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“How long was she with you?”

“About a year.”

“What sort of person was she?”

“Ladylike. Intelligent and fine appearing. About thirty-five years old. She was a widow and had lost her husband just before she came to Buffalo and was dressed in mourning. She had been employed in a responsible position at Stewart’s in New York before coming to Buffalo. I never heard of anything in the least against her until the time of her trouble when she came to board with me.”

“Was she there at Mr. Cleveland’s expense?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say.”

“But you wouldn’t say that she was not there at his expense?”

“No, of course I couldn’t say that. Mrs. Halpin was very much depressed and broken down by her trouble, and she drank some, but that made it worse.”

What about the night Maria Halpin was taken to the Providence Lunatic Asylum? he asked her. “Was she taken to the asylum against her will?”

“Yes, of course, she didn’t want to go.”

“Who took her?”

“A policeman.”

“Was his name Watts?”

“Yes, it was.”

“Was there anyone else?”

“Yes.”

“Was it Dr. King?”

“Yes.”

“How long was she at the asylum?”

“Seven days.”

Mrs. Baker’s recollection was faulty. Records from the asylum indicate that Maria Halpin was a patient for three days.

“Was she under the influence of liquor at the time she was taken?”

“Yes.”

“What was the boy called?”

“Oscar Folsom.” Mrs. Baker said it was a name chosen by Cleveland, to honor his best friend.

“Is he now in the family of Dr. King?” All Mrs. Baker could say was that she believed this to be the case.

When it was finally time to go, the Boston Journal reporter thanked Mrs. Baker for everything and returned to his hotel room for the night. The next morning was Sunday—perfect for knocking on doors. He went to 476 Franklin Street—an address he got either from Reverend Ball or straight out of the city directory. There, on the front porch enjoying the morning breeze, was Milo A. Whitney, Maria Halpin’s former lawyer.

Whitney was now fifty-six years old. His daughter, an infant when Maria Halpin had first hired him to represent her in the lawsuit against Grover Cleveland, was now a little lady of eight. Like Dr. Ring and Mrs. Baker, Whitney did not want to say much. John Cresswell had already been to see him, and before Cresswell it had been the Reverend Ball. There were other people who knew far more than he did about Maria Halpin, and yet it was being made to seem as if the “whole matter” rested with him. It was not right. He also said his memory was hazy. He couldn’t recall the year when Maria had come to see him. He thought it was sometime in 1876, but more likely 1877. In any event, the whole case struck him as an “outrage.” No, he said, breach of promise was not alleged, only kidnapping and false arrest. He had to drop the lawsuit because it had been “compromised.” If he had had his way, the case would have been filed and brought to trial, but he had no choice except to step aside once Maria’s brother-in-law had interfered.

Whitney said that Cleveland had paid Maria Halpin $500 to go away.

The reporter closed his notebook. There were three other crucial witnesses listed in Reverend Ball’s signed statement: Colonel John Byrne and the department store merchants Flint and Kent; but for some reason, the reporter decided to leave Buffalo without speaking to any of them. He may have been eager to get back to Boston to write his story and scoop the Evening Telegraph. He later explained, “I did not think it necessary to pursue the inquiry further.” That was a strange thing for any journalist to admit. Certainly it would have been interesting to hear what these three prominent citizens had to say. Had he probed deeper, the reporter would have ascertained several interesting facts. Colonel Byrne was no longer the police chief. He was now working in the private sector—he owned the Buffalo Detective Agency. His partner in the firm was former police officer Robert Watts, who figured so prominently in the Maria Halpin scandal.

The reporter returned to Boston and presented his findings to Zemro Smith.