When We Get to San Francisco…

Harry recalled the young woman he'd seen on the corner – Louise, was it? "That young woman who just went inside is your daughter, is she?" he asked, feigning outrage as best he could.

"Louise? No!" Frank scoffed. "She was introduced to me last week as a friend of my daughter's. But a mean hears rumors, even in a city this big, and I did a little asking around in the right dark corners. It turns out she's a sort of minion of the doctor and his missus. When there's a girl in trouble who wants his help, Louise is the one who arranges the meeting. And my daughter, Lorene..." at this Frank paused and pulled out his handkerchief to stifle a sob of rage. "We are a good, clean, God-fearing family!" he snapped disgustedly. "I don't know what my daughter did or who the evil young man was, but it seems the damage has been done, and that man is going to compound the tragedy this afternoon if I don't stop him!"

"I'm...I'm sorry," Harry stammered. Though he felt no sympathy at all, a plan was growing rapidly in his mind. "I take it you'd rather send your daughter away for a vacation, is that it?"

"My brother has a ranch down in Texas. No one would ever need to know what the little slut did."

"What's she had to say about that option?" Harry couldn't help asking; he'd had fifteen years to think about such things in a vain attempt to ease the pain from his own loss.

"She doesn't know I know," Frank said. "Neither does her mother. The news nearly destroyed her, I'll tell you what. This would only make it all the worse. That's why I'm going to get in there this afternoon one way or another and put a stop to it, and with any luck to Doctor Billingston once and for all!"

"If she doesn't know you know," Harry asked, struggling to keep up, "How do you know she has an appointment this afternoon?"

"She told her mother and me she was going to the pictures with that Louise bitch this afternoon," he said. "Now that Louise has been here, I have no doubt where the two of them are really going to be. But obviously we can't get in the front door – forgive me, sir, for witnessing your humiliation, but it was at least very informative for me. If you don't mind my asking, what was your business with Doctor Billingston?"

"Oh, you know," Harry stammered, not daring to tell the truth. "Like you, a friend of the family, bringing shame upon everyone they know. I merely wanted to let the good doctor know of the damage he's done...you know..."

"Fancy doing a bit more than that?" Frank asked.

"How do you intend to do that?"

"A little bird told me, when they bring girls in for...for what that bastard will be doing to my little girl, they bring them in the back door. They have a guard to make sure the girls can get inside safely. But when they're not expecting anyone to be coming or going, the back door is unguarded. It's locked, but not guarded. Now, if we can look inconspicuous there in the alley, perhaps if we look like rag-men..."

"Then 'tis but a bit of picking," Harry said, recalling his own exploits to that end decades ago in the back streets of Wheeling. "I'm in!"

"Wonderful," Frank said. "I know where I can get us some suitably raggedy clothes for a disguise." He stood up and shook Harry's hand. "Meet me here at two o'clock or so?"

"Indeed, sir." And Frank was off, leaving Harry to ponder just what he might do once they were in the building. Best to play it by ear, he supposed.

With little else to attend to, Harry ordered another pot of tea and settled in for a long morning of people-watching. Having no further need to dwell on getting into Bill's building just now, he gave little additional thought to keeping an eye out for him. And so he nearly failed to notice at all when the Pierce Arrow came roaring around the corner and down the street an hour later. He looked up just in time to see Mary looking away from the ladies across the street, who were once again hurling their invective at them both. Before he had even realized who it was, Harry realized he and Mary had looked one another in the eye for just an instant.

"I certainly hope Molly's has our favorite booth free for lunch," Bill said as he gunned the car down the street. "What an absolutely mad morning, huh?"

Thanks to Bill's small talk, Mary realized he had not heard her gasp at what, or rather whom, she believed she had just seen. Collecting her bearings about her, she turned to her husband. "Sorry, Bill, what was that?" she asked.

"Only that I hope Molly's isn't too crowded for lunch," he replied. Thank heavens, Mary thought, he has no idea! But was there anything to concern herself about? She had had but two looks at the man, so very long ago and under such uncomfortable circumstances...silly to believe she would recognize him now, really.

And yet, what if it was him?

