Upon reflection, what Andy Beale objected to most wasn't Richard's sneakiness. It was his stupidity, his lack of foresight. If Richard gave himself straight As, didn't he realize his mother would expect him to be valedictorian? Didn't he realize that she expected him to be admitted by every college he applied to? No, Richard didn't think that far ahead. Everything he did was for temporary advantage, or even a brief reprieve from work.
Being Richard's father was heartrending for Andy Beale. He felt that Richard deserved to get caught, but he couldn't bring himself to rat on his own son. Telling school administrators what a little shit Richard was would cause Ruby terrible pain and, if she found out who had told, make her angry at Andy in a way he would never overcome. He was afraid her resentment would eventually lead to the end of the marriage. As the offenses Andy knew about accumulated, he became paralyzed. If the school ever found out, then Richard would lose the most precious possession of all, the opportunity to change. He would always remain a bully, a sneak, a loafer, a coward. So Andy had let him go on, hoping that as Richard matured, he would improve. It had, in the end, been the worst thing he could have done. Richard had only grown from a little snake to a big one.
The one change during Richard's time in college was that Ruby had gradually given up. One day when Richard was in college at San Diego State, she had gone to visit him at his off-campus apart ment. She knew the way and had a key because it was a unit in an apartment complex that belonged to the Beale Company. She had called ahead and told him she was going to take him out for a nice dinner. When she got there, he was gone. He had stood her up. She had called and come back the next day. He had stood her up again. He had treated her that way on her birthday. Richard had kept doing things like that over and over. He was always too busy to see his mother, but he compiled an academic record so dismal that it astounded Andy that Richard didn't flunk out. He would stop answering his phone, and then Andy would find that someone had charged a vacation for two in Hawaii to Ruby's credit card number. There were bills for an incredible number of dinners, trips, even charges at jewelry stores, but no steady girlfriend that Andy ever saw.
Richard had always had trouble with women. What man hadn't? But his trouble was always peculiar. Richard had inherited Ruby's eyes and facial structure, so he was a very good-looking man. He had inherited Andy's physique. He looked the way Andy had forty years ago—flat stomach, broad shoulders—and he was reasonably light on his feet. He was very good at attracting women, but terrible at keeping them once he had them. After a short time with Richard they always left. Andy wondered if women were taking advantage of Richard.
Andy had called a woman private detective named Grace Kandinsky, just like the painter, to get in touch with a few of Richard's old girlfriends and a few women who had dated him, and see what they had to say about him. Andy had even listed a half dozen who had merely worked in the office. The project had taken Miss Kandinsky months, and when it was over, Andy asked her to give him the short version.
She was a difficult young woman to shock. She had begun as a police woman working vice, and later, narcotics. She said, "Summary?"
"Yes."
"He's not a nice man."
"I'm paying you thousands of dollars for that?"
"No, for wasting countless hours of my time asking questions. If you'd like to listen to all the recordings I made, you're welcome to them. I spent so much time talking to women in bars, my boyfriend asked me if I was a lesbian. What I found out is what you'll find out—he's not nice to women."
"Tell me something specific. One thing."
"He tells them he'll love them forever, but forever means until he gets tired of them. In the meantime he controls everything they do. He checks up on them and spies on them—runs in your family, huh?"
"I'm not paying extra for comedy."
"I'm sorry." She looked at him sympathetically. "I really am."
"You're sorry for me because what you're telling me is that my son is a creep."
She cocked her head. "I think that's true. I'm also sorry for making jokes. It's just because I'm nervous. It's a serious situation for you, and for him, but he doesn't know it, or care, or something. I guess that's the common theme of what I found out. He just doesn't care about other people."
Andy had paid Grace Kandinsky and gone on with his life as though he had never met her. He had never said anything to Ruby about the detective when he had hired her, and he didn't say anything afterward.
Ruby still cared very much about Richard. But she cared for Richard the way she would have cared for a mangled toe. She had no high expectations for what it could do, but it still hurt like crazy, so there was no question that it belonged to her.
Ruby had begun to yearn for grandchildren at that time. She had said, "Andy, I want Richard to find a wife as soon as possible, and get started making grandchildren. That's the best we can do now—get as many of them as possible and start teaching and training and guiding. I'd hate to think that the culmination of our two family bloodlines was nothing but Richard. We can't let that happen. We'll spend a lot of time with his children, pick out a couple of the best ones after a few years, and see if we can do it right this time."
He had thought about it. Ruby had worked a lifetime beside him and hadn't asked for much in return. While he was building the real estate business she was working, too, first as a waitress and then as a nurse, keeping each of her paychecks only long enough to verify the amount and the deductions and then signing it over for deposit to their company, so Andy could use the money to buy more property. She had spent her evenings and weekends during most of those years working beside him on the company bookkeeping and paperwork. The rest of her time had been devoted to Richard.
Andy Beale was willing to do a great variety of things that people didn't anticipate. The only thing he couldn't do was turn down a serious request from Ruby. Their only child, Richard, had been a disappointment to her, so if she wanted another chance with the next generation, he would try to give it to her.
When he reached the office, he almost drove into the reserved space at the end that belonged to Richard, but thought better of it. There was no point in irritating him just for the sake of irritating him. Andy pulled his Lexus around the building and parked in the back on the far side of the Dumpster, where it wasn't easy to see.
He went into the office, sat at Richard's desk, and began examining the files that contained the notes and reports on current operations. He happily occupied a half hour that way, and then Richard came in, looking harried.
When he saw his father at his desk, he froze, trying to hold his temper. "What are you doing here? Is this going to be a habit?"
"I doubt it," said Andy. "I've got better things to do than sit in an office."
"Oh, that's right," said Richard. He took his coat off and hung it on a hanger in a high, narrow space in one of the teak cabinets that covered the far wall of the office.
"I've noticed you've been doing a lot of work." Andy closed the file he'd been reading and tossed it on the desk with a flop. "Cut it out."
"What?"
"I said cut it out. Stop it."
"I thought you were always worried that I wasn't running the business properly. Not enough profit to fill the gas tank of your flagship."
Andy Beale pursed his lips, and congratulated himself on having the presence of mind to recognize that his irritation proved he really was too defensive about the boat. He said cheerfully, "I've built a good business, and over the past five years or so you've done pretty well with it. The rents are coming in, and the last developments are built and selling very well. But it's time to turn all your attention to what I asked you about last time."