Bully

by Gonzalez, J. F.

  “So when Robert was gone and Eva was passed out drunk, that’s when you and your friends were abused?” Tom asked gently.

  David nodded. Another tear rolled down his cheek.

  “And it was like you told me yesterday? They...paid you with drugs?”

  David nodded again, wiping his eyes with his fingers. “Yeah.”

  “And the three of you never talked about it?”

  “We did, but Raul begged us not to tell anybody,” David said. “He said if we did that...he’d be beaten and—"

  “Raul told you this?” Robert asked, his voice cracking.

  David nodded again, looking at Robert. “In looking back on it I...I got the impression shit had been going on a long time...that they used Raul for all kinds of stuff.”

  “Who’s they?” Gary Little asked. He’d been listening quietly as the exchange went on, and Tom noted he looked disturbed by what he was learning.

  “The guys who came to the house,” David said. He looked at Gary and Tom. He composed himself but his face was red and damp from tears. “I don’t remember their names.”

  “You remember the names of the cops, though?” Tom asked.

  “Not all of them, but some,” David said. “I basically remember the names of the guys that...” He shrugged. “I guess you could say they ran things while nobody was around the house.”

  Tom pounced on this new bit of information. “What kind of activities did they run?”

  “It was big stuff,” David said. “Drugs...all kinds of shit.”

  “How many people were involved?” Gary Little asked.

  “About half a dozen,” David said quickly. “These guys were always at the house. Whenever Eva was fucked up or Robert was gone, they were on the phone arranging things or making sure things went right. A couple others always made sure nobody else came around.”

  “What did they do?” Tom asked. His heart was pounding, his adrenaline rushing.

  “Can you name these men?” Gary Little asked again.

  David hesitated. His eyes flicked to William, who nodded. “You’re safe, David. What you say will not leave this room.”

  “You’ll continue to be under my protection,” Tom chimed in.

  David hitched in a sob and nodded. He wiped more tears from his cheeks. “I don’t remember the names of all of them but ... I got the impression some of them were involved with the city government. And I know one of them was the Chief of Police.”

  Tom perked up as this bit of information was confirmed. “Does the name Manning ring a bell?”

  “Yes! That was his name. Manning.” David nodded at Tom. “He wasn’t there much, but he was one of the ones who...who ran things.”

  “Anybody else?” Gary Little asked.

  David rattled off a list of descriptions that Tom jotted down; one man who was middle-aged with gray hair and always came dressed in ratted suits; Chief Manning, who was in his mid-forties at the time and in much better physical shape than he was now; an older man with sparse gray hair that sprouted along the back of his balding pate and a walrus mustache who also usually came dressed impeccably (“I got the impression he was some kind of city government guy,” David said, still fidgeting in his seat), another guy who looked so ordinary David had a hard time conjuring up his description (“guy looked like your average Joe; probably lived in the neighborhood, worked a nine-to-five, had a couple kids around my age or younger...you know...nothing too out of the ordinary”); the last one was a shocker—Father James Clavell, Pastor of St. Mark’s Catholic Church in Gardena.

  “And these guys ran the activities that occurred when Raul's mother was passed out or when Robert wasn’t around?” Gary Little asked again.

  David nodded. “Yeah.”

  Tom addressed Robert. “Do any of these names or descriptions ring a bell?”

  Robert looked troubled. “Not all of them, but some. Manning...I know when I saw him a few days ago when I was out there, he looked familiar. I remember a guy fitting his description always being at the house. There was a younger guy I remember...kind of heavy-set, curly hair and a black mustache.”

  “I remember him,” David said quickly. “Edwin Groose. He was a motherfucker. He was one of them, too.”

  “Jesus,” Robert breathed. He took a deep breath and looked at the assembled throng in the conference room. “This is...I still can’t believe it.”

  “I know it’s hard to believe,” Tom said.

  “Was Douglas Archer ever at the house at any time?” William Grecko asked.

  David and Robert shook their heads.

