I got into my car and drove non-stop to Phoenix. There I learned that she’d gone to Tucson, where her boss was just beginning a new development. I was in Tucson late that same afternoon. The office was way out on the speedway, and the first thing I noticed when I pulled into the parking lot was the sign:
CONSTRUCTION HELP WANTED
I opened the door and went in. A dark-haired girl was sitting in the outer office. She looked up at me. “Yes?”
“The sign outside says you’re looking for help.”
She nodded. “We are. Had any experience?”
“Yes.”
“Sit down, please. Miss Anderson will be with you in a moment.”
She picked up the telephone and whispered something into it. Then she gave me a form. “Fill this out while you’re waiting.”
I’d just finished when the phone buzzed and the girl pointed me toward an inner office.
Elizabeth didn’t look up as I came in. She was staring down at a
sheet of figures. “You’ve had experience?” she asked, still not looking up.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Her eyes were still on the desk. “What kind of experience?”
“All kinds, ma’am.”
“All kinds?” she asked impatiently. “That’s not a very definite—” She looked up and the words disappeared in her throat.
She seemed thinner somehow, her cheekbones stood out more. “But that’s not the reason I came out her, ma’am,” I said, watching her eyes. “The real reason is—I came out here looking for someone who said she might be willing to take a long trip with me.”
For the longest kind of a moment she looked up at me, and then she was out of the chair and around the desk and into my arms. I was kissing her and she was crying and saying my name over and over again. “Luke … Luke … Luke.”
The door on the other side of her office opened and the old man, her boss, came in. He noticed us and turned to go back out, then took a second look. He cleared his throat.
He reached into his jacket and came out with a pair of glasses. He peered at me again and again cleared his throat.
“So it’s you,” he said. “It’s about time you got here. Now maybe she’ll stop moping so we can get some work done.”
He stomped out of the office, closing the door behind him, and we turned to each other and began to laugh. Somehow, listening to the sound of her laughter, I knew I would always feel better just knowing that she was around. Always, even like now, when I was in San Francisco and she was in Chicago, waiting for me on a lonely Saturday night.
3
__________________________________________
Harris Gordon was in the lobby the next morning when I came down at nine o’clock. We went into the coffee shop, where there were nothing but empty tables. It was Sunday morning.
The waitress put down the coffee and I ordered a stack of dollar-sized pancakes and sausages. Gordon shook his head. “I’ve already had breakfast.”
When the waitress went away I asked, “Where do we go from here?”
He reached for a cigarette. “We’re fortunate in one respect. We’re not facing a murder trial.”
“We’re not?”
“No,” he answered. “Under California law, a minor who has committed a felony is not treated in the same way as a criminal adult. This is particularly true in cases involving minors under the age of sixteen.”
“Then how do they determine guilt and punishment for a child?”
“Again, that is where the law operates to our advantage. There is no such thing as punishing a child. California maintains that a child cannot be held responsible for his or her actions, even if guilt is determined. Instead, the minor is subjected to a custodial hearing in Juvenile Court to determine the best possible solutions regarding rehabilitation and an eventual return to society.” He smiled. “Do I sound too much like a lawyer?”
I shook my head. “I’m still with you. Go on.”
The waitress returned with my breakfast. Gordon waited until she had gone again before he continued.
“The court must determine in whose custody the best interests and welfare of the child will be served. One or both parents, as the case may be, a foster home, a remedial school like Los Guilicos, even a hospital or mental institution if necessary. But only after a complete investigation is made. In the event the court decided to retain her in custody, Dani might be sent to the California Youth Authority Reception Center, at Perkins, to undergo a psychological and psychiatric study in depth.”
“What does that mean?”
“One thing it’s sure to mean,” he answered quickly, “Is that if you have any idea of gaining custody, you might as well forget it. The court would never permit the child to be taken out of the state.”
We stared at each other. At least I know where I stood. I wasn’t to be allowed custody of Dani no matter what. I kept my voice impassive. “So I don’t get her,” I said. “Who does?”
“Frankly I doubt that the court would ever return her to Nora. That leaves three possibilities—her grandmother, a court-selected foster home, or Los Guilicos. I think we can eliminate the foster home. Dani’s grandmother can offer more advantages.”
“Then it’s between the old lady and an institution?”
He nodded.
I finished the last of my pancakes and signaled for more coffee. “Which do you think it will be?”
“Do you want my frank opinion?”
I nodded.
“The odds are perhaps ten to one on Los Guilicos.”
I sat there silently for a moment. The thought of Dani spending months, maybe years, behind fences was more than I could take. “How do we get them to give us that one chance?”
Gordon looked at me closely. “We’d have to prove that we could give Dani everything that an institution could. That means close supervision, schooling, religious education, psychotherapy, analysis if necessary. And constant contact with the probation officer assigned to her.”
