Where Love Has Gone (29 page)

father didn’t. Now, maybe Steve will feel free to speak up. He’d never have dared while Tony was alive.”

I thought of the glowering young man I had seen in the funeral parlor. I’d thought there might have been something between them because of the protective way he held her arm. “I’m sure he will.”

She dried her eyes again. “What are you going to do about Renzo?” “Nothing,” I said, “if I can locate him and get the letters before Thursday.” “And if you can’t?”

I made my voice harsh. “On Thursday, Mrs. Hayden will make her deal with him. When they meet to exchange the letters for the money, I’ll be there with the police.”

She sat silent for a moment, thinking. “Where can I reach you tomorrow afternoon?” “I’ll be moving around. Better let me call you.”

“Okay.” She took a small notebook out of her handbag and scribbled a telephone number. She tore the page out and gave it to me. “That’s my home number. Call me there at four o’clock. I’ll see if I can find Renzo for you.”

8

__________________________________________

“What do you think, Sally?” Marian Spicer asked, putting the two containers of coffee on the desk between them. “Is the child really disturbed?”

The psychologist opened her container and took a sip of the black coffee. “Of course she’s disturbed. If she weren’t, she wouldn’t be here. Exactly how much, however, is difficult to tell. If you’re asking if she’s violently disturbed, if she has tendencies toward paranoia, say, I don’t think so. At least none that I’ve been able to discover up to now. Of course there’s always the chance that they’ll reveal themselves later.”

“She’s till not talking?”

“Not very much. I did learn one thing, though.” Marian looked at her questioningly.

“It’s not much. But at least it’s a place to start. Dani seems to have a strong need of reassurance about her mother’s love for her.”

“That seems to indicate a sense of guilt toward her mother.”

The psychologist smiled. “Come now, Marian. You know better than to jump to conclusions like that. A certain amount of guilt toward your parents is inevitable.”

“I mean guilt over a specific act.”

“What you really mean is that Dani feels guilty about taking away her mother’s lover?” “Yes. First sexually, then physically, by death.”

Sally Jennings lit a cigarette and took another sip of coffee. “Part of what you say is right, of course. But it’s recent and not necessarily conclusive. What we are looking for is something basic, something buried inside Dani that she’s reluctant having us know about. If we could pry that out of her, we’d have an idea which way to go.”

“Judge Murphy had me get a transcript of the parents’ divorce proceedings.” “Oh?” Sally’s eyebrows went up. “What did you find out?”

“Nothing much. You know how those things are. Everything is arranged before they get into court. But there was one thing. At the very end of the hearing, Dani’s mother tried to cut Colonel Carey out of any visiting privileges.”

“That’s normal in a way. Every parent is jealous of the other parent.”

“But she gave a beaut of a reason. She said that Colonel Carey was not really Dani’s father.” Sally sat thoughtfully for a moment.

“What are you thinking, Sally?”

“Not about that. That doesn’t surprise me. Nothing surprises me anymore when two parents meet in a divorce court. What I’m wondering is whether Dani knows it.”

“Do you think she might?”

“Children have a way of learning the best-kept secrets. If she does know we could be on the completely wrong track.” Sally looked at the probation officer. “If she’d only loosen up. Then, at least, I’d know what to recommend.”

“And if she doesn’t.”

“You know the answer to that one as well as I do, Marian. I’d have to send her up to Perkins for ninety days’ observation.”

Marian didn’t answer.

“There’s nothing else I could do. We can’t afford to take any chances. We must be certain that the child isn’t really disturbed, perhaps even paranoid before we dare let her resume anything remotely resembling a normal life.”

Marian heard the frustration in the psychologist’s voice. “Maybe you won’t have to. Maybe she’ll start talking this afternoon.”

“I hope so,” Sally said fervently. “When do you see Dani’s mother?” “This afternoon. I’d better get moving.”

Later that afternoon Marian followed the butler through the large foyer, past a beautiful circular marble staircase, down a hallway that led to another wing of the house. It was a beautiful home, she thought, not like the usual places she came to during her investigations. Everything about it reflected the artistic sense of values of its owner.

