Noel Hynd - The Sandler Inquiry

Or "Shifty Little Adolph' as his detractors called him. Once he'd been brilliant. Once he'd been a firebrand. But then, abruptly in the mid- 1950s, he'd lost his stomach for law. One day his desire was gone and courtroom machinations no longer interested him. He was, as William Ward Daniels described it at the time, 'a different man' a man far more concerned with a leisurely and reclusive retirement than with the daily torment of a Manhattan legal practice.

Privately, Bill Daniels had explained it to his son. Zenger's retirement was somehow connected to the Sandler estate. But it never really made much sense. A visit or two by Zenger to the Sandler mansion and the attorney had decided it wasn't for him after all.

Now, two decades later, who cared anymore? Who even remembered? Thomas had never known his father's partner well.

The small airplane arrived in Nantucket at twelve fifteen. From the airport Thomas took a taxi to the residence of the long-retired attorney.

The taxi found Zenger's home with little difficulty. Zenger lived in a rambling, white-shingled old house on a promontory which dramatically overlooked the ocean. Thomas saw a curtain move near a downstairs window as he stepped from a long blue Chrysler taxi and paid the driver. Thomas glanced around as he passed through a gate and followed a flagstone path across a brownish green lawn. A comfortable site to spend one's later years, he thought. Free from crime, pollution, and the real world.

Beyond the old house, and to the side of the promontory, a path led down to the ocean. The surf broke briskly against the sand beach which bordered Zenger's land. A sturdy wooden pier jutted out into the water.

Curiously, Thomas noted that two large pleasure boats-Chris Craft they appeared to be, the type used by sportsmen for deep water fishing -were tied up to the pier, rocking somewhat with the waves. Obviously somebody, Thomas thought, liked to venture into the deep waters beyond the Nantucket shore. Obviously Zenger, his father's former partner, since the boats were tied to Zenger's pier.

Zenger's daytime housekeeper, a dowdy dark-haired woman named Mrs.

Clancy, opened the solid oak front door.

"Mr. Daniels?" she asked.

Thomas nodded. He was taken to a downstairs sitting room congested with old overstuffed furniture. There sat Adolph Zenger.

The old man, considerably whitened and wrinkled since the last time Thomas had seen him, sat in a large leather armchair. An afghan covered his lap. Before him was a paneled window overlooking Nantucket Sound. Zenter's gaze did not leave the Water.

"Come in," he said as Thomas stood somewhat uncomfortably after walking a few feet into the room.

"I already am' said Thomas.

Zenger turned toward the younger man. The aging face creased into a slight grin.

"I know," he said. I'm not blind."

"You look well," said Thomas.

"Damn you!" snapped Zenger with convincing bitterness.

"What?"

"You know you've got one God-damned foot in the grave when people say that to you," he said.

"People stop asking you how you are and start telling you how well you look. Do I look that bad?"

"I only meant-" "It's obvious what you meant. Most people my age are dead." He eyed his visitor with keen interest.

"So. Bill Daniels's boy come up to see me. How long have you been practicing law now, Tommy?"

"Six years."

"Ever won a case?"

"Mr. Zenger," Thomas said with fading patience,

"I-"

"Answer me, God damn it, or I'll have your obscenely young ass heaved out of here!"

"Of course I've won cases," said Thomas evenly.

"You'd never know it, boy," he said.

"Never know you were Bill Daniels's kid. You haven't learned a thing."

Thomas was silent. Then the sharp old eyes mellowed and the smile was more friendly.

"I've had you on the defensive since you came into this room," said Zenger.

"Be that way in a courtroom, boy, and you're dead ' Proud of his point, Zenger eased back in his chair and offered his hand to his visitor.

Thomas smiled and took it.

"I appreciate the lesson'" said Thomas.

"But nothing's changed.

I'm still not all that interested in courtrooms' ' "Rubbish," snorted Zenger.

"You came up here because you're working on a case. What do you think I am, senile? You're your fathers son. Bloodlines don't wash out in the bath. You're even starting to look a little like Bill." "Am I?" Thomas was genuinely surprised.

"Yes, yes" said Zenger, drawing out the words and looking the younger man up and down.

"Don't forget I knew Bill way back when he was your age. A hundred years ago or whatever it was.

Hungry?"

"I could eat something."

"You damned well better. I've had lunch fixed for both of us. If I don't drop going from this room to the next we're all set. If I drop, go ahead without me" Zenger climbed to 'his feet with the help of a sturdy cherry wood cane. Thomas put out his hand to help, but Zenger motioned the hand away. The older man's physical movements were slow, to a degree where Thomas was embarrassed for him. But after a few moments of fumbling, Zenger was able to move to the adjoining dining room, a small cozy room with two dark beams across the ceiling and a bright window which looked out on a small garden area and the water beyond. A china cabinet stood before one wall and a ship's barometer dominated another.

Zenger spoke as they sat down.

"Ynow why I live up here now and not in New York?"

Thomas asked why.

"I figure that anything as slow-moving as I wouldn't live long in the city. I would have been hit by a bus or had a knife perforate my ribs.

What do you think of that?"

Thomas shrugged noncommittally.

Lunch was a seafood salad. A bottle of chablis appeared.

Zenger's mock belligerence was gone now. He and Thomas talked amiably.

Zenger dwelled on how sorry he had been to hear of the passing of Daniels, Senior, a year earlier. But, of course he excused himself, he'd been unable to travel and attend the funeral. Then Zenger asked about the law firm, wanting to know with glee who was using whom and for what. Thomas gave him as much gossip as he could, but never mentioned the fire.

Gradually the old man's attention lagged. He gazed off away from Thomas and out the dining-room window. His eyes squinted.

"See that?" he asked.

Thomas looked.

"See what?"

"The ocean," Zenger answered softly and almost affectionately.

"Look as far as you can, across the waves, all you see is water." The eyes twinkled and the eyebrows were raised. He looked back to Thomas quickly Daniels was considering the old man carefully, as if Zenger had gone soft for a few seconds.

"Someday, Tommy," Zenger continued, 'someday soon, I'm going to take a long trip. Beneath the waves. And I won't be coming back."

"You look healthy to me," Daniels offered.

The old man scoffed,

"Got nothing to do with it'" he said.

"When it's your time to go, you go. Simple as that. For me, I'd like to go beneath the waves." Zenger looked old in the afternoon light.

The housekeeper appeared. She cleared the plates and served coffee. At length, a different Zenger spoke.

"Enough of the bullshit' His voice was upbeat now, a total change.

"You didn't come up here for the salt air. You said something on the telephone about Victoria Sandler."

"That's right, I wanted to know about her. And the family."

"Know what?"

Thomas shrugged.

"Everything. Whatever you know." Thomas saw a flicker of suspicion in Zenger's eyes.

"Why?" asked Zenger.

"The old woman just died."

"I know. We do have newspapers up here. But you didn't just come because you had a funny curiosity."

Thomas folded his hands together and remained silent while cream for the coffee was served. When they were alone-again, he spoke.