“Why is that necessary if Dani is with her grandmother?”
“Because only her custody will be entrusted. She will still remain a ward of the court until the court is completely satisfied that she can cause no more social problems.”
“How long will that take?”
“Based on my experience, I would think she’d remain a ward of the court until she is at least eighteen.”
“That’s a long time for anyone to live under a microscope. Even a kid.”
He looked at me strangely. “She killed a man,” he said. “That’s forever.”
That was blunt enough. Even for me. “What can I do to help?”
“I feel it’s important that you remain in San Francisco until Dani’s court hearings are concluded.”
“That’s impossible,” I said. “Trials go on forever.”
“This is not a trial in the ordinary sense, Colonel. There is no jury to assess or determine guilt. This is just a custodial hearing before a judge, involving only the persons concerned. Even the police and the district attorney aren’t involved, unless they are asked to appear to answer specific questions concerning the welfare and behavior of the child. The entire matter must be disposed of quickly. The law acts to protect the child from needless detention. If the child is held in custody more than fifteen days, without a hearing, she must be released.”
“In plain English,” I asked, “how long?”
“The detention hearing will take place Tuesday. The court hearing will be a week from that day. A week from next Tuesday—roughly ten days.”
“Ten days!” I exploded. “My wife is due to have a baby any day now! Why do we have to wait until Tuesday to get a hearing?’
“That’s the way it works, Colonel,” Gordon explained patiently. “The detention hearing is set for Tuesday because that’s the day the judge sits on cases involving minor girls. The final hearing is scheduled for a week later because, as I said before, the probation officer must have time to investigate
thoroughly every aspect of this case. And that investigation is as important to us as it is to the court. It is from the probation officer’s report that the judge usually makes up his mind unless it is inconclusive in which case he orders further study of the child at Perkins. Our job is to convince the probation officer and the court that the best interests of both Dani and the state will be served if she is given into the custody of her grandmother.
“What do you need me around for? There’s nothing I can do to convince anyone that the old lady should get Dani.”
“I disagree, Colonel. There’s a great deal you can do, merely by indicating that you feel this would be best for your child.
“Yeah,” I said sarcastically. “My word counts for a lot. It couldn’t buy you a beer if you didn’t have a quarter.”
He looked at me. “You underestimate yourself, Colonel. Your word means a great deal. It isn’t easy for people to forget your service to your country.”
“You’re going to pull the war hero bit?”
“For everything it’s worth. It’s working for us already.”
“What do you mean?”
Gordon signaled to a waitress and asked her to bring him the morning papers. When they were spread out on the table, he pointed to a front-page picture and its headline.
The picture was of me with my arm around Dani going into the detention hall. The headline was simple:
WAR HERO COMES
TO DEFENSE OF DAUGHTER
“Respectful, don’t you think? The papers are on your side already. There’s no mention of your losing your temper with the reporters. Ordinarily anybody would be crucified for acting as you did. But not you.”
I looked at him questioningly.
“The people involved in the fate of your daughter are human. Even the judge reads the daily papers and whether he admits it or not he’s influenced.” Gordon leaned back in his chair. “If your remaining here is a question of finances, Mrs. Hayden has assured me that she’s willing to help.”
“My finances have nothing to do with it. I tell you my wife is about to have a baby.”
“Public opinion has a way of changing overnight,” Gordon added. “At the moment, there is a great deal of sympathy for you and your daughter. If you should leave before custody is settled, people might draw the conclusion that your daughter is an incorrigible, in your own eyes not worth saving.”
I glared at him. He was clever all right. He had me neatly boxed in. I was damned if I did and damned if I didn’t.
“Remember this, Colonel. Whether Dani spends the next four years of her life in a state correctional institution or at home with her grandmother may very well rest on your decision.”
“Suddenly it’s all my responsibility,” I said angrily. “Why didn’t the court consider that when it awarded Nora custody of Dani? The court had enough evidence to show what Nora was like. Where was the justice in that?
“And where was the old lady when this guy was living in Nora’s house? She must have known what was going on. She didn’t go suddenly blind. Why didn’t she take steps to get Dani out of there before all this happened?
“I wasn’t even here. I wasn’t allowed to be. Oh, no, I wasn’t good enough to come within ten feet of my daughter. I wasn’t even supposed to be her father.
“And now you say it’s my responsibility?”
Gordon looked at me silently for a moment. I guess there was a kind of understanding in his eyes. He spoke softly. “Granting the truth in everything you say, Colonel, it still doesn’t alter the present circumstances. What we face now is bitter fact, not bitter past.” He called for the check. “Don’t make a hasty decision. At least wait until Tuesday, after the detention hearing, before you make up your mind.”
He got to his feet. “Perhaps if you attended the coroner’s inquest tomorrow it would help you reach a decision.”
“The coroner’s inquest? Will Dani be there?’