At the end of the hallway, the butler opened a door. “Go right in, madam. Miss Hayden’s expecting you.”

The studio was large and sunny, the north wall a solid sheet of glass. Through it Marian could see the harbor, the Bay Bridge and beyond that Oakland.

Nora was working in front of the window, an arc welder, spitting a flame, in her hand. Her face was covered with a heavy protective mask and glasses. She wore a faded and stained pair of coveralls and thick gloves. She glanced toward Marian. “I’ll be just a moment,” she said, her voice muffled by the mask.

Marian nodded and stood watching her. She was working with thin strips of metal, quickly welding them across the basic framework of an armature. The outline was still too indefinite for Marian to be able to determine what it was intended to be. She turned and glanced around the studio.

Scattered on tables were various sculptures and statues, all in different stages of work. Wood, stone, metal, wire. Anything and everything that lent itself to shaping by the human hand. On one large wall was a series of framed photographs and drawings. Marian walked over to look at them.

There was one large charcoal sketch, the original drawing of the statue of
The Dying Man
,

which was now in the Guggenheim Museum in New York. Next to it was a photograph of
Woman in the Net
, which had won Nora the Eliofheim Award. Higher on the wall was a giant mural photograph of the stone bas-relief
Peaceful Is a Woman’s World
, commissioned by the United Nations. There were also sketches and photographs of other works, but those were the three Marian recognized.

She heard a metallic sound and turned. Nora was cutting off the flame of the welding arc. It went out in a burst of blue and she put down the torch. She pushed the mask up on her head and pulled off her gloves. “I’m sorry about holding you up, Miss Spicer. But some things just won’t wait.”

Marian didn’t answer. She waited for the next question. The inevitable one. How is Dani? It didn’t come.

Instead, Nora took off the mask, her hand leaving a black smudge on her cheek. “I’m way behind in my work. This whole affair has raised hell with my production schedule.”

“I’ll try not to hold you up too long,” Marian said.

Nora looked at her and Marian wondered if she had sensed the sarcasm underlying the words. “We’ll have tea while we talk.” She pressed a button on the wall near her workbench.

Almost immediately the butler opened the door. “Yes, mum?” “We’ll have tea, Charles.”

He nodded and closed the door. Nora crossed to a small couch arranged in a conversation grouping with a few chairs and a coffee table. “Please sit down.”

Marian sat down opposite her.

“I suppose you want me to tell you about Dani.” Marian nodded.

“I don’t really know what to say.” Nora took a cigarette from a box on the coffee table. “Dani is really a very ordinary child.”

Marian couldn’t be sure whether Nora said this with approval or disapproval. It almost sounded as if she considered it some sort of failing. “‘Ordinary’ varies from child to child,” she said. “We’ve already learned from our examinations that Dani is a highly intelligent and perceptive child.”

Nora looked at her. “Is she? I’m glad to hear that.” “You seem surprised.”

“I am, in a way,” Nora admitted. “But then I suppose no parent is truly aware of the capability of her own children.”

Marian didn’t answer. Parents who were interested were aware. “Tell me about Dani’s behavior at home generally. I already have a pretty good idea of how she behaved at school.”

Nora looked at Marian with curiosity. “You went to Miss Randolph’s this morning?”

Marian nodded. “They seem to like her very much there. Both the teachers and Dani’s fellow pupils seemed to think she was a very nice girl.”

She didn’t add that they thought it strange that Dani never expressed much interest in the usual

activities of the girls there. As a matter of fact she was known as a loner. She seemed to prefer the company of adults to that of her own age group, though at parties or dances she mingled very well.

“I’m glad to hear that,” Nora said.

The butler came in and they were silent while the tea was served. When Charles bowed and left, Nora looked across at Marian. “Where shall I begin?”

“Anywhere you like. The more we know about Dani, the better equipped we’ll be to help her.”

Nora nodded. “Dani led an ordinary life here at home. Until a few years ago she had a nurse—a governess who had been with her since she was a baby. Then Dani decided she was getting too old for that, so I let her go.”

“She decided?” Marian asked. “You mean Dani?” “Yes. She felt she wasn’t a child any longer.” “Who looked after her then?”

