“Did you tell the cops about the beating? That the brother did it?”
Norm shook his head. “It didn’t seem right. If it was my sister and some guy did that…” He looked down. “I guess I felt I had it coming.”
Philips nodded to show that he understood. “Why have you come to see me?”
“Like I said, Casey’s folks sent her to Europe. If it’s an abortion I guess I’m too late. But if she’s having the baby and is going to give it away I don’t want that.”
“Do you want to marry the girl?”
“If she wanted me to I would, but I don’t think she wants to marry me. Her dad probably wouldn’t let her, anyway.”
“Why is that?”
“She’s really rich. Besides, I don’t think she loves me.”
“Do you love her?”
“I like her. We get along but…I don’t know.”
“If you don’t want to marry her and she doesn’t want to marry you and the child is probably going to be put up for adoption, I don’t understand what you want from me.”
Norman looked across the desk at Ken Philips. His hands twisted around each other and he hunched forward.
“Mr. Philips, can a man raise a baby? Do I have any rights to my kid?”
“You want to raise the child?”
“I’ve thought about this. It’s my kid, too, isn’t it? I don’t want a stranger taking care of my baby. It doesn’t seem right.”
“How old are you?”
“Nineteen. I’ll be twenty in a few months.”
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to raise a child? It’s a full-time job. How would you go to college? How could you support the baby and take care of it?”
“I can work. I’d get a job and go nights to finish school. I can go to Portland State.”
“Who would watch the baby while you were working and going to school?”
Norm hadn’t thought about that. “My father is on disability. He’s home all day.”
“And he’s willing to take care of an infant? Have you talked to him, or your mother, about this?”
“No, but they’ve always stood by me,” Norm answered stubbornly.
“How do you know that this girl won’t want the baby?”
“I don’t for sure. Like I said, she won’t talk to me, so I can’t ask her anything. But I know Casey. She’s not the type to keep a baby. She likes to party, she’s ambitious.”
“You could be wrong about her. Maybe she does want the baby.”
“Then why is she in Europe? And, even if she does want it, wouldn’t I still have rights? I’m the father.”
Philips was quiet for a few minutes while he thought about the case. He liked this earnest young man. There weren’t many teenage boys who would be willing to give up everything to raise a child.
“Who is Casey’s father? Maybe I could talk to them on your behalf.”
“Henry Van Meter.”
Ken Philips blinked. “The Van Meters of Van Meter Industries?”
Norm nodded. “Does that make a difference?”
Philips laughed. “Of course it does. Henry Van Meter is one of the most powerful men in this state and a totally ruthless bastard. If Henry doesn’t want you to have custody, there will be a no-holds-barred battle and you will be on his shit list forever.”
Norm’s face dropped. He looked pathetic. “So you won’t do it?”
Philips shook his head slowly. “I didn’t say that.”
He leaned back and rested his chin on his hands. Norm waited, shifting nervously in his chair. Finally, Philips sat up. He had an idea but he didn’t want to discuss it with his young client just yet.
“I need to meet with your parents,” Philips said. “I’m not going any further until I’ve talked with them.”
Norm had been afraid of this, but he guessed there was no way to avoid it.
“What about the money? Can you tell me what this will cost?”
“Don’t worry about my fee right now. You’re a minor, and we’re not going to do a thing if your folks won’t support you.”
“I guess you have to talk to them.”
“You guess right. And there’s something else I have to do. Sit tight while I get my camera.”
5
Anton Brucher clothed his lean, storklike frame in hand-tailored silk suits. His sunken cheeks and the dark circles under his eyes were a testament to the hours he put in on behalf of his clients. Brucher was a hard and humorless advisor with a finely honed intellect and no perceptible morals. He viewed lawyers like Ken Philips, who worked for Communists, Negroes, and the like, with distaste, but he did not underestimate Philips’s intelligence.
Henry Van Meter studied Ken Philips with disdain from the end of the conference room. Van Meter’s jet-black hair was swept back from his high forehead. His violent eyes and craggy nose warned of a rock-hard temperament and a philosophy that had no room in it for mercy. Henry had fumed at the idea of meeting with Philips, and consented only when Brucher warned him that the lawyer had ruined the lives of several powerful men who had chosen to ignore him.
Brucher, Platt and Heinecken occupied the top two floors in an office building in the heart of Portland. They were meeting in a small conference room located on the second of these floors, in the rear, to lessen the risk of Henry being seen with Philips. When Brucher introduced Norman ’s lawyer, Van Meter did not extend his hand.
“What is it you want?” Henry asked without preamble.
“A peaceful solution to a difficult problem.”
“I know of no problem that involves me and your client. I’m only here because Anton insisted that I listen to you.”
Philips smiled. “I’m glad there isn’t any problem between you and Norman Spencer. He’s a fine young man who’s only interested in doing what is right. If we can agree to resolve this matter amicably, Norman and your family will benefit.”
“You’re being obtuse, Mr. Philips. Please come to the point.”
Philips’s head bobbed. “You’re right, Mr. Van Meter. Forgive me. I’ll be blunt. Norman and your daughter, Casey, had a summer romance. Your daughter became pregnant. Now she’s somewhere in Europe, supposedly for a semester abroad, but I’m guessing it has something to do with her pregnancy.
“You’re Catholic, so abortion is probably not on the agenda. I think she’ll carry the baby to term and put it up for adoption. If that’s the case, Norman wants to raise the baby. He wants to adopt. That’s why I’m here, to work things out.”
Van Meter’s features tightened as Philips spoke. He was livid by the time the lawyer finished.
“Your client is lucky that I’m not suing him for slander, which I will if you breathe one word of this scandalous accusation outside this room.”
“Your daughter isn’t pregnant?”
“The private life of Mr. Van Meter’s daughter is none of your business,” Brucher said.
“I beg to differ with you, Anton,” Philips answered calmly. “If she’s carrying my client’s child it is definitely my business. It will become the business of the courts if you and Mr. Van Meter persist in insulting my intelligence and threatening my client.”
Philips turned to Henry Van Meter. “If we sue for custody, your daughter will be fodder for every gossipmonger in the state. Is that what you want?”
“How much?” Brucher asked.
Philips shook his head in disgust. “Now that is insulting. But I’ll let it pass. Norman isn’t after Mr. Van Meter’s money. He is a very moral young man who wants to do what is right.”
“Your client has been misinformed,” Henry said. “My daughter is studying abroad. I’m not convinced that she even knows this person. She never mentioned him to me.”
Philips took several photographs of Norm’s battered face and laid them on the conference table.
“If Casey doesn’t know Norman, and she isn’t pregnant, what was your son’s motive in beating my client to a pulp?”