darling hasn’t said a peep. The word is that his parents were killed in a mass murder.”
“So far it appears only the mother was killed,” Ben said, hoping it would remain true. “The father is missing. How is he doing?”
“Fine, considering what he’s been through. He was dehydrated when he came into the ER, but that’s been rectified. His electrolytes are now normal, and he’s eating and drinking. But he’s so quiet and hardly moves. He just stares at you with these huge, dark eyes. I’d like to have him say something, even cry.”
“I want to take a peek at him.”
“I’m afraid we can’t allow that, but you can speak with the police officer who’s here to guard him.”
Ben did just that. After the guard looked at Ben’s ID and looked at a list of doctors who had access, he was reluctant to let Ben in until Ben suggested Detective Janow be called. That was all it took, and Ben was escorted in by Sheila.
As Sheila described, Shigeru was lying motionlessly on his back in the crib with his eyes wide open. His eyes followed Ben as he came alongside the crib.
“Hey, big guy!” Ben said as he reached out and gently pinched the child’s skin on his upper arm. After releasing it, Ben could see the skin immediately pop back into its original position, something that hadn’t happened when Ben had gotten him out to the Range Rover. It was a crude but reliable test for dehydration. “Are they treating you okay here?” Ben twisted around the IV bottle to see what he was getting.
Ben and Sheila looked at each other in surprise.
“What was that?” Ben questioned.
“I have no idea.”
“It must be Japanese.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Sheila said. “But hallelujah, he’s said something. He must recognize you.”
“Must be just from earlier today. Prior to today I’d seen him a couple of times, and then only briefly. But it’s a good sign. If the father doesn’t appear soon, apparently I’m going to be the guardian.”
“Really?” Sheila questioned. “We had no idea.”
“I told it to the EMT,” Ben said. “I even told the EMT the kid’s name. It’s Shigeru Machita.”
“I think you’d better talk with the social worker on the case.”
“Of course,” Ben said. He glanced at his watch. He didn’t have a lot of time, since he’d committed himself to return to the city, but he thought it important to straighten out the identity and insurance issues.
While Sheila went to get the social worker, Ben stayed in Shigeru’s room and tried to get the infant to say another word or respond to gentle tickling. Although he did not utter another word, he was physically responsive to the tickling.
Five minutes later Sheila returned with a tall, attractive Hispanic woman. She wore a blue silk dress beneath her long white coat. Her name, of course, was Maria, with a family name of Sanchez.
Sheila had done the introductions, and as soon as they’d been completed, Maria suggested that they talk in the nurses’ lounge behind the nurses’ desk. She had the demeanor of a savvy business-woman who took her job seriously.
“Sheila mentioned that you had told the EMT the child’s name and the fact that you were the guardian,” Maria said as soon as they were seated and cut off from the bustle of the floor.
“I told him the name of the child and that after the father’s will was probated I would possibly be the guardian. That is, of course, if the father is also dead, as feared. I’m really surprised there was such a lack of communication.”
“The emergency room is a busy place.”
“We’re sorry your communication to the EMT did not get properly relayed. Be that as it may, what is your relationship to the child?”
With a somewhat hardened tone, Ben said, “I was or still am, again depending on the status of the father, his employer.”
“Is there some question as to the status of the father? We were told the child’s parents were both murdered.”
“The mother was, but not the father. The father’s whereabouts is not yet known, although there are some who believe he, too, is dead.”
“Why do you believe you will be the guardian?”
For a moment Ben paused, wondering why he was bothering to answer all these questions. Maybe he should just go to the office and bring back Satoshi’s will. But then he remembered it needed to be probated.
“Did you hear my question?”
“I did, but I’m beginning to feel this is akin to an interrogation, which I find inappropriate.”
“Why didn’t you come in with the child rather than showing up later?”
“It wasn’t my choice. I was detained by the police after I had inadvertently stumbled on the murder victims. I found the child hidden in the house.”
“Well, let me inform you what has gone on here at the hospital in your absence. With no name and no information, I contacted a social worker at DYFS, the Division of Youth and Family Services, here in New Jersey, which is under the Department of Children and Families. She went immediately to one of the DYFS lawyers, who, in turn, went to family court and got DYFS appointed temporary guardian so we would be able to treat the child beyond emergency care. So far it hasn’t been needed. But DYFS is now the guardian. That’s a fact you’ll have to live with.”
“What if I produce the will and the DYFS lawyer can look at it.”
“It wouldn’t matter. The DYFS lawyer cannot change the ruling, only family court, and you couldn’t take the will to family court because it is not probated. And since you don’t know the father’s whereabouts or state of health, you can’t go to probate court. For now you are stuck with DYFS as the temporary guardian.”
Ben was mildly overwhelmed.
“Let me ask you another question,” Maria said when Ben failed to respond. “This child is obviously Japanese, or at least of Asian ancestry, and Sheila said he’d spoken when you arrived, but it wasn’t English. Is he an American citizen?”
“No, he’s Japanese,” Ben said.
“Well, that makes it even more difficult, at least in my experience. In a case like this you cannot take anything for granted. A probate judge will decide the issues, not necessarily on what any documents say but on what he believes is in the best interest of the child.”
“Oh,” Ben said simply as a new wave of concern spread over him. Up until that very moment he still thought the licensing-agreement situation was safe and shielded from change. But now, suddenly, he was learning from a woman with experience in the arena of family law and probate that the licensing agreement’s circumstance was not cast in stone but rather open to the interpretation of what was in the best interest of the child. Even Ben had to accept it would be difficult to justify his role as a trustee of the entity that owned the iPS patents when he was also CEO of iPS USA. It was a huge conflict of interest. And now Ben had to deal with the possibility of iPS USA losing its control of the Satoshi patents. Before visiting the hospital he’d been confident he was destined to be both guardian and trustee for Shigeru. Now there was the possibility he would be neither.
Ben exited FDR Drive at 34th Street and continued south on Second Avenue. The closer he got to OCME, the more unnerved he felt about everything: having to return for further questions from the Bergen County police detective, the chance that there might be changes in the key exclusive iPS licensing agreement, and that he was about to identify Satoshi’s body. For a few blocks he considered the idea of not identifying Satoshi even if it was him but abandoned the idea as it would just postpone the inevitable—and direct significant suspicion in his direction. Ben realized his only hope was to avoid any suspicion of involvement at all, and to do that he had to remain cooperative.