One benefit to a visit from Louise was that Mary and Bill were extra careful to avoid any discussion of work while in public on the day of the procedure. And so Mary had no trouble steering the conversation in the direction she wished once they were settled in Bill's favorite booth at Molly's. (It had been occupied, but Molly, a grateful patient of Bill's, had seen to it that the other party was relocated to a nice alternative location.) "Say, Bill," she said gingerly as they sipped their drinks, "I've been thinking of a vacation this summer. It's been so very long since we've had one."

"Lovely idea," Bill agreed. Then, with a grin, he added, "I suppose Charlie and Anna have been pestering you about San Francisco again."

"Well, we could do that," Mary agreed. "Heaven knows how much Charlie would love to meet Candy! But I've been thinking...maybe Chicago or New York. Or both, even."

"Mary!" Bill looked aghast, as if she had made a horribly inappropriate joke. "We've worked so hard to put all that behind us!"

"What would the harm be now?" Mary insisted. "It's not as though I'm going to set foot in Manhattan and have people leaning out their windows to call me a slut after all these years!"

"What if we stumbled upon your family, Mary?"

"What if we did? Then I could show them how well I've overcome all the abuse they heaped on me. Besides, maybe, after all these years, they'd be ready to make amends. I think I could forgive them."

"Is that it?" Bill asked. "You want to see your family again?" He looked more sympathetic now, though clearly he did not relish the idea in the least.

"Well, don't you ever wonder about yours?" Mary asked.

"Of course I do," Bill said. "But what could I say to them by now? For that matter, what would my mother have to say to you? Whatever she'd say, I'll bet you couldn't print it in papers!"

"Well, undoubtedly," Mary conceded. "But your father? You always said he wasn't half as bad as she was."

"He wasn't," Bill agreed. "But he also lied to me all my life about who he really was, and he brought me up to hate people whose only crime was that they were too much like he used to be. I guess I've forgiven him, Mary, but what is there to say at this late date. Come to think of it, Mary, we don't even know if he's still alive, for heaven's sake!"

"But wouldn't it be nice to know for sure?" Mary asked.

"I doubt it," Bill said. "I don't even know where I'd begin."

The waiter arrived with their sandwiches before Mary could think of anything to add, and so the topic was dropped most unsatisfactorily. If her suspicions were correct, Mary likely would not be in a condition to travel over the summer anyway. But all she had really wanted was a sense of whether she ought to tell Bill of whom she believed she had seen. The answer was not what she had hoped for, but she did have an answer in any event.

Mary couldn't resist a long look at the café as they drove past it on the way back to work. Harry had anticipated as much, so he was nowhere to be seen when she gazed up and down the block in search of the barely-familiar face. Instead he was in his hotel room, enjoying a long soak in the bathtub as he pondered his next move. Though refreshed and revived when he made his way downstairs shortly thereafter, he had made no progress in his plans for what to do once he was in the building. There were just too many ambiguities to make any firm plans.

One goal he did have was to disguise his contempt for his new "friend" Frank. This he did successfully with a smile and a handshake as they met near the door to the café. "I've got out costumes," Frank told him, pulling a paper-wrapped parcel from under his arm. "Have you got someplace to change clothes?"

"For me, I do," Harry said; he was not having Frank up to his hotel room.

"Very good, then, I'll change in my car," Frank said. "I'm parked in the garage behind the doctor's building. Let's meet there in ten minutes?"

"Okay," Harry agreed. With a cordial nod he was back off upstairs, where he soon discovered his partner in crime was no master of disguise. His costume was simply a newly purchased sweater and pair of pants, each slit with dozens of clean, fresh cuts in their fabric that had probably been made by a razor in Frank's car that very hour. But Harry supposed he would look convincingly like a ragpicker from a distance, in any case. He put the mutilated clothes on and, not caring to be seen by the hotel staff if possible, made his way downstairs and out the backdoor. He took the alley down to the far cross-street, hoping to stay out of sight of Bill's guards, and ran up the block and across the avenue as quickly as he could. He had little trouble in that endeavor, for passerby all steered clear of him at first sight.

He found Frank in the garage, looking askance at Bill and Mary's Pierce Arrow. "That's the bastard's car," he said. "If only I had a bomb."

Harry had had enough. "Now, see here, Frank! The man is a human being, whatever you think of his work, and –"

"And he's going to let my daughter off scot free for being a little slut!" Frank hissed. "He belongs in hell, the sooner the better. But you're right, we shouldn't sabotage his car. That might harm his wife, too, and surely all this isn't her fault, is it? I do wonder if she knew just what that man was when she married him, though."

