Where Love Has Gone (11 page)

“Then I’ll have my chauffeur follow us,” he said. “You may want it when we’re finished.”

He signaled with his hand and we began to move down the long driveway, the other cars filing along behind us. The gardener opened the gates and we passed through. There was a group of reporters standing outside, but they scattered to their cars when they saw we weren’t going to stop. Gordon signaled again and we turned west along California Street past the Grace Cathedral.

We both reached for the dashboard lighter at the same time. He laughed and gestured. I lit my cigarette, then held it for him.

“Thanks.” He didn’t look at me. “I hope you carry no grievance against me because of our previous encounter?”

I glanced at him. I remembered a picture I had once seen of Gene Tunney and Jack Dempsey at some sports dinner—Tunney was smiling but Dempsey’s face wore a black scowl. I knew now howe he had felt.

No matter how long ago it may have happened, nobody likes to remember a beating. I was no exception. I didn’t like it, but like everyone else I had to learn to live with it.

“Just see that you do as good a job for my daughter. I’ll have no complaints.”

He didn’t miss my evasion but he chose to disregard it. “Good. You can be sure that I will.”

I waited until we swung into Gough Street, then said, “All I know is what you told me over the

telephone or what I’ve read in the papers. Perhaps you can fill me in.”

“Of course.” He glanced at me curiously. “I trust I don’t have to elaborate on Nora’s relationship with Riccio?”

I shook my head. I knew Nora.

“They’d been quarreling all day,” he said. “From what I gather, Nora wanted to end their relationship, both business and personal. She asked him to leave the house immediately. He had a good thing going for him and wasn’t about to give it up.”

“Nora find another boy?” I asked.

Again the side glance. He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know and I didn’t ask. The police were already on the scene when I arrived. I didn’t think it prudent to inquire.”

“I see,” I said.

We turned west again on Market Street. “Apparently Riccio had followed Nora down to the studio from her room, still arguing. Dani was in her room trying to study when she heard her mother scream. She ran downstairs and saw Riccio advancing threateningly on her mother. Picking up the sculptor’s chisel from the table, she ran between them and stabbed Riccio in the stomach. When Riccio fell to the floor bleeding, the child got hysterical and started to scream. Charles came running into the room, followed by Nora’s maid. Nora told Charles to call the doctor on the house phone, then called me on the studio phone. I asked her to notify the police and to cooperate with them, but to make no statement until I arrived. I got there in about twenty minutes. The police arrived at least ten minutes before I did.”

I ground out my cigarette in the ashtray. “Now for the big one.” “Did Nora kill him? Is that what was on your mind?”

I nodded.

He answered very slowly. “I don’t think so. I spoke to both of them before any statements were made. Their separate stories were too mutually corroborative to be disputed.”

“They had time to agree on their stories.”

He shook his head again. “I’ve had too much experience with this sort of thing to be taken in. Besides, neither of them was in any condition to cook up a phony. They were both close to hysterics. It would have been impossible for them to be coherent enough to fabricate a story.”

“There were no other witnesses?” “None.”

“What happened then?”

“Dr. Bonner, who arrived before I did, took Nora upstairs and gave her a shot. Then I had Sergeant Flynn call you while I went down to Police Headquarters with Dani where she gave a statement. I read it to her and despite my advice she insisted on signing it. From Police Headquarters I went to the juvenile detention home, where Dani was given into custody of the juvenile authorities. Fortunately, I was able to persuade the probation officer to call the Juvenile Court judge who, upon

hearing Dr. Bonner’s recommendation, sent Dani home for the night. I took her to her grandmother’s and it was from there that I called you.”

We were on Portola Drive now, climbing up into the hills. I looked back. Nora’s Jag was right behind us, and off to the left I could see almost the whole city sprawled out. On the right I noticed the familiar sights of construction. We were coming to a big billboard.

THIS IS DIAMOND HEIGHTS

This was where I had come to buy our Christmas trees when Nora and I were first married. I remembered I had once considered it as a building site for my first project, but there had been a shoring problem because of the hills, and the city would not cooperate. But land was less plentiful now and more valuable. Apparently the authorities had seen the light.

