When The Bough Breaks

His eyebrows rose. "Yeah? You from his office? "Cause if you are, I got plenty - "

"No. I just know him."

"Then you know he's a nag. Gets into stuff he has no business getting into. My wife hears me say this, she'll kill me. She loves the guy. Says he's terrific with the kids, so who am I to argue, right? What kind of doctor are you, anyway?"

"Psychologist."

"The kid had problems, huh? Wouldn't surprise me. She looked a little iffy, if you know what I mean." He held out his hand, tilted it like the wing of a glider.

"You said Dr. Towle got you into the mess with Bonita Quinn?"

"That's right. I met the guy once or twice, maybe. I don't know him from Adam. One day he calls me out of the clear blue and asks me if I could give a job to a patient of his. He heard there was an opening for a manager in this place, and could I help this lady out. I say does this person have experience - we're talking multiple units here, not some duplex. He says no, but she can learn, she's got a kid, needs the money. I say, listen, Doc, this particular building is singles - oriented, the job's not right for someone with a kid. The manager's place is too small." He looked at me scowling. "Would you stick a kid in a hole like this?"

"No."

"Me neither. You don't have to be a doctor to see it's not fit. I tell Towle this. I explain it to him. I say, Doc, this job is meant for a single person. Usually I get a student from UCLA to do it - they don't need a lot of space. I've got other buildings, I tell him. In Van Nuys, a couple in Canoga Park, more family - oriented. Let me call my man in the Valley, have him check it out, I'll see if I can help this person.

"Towle says, no, it has to be this building. The kid's already enrolled in school in this neighborhood, to move her would be traumatic, he's a doctor, he knows this to be a fact. I say, but Doc, you can't have kids making noise in a place like this. The tenants are mostly singles, some like to sleep late. He says I guarantee you this kid is well - behaved, she makes no noise. I think to myself this kid makes no noise, there's gotta be something wrong with her - now you show up and it make sense.

"I try to put him off, but he presses me. He's a nag. My wife loves him, she'll kill me if I get him pissed off, so I say okay. He makes an appointment for me to meet this lady, shows up with the Quinn broad and the kid. I was surprised. I gave it a little thought the night before, figured he was humping this broad, that's why the Albert Schweitzer routine. I expected something classy, with curves. One of those aspiring actress types, you know what I mean? He's older, but he's a classy - looking guy, right? So in he walks with her and the kid and they look like a pair outta the Dust Bowl, real hicks. The mother is scared outta her skull, she's smoking more than me, which is a feat the kid's, like I told you, a little iffy, just stares into space, though I'll grant you she's quiet. Didn't make a sound. I had my doubts she could handle the job, but what could I do, I already committed myself. I hired her. She did okay. She was a hard worker, but she learned very slowly. No complaints about the kid, though. Anyway, she stays for a few months, then she flies the coop leaving me with this junk and she's probably got five grand worth of rent checks, I have to go back and trace 'em and have the tenants put stops on 'em and write new ones. I gotta clean this place, hire someone new. Let me tell you, no more Mister Nice Guy for Marty. For doctors or anyone else."

He folded his arms over his chest.

"You have no idea where she went?" I asked.

"I did, would I be standing here jawing with you?"

He went into the bedroom. It was as bleak as I remembered it.

"Look at this. How can people raise kids like this? I got three, each has his own room, they got TVs, bookshelves, Pac Mans, all that stuff. How can a kid's mind grow in a place like this?"

"If you hear from her or find out where she is, would you please call me?" I took out an old business card, crossed out the number and wrote my home phone number on it.

He glanced at it, and put it in his pocket. Running one finger along the top of the dresser he came up with a digit cloaked with dust kittys. He flung the dust away. "Yecch. I hate dirt. I like things to be clean, know what I mean? My apartments are always clean - I pay extra for the best cleaning service. It's important tenants should feel healthy in a place."

"You'll call me?"

"Sure, sure. You do the same for me, too, okay? I wouldn't mind finding Miss Bonita, get my checks back, give her a piece of my mind." He fished in his pocket, pulled out an alligator billfold and from it produced a pearl - gray business card that said M and M Properties, Commercial and Residential, Marduk I. Minassian, President, followed by a Century City address.

"Thanks, Mr. Minassian."

"Marty."