Alex Barclay - Harm's Reach

‘Have you had many dealings with Robert Prince?’ said Ren.

‘Yes, I’ve met him a few times while working on this.’

‘And what’s he like?’ said Ren.

‘Well, to set aside my PR hat,’ said Barbara, ‘he’s business-like, brusque...’

‘Really?’ said Ren.

‘He’s a take-charge kind of guy,’ said Barbara. ‘I get it, he’s a successful man, he’s used to doing things his way.’

‘Had you met him before the renovation project?’ said Ren. ‘Do you know much about him?’

‘Just what I get from the media or anecdotal stuff from my relatives. Why do you ask?’

‘I’m just trying to get a sense of the family,’ said Ren. ‘The Princes are the closest to family that Laura Flynn had.’

‘Well, I know that family is very important to Robert Prince. During the renovation — it would have been late November — we found some things belonging to his ancestors. There were papers and letters from Patrick Prince, his great-grandfather, correspondence from one of the old law firms in town, Redmond O’Loughlin. The letters were sealed, we didn’t open them, obviously... but there were other letters connected to Robert’s grandfather, Walter.’

Letters that you mention with no small amount of distaste.

‘What kind of letters?’ said Ren.

‘It’s not a very pleasant story and, to be honest, it would be embarrassing for the Princes if it got out,’ said Barbara. ‘This goes way back. A lot of the Irish who emigrated to Butte weren’t very literate. But Patrick Prince was taught to read by the local priest, and went on to become a very well-educated man, as did his children. When his son, Walter, was in his early teens, he helped the Irish immigrants to write letters home... I think his father was encouraging him to be... kind. Anyway, he obviously never mailed any of them... they were all still there.’

‘That’s a terrible thing to do,’ said Ren.

‘And I can’t think of any other reason to do it apart from spite,’ said Barbara. ‘It’s not like these people were revealing any great secrets when they were dictating these letters. It was just to let their families know how they were doing.’ She paused. ‘I don’t think Walter Prince was a very nice man.’

‘Really?’ said Ren.

‘I know my grandmother certainly didn’t think so,’ said Barbara.

‘Why not?’ said Ren.

‘He was... just unpleasant, by all accounts.’ She paused. ‘We had a young journalist come here last year who was working on a piece about the renovation of the mansion. The project got a federal grant and this young man’s nose was out of joint because the family is so wealthy. But, there you go, wealthy people take advantage of these kinds of opportunities — I guess that’s why they’re wealthy. This kid uncovered a story about Walter Prince. There was a terrible case from 1919 — the Orchard Girls... Three young girls disappeared in Butte, mostly from disadvantaged families, broken homes... One, she was a young girl from an Irish family, she was only ten years old, was found raped and murdered in a culvert on the outskirts of town. The second girl, she was Irish too, was last seen in the same area, but never found. And the third one was a young Mexican girl whose father worked at the orchard. He was the last to see her alive. Rumors went around about him and he became the prime suspect. But he had a lot of supporters, people who said he doted on his daughter, he was good to all the kids in the area, he didn’t have a bad bone in his body. Anyway, he was found beaten to death shortly afterwards: a group of vigilantes caught him on the way home one night, tortured him to try to get him to confess, then killed him. Apparently, the ring leader was Walter Prince. He would have only been about sixteen at the time.’

‘And... this young journalist was going to have this article published?’ said Ren.

‘None of the newspapers here would touch it,’ said Barbara. ‘He was going to publish it online... until he got a Cease and Desist from the Princes’ lawyers as soon as they got wind of it.’

‘Do you know the journalist’s name?’ said Ren.

‘Yes, but he passed away a few months back,’ said Barbara.

Curiouser and curiouser.

‘Drugs,’ said Barbara. ‘His name was Jonathan Black.’

Ren Googled him and read a small piece on his death — it had happened in January and was classified as an accidental overdose. One of his friends was interviewed, said she was in shock because she knew that Jonathan wasn’t a user. She had met him two days before he died, said he was in high spirits, that he was working on a big story, that he didn’t have any history of depression...

Death by rattling the bones of the Prince family skeletons?

‘What did you do with the Prince items you found?’ said Ren.

‘I packaged everything up and mailed it to Robert Prince in New York with a note asking him to call me when he received it,’ said Barbara. ‘He did, and he thanked me. I suggested we try to get the immigrants’ letters mailed to their descendants in Ireland, but he wouldn’t hear of it, because it would have shown his grandfather, Walter, in a very bad light. He said that he wasn’t even going to open them, that he would shred them and he asked me to treat the whole matter as confidential, which of course I did. You’re the law, so I can obviously say it to you.’

‘And were there other items in the box?’ said Ren.

‘Yes — family photographs, things like that. I took a look at the photos, thinking I could maybe use them in our little history room — we’ve set one of the rooms aside and there is an audio-visual presentation and people can get a sense of what it was like in the house, things like that. But when I mentioned this to Robert Prince, he said absolutely not.’

‘Was there anything strange or inappropriate in the photos?’ said Ren.

‘No,’ said Barbara. ‘Not in my opinion. They’re just of the Prince family, some of their neighbors at a picnic on the lawn. No illegitimate children or ladies half-undressed—’

Ren laughed.

‘But what really got to me was that he had a few photos of the Prince Christmas Ball... his grandfather and grandmother hosted a ball at the mansion every Christmas Eve and it was a huge event — I think there was only one year, two at most, where it was hosted elsewhere. Anyway, the invitations were like gold dust. They’re the kinds of photos people want to see when they come to visit a historic house like this.’

What was Robert Prince’s issue?

‘How are you with the preparations on the house?’ said Ren.

‘It’s all on track,’ said Barbara. ‘It will be beautiful. We’re using the launch to revive the Christmas Eve ball.’

‘Well, good for you,’ said Ren.

‘I love this old place,’ said Barbara. ‘I’ll be glad to see it fully restored.’

‘When did you last speak with Robert Prince?’

‘That time when he called to thank me for the package.’

‘And how was he?’ said Ren.

‘He was thankful, polite, but I sensed a certain tension,’ said Barbara. ‘I’m sure that realizing that you have a family member who carried out such a callous act as Walter Prince... well, it can’t have been easy. He did say that he was looking forward to the house being restored, being back for the opening, but I wasn’t sure he meant it. And he hasn’t been in contact since.’ She paused. ‘Come to think of it, I sent a second package and he didn’t call to thank me for that.’

‘What was in that?’ said Ren.

‘An army badge, 1st Special Forces. We found it in a garden shed after the first package had already gone. I didn’t know who it belonged to. I wrote a letter to him to say to let me know what he found out, but he never did. A few weeks passed and I did my own bit of research and, would you believe it, it was his father’s, Desmond Lamb’s. Everyone saw Desmond Lamb as kind of a nobody, which is terrible. You know... just the gardener who married the rich employer’s daughter. It certainly didn’t seem like some great passion brought them together. I don’t know why his military history was kept hidden. Apparently, these 1st Special Forces guys had been deployed to Japan, then sent on a secret mission to South Vietnam in 1957, well before the war. Desmond Lamb had been brave, but I get the feeling Robert had always thought him weak. Though I suppose beside a man like Walter Prince, anyone would seem reduced.’