reason.”
Lewis read the impatience in Wally’s face when he gave her this final word. “This process can be frustrating.”
“Yes,” Wally said. “It’s just, your rules seem pretty unimportant to me right now.”
Lewis looked understanding. “I fought with the Anzac Corps in World War II. My fiancée back home, she … we were pregnant, though she never told me. I heard about the child—my son—from others once I returned home from the war, but by that time my girl had given him up for adoption. It had all been handled through a lawyer who refused to reveal any of the particulars, other than that the family had immigrated to America. Everyone said I should give up on it and go on with my life. Instead, I came here looking for my son. That was sixty-two years ago, and I’m still looking for him.”
“Sixty-two years,” Wally repeated. It sounded to her like forever.
“There are some government records I have never been able to access, despite the connections I’ve made over the years. I just know his name is in there somewhere, but …”
“I’m sorry.”
Lewis nodded. “Losing him has been the sorrow of my life, Wallis. So I appreciate your sadness and frustration. But I’ve handled thousands of cases for the society and there is something I have learned. There are worse things than not knowing, my dear. Answering your question might seem like the most important thing in the world, but it is not. If you place your quest ahead of everything else in your life, you will come to regret it.”
Wally thought about this. “Good speech. Does anyone ever listen?”
“No,” said Lewis, smiling a little at Wally’s feistiness. “By the time people arrive at our door, they are usually hell-bent. Nothing can stop them.”
“Like me,” Wally said.
“Like you,” Lewis agreed.
“I’ll do this on my own, but I’m not a detective or anything,” Wally said, feeling herself grasping now. “These resources of yours, can you hook me up with some of those?”
“I’m afraid not,” he answered, firm but sympathetic. “The situation is this, Wallis: over a long time—more than half a century now—we’ve helped a great many people, from all walks of life. All professions, all sectors of society. We’re a nonprofit organization and don’t accept fees for what we do. However, those we have helped often volunteer to become contributors of another kind.”
“Oh,” Wally said, getting it, “your clients become your sources?”
Lewis nodded. “We have associates inside law enforcement, in the government, the State Department, the judiciary. Intelligence agencies in several countries. Even some in the commercial sector who, in these days of cyber-communities and data mining and so forth, have access to more private information than all the others combined. Those who help us are often taking great risks. They violate laws and oaths and contracts to help in our searches.”
“I see.”
“We assure complete anonymity to all our sources, obviously. They are like a family to us, really. You understand?”
There was no argument left for Wally to make, and again she fought back her feelings of frustration, determined to show Lewis that this setback would not defeat her. Wally took out a piece of paper and wrote down Benjamin Hatch’s name and added, Entrepreneur. Possibly knew Yalena Mayakova in Russia, in the year 1992, or so . She passed the note to Lewis.
“You can add this to my file, anyway,” she said, “in case something else comes up and you can make a connection.”
Lewis took the note and read it. “I’ll do what I can, Wallis. I will review your file as well to see if anything can be updated. We will never stop looking.”
“Neither will I,” Wally said. She walked to the door and Lewis rose from his own chair to show her out. He stayed in the doorway to watch her go, and after a few steps she had a thought and turned back toward him. “I’m sorry about your son.” She meant
Lewis read the impatience in Wally’s face when he gave her this final word. “This process can be frustrating.”
“Yes,” Wally said. “It’s just, your rules seem pretty unimportant to me right now.”
Lewis looked understanding. “I fought with the Anzac Corps in World War II. My fiancée back home, she … we were pregnant, though she never told me. I heard about the child—my son—from others once I returned home from the war, but by that time my girl had given him up for adoption. It had all been handled through a lawyer who refused to reveal any of the particulars, other than that the family had immigrated to America. Everyone said I should give up on it and go on with my life. Instead, I came here looking for my son. That was sixty-two years ago, and I’m still looking for him.”
“Sixty-two years,” Wally repeated. It sounded to her like forever.
“There are some government records I have never been able to access, despite the connections I’ve made over the years. I just know his name is in there somewhere, but …”
“I’m sorry.”
Lewis nodded. “Losing him has been the sorrow of my life, Wallis. So I appreciate your sadness and frustration. But I’ve handled thousands of cases for the society and there is something I have learned. There are worse things than not knowing, my dear. Answering your question might seem like the most important thing in the world, but it is not. If you place your quest ahead of everything else in your life, you will come to regret it.”
Wally thought about this. “Good speech. Does anyone ever listen?”
“No,” said Lewis, smiling a little at Wally’s feistiness. “By the time people arrive at our door, they are usually hell-bent. Nothing can stop them.”
“Like me,” Wally said.
“Like you,” Lewis agreed.
“I’ll do this on my own, but I’m not a detective or anything,” Wally said, feeling herself grasping now. “These resources of yours, can you hook me up with some of those?”
“I’m afraid not,” he answered, firm but sympathetic. “The situation is this, Wallis: over a long time—more than half a century now—we’ve helped a great many people, from all walks of life. All professions, all sectors of society. We’re a nonprofit organization and don’t accept fees for what we do. However, those we have helped often volunteer to become contributors of another kind.”
“Oh,” Wally said, getting it, “your clients become your sources?”
Lewis nodded. “We have associates inside law enforcement, in the government, the State Department, the judiciary. Intelligence agencies in several countries. Even some in the commercial sector who, in these days of cyber-communities and data mining and so forth, have access to more private information than all the others combined. Those who help us are often taking great risks. They violate laws and oaths and contracts to help in our searches.”
“I see.”
“We assure complete anonymity to all our sources, obviously. They are like a family to us, really. You understand?”
There was no argument left for Wally to make, and again she fought back her feelings of frustration, determined to show Lewis that this setback would not defeat her. Wally took out a piece of paper and wrote down Benjamin Hatch’s name and added, Entrepreneur. Possibly knew Yalena Mayakova in Russia, in the year 1992, or so . She passed the note to Lewis.
“You can add this to my file, anyway,” she said, “in case something else comes up and you can make a connection.”
Lewis took the note and read it. “I’ll do what I can, Wallis. I will review your file as well to see if anything can be updated. We will never stop looking.”
“Neither will I,” Wally said. She walked to the door and Lewis rose from his own chair to show her out. He stayed in the doorway to watch her go, and after a few steps she had a thought and turned back toward him. “I’m sorry about your son.” She meant
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