Sue Grafton - T Is For Trespass

“Pardon?”

“‘Not our kind, dear.’”

“I don’t understand.”

“Castration.” Tía’s lips pursed at the word. Melvin watched her with interest, his expression blank.

“Like a hospital?”

“No, no. This is a private residence, where certain surgeries are done under the table, as it were. These weren’t licensed medical doctors, just men with tools and equipment who enjoyed cutting and sewing, relieving other fellows of their urges.”

“Melvin volunteered for that?”

“It was a means to an end. He needed to gain control of his impulses, instead of them controlling him.”

“Did it work?”

“In the main. His libido’s down to almost nothing and what desires he has left, he manages to subdue. He doesn’t drink or do drugs because he can’t predict what Demons will emerge. Sly? You have no idea. There’s no way to bargain with the Evil Ones. Once they’re up, they take charge. Sober, he’s a good soul. Not that he’ll ever convince his daughter of that.”

“She’s a hard-hearted girl,” he said.

Tía turned on him. “Hush. You know better. She’s a mom. Her first job is to protect her little kids.”

I spoke to Melvin. “Aren’t you required to register? I called the probation department and they never heard of you.”

“I registered where I was.”

“If you move, you’re supposed to reregister.”

Tía intervened. “Technically, yes, hon, but I’ll tell you how it goes. People find out what he was convicted of. Once they know, the whispering starts and then the outraged parents march up and down outside his house with picket signs. Then the news trucks and the journalists and he never has another moment’s peace.”

I said, “It’s not about him. It’s about the kids he abused. They’ll never get out from under that curse.”

Melvin cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for the past. I admit I did things and things were done to me…”

Tía cut in, “That’s right. All he wants to do now is watch over the little ones and keep them safe. What’s wrong with that?”

“He’s not supposed to have contact. He’s not supposed to be within a thousand yards of little kids. No schools, no playgrounds. He knows that.”

“All he does is look. He knows it’s wrong to touch so he doesn’t do that anymore.”

I looked at Melvin. “Why put yourself in harm’s way? You’re like a dry alcoholic working in a bar. The temptation’s right there and a day’s going to come when it’s too much.”

Tía clucked her disapproval. “I’ve told him that a hundred times myself, hon, but he can’t keep away.”

I couldn’t listen to any more of this stuff. “Can we discuss the deposition? You must have questions.”

Melvin’s attention remained fixed on the toaster. “If I agree, what prevents the opposing attorney from going after me? Isn’t that how they do it? You testify to something they don’t like and they turn it back on you. Show you’re a despicable ex-con and no one should listen to a word you say?”

I thought about Hetty Buckwald. “Probably. I won’t lie to you about that. On the other hand, you don’t show up and you’ll be cited for contempt of court.”

Tía bobbed up and down, saying, “Oh please. You think he gives a shit about that?”

“Can’t you talk him into it?”

“Give the man a break. He’s paid enough already.”

I waited, but neither one said another word. I could only push the point so far. I left the subpoena on the counter and went out the front.

Just to make the afternoon perfect, when I reached the office I received a phone call from Melanie Oberlin, who jumped right in. “Kinsey, what the hell is going on? Solana said she had to get a restraining order out on you.”

“Thanks, Melanie. I appreciate the support. Would you like to hear my side of it?”

“Not particularly. She told me you called the county on her and they dismissed the complaint.”

“Did she also mention that a woman named Cristina Tasinato has been appointed Gus’s conservator?”

“His what?”

“I’m assuming you know the term.”

“Well, yes, but why would anyone do that?”

“A better question is, who’s Cristina Tasinato?”

“Okay. Who is she?”

“She and the woman we know as Solana Rojas are the same person. She’s busy working her way through every cent he has. Hold on a second and I’ll check my notes so I can give you the exact figures. Here we go. By way of compensation, she’s submitted invoices to the court for $8,726.73 for Gus’s home care, courtesy of Senior Health Care Management, Inc. That includes paying her half-witted son, who’s posing as an orderly while he sleeps all day long. There’s also an invoice from her attorney for $6,227.47 for ‘professional services’ as of January 15, 1988.”

There was a wonderful moment of silence. “Can they do that?”

“Kiddo, I hate to sound cynical, but the point is to help the elderly with big nest eggs. Why have yourself appointed a conservator for someone living on a fixed income? It makes no sense.”

“This is making me sick.”

“As well it should.”

“But what’s this about the county?”

“That’s the question you started with. I reported Solana to the Tri-Counties Agency for the Prevention of Elder Abuse and they sent out a caseworker to investigate. Solana told the gal she’d begged you repeatedly to come to Gus’s aid, but you refused. She said Gus was incompetent to handle his daily needs and she nominated herself-I should say, Cristina Tasinato-to oversee his affairs.”

“That’s crazy. Since when?”

“A week, maybe ten days ago. Of course everything’s been backdated to coincide, fortuitously, with the phony Solana’s arrival on the scene.”

“I don’t believe this!”

“I didn’t either, but it’s true.”

“You know I never refused to help him. That’s a goddamn lie.”

“As is much of what Solana says about me.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I don’t understand why I’m just now hearing this. You could have warned me.”

I squinted at the phone, amazed at how accurately I’d predicted her reaction. She’d already shifted all the blame to me.

“Melanie, I’ve been telling you Solana was up to something, but you refused to believe me. What’s the point of another call?”

“You’re the one who said she was okay.”

“Right, and you were the one who told me to limit my investigation to her degree, the last place she worked, and a couple of references.”

“I said that?”

“Yes, dear. I make a habit of writing down the instructions I’m given in a case like this. Now will you get off your high horse and help me out?”

“Doing what?”

“For one thing, you could fly out and testify on my behalf when I make my court appearance.”

“For what?”

“The restraining order. I can’t get close to Gus because Solana’s there full-time, but you’re still entitled to see him unless she gets an order out on you. You could also initiate the paperwork challenging her appointment. You’re his only living relative and you’re entitled to a say. Oh, and while I have you on the line, I might as well alert you. Once I type up my report, I’m sending a copy to the DA. Maybe they can step in and put a stop to her.”

“Fine. Do that. I’ll be out as soon as I can make arrangements.”

“Good.”

That matter taken care of, I put a call through to Richard Compton, who said he’d get in touch with Norman and tell him to give me free rein searching records in the basement of the complex. I gave him a rough estimate of when I’d be there and he said he’d clear it. I had two stops to make before I hit Colgate, the first being the drugstore where I’d left the canister of film the day before. Prints in hand, I drove over to the Sunrise House and pushed through the front door, feeling an easy familiarity since I’d been there before. I’d called in advance and spoken to Lana Sherman, the LVN I’d consulted during the background check on Solana Rojas. She said she could spare me a few minutes as long as no emergencies arose.