"We can get the police to help us investigate this crook!" Taylor shook his head. "The police don't care about this kind of thing, it's a private matter..." He paused, then said thoughtfully. "you know……" "what?" "We can have private investigators investigate where she came from." "Not a bad idea. Do you know any private detectives?" "No, we can't get a local detective. But we can get Fitzgerald to find us one. Or..." He hesitated for a moment. "I haven't met him, but I've heard of the Chicago District Attorney. The firm often uses a private detective who has a great reputation."

Mark said, "Why don't we try and see if we can hire him?" Taylor look at everyone. "It depends on what you mean." "How much do we have to spend?" Kendall asked. "He's asking a lot," Taylor reminded everyone. Woody sneered and snorted. "A high asking price? We're talking millions of dollars." Taylor nodded. "Of course, you're right." "what is his name?" Taylor frowned. "I can't remember, Simpson... Simmons... no, no, no. It sounds like that. I can call the Chicago area attorney's office."

Taylor picked up the phone on the coffee table and dialed. Two minutes later, he was on the phone with an assistant at the law firm. "Hello, I'm Judge Taylor Stanford. I know you've always hired a good private investigator to work on your cases. His name seems to be Simmons or something...?" The other said, "Oh, you probably mean Frank Timmons." "Timmons! Yes, that's him." Taylor looked at the others and smiled. "I wonder if you could give me his phone number so I can contact him directly?" Tyler jotted down the phone number and put it down.

He turned to the group and said, "Okay. So, if everyone agrees, I'll try to get in touch with him." Everyone nodded in agreement. The next afternoon, Clark came to the living room, where everyone was waiting. "Mr. Timmons is here." He was about forty years old, pale, but strong, like a boxer.His mouth was wounded, and his bright eyes were curious and suspicious.He looked first at Taylor, then at Woody suspiciously. "Judge Stanford?" Tyler nodded, "I am." "Frank Timmons," he said. "Sit down, Mr. Timmons." "Thank you." He sat down. "Is it you who called?"

"yes." "Honestly, I don't know what I can do for you. I have nothing to do with the authorities here." "This is a purely unofficial investigation, you can rest assured," Taylor said. "We just wanted to investigate the background of a young woman." "You said on the phone that she claimed to be your half-sister, but you couldn't confirm it with DNA testing." "Good," Woody said. He looked at everyone. "You don't believe she is your sister?" He didn't get an answer right away. "We don't believe it," Taylor said. "But it is also possible that she is telling the truth. We ask you to help us produce strong evidence that she is really our sister or a liar."

"Fair enough. It's going to cost you a thousand dollars a day." Tyler said, "A thousand dollars...?" "We'll pay you," Woody interrupted Tyler. "I need everything about this woman." "But we don't know much," Kendall said. "She didn't have any proof," Taylor said. "She told us a whole bunch of things that happened when we were kids, and she said her mother told her.  …" He raised a hand. "Wait. Who's her mother?" "The mother she was talking about was Rosemary Nelson, our governess when we were little."

"What happened to her?" They looked at each other awkwardly. "She had an affair with my father and got pregnant. She ran off and had a girl," Woody said. He shrugged. "She's missing." "I see. This woman claims to be her child?" "right." "That's enough." He sat there thinking.Finally he looked up. "Okay. I'll see what I can do for you." "We can't thank you enough," Taylor said. ※※※ His first step was to go to the Boston Free Library and look up all the microfilms of the scandal about Harry Stanford, his governess, and Mrs. Stanford's suicide twenty-five years ago.This material is enough to write a novel.

The second step is to pay a visit to Simon Fitzgerald. "My name is Frank Timmons. I am..." "I know what you're here for, Mr. Timmons. Judge Stanford asked me to cooperate with your investigation. What can I do for you?" "I want to know about Mr. Harry Stanford's illegitimate daughter. She is about twenty-eight years old?" "Yes. She was born August 9, 1967, at St. Joseph's Hospital in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Her mother named her Julia." He shrugged. "They're missing. I'm afraid that's all I can offer you." "Start here," he said. "Start here."

