W.E.B Griffin - The Victim

"She hasa problem," Detweiler said. "That's all."

"And the name of that problem, goddamn you, is addiction," Grace Detweiler said furiously. "Denying it, goddammit, is not going to make it go away!"

H. Richard Detweiler looked at his wife until he cringed under her angry eyes.

"All right," he said very softly. "Addicted. Penny is addicted."

Grace nodded and then turned to Brewster C. Payne. "You're not even a little curious, Brewster, about what could be worse than Penny being a cocaine addict?"

"I presumed you were about to tell me," Payne said.

"How about getting rubbed out by the Mob? Does that strike you as being worse?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Payne said.

"Officer Matthew Payne of the Philadelphia Police Department marched into Penny's room a while ago-past, incidentally, the private detective Dick hired to keep people out of her room-and showed Penny some photographs. Penny, who is not, to put it kindly, in full possession of her faculties, identified the man in the photographs as the man who had shot her and that Italian gangster. And then she proceeded to confess to him that she had been involved with him. With the gangster, I mean. In love with him, to put a point on it."

"Oh, God!" Payne said.

"And he got her to sign a statement," H. Richard Detweiler said. " Penny is now determined to go to court and point a finger at the man and see him sent to the electric chair. She thinks it will be just like Perry Mason on television. With Uncle Brewster doing what Raymond Burr did."

"What kind of a statement did she sign?"

"We don't know," Grace said. "Matt didn't give her a copy. Astatement."

"I'd have to see it," Payne said, as if to himself.

"I think I should tell you that Dotson has filed a complaint against Matt with the Police Department," H. Richard Detweiler said.

"For what?"

"Who knows? What Matt did was wrong," Detweiler said. "I think he said, criminal trespass and violation of Penny's civil rights. Does that change anything between us, Brewster?"

"If you're filing a complaint, it would," Payne said. "Are you?"

"That sounds like an ultimatum," Detweiler said. "If I press charges, I should find another lawyer."

"It sounded like a question to me," Grace Detweiler said. "The answer to which is no, we're not. Of course we're not. I'd like to file a complaint against Dotson. He knew that Penny was taking drugs. He should have told us."

"We don't know he knew," Detweiler said.

"God, you're such an ass!" Grace said. "Of course he knew." She turned to Brewster Payne. "Don't you think?"

"Penny's over twenty-one. An adult. Legally her medical problems are none of your business," Payne said. "But yes, Grace, I would think he knew."

"Right," Grace said. "Of course he did. The bastard!"

"If there are charges against Matt-a complaint doesn't always result in charges-but if there are and he comes to me, I'll defend him," Payne said. "Actually, if he doesn't come to me, I'll go to him. One helps one's children when they are in trouble. I am unable to believe that he meant Penny harm."

"Neither am I," Grace said. "I wish I could say the same thing for Penny's father."

"I'll speak to Dotson," Detweiler said. "About dropping his charges. I don't blame Matt. I blame that colored detective; he probably set Matt up to do what he did."

"What Matt didwasn't wrong, Dick," Grace said. "Can't you get that through your head? What he was trying to do was catch the man who shot Penny."

"Dick, I think Matt would want to accept responsibility for whatever he did. He's not a child any longer, either," Payne said.

"I'll speak to Dotson," Detweiler said. "About the charges, I mean."

"As sick as this sounds," Grace Detweiler went on, "I think Penny rather likes the idea of standing up in public and announcing that she was the true love of this gangster's life. The idea that since they tried to kill her once so there would be no witness suggests they would do so again never entered her mind."

"Off the top of my head, I don't think that a statement taken under the circumstances you describe-"

"What do you mean, 'off the top of your head'?" H. Richard Detweiler asked coldly.

"Dick, I'm not a criminal lawyer," Brewster C. Payne said.

"Oh, great! We come here to see how we can keep our daughter from getting shot-again-by the Mob, and you tell me 'Sorry, that's not my specialty.' My God, Brewster!"

"Settle down, Dick," Payne said. "You came to the right place."

He walked to his door.

"Irene, would you ask Colonel Mawson to drop whatever he's doing and come in here, please?"

"Mawson?" Detweiler said. "I never have liked that son of a bitch. I never understood why you two are partners."

"Dunlop Mawson is reputed to be-in my judgmentis – the best criminal lawyer in Philadelphia. But if you think he's a son of a bitch, Dick-"

"For God's sake," Grace said sharply, "let's hear what he has to say."

Colonel J. Dunlop Mawson (the title making reference to his service as a lieutenant colonel, Judge Advocate Generals' Corps, U.S. Army Reserve, during the Korean War) appeared in Brewster C. Payne's office a minute later.

"I believe you know the Detweilers, don't you, Dunlop?" Payne asked.

"Yes, of course," Mawson said. "I've heard, of course, about your daughter. May I say how sorry I am and ask how she is?"

"Penny is addicted to cocaine," Grace Detweiler said. "How does that strike you?"

"I'm very sorry to hear that," Colonel Mawson said.

"There is a place in Hartford," Grace said, "that's supposed to be the best in the country. The Institute for Living, something like that-"

"Instituteof Living," Payne said. "I know of it. It has a fine reputation."

"Anyway, she's going there," Grace Detweiler said.

"I had a hell of a time getting her in," H. Richard Detweiler said.

" 'I'?" Grace Detweiler snapped, icily sarcastic.

"Really?" Payne asked quickly. He had seen Grace Detweiler in moods like this before.

"There's a waiting list, can you believe that? They told Dotson on the phone that it would be at least three weeks, possibly longer, before they'd take her."

"Well, that's unfortunate, but-" Colonel Mawson said.

"Wegot her in," Detweiler said."We had to call Arthur Nelson-"

"Arthur Nelson?" Payne interrupted. "Why him?"

Arthur J. Nelson, Chairman of the Board of Daye-Nelson Publications, one of which was thePhiladelphia Ledger, was not among Brewster C. Payne's favorite people.

"Well, he had his wife in there, you know," Grace Detweiler answered for her husband. "She had a breakdown, you know, when that sordid business about her son came out. Arthur put her in there."

"Yes, now that you mention it, I remember that," Payne said. "Was he helpful?"

"Very helpful," H. Richard Detweiler said.

"Dick, you're such an ass," Grace said. "He was not!"

"He said he would do everything he could to minimize unfortunate publicity," H. Richard Detweiler said. "And he gave us Charley Gilmer' s name."

"Charley Gilmer?" Payne asked.

"President of Connecticut General Commercial Assurance. He's on the board of directors, trustees, whatever, of that place."

"Whose name, if you were thinking clearly," Grace Detweiler said, "you should have thought of yourself. We've known the Gilmers for years."

H. Richard Detweiler ignored his wife's comment.

"It was not very pleasant," H. Richard Detweiler said, "having to call a man I have known for years to tell him that my daughter has a drug problem and I need his help to get her into a mental institution."

"Is that all you're worried about, your precious reputation?" Grace Detweiler snarled. "Dick, you make me sick!"

"I don't give a good goddamn about my reputation-or yours, either, for that matter. I'm concerned for our daughter, goddamn you!"