Where Love Has Gone (1962)

by Robbins, Harold

  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 f
eel 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!”

  “Of course not,” Marian Spicer said quickly. “But she did kill a man. That may indicate paranoia.” She watched Nora closely.

  “That’s ridiculous! Dani’s no more insane than I am!”

  That might be the truth, Marian thought to herself. Almost immediately she felt a sense of self-reproach. She had no right to pass that kind of judgment.

  “I’ll send in some doctors of my own selection,” Nora said suddenly.

  “That’s your right, Miss Hayden. And it might be helpful. Perhaps a doctor of your own selection might more easily gain Dani’s confidence.”

  Nora put down her teacup. Marian knew the interview was over. “Is there any other information I can give you, Miss Spicer?”

  Marian shook her head. “I don’t think so, Miss Hayden.” She started to rise. “There is one more thing.”

  “Yes.”

  “Could I see Dani’s room?”

  Nora nodded. “I’ll have Charles show it to you.”

  Marian followed the butler up the circular marble stairway. “How is Miss Dani, ma’am?” Charles asked over his shoulder.

  “She’s all right.”

  They reached the top of the stairs and started down the hall. Charles stopped in front of a door. “This is Miss Dani’s room.”

  He opened the door and Marian went in. As Charles followed her into the room, Nora’s voice came from the house interphone on the wall. “Charles.”

  “Yes, mum.”

  “Would you ask Violet to show Dani’s room to Miss Spicer? I have an errand for you.”

  “At once, mum.” The butler turned toward the doorway just as the colored maid appeared. “You heard the madam?”

  Violet nodded. “Yes, suh.”

  Charles bowed and left the room. The maid came in and closed the door behind her. Marian stood in the center of the room and looked around.

  It was a beautiful room. There was a canopied four-posted on a small platform against the far wall. Television and radio and record player were all in one unit against the opposite wall. Marian didn’t have to look to know that they could be operated by remote control from the headboard of the bed.

  The curtains were a bright yellow chintz, the bedspread the same matching material. Near the window was a desk, on top of which were a portable typewriter and some books. There were also a dresser, a chest of drawers and several chairs.

  Marian turned to the maid. “Didn’t Dani have any pictures or pinups on the wall?”

  The maid shook her head. “No’m. Miss Dani didn’ go for things like that.”

  “What’s in there?” Marian asked, pointing to a double door in the opposite wall.

  “That’s the closet. Her own bathroom is through that other door.”

  Marian opened the closet and looked in. A light went on as soon as the door opened. There were rows of dresses hanging neatly, and shoes on a circular revolving rack. She closed the doors and heard the click as the interior light went out.

  “Where does Miss Dani keep her personal things?”

  “Over there in the dressuh.”

  Marian opened the top drawer and looked in. It too was neatly arranged—handkerchiefs and stockings in separate compartments. The same held true for the other drawers. Brassieres, panties, slips. All were neatly folded.

  Marian went over to the desk and opened a drawer. Pencils, pens, paper, everything neat and orderly. She wondered about the usual teenage mess. This didn’t seem much like a child’s room. She looked at the maid. “Does she keep her room like this all the time?”

  The maid nodded. “Yes’m. She’s very neat. She don’ like havin’ her things messed up.”

  “What does she keep in there?” Marian asked, indicating the chest of drawers.

  “She call that her treasure chest. She keep it locked all the time.”

  “Do you have a key?”

  The girl shook her head.

  “Would her mother?”

  “No’m. Miss Dani always kep’ the key herself.”

  “Would you know where it is?”

  The maid looked at Marian for a moment, then nodded.

  “Could I have it, please?”

  The maid hesitated. “Miss Dani won’t like it.”

  Marian smiled. “It’s all right. You can ask her mother.”

  The maid looked doubtful for a moment, then walked over to the headboard of the bed and stuck her hand behind it. She came up with a key which she handed to Marian.

  Marian unlocked the chest of drawers. All the pictures and photographs were here. Maybe they weren’t on the walls but Dani had kept them. Quickly she leafed through them. There were pictures of her father taken years ago, when he was still in uniform. And of her mother, one of them the cover picture from Life magazine, dated 1944. There were several of herself alone and with her parents, pictures of a boat. Marian could just read the name of the white bow. The Dani Girl.

  The second drawer was filled with newspaper clippings about her mother. Dani had arranged them neatly so that they formed a chronological history of her mother’s career.

  The third drawer contained exactly the same thing as the second. Only here her father was the subject. Marian glanced through the items briefly, thinking that the child must have spent a great deal of time gathering all this material. Much of it dated to even before she was born.

  The bottom drawer at first seemed to be filled with junk. There were several broken toys. Child’s toys. A worn and faded wool Teddy bear with one glass eye missing. And a green leather box. Marian took it out and opened it.

  It contained a single eight-by-fourteen glossy photograph of a smiling, very handsome young man. The writing across the corner was in black India ink.

  To My Baby With Love. It was signed Rick.

  When Marian picked up the photograph to study it, she noticed a small metal container underneath. The bold dark lettering jumped up at here: AMERICA’S FINEST.

  She didn’t have to open it to know what was inside. She had seen enough of them. It seemed to be the teenager’s favorite brand. They could buy them in almost any public restroom in the country by inserting a fifty-cent coin in a vending machine.

  9

  __________________________________________

  Sally Jennings looked up from her desk as Dani came into the small office. “Sit down, Dani.” She pushed a package of cigarettes toward her. “I’ll only be a few minutes. I ha
ve to finish this report.”

  Dani took a cigarette and lit it. She sat watching the psychologist’s pen flying over the lined yellow notepaper. After a few moments she tired of that and looked out the window. It was late in the afternoon and the bright yellow sun had begun to pick up faint tinges of orange. Suddenly she wished she were outside.

  Idly she wondered what day it was. She seemed to have lost all track of time. She glanced at the calendar on the wall. Wednesday. She had come in Saturday, so today was her fifth day. She stirred restlessly in her seat. It seemed like a very long time.

  She looked up at the sky. It would be nice to be outside. She wondered what it was like on the street. Whether there were many people out walking; whether the traffic was heavy; even how the sidewalks would feel against the soles of her shoes. She wished that she could see the street. But she couldn’t. Not from any; of these rooms. The windows were too small and high up.

  She glanced at Miss Jennings again but she was still writing, a furrow of concentration knotting her brow. Dani wondered how long she would have to sit before the psychologist was through. She looked up at the sky again. There were small orange-tinted clouds scudding by, high up. She remembered clouds like that once in Acapulco. High in the sky over the cliffs, where the boys leaped with flaming torches at night into the sea.

  There had been a boy there. He had smiled at her, his white teeth flashing in his dark face. And she had smiled back at him. Rick had been angry.

  “Don’t give any of those greasers the come-on like that,” he’d said.

  She’d looked at him with the look of wide-eyed innocence that always made him even more angry. She knew that he thought it made her look more like her mother than ever. “Why not?” she’d asked. “He seems like a nice boy.”

  “You don’t know these boys. They’re not like other boys. They’ll bother you. They don’t know you’re still a kid.”

  She smiled sweetly. “Why not, Rick?”

  She’d seen his eyes dart over her white bathing suit. He flushed. She knew why he flushed. She’d caught him looking at her like that many times. “Why not, Rick?”