When The Bough Breaks

"On page six you'll see a partial list of our board."

I found it. For a partial list it was long, running the height of the page in small print. And impressive. It included two county supervisors, a member of the city council, the Mayor, judges, philanthropists, entertainment biggies, attorneys, businessmen, and plenty of

M.D.s, some of whose names I recognized. Like L. Willard Towle.

"Those are all busy men, Doctor. And yet they find the time for our children. Because we know how to tap that inner resource, that wellspring of altruism."

I flipped through the pages. There was a letter of endorsement from the governor, lots of photographs of children having fun, and even more pictures of McCaffrey. His looming bulk appeared pinstriped on the Donahue show, in tuxedo at a Music Center benefit, in a jogging suit with a group of his young charges at the victory line of the Special Olympics. McCaffrey with TV personalities, civil rights leaders, country singers and bank presidents.

Midway through the brochure I found a shot of McCaffrey in a room I recognized as the lecture hall at Western Pediatric. Next to him, white hair gleaming, was Towle. On the other side was a small man, froggy, squat, grim even as he smiled. The guy with Peter Lorre eyes whose photograph I'd seen in Towle's office. The caption beneath the photo identified him as the Honorable Edwin G. Hayden, supervising judge of the Dependency Court. The occasion was McCaffrey's address to the medical staff on "Child Welfare: Past, Present and Future."

"Is Dr. Towle very involved in La Casa?" I asked.

"He serves on our board and is one of our rotating physicians. Do you know him?"

"We've met. Casually. I know him by reputation."

"Yes, an authority on behavioral pediatrics. We find his services invaluable."

"I'm sure you do."

He spent the next quarter - hour showing me his book, a soft - covered, locally printed volume of saccharine cliches and first - rate graphics. I bought a copy, for fifteen bucks, after he gave me a more sophisticated version of the pitch for cash Kruger had thrown my way. The bargain basement ambience of the office lent credibility to the spiel. Besides, I was O.D."ed on positive thinking and it seemed a small price to pay for respite.

He took the three five - dollar bills, folded them and placed them conspicuously in a collection box atop the desk. The receptacle was papered with a drawing of a solemn - looking child with eyes that rivaled Melody Quinn's in size, luminosity and the ability to project a sense of inner hurt.

He stood, thanked me for coming, and took my hand in both of his. "I hope we see more of you, Doctor. Soon."

It was my turn to smile.

"Plan on it, Reverend."

Grandma was ready for me as I stepped into the waiting room, with a sheaf of stapled booklets and two sharpened number two pencils.

"You can fill these out right here, Doctor Delaware," she said sweetly.

I looked at my watch.

"Gee, it's much later than I thought. I'll have to take a raincheck."

"But - " She became flustered.

"How about you give them to me to take home? I'll fill them out and mail them back to you."

"Oh no, I couldn't do that! These are psychological tests!" She clutched the papers to her breast. "The rules are that you must fill them out here."

"Well, then, I'll just have to come back." I started to leave.

"Wait. Let me ask someone. I'll ask Reverend Gus if it's - "

"He told me he was going to retire for a period of meditation. I don't think he wants to be disturbed."

"Oh." She was disoriented. "I must ask someone. You wait right here, Doctor, and I'll find Tim." "Sure."

When she was gone I slipped out the door, unnoticed.

The sun had almost set. It was that transitional time of day when the diurnal palette is slowly' scraped dry, colors falling aside to reveal a wash of gray, that ambiguous segment of twilight when everything looks just a little bit fuzzy around the edges.

I walked toward my car unsettled. I'd spent three hours at La Casa and had learned little other than that the Reverend Augustus McCaffrey was a shrewd old boy with overactive charisma glands. He'd taken the time to check me out and wanted me to know it. But only a paranoiac could rightfully see anything ominous in that. He was showing off, displaying how well informed and prepared he was. The same went for his advertising the abundance of friends in high places. It was psychological muscle - flexing. Power respected power, strength gravitated to strength. The more connections McCaffrey could show, the more he was going to get. And that was the way to big bucks. That, and collection boxes illustrated with sad - eyed waifs.

I had the key in the door of the Seville, facing the campus of the institution. It looked empty and still, like a well - run farm after the work's all done. Probably dinner time, with the kids in the cafeteria, the counselors watching, and the Reverend Gus delivering an eloquent benediction.

I felt foolish.