Gordon shook his head. “No. But her statement will be read in court. And Nora will be there to tell her story.”
“What will that prove?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing, perhaps, that we don’t already know. But it might help convince you that it’s important for you to stay.”
I ordered another cup of coffee as he walked out of the restaurant. There was no point in going out to the old lady’s house now. There wasn’t time before I’d be going out to see Dani.
4
__________________________________________
Nora’s Jaguar was in the parking lot behind Juvenile Hall when I got there. I had got out of the car and started for the entrance when Charles’s voice stopped me. “Colonel!”
I turned back. “Hello, Charles.”
“Would you do me a favor, sir? I have some packages here that Miss Hayden asked me to deliver to Miss Dani.”
“Where’s Miss Hayden?”
Charles didn’t quite meet my eyes. “She’s not—she’s not feeling too well today. Dr. Bonner advised her to stay in bed and rest. She’s been very upset.”
“I can imagine,” I said dryly. “All right, I’ll take them in.”
“Thank you, Colonel.” He turned and opened the car door. He removed a small suitcase and two packages, one of which looked like a box of candy.
“Wouldn’t they accept them inside?” I asked.
“Oh, yes, sir. But they told me that you were coming out and I thought it would be nicer if you gave them to Miss Dani.”
As I started to walk toward the building, Charles fell into step beside me. “May I have your permission to wait until you come out, sir? I’d very much like to hear how Miss Dani is getting on.”
“Of course, Charles. I’ll look for you when I come out.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll be waiting in the car, sir.”
He turned and went back toward the parking lot as I went into the building. The same gray-haired woman was at the desk. She smiled when she saw me. “I have your visitors pass all ready, Colonel.
“Thank you,” I said.
She noticed the suitcase and the packages. “May I, Colonel? It’s a rule here.”
At first I didn’t know what she meant. Then I understood. Maybe this wasn’t called a prison but some of the same rules applied.
She opened the suitcase first. There were several blouses and skirts on top. She lifted them out onto the desk. Underneath were two sweaters, some stockings, underwear, two pairs of shoes and a neat pile of handkerchiefs. She ran her hands down under and then carefully around the sides. She smiled at me as she put everything into the suitcase and closed it. The two packages came next. I had guessed right. One was a box of candy. The other contained several books, the kind that young girls were supposed to read.
The clerk looked at me apologetically. “Everything seems to be in order. You have no idea what some people will try to smuggle in.”
“I understand,” I said.
She handed me a slip of paper and pointed to a door. “Through there to the end of the corridor. Then up one flight and follow the signs on the wall. You’ll come to a locked gate. Show your pass to the matron on duty. She’ll take you to your daughter.”
“Thank you.”
The corridors were clinically clean, the walls painted a pale hospital green. I went up the flight of steps and came out in a corridor exactly like the one I had just left. A sign on the wall opposite pointed—TO THE GIRLS’ COTTAGES.
I followed this until I came to a wire wall. It was heavy gauge wire and ran from floor to ceiling. In the center was a steel-framed door, also of the same heavy wire grill.
I tired it but it was locked. I shook it and the reverberations echoed down the empty corridor.
A door opened and a large Negro woman came hurrying out, her fingers buttoning the front of her white uniform. “I just came on,” she apologized.
I held up my pass.
She read it quickly and nodded. Taking a key from the pocket of her white uniform, she turned the lock. I step
ped in and she closed the door after me.
We walked down the corridor until it opened into a large reception room. There were chairs scattered around and on one side, against the windows where it was completely screened from the corridor, a table and several more chairs.
Several girls were gathered around the table, listening to a small radio. Two other girls were dancing, one white and the other a Negro. The music was rock and roll.
The girls looked up as we came in. There was a strangely disinterested curiosity in their expression that faded quickly when they saw I hadn’t come to visit them.
“What room is Dani Carey in?” the matron asked.
They looked at her blankly.
“The new girl.”
“Oh, the new girl.” It was the colored girl who answered. “She is twelve.”
“Why isn’t she out here with you girls? Didn’t you invite her?”
“Sho, we axed her. But she didn’t want to, Miss Matson. She wanted to stay in her room. She still shy, I reckon.”
The matron nodded as we left the room and started down another corridor. There was a door every few feet. The matron stopped in front of one and knocked. “You have a visitor,” Dani.”
“Okay,” Dani called from inside.
“I’ll let you know when your visiting time is up,” the matron said.
“Thank you,” I said as she went back down the corridor.
“Daddy!” Dani exclaimed and flung herself into my arms.
“Hello, baby.” I juggled the packages and kissed her.
The door was all the way open now and I could see into Dani’s room. It was small and narrow, with two cots along the opposite walls. High up on the wall between them was a small window. A young woman was sitting on one of the cots. She got to her feet when I entered.
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