Lindsey had seemed to be holding something over Jack’s head from the day they’d met, her underlying accusation that both Jack and Jessie had decided to give up Brian because of his hearing impairment. Even though Jack hadn’t even known about the baby, let alone his deafness, Lindsey’s words were beginning to feel like a spot on his soul. Maybe it was the reason Jessie had decided not to tell him about the baby. Could she have thought he was so utterly shallow that he wouldn’t have wanted any part of a child who was less than perfect? There was one way to rule out the possibility.
Jack met Jan Wackenhut in the hospital cafeteria on her lunch break. She was the head of the speech pathology and audiology department. Jack had gotten her name through a friend who, of course, couldn’t help adding that Jan was a lively brunette and a terrific dancer. Jack got a lot of that from do-gooders who couldn’t wait for him to rejoin the Married Farts Club, but this was all business. They sat on opposite sides of a little round table in the corner. Jack had an ice tea, and Jan picked at a small wedge of quiche as they spoke.
“When did you say the child was born?” asked Jan.
“Ten years ago.”
She guzzled some ice water, dousing an overnuked piece of broccoli that had apparently set her mouth on fire.
“I can tell you this,” she said. “We do screen infants for hearing loss here at this hospital. But that wasn’t the case at most hospitals in the country ten years ago. In fact, it’s only been in the last two or three years that infant screening has caught on. I read something not long ago that said only twenty percent of newborns were tested as recently as 1999.”
“So, ten years ago, it’s unlikely that my friend would have discovered that her newborn was born deaf and then decided to give him up for adoption.”
“Highly unlikely. Especially when you consider that most women make the decision to give up their child for adoption long before delivery. Your friend would have to have known that the baby was deaf before it was even born.”
“Is that possible?” said Jack.
“Not really.”
“What about prenatal testing?”
“How old was your friend when she gave birth?
“Young. Early twenties.”
“At that age, she probably would have had only ultrasound, which is limited to identifying problems of a physical or structural nature. It can’t detect problems of function-mental retardation, blindness, deafness. It can’t detect chromosome abnormalities either, like Down syndrome, which can sometimes be accompanied by problems like deafness.”
“What if she had some more extensive testing?”
“Even amniocentisis and CVS test for a specific number of chromosome, biochemical, and structural disorders. Deafness, blindness, and even some heart defects and some types of mental retardation just aren’t picked up through prenatal testing. And even if you could test for deafness, you’d have to be looking for it to detect it. You can’t just blanket test for every conceivable defect known to medical science. Not yet, anyway-and definitely not ten years ago.”
Jan finished off the rest of her quiche in three quick bites. “Time to get back to work,” she said.
“Ditto,” said Jack. He thanked her, then started down the long maze of freezing-cold hallways that eventually led him to the hospital exit and the parking garage. He wasted about five minutes looking for his Mustang, a mental lapse that ended with the realization that his car was gone for good and that he was driving a crappy rental.
As he climbed behind the wheel and switched on the A/C, he wasn’t thinking about his car, his old girlfriend, or even Brian. He was thinking about Lindsey, how the mother of a deaf child probably should have known that deafness couldn’t be detected through prenatal testing, and that ten years ago a newborn probably wouldn’t have been screened.
Yet, she’d still looked him in the eye and accused him and Jessie of dumping their baby because he was less than perfect.
He felt a rush of bitterness toward Lindsey, but he pushed it aside. His heart was pounding. Jessie’d been gone such a long time. But somehow he hoped she could hear him nonetheless.
I’m so sorry, Jessie. I’m sorry I let myself think that about you.
At ten minutes past three Jack was surrounded by any number of women who could have kicked his ass. Fortunately, most of them were behind bars.
Jack and Sofia had a trial-strategy meeting with Lindsey at the detention center. He cleared security at the visitors’ entrance, then passed through the main visitation area. It was one of the most depressing sights he’d ever seen on such a beautiful Saturday afternoon, a great day for the beach, the park, maybe a little barbecue with friends in the backyard. Teary-eyed wives slow-danced with their husbands, the music playing only in their heads. Mothers in prison garb hugged daughters in pigtails. Little boys giggled at the sound of a mother’s voice, a sound less familiar with each passing month. Jack felt a tinge of sadness for Brian, thinking that someday he might have to come here to visit his mother. Then he felt the same sadness for Lindsey, realizing that Brian wasn’t here today, right this very minute, because his grandparents had already convicted her and wouldn’t allow him to visit.
Jack entered a quieter area that was reserved for attorney-client meetings. Sofia was waiting for him in Room B, but their client had not yet arrived.
“Lindsey on her way down?” said Jack.
“Actually, I just sent her back to her cell. We had a long talk.”
“Without me?”
“Yes. You and I need to talk.”
She invited him to sit with a wave of her hand, but Jack remained standing. You and I need to talk. Never in his life had he heard a woman utter those words and then follow up with good news. “What’s going on here?” said Jack. “Why did you and Lindsey meet without me?”
“She’s coming back, so cool down, okay? The three of us will have our full session together. But there was one thing she needed to speak to a woman about. It’s nothing personal against you. There are certain things a woman can’t say in front of a man. Even if the man is her lawyer.”
“You gonna tell me what’s going on, or do I have to guess?”
“It’s about the Cuban soldier.”
“The Cuban?” Jack said, incredulous. “How does that not involve me?”
“It does, and we’ll talk more about it when Lindsey comes back. There’s just an aspect of his testimony that’s-well, frankly, highly embarrassing for Lindsey. So she and I talked it out first.”
“Obviously you mean the part about her and Lieutenant Johnson in the bedroom.”
“Obviously.”
Jack laid his briefcase on the table and pulled up a chair. “There’s no way around the embarrassing parts. If we call the Cuban to the stand, he’s going to give us the good and the bad.”
“Lindsey understands that. And, frankly, I don’t see it as all that bad.”
“You don’t?”
“No. I’ve been watching that jury carefully. I see how they’ve been looking at Lindsey ever since that fertility doctor shared his assassin sperm theory. There is no doubt in my mind that every single one of those jurors has already labeled Lindsey an adulteress.”
“I can’t argue with that,” said Jack. “But we certainly run the risk of reinforcing that impression by calling the Cuban soldier to the stand.”
“That was my fear, too. Before I had this little talk with Lindsey.”
“You think differently now, do you?”
“I do. I think the Cuban soldier may be the only way to prove that Lindsey isn’t lying when she says she wasn’t having an affair.”
“Excuse me? The Cuban saw her having sex with Lieutenant Johnson. Going at it like porn stars, I think were his exact words.”
“Things aren’t always what they appear,” said Sofia.
“Ah, yes. I see your point. It must have been one of those newfangled CPR classes. Groin-to-groin
