'But what happened to the old books, the ones from twenty years ago?'
The nurse smiled. 'Are you in one of those books?' Abby nodded. 'Well, come on then,' the nurse said. 'I wouldn't let them throw those books away. I'm Evelyn,' she said, taking Abby by the hand. 'When were you here, child?'
Abby told her as Evelyn led them past the nursery where the newborn babies were on display, Mason following a few steps back, feeling like a stranger in a strange land, sensing again the depth of Abby's longing. They stopped at a linen closet filled with sheets and towels, except for three shelves that were lined with alternating pink and blue three-ring binders, each dated for the years they covered. Evelyn and Mason stood aside as Abby traced her finger along the binders, stopping at the one she was searching for, yanking it off the shelf.
Sitting cross-legged on the hallway floor, with Mason crouched next to her, Abby flipped through the pages, checking the date at the top of each page. Each page was divided into columns for the mother's signature, the date of admission, the date of the baby's birth, the sex, weight, and length of the baby, and the baby's name.
'Yes! There I am!' she said, jabbing the page with her finger.
Mason followed her finger across the line that began with Abby's signature, continued with the entries for the birth of a seven-pound baby girl, twenty-one inches long, and ended with a blank space for the baby's name.
'There's no name,' Mason said, looking up at the nurse.
'Did you give your baby up for adoption?' Evelyn asked Abby. Abby, tears brimming, nodded. 'That's why. Sometimes a birth mother didn't name her baby. It made it a little easier for some of the girls.'
Abby stood, the binder sliding from her lap onto the floor, and walked back toward the nursery. Mason picked up the binder, found the pages for the two weeks before and after Abby's entries, and handed Evelyn the notebook. 'Could you make copies of these pages for me?'
'Of course,' Evelyn said.
Mason joined Abby at the nursery window, standing behind her, his hands on her shoulders. Abby pressed her hands against the glass, reaching for the babies more than waving at them. A nurse cradling one of the newborns in her arms smiled broadly and mouthed which one to Abby and Mason. Abby shook her head. Evelyn found them a few minutes later, handing Mason the copies. Mason thanked her, tugging gently at Abby's sleeve.
'It's time to go,' he said.
Abby held onto Mason's arm, letting him lead her, blinking her eyes when they emerged from the hospital. The city was wrapped in a gauzy haze reflecting sunlight in a filtered glare, the day not sunny or cloudy, the uncomfortable ambiguity matching her confusion and disappointment.
Mason found a walkway that led around the hospital grounds, following it to a bench in a garden alongside a small fishpond. The flowers had been trimmed back for fall. Burnt orange leaves shed by the surrounding oaks floated on the surface of the pond, their tips upturned, like miniature junks. The air was crisp, a solidly autumn day.
Abby sat on the bench, her arms folded, rocking slightly. Mason studied Jordan's medical records and the pages from the Baby Books, letting Abby find her voice. The medical records were devoid of anything that identified Jordan's natural parents, reporting her birth and first days of life in neutral medical tones. The last page of the records was a copy of an order from the Family Court Division of the City of St. Louis Circuit Court granting Arthur and Carol Hackett custody of Jordan Hackett, the order noting that the unnamed natural parents had waived their parental rights.
Mason read every entry in the Baby Book. There were several others where the space for the baby's name had been left blank, a hole in the mother's history filled without the mother's knowledge by strangers.
'How could they have lost my records?' Abby asked at last.
'It's a big place. It's been a long time,' Mason said, reciting the obvious excuses. 'I'll tell you something else that's missing,' he said.
'What?'
'Gina Davenport's signature in the Baby Book. The nurse gave me copies of the pages for the two weeks before and after you were there. Emily Davenport was born one week before your baby and Jordan were born. Either she didn't sign in, or she wasn't there.'
'That's not possible,' Abby said, sitting up and shaking off her funk. 'Every mother signed the book. It was a ritual.'
'Not Gina,' Mason said.
Abby grabbed the pages from the Baby Book, studying each entry. Mason tried to tie the loose ends of Abby's missing medical records to Gina's missing Baby Book entry, but the knot kept unraveling. His cell phone rang, saving him from another attempt.
'Mason,' he answered.
'Lou, it's Harry. Where are you?'
'Caulfield Medical Center in St. Louis. We talked to Abby's uncle. He sold Abby's baby, but claims he doesn't know who the buyer was. He's been marinated in booze so long, it's a miracle he remembers his name. We didn't do much better at the hospital. I hope you've come up with something.'
'Your hunch about Robert Davenport was half right,' Harry said.
'Which half?' Mason asked.
'The half about Davenport getting busted. It happened when he was living in St. Louis.'
'Which half was wrong?'
'There's no connection to Centurion Johnson.'
'I wouldn't have expected one in St. Louis. Centurion always stayed close to home,' Mason said.
'There's still another half,' Harry said. 'Davenport was busted along with a few other guys. It was strictly small-time stuff, nickle-and-dime bags, but you'll be interested in who one of the other guys was.'
'Harry, don't make me beg.'
'Habit,' Harry said. 'It was Terry Nix.'
'Do not shit me, Harry,' Mason said, 'or I'll tell Claire to put saltpeter in your warm milk.'
'I shit you not,' Harry said. 'The charges were thrown out because of a problem with the search. I tracked down one of the arresting cops. Turns out we know some of the same guys. His name is Roy Bowen. He used to work narcotics, undercover. Now he's behind a desk. Said he'd be glad to talk to you.'
'Where do we find him?' Mason asked.
'Where do you think?' Harry asked.
'Krispy Kreme?' Mason said.
'Very funny,' Harry answered. 'Turn yourself in at noon, downtown.'
Chapter 27
'We've got three hours to kill before we meet Roy Bowen,' Mason said, 'and we're not spending it on this bench. Come on.'
Abby said, 'I'm not in the mood for sightseeing.'
'And I'm not coming to your pity party,' Mason told her. Abby's face fell, Mason cupping her chin in his hand. 'I need your help,' he told her. 'I need you in the game, not on the bench feeling sorry for yourself.'
Abby held his wrist, nodding her head. 'Okay. What's next.'
'Vital records,' he said. 'Another bureaucratic adventure. Emily's birth certificate will say where she was born. I want a copy. Might as well get one for Jordan while we're there.'
An hour later, they were sitting in a Starbucks in downtown St. Louis, the birth certificates, medical records, and Baby Book entries spread in front of them, alongside a copy of the St. Louis Post Dispatch. Mason didn't like the taste of coffee, but he did like the smell. The double latte Abby ordered revived her.
'Emily's birth certificate confirms she was born at Caulfield and that Gina and Robert Davenport were her parents,' Abby said.
'Gina just didn't sign the Baby Book, that's all,' Mason said. 'We can't check her medical records without an authorization or a subpoena, and the hospital would fight a subpoena.'
'Why?' Abby asked. 'She's dead. What do they care?'
