Bombshell

“Nothing in my personal mail at the house, or in my private email. But of course no one would be able to get my private email.”

“Do you know if Tommy received any such threats?” Savich asked.

“No, not that he mentioned. You know, Agent Savich, I have never paid too much attention to protests in the street or to random threatening letters. It would seem to me that you in the FBI always know more about such people, and such matters, than  I do.”

“Indeed we do, Mr. Cronin,” Savich said. “And so that would bring us back to information you can help us with, more personal matters.”

Mrs. Cronin said in a deep, strong voice, “Very well, Agent Savich, ask your questions.”

“Let’s begin with Tommy,” Sherlock said. “Do either of you know where Tommy was Friday night or what he would usually be doing on Friday nights?”

“Tommy was our beloved grandchild, Agent Sherlock,” Mrs. Cronin said, “but since he got busy at college we saw him far less than we would have liked. You will have to ask his friends at school.”

“Agents are interviewing his friends at Magdalene right now, Mrs. Cronin. Did you meet any of Tommy’s college friends?”

Mr. Cronin said, “Tommy has brought a number of college friends here upon occasion, as well as his friends from childhood. I remember when he brought his girlfriend here for Thanksgiving. He was proud of that girl, besotted.”

Mrs. Cronin said, “We were distressed because she was a very unfortunate choice, but Tommy is—was—young and experimenting, and we thought he would get over her, given time and experience.”

“Why did you think she was an unfortunate choice, Mrs. Cronin?” Sherlock asked.

“It became obvious to us she was using Tommy to gain entrée to our world, probably sleeping with him to keep him interested. I even saw her making notes while they were here, saw her messaging on her phone. She was doubtless writing down what Palmer said to post on a blog, or some such thing.

“Her name is Melissa Ivy, and she is a sophomore at George Washington, a communications major.”

Mr. Cronin said, “When we asked her what she intended to do with her communications degree, she told us she wanted to become a TV news anchor. Many things fell into place. It should have been clear to Tommy as well, but it didn’t appear to be. He was so young. We asked how they’d met. We were not surprised to learn she had sought Tommy out. I even chanced to see them kissing. I know, I know, they are young, but still—we had no wish to see her here after that.”

“Tommy called me in early December,” Mrs. Cronin said. “He wanted her to come over on Christmas Eve, when all the family gathers here. He was upset when we told him we did not wish to have her in our home again.” Mrs. Cronin sighed. “He was angry, demanded to know why we didn’t like her. I was honest, told him she was using him, that she was even taking notes during her visit here, that it wouldn’t surprise me if she’d tried to sell her ‘exclusive’ with us to the tabloids.

“Tommy didn’t come Christmas Eve. We never saw him again after Thanksgiving. We regretted his absence, as did his Aunt Marian and his sisters, but what I told him was honestly what we thought, it was the truth.”

He was twenty years old and in love, for heaven’s sake, Sherlock thought, and wondered how the Avilla Cronin she’d read about had become so rigid and judgmental. She could only imagine the intense and never-ending scrutiny that had colored their every interaction because of Mr. Cronin’s position over the years, particularly after the world’s economies had almost imploded.

Mrs. Cronin said, “I imagine she broke off with him when she realized we’d seen through her. If only I’d been able to see Tommy again, before he—” She swallowed. “Tommy was such a bright boy, a very high GPA, higher even than yours, Palmer, or his father’s, at Magdalene. He’d laugh when we asked him what he was doing besides studying. He didn’t have all that much time to socialize, he told us; he had to study too hard.”

Mr. Cronin said, “So you see, don’t you, Agent Savich, that Tommy simply didn’t have the time to stir up a lot of enmity from anyone. I’m sure some students were jealous of him because of his grades, but surely not because of his connections. After all, most of the students at Magdalene come from families of position and wealth.”

“He tended to be a loner,” Mrs. Cronin said, “not very big on parties or drinking. That’s not to say he wasn’t popular, because he was, maybe not in high school, but he was admired and rewarded at Magdalene for his fine mind and his hard work.