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September 1941
The baby's fussing woke Ellen and she was out of bed before he could work himself into full-fledged crying. She did not want him to wake the others in the house. Smiling, she murmured comfortingly to him as she changed his diaper. After wrapping him securely in a blanket, she scooped him up and held him against her shoulder, patting him as she walked downstairs to the kitchen where she took a milk bottle from the icebox and set it on the stove in a pan of water. Grinning, she congratulated herself on how expert she had become at doing things with one hand while holding the child in the other. He had only been home for three weeks, but she couldn't remember how it was without him.
He was small for his age, having been born prematurely. However, he was doing so well Ellen was confident he would catch up and by the time he was old enough to start school, no one would know he had been a preemie. She carried the baby and the warm bottle of milk back up to her room and settled in the rocking chair to feed him. First, she held him close and nuzzled his neck, inhaling his sweet baby scent. He was hungry, though, and not as interested in her adoration as he was in food and he began to fuss vigorously.
“All right, all right,” she whispered. “Here’s your bottle, you greedy little man.”
In the end, it had all been so easy. She did not know why she hadn’t thought of it from the beginning. She called the hospital with the “family emergency” she had already planned to use. She took a few weeks of leave and then returned to work. Three weeks ago, she brought the baby home, not saying anything to Mrs. Appleton beforehand. The fussy landlady was outraged at first, having a very strict policy against children in her boarding house. But Ellen told her that her cousin... a young widow... had died in childbirth, and being so close while growing up, before she died the cousin had begged Ellen to raise her baby.
Mrs. Appleton, who had never had children of her own, was soon won over by the tragic story and the sweet-natured baby boy. She not only allowed Ellen to stay with the baby, but she offered to babysit while Ellen worked. Ellen was exhausted and she hated being away from him, sometimes for 48 hours, but she held onto the thought that her residency was almost over. She would be able to get her medical license and take one of the job offers that were coming in.
Knowing that her family would eventually hear that she suddenly had a baby, Ellen had sent them a long letter, telling a slightly different version of the story she told Mrs. Appleton. She told them the baby’s mother was poor and unable to care for him, and had begged Ellen to raise him. She assured her parents that she knew what she was doing and that they would fall in love with the baby just as she had. Her mother sent a letter filled with concern in response, but she pledged the family’s support.
The baby finished the bottle and promptly fell asleep, not waking when she put him on her shoulder to burp him. Ellen rocked him for several minutes, relishing the heavy warmth of him against her. Finally, she kissed him and put him back in the bassinet that Mrs. Appleton had borrowed from a niece whose baby had outgrown it. Crawling back into bed, Ellen drifted back to sleep.
Her one sorrow was that she could not be with Abraham. She had not been to his apartment since bringing the baby home. They felt that making the trip to Watts with a baby in tow would attract too much attention. Her only comfort was that even if she could not live with him, she would at least be near him. Of the job offers that had come in, two were from doctors in Watts. They would not pay much, but Ellen didn’t care. She would have her baby and they would at least be in the same neighborhood as Abraham. They would find a way to be together. It would be enough. Ellen was determined that it would work.
She did not have to work the next day, but sleeping in was not an option with a baby in the house. After feeding him, she took him downstairs and helped Mrs. Appleton prepare breakfast for the boarders. Ellen gave him a bath and another bottle before his morning nap. When he woke up, she bundled him up and tucked him into the baby buggy, another loan from Mrs. Appleton’s niece, and headed outside for a walk.
It was mid-September, but the weather still felt like summer. Ellen smiled and breathed deeply, pushing the buggy down the front walk. A car pulled up along the curb and stopped. Two men in suits got out and Ellen stopped as they approached her.
“Ellen Goodman,” one of the men asked.
“Yes,” Ellen said uncertainly.
He was short and heavy-set, what was left of his hair was brown and formed a wispy crown around the bald top. His eyes were hazel and his face world-weary. He reached into the pocket of a cheap brown suit jacket and pulled out a badge.
“I’m Detective Campbell and this is my partner, Detective Powell. We are with the Los Angeles Police Department.”
Detective Powell was a good 10 years younger, at least 20 lighter, and six inches taller than his partner. Dark hair and blue eyes set off a face with the eager look of someone in training.
“What can I do for you, Detectives?”
