Chapter 8

Gillespie's office was more disorganized than his study at home. There were a lot of books on the shelves, but they were in no discernible order. Moby-Dick jostled Emma near an upside-down copy of Untermeyer's Modern British and American Poetry. Most of the books were "standard" text editions. There were at least four copies of Middlemarch and several of Jane Eyre. Novels or books about novels. But there was a truly handsome three-volume Evelina -- London, 1783, I noted -- in full leather with gilt edging to boards and gilt decoration to spines. And some seventeenth-century pamphlets and Sheridan plays in what looked like first editions. They must have cost a pretty penny. As had that Burton.

There was also a four-drawer filing cabinet and a desk. The cabinet was open, the desk was locked. "Do you have the key?" I asked Billings.

"It's one of these two. The other is for the cabinet."

The top left drawer contained garbage: packs of Kleenex, parts of rolls of lozenges and Tums, a vast number of pink message pad sheets with phone numbers, dates, jottings and nothing to link them to reality. The next drawer seemed to be full of used Kleenex. I dumped it into the wastebasket to discover nothing of note. Billings didn't seem to care. The bottom drawer was full of old exams. They seemed to be over 10 years old. "Beyond the statute of limitations," I said to Billings, who was leaning against a jamb as usual.

The top right contained a small photo album. A sort of memorial to the Gillespie nuptials. Susan proved to be a really pretty pink-cheeked California girl of about 23. From the backgrounds, I could tell that the pictures had been taken up north -- most likely in her parents' garden on the peninsula.

But the bottom drawer contained three folders marked "House," "Personal," and "Correspondence."

"Personal" wasn't very interesting: four passports (three expired), duplicate Social Security card, a copy of the marriage certificate, a copy of the divorce decree, a list (notarized) of personal effects of Susan Gillespie nee Mitchell removed from the house on 55th Street in San Diego, a birth certificate. I looked in "House" next. All it contained was a deed, a certified title search, an insect inspection report ten years old, and a cancelled mortgage note. (So he had owned it outright! In San Diego that meant a lot of money.)

"Correspondence" wasn't very thick. All the letters seemed to be from the same source, a "Fr. T.J. O'Hanlon" at the Holy Name School in Winnetka, Illinois. They were in chronological order, the oldest from 1964.

Dear Cyrus,

It is many years since you left here to go on to the university, and I have often wondered just what became of the brightest pupil in English I taught in my 35 years here. But I was, nonetheless, surprised when I took up a copy of The Bulletin of the John Rylands Library last week and came upon an article on Fanny Burney by you. Through this rather unorthodox source, I became aware of the fact that you are at San Diego State College, and a copy of their catalog in the guidance office revealed that you are a member of the Department of English. So I am taking the liberty of writing to you. I trust that you will indulge an old man and respond.

It went on a bit, but that was all that might be relevant. "Have you read this?" I asked, holding the yellowing sheet out to Billings.

"No. One of the men said there were files, but I hadn't looked at anything. Do you think it's important?"

"I don't know. It's old. But it's the only personal correspondence I've seen." I flipped through the sheets. "There's too much to read right now. Might I take the stuff with me?"

"I'd rather not. Especially if it might prove relevant. Look, you told your wife you'd be back around four. There's still an hour. Read a bit more and let me know what you think."

"OK. But we'll have to whiz up to La Jolla." I had my desires and Billings had his.

"No problem. We can make it in ten minutes."

I paged through the file. The next letter was from the end of November 1964. It was fairly obvious what Gillespie must have written.

Your questions are searching and profound ones. And while I have the appropriate responses of my Order and of the Church ready, I am not at all certain of my human response. Your story, as you recount it, is a sad one, and the attitude of the Church is clear: you and Susan are still wed, even though she has undertaken a civil suit against you; and she is living in sin with this man, Larsen. Their issue is illegitimate and their activity adulterous. It is possible that my Bishop would see his way clear to promulgating an annulment on your behalf. He is a generous man. As to your current situation, I am sure that any liaison you might enter upon would be sinful and that matrimony within the Church would be impossible.