The Idea Scared Me

Previously: The Investigators talk with MJ Wong and hear some more music from an unexpected performer.

Photo and Graphic by Annie Wilson

12:23 PM - Sunday, November 2, 2014

Flood Mansion, Pacific Heights, San Francisco

Mark barely registered Mary Jane Wong approaching Charlie at the piano, or the way she slipped away after hugging him. His eyes burned as he realized he hadn’t even blinked since he sat down, still hearing the music echoing off the marble. Clearing his throat softly, he stood up again, his fatigue fighting the effort. He looked at Paco in the parlor doorway, his brow knitted like he hadn’t seen before. Even Jeannie looked breathless as he moved to stand next to her. She looked up at him, exhaling slowly. He nodded slightly.

“Charlie - could you come inside please?” Jeannie asked the boy softly. The Academy Headmaster moved at the same time on the other side of the room, making toward the parlor as Charlie stood from the piano bench, pushing it in before closing the key cover. Mark realized that whatever had just happened in the hall, its magic was broken. 

Charlie seemed much more subdued than the previous day, less shifty or edgy somehow. The silver flash in his eyes was there, but muted, quiet. He came in, sat at the table and made whispered smalltalk with the Headmaster while the team took their places. Mark felt like a machine running through the consent form, introductions, and recording this time. It felt muted too — useless. He felt useless. He heard Jeannie exhale quietly as she leaned back a little in her chair, Charlie’s eyes finally meeting hers.

“We meet again, Charlie.” She began softly. The boy nodded, swallowing. “Thank you for playing just now - that was extraordinary. I’m also glad to know your Steinway isn’t just part of the decor.”

“Do you play?” He ventured.

“I used to. My Dad secretly wanted me to be jazz pianist someday, but I’ve never played like that.” Charlie blushed slightly. “Which makes me wonder, why Stanford?” Charlie’s brows rose.

“I want to play water polo, I told you.” 

“But as far as music schools go, Stanford is good, but not at the top of the list. Especially in California. UCLA is pretty high up there by comparison, or even USC.”

“Well, I plan to study business first, maybe a double-major if I can do it.” Jeannie considered him and nodded slowly. “Where did you go?” Mark saw Jeannie’s face register surprise at this. She chuckled a little.

“I went to Cal. I studied sociology and political science.” It was Charlie’s turn to be surprised.

“And now you’re a cop?” She chuckled again, grinning a little.

“Well, it’s not that simple. I - I graduated Cal 9 years ago, and went to the Brookings Institute for a year before I got a job with the Obama campaign.” Mark couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He couldn’t help but look over to Paco whose eyes were wide with surprise. Charlie Dagonet even had an appreciative expression as he reassessed Jeannie, whose head was tilted as she tried to sort out the next part of her story. “After the election, I fell in love with my boyfriend, took my LSATs, applied all over and got into Hastings. I got in other places too, but — but, my Mom was sick and I was ready to come home. So, I went to Hastings. And my boyfriend moved out here…”

“And you lived happily ever after?” Charlie said quietly. Jeannie’s return smile was scant.

“Again, not that simple. Um - I finished law school in 2013, but I failed the bar.” Mark felt himself go cold. Even the Headmaster looked like he couldn’t believe her.

“That surprises me.” Charlie said simply.

“Well, my Mom died? Yeah, like a month before I started my third year. And I powered through and graduated Hastings, and —” she shook her head absently, “I couldn’t do it. Couldn’t get it together to study hard enough, my brain was…cooked. Mush. I didn’t have anything left. So I failed the July bar, and then maybe a month later I think I saw a little poster on the bus about the SFPD academy. And, I don’t know why, but it stuck with me, so I took the test and I got in and I started — I guess a little over a year ago? Academy is six months…and here we are. They gave me a star and a gun and everything.” Mark remembered what Jeannie had said about her father the day before and shivered slightly. 

“Your boyfriend knows he’s extra safe then.” This could have been snarky, but somehow Charlie sounded tender.

“Hmmm. Yeah, he hates it.” Jeannie said resignedly. “But that’s a whole other story.” She gave Charlie a slight smile. “And now that you’d gotten mine, it’s time for yours, okay?” Charlie smiled a little.

