“Partly that,” said Carol Canning. “But it wasn’t until much later that he found out what really happened, around the time we were married, in fact.”

“What do you mean?”

“What happened to his parents.”

“It says in his official biography that they both died in the war,” said Winsome.

“That’s true enough, love. At least, his mother died in a concentration camp.”

“And his father?”

“He was a member of the Volksdeutscher Selbstschutz.”

“What was that?” Banks asked.

“It was a paramilitary group made of up ethnic German Poles. Danny’s father was half German. They basically did all they could to help the German war effort, including massacring fellow Poles. For years Danny thought his father had died in the camp with his mother, when it’s not entirely impossible that he had helped put her there. One day an old family friend called by, a camp survivor. He knew Danny’s family. You can imagine how upsetting the news was for Danny. Of course, he was famous then. He felt he needed to keep it quiet. He was ashamed. It seemed unsavory. I suppose it helped that he couldn’t really remember his parents—after all, he hadn’t seen them since he was three—but even so, it’s a devastating thing to happen to someone, and no matter what he’s done, Danny isn’t without sensitivity.”

Banks could imagine how much it must have hurt and confused the young man. Perhaps if anyone were looking for a trigger to Caxton’s later behavior, that might have been it, though from what Carol Canning had said, he was already a man used to getting his way sexually, even if it meant being a bit rough. Still, something like that could rip your soul in two.

“What happened to him? The father?”

“Nobody knows. He might have died in the war or ended up living to a ripe old age in Germany—east or west—after it was all over. One thing’s for certain, he’ll be dead by now. Danny never talked about him again in my presence. I remember his expression when he was told the news. Face set like stone. Pale as a ghost. And he didn’t argue, didn’t contest it. He just left the room. When he came back, hours later, he acted normal, as if nothing had happened. Cracked a joke or two. That was Danny.”

Banks reconsidered his direction. “Let’s go back a bit,” he said. “You didn’t sound surprised at the accusation when I first mentioned it.”

“Am I surprised Danny shagged a fourteen-year-old? Not at all. He always liked them young. Am I surprised he was a bit rough with her? No. He never was a patient or considerate lover. Am I surprised you’re making such a fuss about it after all this time? Yes. Those were different times.”

“And stars like Danny Caxton were subject to different laws?”