She knew all right, Harry thought with considerable pride which he forced to tamp down for the moment. "Two o'clock", he said when a church bell chimed twice a few blocks off. "I guess it's now or never, friend."

"Let's do it," Frank agreed. As they crossed the alley, he admitted in a whisper, "I've never picked a lock."

"I have," Harry reassured him. "Some of us dignified old men had a misspent youth of their own, you know." He had scared up a couple of suitable picks from the various scraps in the custodian's closet he'd visited on the sly at the hotel, and with Frank pretending to sift through the rubbish bins next to the door, he soon had them inside. They found the basement deserted, and settled down to wait for Louise and the guards to put in an appearance.

Upstairs, Mary went to inspect the room just as soon as Bill had a few minutes to spare with a patient who didn't require her presence. Louise had done a great job as always, and the table, stand and tools were spotless as always. It would make things ever so much easier if she could at least leave the bookcase pushed aside in waiting for the patient's arrival. But she and Bill both knew it was absolutely essential that no one else even knew of the room's existence, much less actually see inside it. As one concession, Mary left the electric light on, so at least the poor girl wouldn't find herself being led into a dark room on top of everything else.

She arrived back in the exam room just in time to see Bill's latest patient, Polly, pulling her dress back on. "I believe Mary has told you about her workshops if you're interested," he was asking her.

"Oh, yes!" Polly said. "I'm definitely going to keep that in mind. I just want to see, well, if I have any questions first. It's just, you know...I don't really know anything about how all this works, is all."

"You know more than I do, Polly, you're the one who's been a woman all these years, after all," Bill said. "All I did was teach you a bit about how it all works."

"Thank you, doctor!" Turning to Mary, she nodded. "Ma'am," she said a bit shyly.

"Jane will settle your bill at the desk," Mary said. "We'll see you next time."

"Is the room set?" Bill asked as he set about washing his hands.

"Everything but the patient," Mary said.

"What do we know about her?"

"Only her name and age."

"You know the rules," Bill said. "Don't tell me."

"Of course." Due to the unpleasant task ahead, Mary had nearly forgotten about the sighting in the street, and was able to keep it at the back of her mind for now.

Once his hands were dry, Bill was off to the room. Mary waited behind for a few moments, in keeping with their established protocol to avoid arousing the suspicions of any of their patients. The next patient, Mrs. Chase, was there only for a routine pregnancy checkup and would no doubt welcome the opportunity to relax in the exam room for a few more minutes anyway.

Mary had just enough time to settle Mrs. Chase gratefully on the couch they kept in the exam room for just such a situation when she heard the office door creak outside. She emerged into the mercifully empty waiting room just in time to see Louise ushering a frightened looking young woman in a school uniform into the office. Remembering to smile through the unpleasantness, Mary bade them welcome. "Hello, Louise. Lorene? Welcome."

"Th..thank you, ma'am," Lorene said. The poor dear looked deathly pale. Mary wished she could give her a hug, but that just might make her even more uncomfortable.

"My name is Mary, and I can be with you while you're with the doctor if you'd like. Or Louise can join you. Either way, I want you to know you're in good hands. The doctor knows what he's doing, and you'll be perfectly safe."

"Thanks," Lorene said, barely above a whisper. "I think I'd like –"

She was interrupted by a clatter in the hallway. "Get your goddam hands off me! We're running out of time!" came a male voice. Upon hearing it, Lorene clasped her hand over her mouth and looked even more terrified.

"Have you no idea what you're going to do to your daughter?" demanded another man.

Putting two and two together, Louise rushed the girl into the storage room and slammed the door just in time to miss seeing the waiting room door burst open. Frank attempted to throw himself inside, but Harry was holding him back. Both were pocked with bruises and scratches enough to make their costumes look almost authentic.

Mary tried to take control of the situation, and in the heat of the moment she failed to recognize the man she had spotted earlier at the café. "Gentlemen! This will not do. What on earth is the matter?!"