  Tom turned to David. “I know this next question is going to be hard...but I want you to answer it as best as you can. We need to know exactly what happened to you and Raul and Louie and anybody else at the house. Tell us all you can remember, no matter how embarrassing or ugly it is.”

  David nodded, fighting back the tears again. He looked up at the screen into Robert’s eyes briefly, then his gaze lighted on each man in the room. “I’ll try to remember,” he said. “God knows I’ve tried to forget a lot of it but...I’ll try.”

  For the next forty-five minutes David Bartell had the room spellbound with horror.

  At times during the narrative Tom Jensen felt physically ill. Several times he glanced at Gary Little, who only met his gaze once. The task-force director’s eyes were troubled, his face pale. William Grecko said, “Oh my God!” several times. There were several gasps of surprise from Robert Valesquez. The few times Tom Jensen glanced at Robert he could see the retired Navy captain was visibly affected by what David Bartell was revealing. He dabbed at his eyes with a tissue, his face was pale, his eyes displaying a sense of shock.

  At one point during the narrative Robert broke down and sobbed.

  Tom almost did himself. What kept him from breaking down was his growing sense of rage and anger as David Bartell pulled up the rock that covered the ugliness that had been hidden for so long under a vast network of lies and cover-ups and shined a flashlight directly on the horrors that had been allowed and encouraged to exist by people who were sworn to serve and protect.

  And the more he listened, the angrier he got.

  Fifteen

  AT SOME POINT during the day Karen grew a heart; she called Danny around ten a.m. and asked if he wanted the day with the kids. Danny responded immediately. “Absolutely! You want me to pick them up?”

  “I can drop them off,” Karen said. He could hear her rummaging in the background, could hear the kids playing in the living room amid the faint background noise of the TV. “I’ve got an appointment in Manhattan Beach at noon. I can pick them up by five.”

  “Sounds great!” She must have found out from his mother that he had the day off. He had intended to call her later to see if he could drop by for a visit, but she beat him to it.

  “Okay. I’ll be by around ten.”

  With this bit of good news, Danny was able to ignore the growling in his stomach that started last night and kept him awake most of the night. He jumped into the shower and turned on the hot water, which woke him up and left his skin tingling. As he toweled off he felt refreshed, but still a little tired from last night. His stomach had kept him up all night, rumbling and growling and clenching in on itself. Twice he’d had the runs and he’d taken some Pepto Bismol, which worked a little bit at quieting his roiling tummy. Must’ve been the barbecue sandwich he’d had last night for supper right after seeing Jerry Valdez. He’d stopped by Vic’s BBQ in Redondo Beach and ordered up a Beef BBQ sandwich with onions and jalapeños, spicy curly fries, and a pitcher of beer. Three hours later he was feeling the affects. He didn’t know why his gastrointestinal tract reacted so harshly to Vic’s BBQ; it never had before.

  By the time he was dressed, his stomach had quieted down a little and he was only able to put away a cup of coffee before it started rumbling again. He switched to water and then Karen was at the apartment, ushering the kids inside. She looked spectacular, and Danny wondered if her appointmen
t at noon was with a lover. He felt a little pang of regret when he saw her, that they had broken up, and for a moment all the old feelings he had for her rushed back—how they used to lounge around on the sofa at his apartment when they were dating and watch TV, pausing every now and then to kiss or cuddle; their first date, when he picked her up in his old Chevy Rambler and his fuel pump had gone out on the way home and she’d laughed at the hilariousness of it, which had broken the ice between them; how he used to love watching her when she slept, marveling at the contours of her body, the angles of her face; how gentle she was with the kids, and how patient and encouraging she was with them. Then there were the fun times with just the two of them; going to parties together, attending rock concerts, even just sitting around the house getting drunk or stoned together. These feelings washed over him quickly and he forced them down, locked them away so he wouldn’t have to deal with them now. What was done was done. Their relationship was over, but he couldn’t help but think sometimes that they still had a chance of being together again. Seeing her like this, dressed nice in a pair of black slacks and a white blouse, her hair and make-up just perfect, he couldn’t help but think she was seeing somebody else. Why shouldn’t she? After all, they’d been divorced and living apart for almost a year. She was entitled to start over, to start dating other men again. So he didn’t bring it up, only complimented her on her appearance, which she ignored. “I’ll be by around five for them,” she said quickly.

