"Listen, I can assure you that nobody'sdoneanything to her."
"I didn't suggest that anybody had. But I do have to see her for myself. How about tomorrow, same time?"
"Well, no, that wouldn't be convenient. I have to take her to see my mother in Fairview."
"All right, Monday. But I don't want to postpone it any longer than that."
Mrs. Heilshorn showed her to the door. As Holly was putting her pumps back on, Mrs. Heilshorn said, "Nobody's hurt her, you know. I can promise you that."
Holly didn't reply. But she looked at Mrs. Heilshorn and she saw something in her eyes that seriously disturbed her. She had seen it so many times before, and its name was panic.
Crossing the Burnside Bridge
As she was crossing the Burnside Bridge on her way back to the office, the sun came out and the river glittered as if it were filled with shoals of jumping salmon. Halfway across the bridge, however, she became aware that while everything around her was sparkling in sunshine-the river, the riverside park, the seagoing ships tied up along the waterfront, the Portland Center, and the downtown high-rise towers-she herself was in shadow.
She looked up through the sunroof to see if there was a cloud above her, but the glass was tinted and so it was impossible to tell. But the shadow followed her all the way across the bridge and into the city until she turned left on Broadway. As she slowed down, she could actually see it gliding westward along the facades of the buildings, like the sail of a black yacht.
Suspicious Minds
Doug was tilted back in his chair, reading a thick new report on the psychology of child abusers and eating a sugary doughnut. Through his window Holly could see treetops waving in the wind and silently sliding streetcars and people ambling up and down the sidewalks.
"Hi, Doug," she said, sitting on the edge of his desk.
He lifted his doughnut in greeting. "How did things go with the Heilshorns?"
"They didn't. Sarah-Jane wasn't there. Her mother claimed that she forgot the appointment and that Sarah-Jane was out with friends."
"Sarah-Jane Heilshorn she's the bruise girl from Hawthorne Elementary, isn't she?"
"That's right. Her mother said she probably got them from riding her bike."
"Well, maybe she did." Doug tossed the report onto his paper-strewn desk. "Kids get bruises and nine times out of ten they tripped over or fell out of a tree."
"Sure. But her teachers say that she's been exhibiting some behavioral problems too: acting withdrawn, when she usually used to be extrovert."
"You can't read too much into that, either. When my Annie reached puberty, she turned from Shirley Temple into Courtney Love in one weekend."
"I don't know. Her mother seems kind ofedgyabout her, if you know what I mean. And she's a very obsessive personality. The house is so damn clean, it gave me the creeps. I mean, like, it'simmaculate,like a show home."
"Met the father yet?"
"Unh-hunh."
"So what's your gut instinct?"
"Something's wrong in that family, but I'm not at all sure what it is. There's a sexual undertone which I don't like at all. Seminude painting over the fireplace trashy women's magazines lying around: You know, the ones that tell you how to strip for your husband."
"Have you made another appointment?"
"Yes, Monday."
"You don't want to action it sooner?"
Holly thought about it and then she shook her head. "No I haven't even had a chance to talk to Sarah-Jane yet. Besides, I don't want to go crashing in there with accusations of abuse unless I have a whole lot more to go on. All right, Mrs. Heilshorn was edgy, but peopledoget edgy when the Children's Welfare people come knocking on their door. And she may be an obsessive Hooverer, but that's not exactly a felony."
"If itisa felony, then my ex certainly wasn't guilty of it."
"I think I need to take this carefully, that's all. One step at a time."
Doug sipped his coffee. "Probably wiser. You remember the Katz family?"
"Must have been before my time."
"I almost lost my job over it, believe me. It must have been, what, six or seven years ago. Mr. and Mrs. Katz lived in the Lloyd District. Mrs. Katz had gone to stay with her sister in Bend, but she and her sister had an argument and Mrs. Katz unexpectedly returned home twenty-four hours early. She came into the bedroom at six o'clock in the morning to find her husband in bed, naked, with their four-year-old daughter.
"There was a furious argument and Mrs. Katz called the cops. Mr. Katz was immediately arrested on a charge of suspected molestation, and forensic evidence showed that there were traces of semen on the sheets. My senior director sat in on the police questioning, and she decided that Mr. Katz was protesting his innocence so angrily that he simply had to be guilty."
"Pretty contradictory conclusion."
"Well, she was what you might call an aggressive supporter of women's rights. She believed that all men are rapists, especially husbands and fathers. At first the little girl herself wouldn't say what had happened to her. But after more than a week of very low-key questioning, she blurted out that she had been scared by an electric storm and had crept into her father's bed for security. He had been fast asleep all the time and had never even known she was there.
"The semen?"
"His wife had been away for a week. He had jerked himself off before he went to sleep."
"So what was the outcome?"
"What do you think? Divorce. Mr. Katz couldn't forgive his wife for thinking that he would ever touch his own daughter. So the little girl suffered a broken home just because her mother and the cops and the Children's Welfare Department were all too goddamn eager to believe the worst."
"So your senior director?"
"Not fired, of course, because of the feminist mafia. But moved sideways. These days, she runs Women's Right to Refuse."
"What happened to Women's Right to Say 'Mmm, Yes, Please'?"
Doug brushed sugar off his pants. "You'll keep me posted with the Heilshorn case? I mean, regardless of what happened in the Katz case, any serious suspicions "
"Sure, of course." Holly stood up, and hesitated. "Actually, there's another reason I wanted to see you. What time are you leaving for the lake Saturday?"
"Ten-thirty." Pause. "You mean you want to come along?"
"Yes I think I'd like to."
"That's great. Ned's going to be delighted. He's a really regular guy, I promise you."
"Okay, then. I'll come. Do you want me to bring any food?"
"Hey, only if some of Marcella's spicy meatballs are going begging."
The Doctor Is Out
Holly asked Emma on the switchboard to find the number of East Portland Memorial and to ask for the children's cancer clinic.
"They say wait one moment," said Emma. She was very pretty, intensely black, and had her hair braided in colored beads. Her cotton dress was Barbie-doll pink.
Holly waited and waited. "What's happening?" she asked at last.
"They're playing 'Monday, Monday' by the Mamas and the Papas. You should thank your lucky stars you can't hear nothing."
Holly waited another minute. Just as she was about to give up, Emma said, "Yes, please. I'm calling for Ms. Holly Summers of the Portland Children's Welfare Department. She wants to speak to Dr. Ferdinand. It concerns one of his patients, Casper Beale. B-E-A-L-E. That's right."