Bill, alerted to the crisis by Louise, burst out of the storage room, slamming its door behind him. "What in God's name is going on?" he demanded, joining Mary at the door to block the invaders. Realizing that they were fighting one another rather than Mary, he inserted himself between them and pushed them apart. "Now, tell me," he demanded, looking first at Frank, then turning to Harry. "What exactly is..." his voice trailed away as he took in Harry's face and realized who he was. "Father?!" He gasped in disbelief and looked to Mary for confirmation; by now she had realized her earlier suspicion was correct.

"Bill, see here," Harry began.

"Father?!" Frank repeated. "You're his father?"

"I am, and you're trespassing," Harry shot back.

At that moment, Harry's old friend Lou appeared on the stairs, winded from rushing up at the sound of the commotion. "Dreadful sorry, Doctor," he said. "These two no-good shlubs were hiding in the basement, I think."

"Officer, he's butchering my daughter!" Frank shrieked as Lou threw him up against the wall and cuffed him.

"Sure he is, buddy. Tell the judge all about it." With that he turned his attention to Harry. "You again!"

"It's okay, Lou, this one can stay," Bill said. "He's my father."

"He is?!" Lou looked incredulously at Harry. "Why in God's name didn't you just tell me that this morning?"

"It's an awfully long story, Lou," Mary said. "We're sorry for the confusion."

"I guess I'm the one who ought to be apologizing," Lou said. "I chased him off this morning. But he wouldn't tell me who he was."

"We understand," said Bill, though he wasn't at all sure of that. "Just please be sure to keep that one away from my patients," he said, pointing at Frank.

"We'll give him a night in jail to think about it, I think," Lou said, leading him off down the hall to the stairwell.

The crisis being over, Bill ushered his father into the waiting room and shut the door. Father and son stood gazing silently at one another for what seemed a long time, but was probably only a few minutes. Mary groped in vain for something to say, and found herself hanging uncertainly onto Bill's arm. "I really ought to explain," Harry said at last.

"Indeed you ought," Bill agreed. "But I have a patient to attend to first. Mary, we'll probably need your help in calming the poor girl down, too."

"Of course," Mary agreed. "We'll be back shortly, Mr. Billingston."

"That's 'Mr. Johnson,' Mary," Harry corrected her. "But I'd be most honored if you'd call me 'Father'."

"We'll discuss that later," Mary said, managing a polite smile as she followed Bill into the storage room.

Inside, they found Louise trying in vain to soothe Lorene, who was sobbing uncontrollably. "He knows! They know! I'm ruined!"

Bill stood back, inside the door, while Mary stooped down to look at Lorene. "If you don't want to go through with it, that's up to you, Lorene," she said, realizing a moment too late that she had slipped up and used the poor girl's name in Bill's presence.

"It's not that! I don't want a baby! I don't want to be pregnant! But my parents were never supposed to know! Now what can I do? They can hold him overnight, but when he gets home he'll murder me. I just know it!"

Mary looked over her head at Louise. "If you need a new place to stay, we know a safe-house for girls who've been in trouble. Louise can take you there. You can finish school, and you won't have to see your parents again until you feel safe with them."

"Then what?" Lorene wailed.

"Then you might find your parents more forgiving than you think. We've seen it happen many times. But if not, you will have your diploma. There's work available for educated women these days, you know. And didn't you want out of your father's house anyway?"

Lorene got herself under control at last. "That's true, I did. Now more than ever. And there's room for me at this house?"

"There always is," Louise said. "Doctor and Mrs. Billingston make sure of that."

"Louise, you aren't supposed to share that information," Mary admonished.

"Sorry!" Louise exclaimed.

"It's all right, Mrs. Billingston," Lorene said. "I won't tell. I promise."

Mary allowed her stern face to dissolve into a mild laugh. "Thank you, Lorene. Now, it is up to you; do you still want to terminate?"

"Yes," Lorene said. "I won't bring any baby into a world where it'll have to live with my parents, for starters."

"Right, then," Mary said, standing up. "Louise? Let's prepare her."

"I'll go check on Mrs. Chase while you're doing that," Bill said. On leaving the storage room, he found his next patient and her mother seated in the waiting room. Relieved that he wouldn't have to be alone with his father for the moment, he nodded and smiled at them. "Good afternoon, ladies," he said. "I'm sorry we were occupied just now."

"Oh, that's fine, doctor," one or the other of them said as he retreated into the examination room. He had managed to avoid eye contact with Harry altogether.