  “Okay,” he said, grinning, already looking forward to the afternoon with the kids. “We’re gonna have some fun.”

  The first thing on the agenda that day was the new Scooby Doo movie playing at the Cinemax in Torrance. Chris had been bugging his mother to see it all week, and even Tina expressed interest in it. Danny drove them to the movie theatre, bought tickets for three, stood in line for buttered popcorn and sodas, and led his kids into the darkened theater where they sat through an hour and a half of recycled fart jokes and sexual innuendos that went over both kids’ heads. They laughed anyway, and Danny enjoyed himself. Karen wouldn’t have approved—she’d become too hoity-toity for their tastes lately—but the kids had fun and enjoyed themselves and that’s what mattered to Danny.

  After the movie they had lunch at Popeye’s Chicken, then they headed to Borders Bookstore on Prairie Avenue, which boasted a huge children’s section. Both kids loved books, and Danny helped them pick out a couple of titles before they headed home, arms laden with packages, tummies full.

  Danny checked his watch as they reached the corner of Manhattan Beach Boulevard and Van Ness Avenue where the apartment complex was. It was two-thirty p.m., which gave him a little over two hours left with his kids. “Why don’t we go inside and get something to drink, then we can figure out what to do next.”

  “Can we go to the park?” Chris asked. Alexander Park was four blocks north, near his old elementary school.

  “Sure.”

  He took Tina’s hand and they crossed the street. It was a weekday, and traffic was fairly light. It was a nice day, a perfect spring afternoon. Spending the day with the kids had been a godsend. It had taken his mind off the past week’s problems. His stomach even felt better.

  He was just leading his kids into the apartment complex when an unfamiliar voice called out: “Danny Hernandez?”

  Danny turned around. A tall man who appeared to be in his early sixties was on the sidewalk in front of the house next door which bore a For Sale sign. He was dressed in tan slacks and a white shirt and he looked puzzled. “Excuse me,” he said, looking embarrassed. “But you really look like somebody I used to know.”

  Danny frowned; the man looked vaguely familiar but he couldn’t place the face. “Well, you got my attention. The name’s right, but I don’t think I know you.”

  The man was walking toward him slowly, peering at him inquisitively. Tina and Chris drew close to their father, Tina slipping her hand into his shyly. “You didn’t grow up in this area, did you?”

  More flashes of recognition came but he still couldn’t connect the face with a name. “Yeah, I did.”

  The man’s face brightened and Danny could tell by the look in his eyes that the man recognized him. “Danny Hernandez? Used to live on Atkinson?”

  “Yeah?” He was drawing a bead of memory on the guy now.

  The man beat him to it. He held out his hand, his face beaming. “I can’t believe it! I’m James Whitsett ... Bobby’s father.”

  “James!” Now the connection was made. “Oh my God!”

  The two men shook hands. Danny hadn’t seen Bobby’s father in years. The last time he remembered seeing him was well over twenty years ago. After Bobby’s death, the Whitsetts remained in the neighborhood for a few years, and in the early 1980’s they divorced and went their separate ways. The last time Danny remembered seeing him was shortly after he’d graduated from high school. James had stopped by his mother’s house bearing a graduation gift. “I can’t help but be proud of you, Danny,” James said that night amid the laughter and conversation of the other guests his mom had invited to a party thrown in his honor. “Bobby would have graduated with you. I realize it's strange to think this way but...watching you grow up and go through high school has been like...well, all I could do is imagine Bobby at this stage in his life and wish he was here to make this achievement. You’ve done this for him, too; you realize that, don’t you?”

