Anonymous Tip: In Which Gwen Calls Bill a Pig

A Review Series of Anonymous Tip, by Michael Farris 

When we left off last week, Gwen had just collapsed in sobs in her father’s arms. Lawyer Bill Walinski flubbed the hearing, just as we had expected based on Farris’s portrayal of him, and Judge Romer of the juvenile court had ordered Gwen’s four-year-old daughter, Casey, into foster care for one week for observation, based, of course, on social worker Donna Corliss’s lie that she had found fading bruises on Casey during a strip search. As I’m sure my readers are all wondering—what happened next?

Well first, of course, someone has to tell Casey. But, Farris tells us, Gwen “could not bring herself to tell Casey what had happened.” Instead she simply sat in the conference room holding Casey and crying. And so, the task of telling Casey what was wrong fell to her grandpa, Stan Mansfield.

“Casey honey,” her Grandpa bean, crouching by Casey’s side and holding her right hand, “I have to tell you something.”

Casey looked anxiously about the room, sensing trouble but being too young to guess at its meaning.

“A judge just decided that he wants some special doctors to look at you for a few days. Those ladies who came to your home said some bad things and he wants the doctors to see if they are true.”

So far Casey didn’t see anything all that terrible from what she was able to comprehend.

“While you are being checked out by these special doctors, you are going to have to stay with a different family.”

“Are you going to go with me too, Grandpa, or just Mommy?” Casey asked with wide-eyed innocence.

“Honey,” her grandfather said softly, “none of us get to come with you to this other family’s house.

Something about Farris’s portrayal of Casey is bothering me, but I’m not sure what exactly. For one thing, four-year-olds are actually pretty smart—smarter than Farris lets on. But maybe, at its base, what’s bothering me is that Farris is playing up Casey’s “innocence” at the expense of giving her a personality.

But the weirdest thing about this exchange between Casey and her grandpa is that that’s where it ends. We don’t actually get Casey’s reaction. I think this is because Farris is focusing not on Casey’s feelings but on how hard it is for Stan to tell Casey what’s going to happen.  While Farris does talk about Casey’s fear of the social workers, and her traumatic experience during the strip search, at heart, this book is not about the impact the case has on Casey but rather the impact it has on Gwen and Stan.

At this point Stan asks Bill to ask the judge if they can hand Casey off to the foster family some place other than the CPS office. “Casey is legitimately fearful of those women,” he explains. Walinski says that he’ll have to get the prosecutor to go talk to the judge with him—-“I am not supposed to talk to the judge alone about anything of substance”—and hurries off to see what he can do.

Casey’s grandmother was on the verge of tears, but maintained her composure. Gwen continued to cry but was more in control than she had been in the courtroom. Her fear that this might happen was somehow worse than the actual event. Perhaps it was the numbness of the moment, perhaps it was her refusal to believe that this would last longer than seven days. Whatever the reason, she was shaken, but clearly not hysterical.

God forbid Gwen be hysterical—you know, like when she called the social workers “nazis” and “witches” several chapters ago. Farris’s concern about Gwen being hysterical seems to be a bit selective.

The adults quietly talked over the logistics of gathering Casey’s things in words designed to prevent her from understanding if possible. They were reasonably successful in keeping Casey from understanding the full implications of their statements.

But didn’t they already tell Casey? Why all the secrecy now?

Bill comes back and says he got the location changed—they’re now to hand Casey off at 2:00 in the conference room at the juvenile court instead of at the CPS office.

“Thanks,” Stan replied with a hint of sharpness in his voice that implied “at least you were able to accomplish that.”

Walinski goes into lawyer mode, and says they should start making preparations for the hearing the next week. He notes the importance of getting Casey transferred to the foster family “in a timely fashion” and suggests that Stan and June take Casey and get her things while he and Gwen stay in the conference room to discuss what evidence they may be able to pull together in a week’s time.

Gwen is “torn” because she would rather not leave Casey—the hearing was at 10:00, so there are still several hours before 2:00—but Bill tells her his schedule is so busy that week that it really has to be then, and not later. “I have an hour or just a bit more,” he says.