I looked at the houses with a critical eye. They were doing a good job. I turned back to Gordon. “Exactly what made you decide to call me?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t really know. I had a hunch, I guess. I had the feeling that you’d be a good man to have around in a spot like this.”

“You thought that even after what Nora said the last time we were in court?”

He didn’t answer right away. When we reached the top of the hill we made a sharp right turn onto Woodside Avenue. A series of dull-green buildings loomed up on our right. We turned into a driveway and up and around behind the buildings. I noticed a small sign, CHILD INTAKE DIVISION.

Gordon stopped the car and shut off the motor, then turned to look at me. His voice was level and his eyes met mine squarely. “What I think doesn’t matter. It’s what you think that counts. The responsibility is yours. Either you’re her father or you’re not.”

He opened the door and got out. I heard an automobile come up behind us. I looked in the rear- view mirror and saw Nora’s Jaguar. Slowly I reached for the door handle.

8

__________________________________________

The reporters and photographers were all around us before Nora’s car came to a stop. Gordon gestured toward a door behind him. “Get her in there as quickly as you can.”

I nodded and pushed my way through to the door of the car. Nora got out first. I took her hand to steady her. The flashbulbs went off. She turned and both of us helped Dani out. Her hands were cold as ice; I could feel them trembling in mine.

“Don’t look at them, sweetie. Just come with me.”

Dani nodded silently and we started for the door. The reporters pressed against us, forcing us to

stop.

“Hold it for a picture, please!” one of them called.

I sensed Dani’s almost instinctive obedience to the voice of authority. I kept nudging her. “Keep

moving, honey.”

Gordon managed to join us and we made a tight knot around Dani as we pushed our way to the door.

“Lay off, fellows,” Gordon pleaded. “Give the kid a break!”

“That’s what we want to do, lawyer man!” a voice from the back of the crowd shouted raucously. “A front-page picture of the youngest murder defendant you ever had!”

Dani’s face went white and her knees sagged. I locked one arm around her waist and flailed out angrily with the other. “Leave her alone or I’ll break your cruddy necks!” I shouted.

Suddenly they were quiet. I don’t know whether it was my anger or their own embarrassment over that stupid remark, but those closest to us fell back. I half dragged Dani through the doorway and Nora and Gordon followed. Gordon turned and closed the door.

Dani was sagging against me, her eyes half closed. She was so pale that the small amount of makeup on her face stood out sharply. I pressed her head against my chest and held her tight. “Take it easy, baby.”

I could feel her trembling. She tried to speak but no words came out. She shivered violently. “There’s a bench over there, Mr. Carey,” a white-uniformed nurse said. I hadn’t seen her come

up.

I led Dani to the bench and we sat down, her face still against my chest. The nurse bent over, a

bottle of smelling salts in her hand. “Give her a whiff of this, Mr. Carey,” she said sympathetically.

I took the bottle and passed it under Dani’s nostrils. The faintly pungent odor came up to me.

Dani sniffed, then coughed.

The nurse took the bottle and gave me a glass of water. I held it to Dani’s lips. She sipped, then sipped again slowly.

She looked up at me. Some of the color had come back into her face. “I’ll—I’ll be okay, Daddy,” she whispered huskily.

“Sure?”

She nodded. Her eyes were a deep violet like her mother’s, though softer and somehow gentler. But now they were suddenly old and tired and hurt. “I’ll get used to it, Daddy. It will just take a little time.”

“You don’t have to get used to anything!” I said angrily. She smiled. “Don’t worry, Daddy. I’ll be okay.”

I caught Nora’s eye. I knew that look. I’d seen it many times before when she looked at Dani and me. As if we were two people from another planet. A flash of the old bitterness crossed her face.

“Do you feel well enough to come to the desk, child?” the nurse asked.

Dani nodded. As she got to her feet I took her arm. She pushed my hand away and I knew she had seen the look on her mother’s face. “I can manage, Daddy.”

I followed her to the small registration desk. There was a sign on the painted bare wall—GIRL INTAKE. It looked a little like a cheap hotel.

Under that sign was another, smaller.

Girls will be allowed no makeup except one pale lipstick. Everything else must be checked at this desk before proceeding to the cottages
.

