take drugs, though he used them to sell the stuff. He
was interesting from a psychological standpoint because the control he exerted over his girls was paternal,
rather than intimidating or enabling. He was creating a
familial bond between himself and the prostitutes. Almost all of them had had no father figure in their lives,
or if they did, he was abusive. Big Daddy never had intercourse with the girls. He protected them and made
sure they were checked out for disease. He acted like a
real father, which was all the more intriguing because
he was only in his twenties and had a large brood of
children of his own. This was one of the first case studies that showed how young people got caught up in
gangs and prostitution rings. It emphasized how the
gang provides a surrogate family and a sense of belonging.”
“What happened to Dumas?” Judith asked. “Morris
Mayne told me he was dead.”
Bill nodded. “I suppose Morris knows the story,
being based in L.A. Dumas was quite a legend there
for almost ten years. One of his girls killed him. He
was also involved in the local music scene, though
whether with promoting talent or just peddling drugs
and sex, I can’t recall. This particular girl, who was
from Mexico, felt Dumas could help her get started as
a singer for the Hispanic audience. He couldn’t or
wouldn’t, so she stabbed him in a fit of rage, claiming
he’d betrayed their family bond.”
“A father-daughter quarrel,” Judith remarked.
“Speaking of children,” Bill said, starting up the
steps, “I’d better join mine before Renie and our kids
eat all the food.”
Judith watched Bill disappear at the top of the staircase, then resumed her place at the bar. The glimmer of
an idea was forming at the back of her brain.
Charles cleared his throat. “Will you be rejoining
your party upstairs?”
“Ah . . .” Judith paused to take a quick sip from her
glass. “Yes, in a few minutes. I had to get away.”
“Oh?” Charles tried to hide his puzzlement.
“I mean, I know I just got here,” Judith explained,
“but those people can be very . . . difficult.”
“The Joneses?” Charles inquired politely.
“Yes, the Joneses.” Judith smiled confidentially.
“They’re relatives, you see.”
“Yes,” Charles agreed tactfully. “Sometimes family
members can be taxing.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll finish my drink down here,”
Judith said, wondering if she should call a taxi and go
home. Renie and Bill would be stuck with the future
in-laws for at least an hour or two.
