“Back then a well-heeled miscreant could avoid stigma, so ‘vehicular accident’ might’ve been code for a one-car DUI. But some stigmas you’d need to take care of yourself. Like a socially embarrassing out-of-wedlock birth.”

He said, “Eddie’s married and the mother’s someone other than wifey? Yeah, that would be blush-inducing at the country club.”

“Even if Eddie was a bachelor playboy, burying a social inconvenience could’ve seemed like a grand idea.”

He thought. “I like it, Alex, let’s dig dirt on this charmer. Pun intended.”

He searched for obituaries on all three family members. Dr. George J. Del Rios’s was featured in the Times and the Examiner. He’d been an esteemed, certain-to-be-missed cardiologist on staff at St. Vincent Hospital as well as a faculty member at the med school where I sometimes taught. No final bio for his widow. Nothing on her at all.

Father Edward Del Rios, director of the Good Shepherd Orphanage of Santa Barbara, had perished when a bus ferrying children from that institution to the local zoo had veered off Cabrillo Boulevard on July 6, 1960. Several of the children had been injured, a few seriously, but all had recovered. The priest and the bus driver hadn’t been so lucky.

The Santa Barbara News-Press covered the crash on its front page, reporting that “several of the terrified youngsters describe the driver, Meldrom Perry, suddenly slumping over the wheel leading to the bus going out of control. The children also report that ‘Father Eddie’ made an heroic attempt to gain control of the vehicle. Both Perry, 54, of Vista, and Father Del Rios, just days from his 46th birthday, perished after being thrown free of the bus. But the man of God’s valiant attempts may have prevented an even worse disaster. An investigation has begun into allegations that Perry suffered from a prior heart condition, a fact known to the bus charter company, an outfit with previous violations on record.”

“Some playboy,” said Milo. “Poor guy was a damn hero.”

I said, “He lived in Santa Barbara so the house was probably rented out during his ownership.”

“And try finding a tenant. Okay, time to canvass the neighborhood, maybe some old-timer will remember that far back.”

“There’s another reason the house could’ve been left in trust: Father Eddie was in charge but he had siblings.”

“Seeing as he was Catholic?”

“Seeing as most people have siblings. If you can access any trust documents, they’ll list who else benefited.”

It took a while, but an appendix stashed in the bowels of the tax rolls finally yielded the data.

Two brothers, one sister, all younger than Father Eddie. Ferdinand and Mary Alice had passed away decades ago in their sixties, consistent with the genetic endowment bestowed by their parents.

The baby of the family, John Jacob Del Rios, was listed as residing in Burbank. Age eighty-nine.