“Sure.” It was a whisper.

“So, I read your file from Academy, and it says you transferred in after Aiglon College, but prior to that, when you were last in San Francisco, you attended Xavier for your freshman year? Why the switch? Even if you came back to San Francisco you could probably have gone back to Xavier so I’m interested to know why not?” Charlie was quiet, rolling his lips before taking a deep breath.

“Um. I couldn’t go back to Xavier. I mean, I could. But I wouldn’t.”

“Can you share why?” He inhaled again and blew his breath out slowly.

“Ah - to begin at the beginning. Well. I have two older brothers. They’re three and five years older than me.”

“I have two as well. And they’re two and four years older.”

“Did they teach you how to drink?” Charlie challenged. Jeannie assessed him.

“Yeah, they did.” She admitted quietly.

“Yeah, mine did too. And I was twelve at the time.” He exhaled slowly. “So, by the time I finished my freshman year at Xavier I was a complete drunk. And I smoked weed every day, and was starting to do coke every so often too, but mostly it was the booze. The Jesuits suggested that if I cared to return to Xavier that I needed to go to rehab first. This was the first time my parents even realized what was going on.” His eyes were clear as he shrugged a little. “So my Mom found a place in Switzerland and that’s where I went for the next, oh, six or seven months I guess. It all happened really fast.”

“Why Switzerland?”

“Um, my parents were going to be moving to London for a year or two for my Dad’s work, and they wanted to be able to visit. I think they felt guilty things had gotten this far.” Charlie’s brow wrinkled as he thought.

“Tell me about rehab.” Charlie scoffed in response.

“What’s there to tell? Detox. Therapy. Coping skills. Health. Wellness. More therapy….”

“And then I was enrolled in Aiglon. They took me in mid-way through sophomore year, and I stayed until this summer - the end of Junior year. Except they call it grade 12 - senior year is grade 13 for them.”

“So why come back?” Charlie looked up at her with a wry smile.

“Well, the easiest place to get contraband booze and drugs is a fancy boarding school.”

“You relapsed?”

“No. No, not at all, but it wasn’t easy staying in line either. I started DJ’ing which helped. It seemed easier to be in a nightclub than my dorm house, where there was always something on offer. So, I thought about it, and realized that if I was to ever be successful at staying sober I had to get out of there. I missed San Francisco, and some of my friends, but didn’t want to be at Xavier any more. I knew how it was, and how it would be with Tripp and Seb as seniors. The idea scared me. So…I’m at Academy.” The Headmaster offered him a quiet smile.

“You knew Tripp and Seb before?”

“Of course, we went to Town School together for grammar school. And Tripp, he has older brothers too and believe me they did to him what mine did to me.”

“You think Tripp has a problem with booze?”

“Maybe? I know he enjoys his share, but I think he’s more about controlling the party. He always has the booze on hand so he’s always hosting, which means he controls it all. I think he gets a kick out of it: setting up games and challenges, dares, wagers, parlays…” Jeannie glanced at Mark quickly.

“Do you know if Tripp has access to drugs?” Mark asked quietly.

“Of course he does, everyone knows that.”

“Why didn’t you tell us that yesterday when we spoke to you?” Mark countered.

“You didn’t ask.” Charlie shot back. “And, you seemed pretty predisposed to suspect me of something, so I didn’t bother correcting you. Frankly, I was barely functioning when you showed up. I had been completely sick all night after the party.”

“What did you eat and drink there?” Jeannie asked. Charlie looked at the tabletop vacantly, biting his bottom lip. 

“I’ve been trying to piece it together ever since,” he said quietly, “because I didn’t really eat anything - I was DJ’ing the whole time. I was drinking water at my stand, and the only other thing I had was much later at night.”

“Okay.” Mark said, folding his arms and leaning back a little. “Take us through when you got to the Hartman house to the last thing you remember.” Charlie inhaled and looked toward Mark.

“I got there around 7 - everyone was due to arrive at 7:30 or so. I got set up in the living room, which is at the back of the house. They had sort of this black-lit haunted house set up going up the driveway as the entry to the party, right, so you go up the driveway and get spooked and then emerge in the back garden/patio and then go right into the living room. I did my set until about 9:30 or so, the crowd had kind of thinned out by then, and I started packing up my stuff because I wanted to be sure to get it home. The idea was that I was going to come back and meet everyone at Inspiration Point, but I had all my speakers and computer and board, so I was just going to run it all home first.”