A quiet-looking gray-haired woman sat behind the desk.

“Your daughter doesn’t have to sign in again, Mr. Carey. She was already signed in last night.

All she has to do now is check her valuables.”

Dani placed her small purse on the desk. “I can keep a lipstick and a comb?” The woman nodded.

Dani opened the bag and took out a lipstick and comb. Then she took off her wristwatch and put it in the purse. She reached up and unclasped a single strand of pearls and put that in too. She started to take the ring from her finger, but it wouldn’t come off. She looked at the woman questioningly.

“I’m sorry, Dani,” the woman said gently.

Dani sucked her finger for a moment. Finally the ring came off, leaving a white band. She held it hesitatingly over the open purse for a moment, then turned and gave it to me. “Will you keep it for me, Daddy?”

There was something in her voice that made me look at the ring. I could feel the knots around my heart. Like it was a hot afternoon in La Jolla and she was six years old and I blew my last fifteen

bucks on a fourteen-carat gold ring for her birthday. I’d had her initials engraved on it—D. N. C. Danielle Nora Carey. I noticed where it had been expanded to make it larger as the years went by. For a moment I couldn’t speak. I just nodded and put the ring carefully into my pocket.

Just then the door opened again and old Mrs. Hayden came in. “Those wretched reporters! I gave them a piece of my mind!”

As she came toward us she looked at Dani. “Are you all right, child?” “I’m all right, Grandmother.”

“Time to go, Dani,” the gray-haired woman said quietly. “Miss Geraghty will take you to the cottages.”

Suddenly Dani seemed very much alone. A look of apprehension came into her face. Her eyes shadowed and darkened with fear.

Miss Geraghty spoke reassuringly. “Don’t be afraid, child. We’ll take good care of you.”

Dani took a deep breath. She walked toward her mother and raised her lips to kiss Nora’s cheek.

That was the moment when Nora chose to dramatic. “My baby!” she cried. “I won’t let them take you away from me!”

That was all the child needed. In a fraction of a second, she was weeping hysterically in her mother’s arms. In a moment everyone was around them, clucking sympathetically. That was another talent Nora had. Even the nurse, who must have been used to scenes like this, had tears in her eyes.

Quickly and professionally the nurse disengaged them and led Dani, still weeping, through another door. Over it was another sign—TO THE GIRLS’ COTTAGES.

Nora turned to Gordon, still weeping. He gave her his handkerchief and she covered her eyes quickly. But I got a glimpse of the triumph in them. I watched them go out the door, then turned to old Mrs. Hayden.

Her face was grim and sad. “Would you like to come back to the house for lunch, Luke? We have so much to talk about.”

“No, thanks,” I said. “I think I’ll go back to the motel and get some rest. I didn’t get any sleep at all last night.”

“Then tomorrow for Sunday dinner? No one else will be there. Just the two of us.”

I wondered what she had on her mind. The old lady never did anything without a reason. “I’ll see,” I said. “I’ll call you.”

She stared at me silently for a moment, then drew a deep breath. “You don’t have to be afraid of me, Luke. I love the child. I really do.”

There was a kind of pleading in her eyes that made me sure that she was telling the truth. It was the first time I’d ever seen her asking to be believed. “I know you do, Mother Hayden,” I said gently.

She looked at me gratefully. “Please call me either way.” “I will.”

She turned and I watched her go out the door. It closed and I turned to the gray-haired attendant who had gone back to her typewriter. “When can I visit my daughter?” I asked.

“The usual visiting hours are from two thirty to three on Sundays. But exceptions are sometimes made for new arrivals.”

“I can make it at that time.”

“Stop by the desk when you come, Mr. Carey. I’ll have a pass waiting for you.” “Thank you.”

I went out into the driveway. Nora’s car was gone and most of the reporters had left, but Gordon was standing near his black Cadillac talking to the two who remained. He gestured and I walked over.

“John Morgan of the
Chronicle
,” Gordon said, indicating the taller of the two, “and Dan Prentiss, AP.”

“I’d like to apologize for that stupid remark, Mr. Carey,” Morgan said. “I wouldn’t want you to think that all of us were like that.”