“Dani was always quite self-sufficient. Violet, that’s my maid, looked after her clothes just as she did mine. Outside of that, Dani didn’t seem to need any special attention.”

“Did she go out much?” Marian asked, “I mean with girls and boys her own age?”

Nora thought for a moment. “Not that I can recall. But then I’ve been very busy, you know. I didn’t keep track of Dani’s social life. I remembered how much I used to resent my mother’s always asking me where I’d been. I didn’t want Dani to go through that. Once, a few months ago, she came in from a party and I asked her how it had been. She said all right, but when I asked her what they’d done, she said the usual things. Danced and played games. Then she looked at me in an odd way and said in a peeved voice, ‘You know the things, Mother. Kid games. They’re so dull and childish, I’m bored with them,’ I knew just what she meant. I felt the same way when I was her age.”

“How did she get along with Mr. Riccio?” Marian asked.

Nora gave her a curious glance. “Fine,” she said quickly. Much too quickly, Marian thought. Something evasive seemed to come into her voice. “She liked Rick very much. But then she always seemed to like my friends much better than her own.”

“You mean male friends?”

Nora hesitated, then nodded. “I suppose so. I don’t have many women friends, because of my work.”

“Do you think Dani might have formed some kind of attachment for Mr. Riccio?”

Again the slight hesitation. “It’s possible. Dani always seemed to favor men. I remembered how much she liked my second husband. When Rick came into the house she may have transferred that feeling to him. I suppose it was some kind of a father thing.”

Marian nodded.

“Her father stopped coming to see her when Dani was about eight, you know. She was very upset about it. No matter how many times I tried to explain why he didn’t come.”

“I’ve been curious about that,” Marian said. “Exactly what was the reason he gave for stopping

the visits?”

“I can’t really say. He was drinking a great deal at the time. We’d been divorced because of his excessive drinking. And in the years immediately afterward he seemed to get worse. Drinking more heavily than ever and living in La Jolla, on a boat he rented out for charter. I guess after a while it just go to be too much trouble to come to San Francisco to see Dani.”

“I see,” Marian said. “And what did you tell Dani?”

“That her father was busy and couldn’t get time off from his work to come and see her. What else could I say?”

“Did Dani ever mention any boys or boys that she was particularly interested in?” Nora shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Any man perhaps?”

It seemed to Marian that Nora’s face paled slightly. “Exactly what are you getting at, Miss Spicer?”

Marian watched her steadily. “I’m trying to find out whom Dani may have had sexual relations with.”

Nora’s face was now definitely pale. “You mean?” Marian nodded.

“My God!” Nora was silent for a moment. “She’s not—” “No, she’s not pregnant.”

Nora let out a sigh of relief. She forced a smile. “At least we can be thankful for that.”

Marian noticed the hint of tears in the corners of her eyes. For the first time she began to feel sorry for the woman opposite her. “Do you think it might have been Mr. Riccio?” she asked.

“No!” Nora said sharply. Then she hesitated. “I mean—I don’t know what to think. The fact that she has at all is quite a shock.”

“It always is.”

Nora’s voice was almost normal again. “I suppose so. It’s always a surprise to find that your child is so much more grown-up than you realized.”

That was a good way to put it, Marian thought. No hysterics, no condemnation, no blame. Just much more grown-up. “Was she alone with Mr. Riccio very often?”

“I suppose so. After all, he lived here.”

“But you had no idea that anything was going on between them?”

“No,” Nora said definitely. “None at all.” She looked at Marian, quick concern in her eyes. “Did

—did Dani say anything?”

Marian shook her head. “Dani won’t talk. That’s one of the things that makes it so difficult. Dani won’t talk about anything at all.”

She thought she saw some of the color come back into Nora’s face. “More tea, Miss Spicer?” Nora asked, the politeness coming back into her voice.

“No, thank you.”

Nora refilled her own cup. “What do you think they will do with Dani?”

“That’s hard to say,” Marian answered. “It’s completely up to the court. Right now there’s a good chance she may be sent to the Northern California Reception Center at Perkins for observation. The psychiatrists here can’t get enough out of her to make a recommendation.”

“But Dani’s not insane!”