Mrs. Daugherty was the superintendent of St. Joseph's Hospital in Milwaukee, a gray-haired woman in her fifties. "Yes, of course I do," she said. "How could I forget? It's a terrible scandal. It's been covered in every paper. The reporters here have found her whereabouts, and they won't let the poor girl have peace." "Where did she go after she left here with the baby?" "I don't know, she didn't leave her address." "Did she pay before she left, Mrs. Daugherty?" "Actually, she didn't." "How do you remember not paying the bill?" "Because it was so tragic. I remember her sitting where you are sitting now. She said to me that she could only pay part of the medical bills. Of course it was against the hospital's regulations, but I really sympathized with her and she left So weak here. I said yes." "Then did she pay the rest of the money?" "Of course. She got a job with a secretarial service." "Do you still remember where that service agency is?" "Don't remember. Well, that was nearly thirty years ago. Mr. Timmons." "Mrs. Daugherty, do you have a record of all the patients here?" "Of course." She looked up at her. "You want me to check the files?" He smiled happily. "If you don't mind." "Will it help Rosemary?" "It's very important to her." "Just a moment, please." Mrs. Daugherty left the office. Fifteen minutes later, she came back with a document in her hand. "Here you are. Rosemary Nelson. From Acme Transcripts, Omaha, Nebraska . . . " ※※※ The owner of the Elite Transcript Agency is a man in his sixties named Otto Broderick. "I've hired a lot of temps," he grumbled. "How do you expect people I remember working here so many years ago?" "This person is in a special case. She's a single woman in her twenties, in very frail health. She just had a baby and..." "Rosemary!" "Yes, how do you remember it so clearly?" "Let's put it this way. I'm a man of associations, Mr. Timmons. Do you know what 'mnemonic' is?" "Know." "Yeah, that's what I meant. I always associate words with words. There was a movie called Rosemary's Baby. So when Rosemary came in and said she had just had a baby, I put that Two things are connected, and then I'm..." "How long has Rosemary Nelson been with you?" "Oh, about a year. Then the news media somehow found her, and these people never let her have any peace. To get rid of them, she left the city that night." "Mr. Broderick, do you know where she went when she left here?" "Florida, I think. She needs a warmer climate. I recommend her to a copying agency I know there." "Can you tell me the name of the copying agency?" "Of course. Hurricane Transcripts. I remember it well, because there are several storms a year in Florida, and I connected the two..." ※※※ Ten days after that meeting with the Stanfords, he was back in Boston.He called them first and asked them to wait for him.They formed a semicircle and sat facing him. "You said on the phone that you had some news for us, Mr. Timmons," Taylor said. "That's right." He opened the briefcase and pulled out some documents. "It's a very interesting case," he said. "The first step is from..." "Let's cut to the chase," Woody said impatiently. "Is she a liar?" He looked up at Woody. "If you don't mind, Mr. Stanford, I like to present the case in my own way." Tyler signaled Woody to be patient. "This request is not excessive. Please continue." They watched him flip through his notes. "Rosemary Stanford, the Stanford governess, went with the boy to Omaha, Nebraska, and got a job with a firm called Acme Transcripts. Her employer told me , she left because she didn't adapt to the climate there." "Then I went to Florida and found the Hurricane Transcript Company where she worked. I followed that lead to Hammond, Indiana, where they lived until ten years ago. It was the last stop of my investigation. After that, they disappeared." He looked up at everyone. "That's all, Mr. Timmons?" Woody asked. "You didn't find any clues ten years later?" "No, the clue is still there." He took out another document from his briefcase. "Her daughter Julia applied for a driver's license once when she was seventeen." "What's the use?" Mark asked. "In Indiana, driver's license applicants must be fingerprinted." He held up a card. "These are the real fingerprints of Julia Stanford." Taylor said excitedly: "I see! If the fingerprints