“Got it. So you’re packing up, and then what?”

“And I’m shuttling things out to the car, and…” Charlie’s breath caught, “and Alexa came up to me. She caught me in the driveway outside. She asked me if I could take her friend Ryan home since it was close to his curfew and that it would be hard to get an Uber.” Mark and Jeannie both glanced at each other, remembering what Ryan had told them the day before. “I said I’d drop him, since he only lives a few minutes away in the Presidio and that it wouldn’t be any trouble. So, I go inside and I get my last few things, and I come out and Alexa’s there with Ryan and Alexa walks us to my car, Ryan gets in, and I see her and Carolina start to walk out of Presidio Terrace and head to Inspiration Point, and then Ryan and I drive away.”

“Did you and Ryan talk on the way?” Jeannie asked quietly.

“Not really. He seemed upset. Like, maybe he had even been crying, I wasn’t sure. I didn’t ask.”

“What time did you drop him off?”

“I guess it must have been around 9:45 or a little before 10? I think he said his curfew was 10.”

“And then where did you go?” Mark continued.

“I went to my place and unloaded my stuff, which took like 5 -10 minutes, and then I headed back to Tripp’s thinking maybe I’d park there again and walk to Inspiration Point. I thought if anyone were still at Tripp’s I’d go with them. At that point, Presidio Terrace was letting cars in, so I parked right in front of Tripp’s.” Charlie’s eyes went vacant as he remembered. “I wish, I wish I’d just driven to Inspiration Point.”

“Why?” Jeannie said gently.

“Because I went inside, and - “ Charlie squinted a little, “and Tally was there. Alone. Or it seemed like she was alone. And I thought it was weird that she was alone at Tripp’s house just hanging out but she said she needed to charge her phone before she went over. So, I offered to wait with her, and she offered - oh shit, she offered to get me a Diet Coke.”

“Go on.” Mark encouraged. Charlie sighed.

“I saw her crack it open - from a can - but I didn’t see the glass. Fuck, I didn’t see the glass.”

“You think the Diet Coke had something in it?”

“Yeah, it had to have.”

“Why?”

“Because I drank most of it, and then I started to get a little woozy somehow. Tally is talking and I’m barely following along. I got up, went to the bathroom, came out…and here’s where it all kind of went wrong. Tally wasn’t there. Or at least I didn’t see her. I remember going to the front door - it’s this huge wood door - but it was like I wasn’t really, like in my body?” Charlie’s face contorted as he looked between Mark and Jeannie, a silent plea on his features. “I don’t know, I - I must have made it down the front stairs because the next thing I remember I was face down on the front lawn. And it was wet. And my knees were wet and my face was wet, and I pushed myself up on my knees and - and I threw up everywhere.” Charlie’s face had gone pale. “And then, I must have passed out again, because the next thing I remember, Michelle was standing over me. She’s my friend who’s the Au Pair near the Hartman’s? She found me there and took me inside to her room, and I spent the night there. Then around noon or so, I finally felt sort of normal enough and she drove me home in my car. And she was still at my house when you showed up a few hours later.” 

Both Jeannie and Mark were still. 

“Do you think you may have been drugged?” Jeannie ventured slowly.

“No. No. I think it was booze. There was probably vodka in the glass and I didn’t taste it with the coke.”

“Why booze and not something more?”

“Because I’ve been taking Antabuse for about 18 months now, and I’ve never relapsed, but my reaction fits. Even Dr Goodman thought that may be the case.”

“How did he treat you?” 

“He gave me fluids and B12 - by that point, that’s kind of all you can do, I guess.”

“And you think Tally spiked your drink?” Mark asked, trying to piece it together.

“That’s the only thing I had to drink other than water, and the water I brought from home.”

“Do you think it was intentional? Does she know you’re on Antabuse?”

“Yeah she does.”

“Why would she do that?” Jeannie asked after a few long moments.

“I honestly don’t know.” Charlie’s blue eyes were deep with fear.

TO BE CONTINUED…