  And Danny had nodded, feeling a heaviness in his chest as he told Bobby’s dad that, yes, he did realize it. And he still missed Bobby, still wished he was here and not a day passed since that terrible day when he didn’t think about him.

  Now James Whitsett stood before him, pumping his hand in both of his own. He had aged well; he’d put on a little bit of weight in the twenty years since Danny last saw him but most of it was muscle. His hair had grayed, most of it fallen out, and age lines had crept beneath his eyes and along his broad forehead. His eyes lighted in surprise as they settled on Tina and Chris. “Your kids?”

  “Yeah.” Danny quickly introduced Tina and Chris, who gave quiet hellos. “This is an old friend of your dad’s,” he told them. “Actually, he’s...” He paused for a moment, thinking of how to correctly phrase what he wanted to say. “When I was young, I had a really good friend named Bobby. This man is Bobby’s father.”

  James smiled at the kids, then turned his gaze to Danny. “It’s great to see you again! You live here in the neighborhood?”

  Danny motioned to the apartment complex. “My apartment’s in this building.”

  “This is incredible.” James looked genuinely happy to see Danny. “Small world.”

  “What about you?”

  James glanced back at the adjoining condominium complex with the For Sale sign advertising a vacant unit. “I’m checking that place out for a client. I’m a Real Estate agent now.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah.” James paused, his tanned face beaming. There was a twinkle in his eye that brought back memories of when Danny was young and he would hang out at Bobby’s house. “Been doing this now for almost twenty years. I got my license the year after Susan and I divorced.”

  Danny was about to respond when it occurred to him the kids were getting antsy. “Listen, I don’t mean to be rude but—"

  “Hey, no need to apologize,” James said.

  “You want to come in for a beer or something?” Danny asked, motioning toward the apartment complex, eyebrows raised.

  “That would be great!”

  Danny led James Whitsett through the front gates of his complex, his left hand guiding Chris in front of him, his right holding Tina’s hand. James made idle chatter behind them as they approached the apartment complex. “I wasn’t even going to head out here today. I originally told my client that the condo had been sold, but when I checked this morning it was back on the market. It’s gone on and off the market the past four months, so I drove over here after showing another house in the area to another client to find out for myself
. I saw you walk up with your kids and recognized you right away.”

  Danny listened as he unlocked the door and led them inside. “You guys want something to drink?”

  “Are we still going to go to the park?” Tina asked, her seven-year-old face hopeful.

  “Yes. We’ll go in about twenty minutes.”

  “I don’t want to keep you from your kids,” James said, hovering by the front door. “Maybe we can get together some other time and catch up.”

  The suddenness of today’s events was whirling, becoming too much for Danny to process. He took a breath, trying to decide what to do. Seeing James Whitsett had brought back a lot of memories, not all of them good. “It’s no problem. We can have a quick beer and catch up. You still live in San Diego?” he asked.

  “I have a beach house in San Diego and a place in Torrance,” James answered. “I moved back up about ten years ago. What about you? You’ve been in this area the whole time?”

  “Oh, yeah.” Danny said. He pulled two cans of Miller out of the refrigerator and handed one to James. “Haven’t seen any reason to leave.”

  James popped the top on his and drank up while Danny got soft drinks for the kids and ushered them into the second bedroom of his apartment. When he returned to the living room, James was idly inspecting the framed photos displayed on the walls. “Sister’s married now, huh? Tina was her name?”

  “Yeah,” Danny said as he entered the living room, sipping his beer. “My daughter’s named after her. Tina’s got two kids herself, a boy and a girl.”

  “How’s your mom?”

  “She’s great. She lives in Orange County.”

  “Re-married?”

  “Yep.” Danny sipped his beer. “They live in Tustin.”

  “She still work for the Auto Club?” James asked, sipping his beer, still looking overjoyed that he had run into Danny so suddenly. “I remember her telling me about her workplace years ago.”

  “Yeah, she still works there. They moved her office to a really big corporate park in Santa Ana.”