Gwen reluctantly nodded in approval. “I guess winning is more important than the next couple of hours,” she said with a deep sigh.

I actually feel pretty bad for Gwen right now, because I know, given the way Farris introduced Bill, that Bill is bullshitting her and could easily meet later in the afternoon or the next day.

“All right,” Stan replied. “Casey, Grandma and I are going to take you home, pack a few things, and then we will go to Wendy’s and meet your Mommy back here in a few hours.”

I feel like Gwen could meet with Bill and then have lunch at Wendy’s with Stan, Gwen, and Casey—it can’t be later than 11:00 now—but okay.

Casey was used to going with her grandparents and this was perfectly comfortable to her. Judge Romer would have undoubtedly allowed Casey to stay in their custody during the seven-day period if Walinksi had thought to suggest it at the time.

Finally we get this question answered! But . . . I still have questions. First, why didn’t Donna at least consider placing Casey with her grandparents? It would have been interesting to see her argue to Gail, the prosecutor, that the grandparents were somehow complicit and that it was of the utmost importance to place Casey with a foster family instead. I don’t think Judge Romer would have bought that argument necessarily, but this is something Donna and Gail should have at least thought through. Farris keeps telling us they’re the best of the best—the ace social worker and the star reporter—but they don’t come across that way at all.

Also, wouldn’t Judge Romer ask whether there were any suitable family members Casey could stay with? And shouldn’t we at least hear Bill’s inner voice as he considers making this request and decides against it? After all, we’re meant to think that Bill consciously threw this hearing. Wouldn’t he know he could request to have Casey placed with her grandparents? Surely if he were that incompetent he wouldn’t be practicing law. And if he did know, shouldn’t we at least know why he decided not to request it?

And why has Gordon, Casey’s father, not been contacted or notified in any way? We have seen no indication, thus far, that Donna has even asked about Casey’s father.

So, anyway, Gwen says goodbye to Casey and Walinski pulls out a yellow legal pad “as if he were really going to talk legal strategy with her.” Then this exchange happens:

“Gwen, I am sorry we lost that hearing, but we can do more next week. Frankly, it was the financial limitations that I was working under which hampered my ability to do everything possible today.”

Gwen looked bewildered but waited for him to conclude his thought.

“I had an idea about how we might be able to work out an arrangement on this case that doesn’t involve money, and in effect would allow me to do this case for free.”

Gwen pushed her long blond hair behind her left ear. It was a move meant to calm her nerves, but he thought she looked even more alluring and was emboldened to continue.

“Gwen, my marriage is a failure. And I am in real need of female companionship.”

She began to understand but was frozen speechless in disbelief.

“And if you could see your way clear to be my special friend for a while, and help me with my need for cozy companionship . . .”

As he said the word “cozy,” he reached across the table and placed his left hand firmly on top of her right hand and started to rub her hand with his thumb.

Her temper erupted in undisguised anger. “You pig! You incompetent, immoral pig! You are the most disgusting . . . ”

She had much more to say, but suddenly wanted out more than she wanted to yell at this philandering lawyer.

And at that point Gwen leaves the conference room and runs out to the parking lot.

I think that was more than Gwen’s temper erupting. Thank you so much for that, Farris. When Gwen calls the social workers who strip searched her daughter “nazis” and “witches” it’s justified anger, but when she calls her lawyer an immoral pig when he sexually harasses her, it’s her temper. Got it.

I’m wondering if there’s somewhere Gwen could report Bill’s behavior. Can a lawyer be disbarred for using his position to coerce sexual favors from his clients? Surely they can, right? Frankly, I’m with Gwen on this being the most disgusting—Gwen doesn’t have a lot of money, and Bill knows that. Bill is exploiting Gwen’s love for her daughter to coerce Gwen into having sex with him. That is incredibly disgusting and utterly reprehensible.

Also, I had no idea Bill was married. Given the scene Farris gave us a chapter or two ago of Bill at home fantasizing about Gwen over a lonely beer, and the lack of any mention of a wife heretofore, I would have guessed he wasn’t.

We’ll leave off here and start next week with what happens to Gwen in the parking lot.