Juvenile Delinquent Read Online Free Page B

volunteering some evenings, but of course you’d want to work in the daytime.”
    Then she brightened. “At least I can give you a briefing on the neighborhood before you go down. I’m only going to drop in on Joe for a minute, because my lunch period is practically over. Why don’t you wait and I’ll give you a travelogue as you drive me back to my office.”
    I hadn’t contemplated going anywhere near the welfare office, but she put it in such a way I couldn’t very well refuse without being blunt. I said I’d wait a few minutes.
    Meantime Hannegan had been standing quietly to one side all this time, his only sign of impatience being the steady jingling of the lockup keys. Now Sara gave me a brisk nod of temporary dismissal and informed Hannegan with equal briskness that she was ready to see her nephew.
    I grinned slightly as I watched them walk down the hall together, for Sara seemed to be throwing a barrage of questions at the stocky lieutenant. She was in for a frustrating experience, I thought, for if she got anything more informative than an occasional grunt from the taciturn Hannegan, she was a better interviewer than anyone I’d ever known.

4
    S ARA C HESTERTON only made me wait about five minutes. She came hurrying back out into the lobby, not even waiting for Hannegan, but calling back over her shoulder, “Thanks, Lieutenant.”
    As she joined me she glanced at her watch and said, “After one-thirty. And my lunch hour’s supposed to be twelve-thirty to one-thirty. I should be at the office now.”
    I didn’t say anything until we were in the car. Then I said, “You don’t punch a time clock, do you?”
    “No. Our evaluation reports are based mainly on the number of cases we reinvestigate each month. It’s about the only way the office can judge whether or not we’re actually putting in full days, because half our work is in the field. I visit every morning and do my office work in the afternoons. Some workers do it the other way. We’re pretty free to set our own schedules so long as we produce an adequate amount of work. Nobody says anything if I walk in late, but my phone hour is one-thirty to two-thirty. That is, I’m supposed to be available for calls from clients then. We have to set a definite period, or we’d do nothing but answer the phone.”
    “You get that many calls?”
    “A dozen to two dozen daily. My caseload runs over two hundred, and they’re always requesting special services in addition to their relief checks. Things like coal, or clothing or carfare to go to the clinic.”
    It was only a ten-minute drive from police headquarters to the building housing Public Welfare, and with Sara chattering about her job, we didn’t even get to the subject of the briefing she had proposed. When I stopped in front, she looked at me in consternation.
    “I forgot completely why I’d suggested you run me over here, Manny. I’m a complete dolt!”
    “It doesn’t matter, Sara.”
    “But it does. I really know that neighborhood thoroughly. I’ve been working in the district for eight years. I’m sure I could give you a lot of helpful information.” Her smooth forehead furrowed in a frown. “Listen, I have to get in to my phone, but why don’t you come in too? I can never get any other work done during my phone hour anyway. Between calls we can talk.”
    This seemed a reasonable suggestion, so I climbed out of the car too. Quickly she led me through a broad front entrance into a wide but plain lobby. Benches along the walls contained a number of waiting people whose shabby dress indicated they were probably relief clients. Behind a long counter to one side of the room three women workers were helping clients fill out forms.
    As we went by this counter Sara gestured toward it and said, “Intake. I get stuck for a week there every summer when the regular Intake girls go on vacation. Not that I mind too much. It’s kind of dull, but it’s a change from my usual routine.”
    We