After a long day of failed leads Toby stopped at St. Patrick’s Church to speak with his long time confidante and mentor Father O’Henry. Toby was on a search to find his heritage but time and time again was stopped by roadblocks. Coming from a long line of Irish immigrants Toby always felt at home with the parishioners of St. Pat’s. Many like himself were fresh faces in America and looking for a semblance of a community like the old country. They all knew the stories of the great fire that destroyed the city, but it was by God’s righteous power that St. Pat’s was unharmed and stood as a symbol to the Irish that they were meant to be here.

Time and time again Toby found himself consulting with Father O’Henry about all matters of business. Though he was a man of the cloth he knew how to best navigate the city’s underworld. Entering the church Toby nods to Finnigan the resident “peacekeeper.”

“Evenin’ Toby. The Father is in the confessional. Take a seat and he’ll be with ya in a few.”

Nodding once again Toby enters the pew and bows his head in prayer. After a few moments of silent contemplation Toby heard the door of the confessional open and a thick Irish accent quietly echo in the room. As Father O’Henry stepped out of the confessional he smiled and motioned for Toby to follow him into the back.

“Toby my son, it is so wonderful to see you again. I’ve missed you these last few weeks. I hope you aren’t getting into any trouble.” Toby smirked, “No worse than the trouble you stir up. I need some help finding something. An old business that was run out of Chicago, the city classified it as a paper mill but have never been able to produce records of a sale or even a single employee. As far as anyone knows this place never made a single sheet of paper.”

Father O’Henry furrows his brow and places a hand on his chin in thought. “I have heard of a building in the industrial park on the north side that was once inhabited by career criminals, but it’s been long since abandoned after the leader was killed in a gun battle. Why would you want to find such a pla-.”

Father O’Henry’s speech trails off as he notices young Toby’s head droop. With a slight quiver in his voice Toby repeated the harrowing words of the priest. “Criminal.. Killed? I’m sorry Father I need to find something out.” Without a word Toby walked past Father O’Henry and made his way out of the church.

Stepping onto the street Toby hailed a taxi instructing him to the north side industrial park. Sitting in the back seat Toby unfolded a small letter from his jacket pocket smoothing it out over his leg before reading it once again.

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My dearest Toby,

I wish I could have been with you throughout your childhood. As you should now know I have traveled to America in search of a better life for us all. Already I have become business partners with a Frenchman! Together we will be starting a paper mill in the city of Chicago. My next letter will contain money so you may bring the rest of the family to America and live with me. Look to my next letter for the new address of the business. I love you all very much.

Your father,

Toberius            
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Toby neatly folded note back into a square and tucked it into his jacket pocket once again. This was the first and only note he received from his missing father. Toby clenched his fist and focused his mind on the new found information.

“I will find out what happened.”