match..." Woody interrupted him: "Then she's our sister." He nodded. "Yes. I keep a fingerprint kit with me, and I thought you'd like to check her fingerprints right now. Is she here?" "She's in a hotel in the city. I talk to her every morning and tell her to stay here until the issue is clarified," Taylor said. "We've got it!" Woody said. "Let's go to her!" Half an hour later the gang arrived at the Tremont Hotel.She was packing when they entered her room. "Where are you going?" Kendall asked. She turned to face them. "Go home. I made a mistake from the start. I shouldn't be here at all." Taylor said: "You can't blame us for being too..." She said to him angrily: "Since I came here, all I have received is suspicion. You think I came here to steal your inheritance, but I didn't. I came because I wanted to find my home. I... but It doesn't matter now." She turned and continued to pack her things. Taylor said, "This is Frank Timmons. He's a private eye." She looked up at him. "Oh, is it? So what? Arrest me?" "No, ma'am. Julia Stanford applied for a driver's license in Hammond, Indiana when she was seventeen." She stopped what she was doing. "That's right. Is that illegal too?" "No ma'am. The point is..." "The thing is," Tyler interrupted Timmons, "Julia Stanford's fingerprints are on the driver's license." She looks at them. "I don't understand. You want to...?" Woody said, "We want to check your fingerprints." She squeezed her lips together. "No! I don't agree!" "You mean you won't let us take your fingerprints?" "yes." "Why?" Mark asked. She stood there stiffly. "Because you all make me feel like a criminal. Now I've had enough! I want you to leave me alone and leave me alone for a while." Kendall said softly: "This is the best opportunity to prove who you really are. We share your uneasiness. We hope to clarify." She stood there, looking at the faces, and finally said feebly, "Okay. Let's clarify the facts then." "now it's right." "Mr. Timmons..." Taylor said. "Here I am." He took out a small fingerprint kit and put it on the table.He opened the ink pad. "Okay, please come here..." Others are watching.She walked over to the table.He grabbed her hand, pressed her fingers on the printing pad one by one, and then pressed her fingers on a piece of white paper. "Look, it's easy, isn't it!" He put the fingerprints on the driver's license on the edge of the white paper. Everyone walked to the table and looked down at the two sets of fingerprints. They are exactly the same. Woody spoke first. "They...are...the same." Kendall looked at Julia and couldn't tell what it was like. "You really are our sister, aren't you?" She smiled with tears in her eyes. "That's exactly what I've been meaning to tell you all along." Everyone started talking right away. "It's incredible..." "After so many years..." "Why doesn't your mother come back...?" "I'm really sorry, we have wronged you..." Her smile lit up the room. "Okay, everything is fine now." Woody picked up the fingerprint card and looked at it in awe. "My God! This fingerprint card is worth a billion dollars." He put the fingerprint card in his pocket. "I'll have it set in bronze." Taylor said to everyone: "We should celebrate! I suggest we go back to Rose Hill." He turned to Julia and smiled. "We're going to have a welcome party for you. We'll check you out." She looked at everyone with tears in her eyes. "It's like a dream come true. I finally have a home!" Half an hour later, they returned to Rose Mountain Villa.She was placed in a new room.Others chatted excitedly downstairs. "She must have felt like she was going through an interrogation," Taylor said wistfully. "Yeah," Paige replied. "I don't see how she can stand it." "Wondering how she's going to adjust to this new life?" Kendall said. "Like us," said Woody dryly, "champagne and caviar." Taylor got up and said, "Personally, I'm glad it's finally cleared up. Let me go upstairs and see how she feels." He went upstairs and down the corridor to her room.He knocked on the door, and called out, "Julia?" "The door is open. Come in." He stood on the porch, and the two stared quietly at each other, smiling.Then Taylor closed the door carefully, stretched out his hands, and slowly smiled on his face. After a long time, he finally spoke. "We made it, Margot! We made it!"