“We’d like you to come to the station and answer a few questions.”
“Questions? About what?”
Campbell gestured toward the baby waving his arms inside the buggy. “About the baby.”
Thirty minutes later, Ellen sat in a small windowless room inside the police station. She held the baby on her lap and watched Detective Campbell nervously as he flipped through a folder of papers. The door opened and a young woman with dark hair and brown eyes entered. She was dressed in a female version of the police uniform, with jacket and skirt. The detective looked up from the folder.
“Ah, Miss Jones, thank you.” To Ellen he said, “Miss Jones is one of our clerks here. She is going to take the baby and watch him while we talk.”
“I don’t know,” Ellen said doubtfully, looking from one to the other. “He was premature and I don’t like for him to be around too many people... because of the germs.”
“Oh, I’m sure he will be just fine. Miss Jones will take good care of him, and she’ll keep him away from everyone. I just want to be able to talk uninterrupted.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “I know how little ones can disrupt a conversation.”
Ellen reluctantly let the woman take him and watched as she walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. Ellen turned back to the detective.
“What's this all about?”
“Well, it’s about the baby, actually. Now, you didn’t actually give birth to him, did you Miss Goodman?” He paused for a just a moment and added, “It is Miss, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Ellen said, flushing. “It is Miss. And no, I did not give birth to him. Why do you ask?”
“Then where is his mother?”
“I’m his mother now.”
Detective Campbell held her gaze, all friendliness gone from his manner.
“Where is the woman who gave birth to him?”
Ellen lifted her chin, refusing to be the first to look away.
“I don’t know.”
“Do you mind telling me how you came to have that baby, then?”
“She couldn’t take care of him, so I'm caring for him.”
“Why couldn’t she take care of him?”
“Why are you asking all these questions?”
“Why couldn’t the mother take care of him?”
Ellen looked down at her lap, then back up at the detective.
“If you must know, Detective, she's a prostitute and a drug addict. She knew she wasn’t in any shape to take care of him and asked me to.”
“But you’ve been telling people that you work with that he is the son of your dead cousin.”
She colored, but looked at him steadily.
“I was thinking of when he gets older. Which story will sound better to his little schoolmates... his poor mother died and he is being raised by her cousin, or his mother was a prostitute who gave him away? And frankly, I thought it would be easier for me to keep him if he were a relative. I didn’t want him put into the Child Welfare system.”
“I see... and did she tell you who the father is?”
“No... I don’t think she knew.”
“But she asked you to take the baby herself? How did you meet her?”
“At the hospital...the county hospital. I’m an intern there and she gave birth to him prematurely. I met her there and then I went to check on her and the baby in her apartment after they were released.”
“And she just gave you the baby?”
“No... but she did ask me if I would take him. I told her I would have to think about it. After all, I’m about to finish my internship and then I'll be going to work somewhere for a doctor or a hospital. I needed to think about the responsibility of taking on raising a baby.”
“So when did she give you the baby?”
“A few days later.”
“She brought him to you herself?”
“No.” Ellen shifted in the uncomfortable chair. She knew the detective was waiting for her to elaborate, but she didn’t.
Finally, he asked, “How did you get the baby?”
“She... she had a friend bring him to me at the hospital.”
“And was the prostitute’s name Charmaine Tyree?”
Ellen froze and stared at him.
“How did you know that?”
“Because Miss Tyree was found dead.”
“What?!”
“She was murdered. She was stabbed numerous times and then her body dumped in the Santa Monica hills.
“Oh, that’s horrible! Charmaine was murdered?”
“Yes, she was. Now... do you know a colored man named Abraham Moss?”
“Wh..what?”
“Do you know Abraham Moss?”
“Well... yes... he’s a janitor at the hospital.”
“Is he the ‘friend’ of Miss Tyree’s who brought the baby to you?” Ellen hesitated and he prompted her, “Miss Goodman?”
“I... why does it matter?”
“Did Abraham Moss bring the baby to you?”
“Y..yes. Yes, he did.”
“And Miss Tyree never told you who the father of the baby was?”
“No. I told you... I don’t think she knew.”
“Is it possible that Abraham Moss is the father?”
“Abraham,” she said faintly. “Wh..why would you ask about him?”
“Because this morning Abraham Moss confessed to murdering Charmaine Tyree.”