Karolina's Twins (41 page)

“Why does that matter?”

Catherine shrugged. “It could come up in the hearing.”

“Maybe four years ago.”

“Never before that? Are you saying that you never told David about the babies until four years ago?”

“That's right. I told you that I wanted to move on and not talk about what happened during the war. It's true that I gave a history to Yad Vashem and I've been involved with survivors' groups, but I never wanted to talk about my personal experiences until I came to you. David and I did not share all of our wartime experiences with each other. It was too painful for each of us. Too personal. David never knew what happened with Rolf. He never knew about my experiences in Auschwitz.”

“But four years ago you brought up Karolina for the first time.”

“I only said that my friend Karolina had twins. David was gone when she gave birth. He asked what happened to them and I told him Karolina abandoned them in a field. Nothing about the train. I told him that I made a promise to try to find them, but that I didn't think it was possible, so I had never tried. That's as much as he ever knew.”

“When we first started our sessions, you told me that David urged you to keep your promise and find Karolina's twins.”

“Did I say that?”

“Yes, it's right in my notes.”

“Well, I don't understand why any of this is very important. I didn't try to do anything for sixty years because I couldn't deal with it. It was all too traumatic. I could not face trying to find a baby that I threw out of a window. I couldn't face the memories of Karolina. Surely you can appreciate that.” She wiped a tear with her fingertips.

Catherine reached over and placed her hand on Lena's shoulder. “Of course, I do. I'm sorry to be so adversarial. I guess it's just my nature as a lawyer.”

Lena stood to leave. “Just knowing that the babies didn't die, that they survived the ordeal and were later adopted, that's really more than I could have ever hoped to learn. You know, I really don't care what happens in court in two weeks. It doesn't matter anymore. You and Liam have fulfilled my promise. The babies lived. Karolina and I, we made the right decision when we threw them into the fields.”

“Who made the decision, Lena? Was it you or Karolina?”

“Oh, it was Karolina. After all, they were her babies.”

 

F
ORTY-EIGHT

W
HEN LIAM RETURNED TO
Chicago, he received a text message from Arthur. It read, “Please meet with me in advance of the court hearing. Just you and me. No lawyers.”

“What do you suppose he wants?” Catherine said.

“No idea. Maybe he would like to pitch a deal.”

“The only deal Lena would accept is a total withdrawal of the petition.”

“I think if that's what he had in mind it wouldn't be necessary to meet. My guess is that he wants financial control, and for that, he'd give up an appointment as guardian of the person.”

Catherine nodded. “Could be. Did you set up a meeting?”

“Not without talking to you.”

“Go ahead. See what he wants.”

*   *   *

I
N A WICKER PARK
coffee shop, Arthur sat alone, his hands around a cup of cappuccino. He stood when Liam walked in.

“Thanks for coming,” Arthur said. “I know there's a lot of animosity between our two offices, but I hope to have a little powwow and smoke a peace pipe, if you know what I mean. I really don't want to hurt my mother.”

“Seriously? Maybe you never read the memo, but filing a petition to declare your mother incompetent isn't going to get you nominated for son of the year.”

“Peace pipe, Liam.”

“What's on your mind, Arthur?”

“Until just a few years ago, my mother and I never had any problems. Until this Karolina thing, we were close, sort of. I mean, as close as you can get to someone who has been through as much as my mother. I know she's telling her life history to Catherine, which was more than she ever did with me, but any person who suffered like my mother has horrors locked up inside her head. She never spoke about the Holocaust with me. Ever. Her trials and hardships were never open to discussion in our home. But I knew they were always present in her memory. Anyone who lives with a survivor knows that.

“A couple of years before my father died, she brought up a story about her childhood friend, Karolina. It came out of the blue. For whatever reason, she started telling us that she needed to honor a promise she made seventy years ago. My father—he loved her and went along with it. He even encouraged her, but before my father died, it was just talk. Now my mother wants to go find them, no matter what the financial or emotional cost.

“This Karolina thing has become a fixation. An obsession. I've talked to psychiatrists. They tell me there's serious psychological risk that emotional damage can occur when the object of someone's fixation turns out to be nothing but thin air. And believe me, this is nothing but thin air. She's living with this obsession. What happens when she finds out it's bogus? Have you thought about that? It would be very bad for her.”

“It's not bogus. The children survived.”

“Right. What are their names today?”

“I don't know yet.”

“Look, even if Karolina's twins were real, she's never going to find them and besides, that doesn't end the case. It's about her obsession. I want to make a deal.”

“It has nothing to do with the money, your inheritance?”

“Fuck, no. I don't need her inheritance. I only care about her well-being. But I don't want her spending all my dad's money or giving it away to some fictitious person or to children she never met.”

“I'm sure.”

“Well, whether you believe me or not really doesn't matter to me. Money squandered on lawyers and investigators to travel around the world chasing rumors and fairy tales in a wild goose chase is one thing. Giving it away to strangers is yet another. If I'm controlling the money, well, you understand.”

“What's your proposition?”

“Appoint me irrevocable guardian of her estate, give me control of her finances, and I'll drop the rest. I won't put her in a home.”

Liam shook his head and stood to leave. “You're an asshole.”

Arthur picked up his check and threw a twenty-dollar bill on the table. “Think about it. We have court in a few days.”

*   *   *

“S
HE'D PROBABLY TAKE THAT
deal, Liam. I don't think she cares about fighting him anymore. She's learned the babies survived and that was the most important thing to her. She knows that a trial would be very hard on her. She doesn't want to give her personal history in an open courtroom. I'm the only one she's ever confided in. I'm afraid she'll refuse to testify. I can't imagine her taking the stand and being cross-examined by Michael Shirley. And as of today, we have no proof of the existence of the twins. What are your thoughts?”

“I know it might make sense to take the deal, but I'd like you to hold off. I'm playing a long shot. I've got something cooking. I'm pretty sure I can come through and it won't be necessary for her to testify.”

“What is it?”

“I'll tell you when I come home tonight. I'm still working on it. Trust me. We still have a few days.”

“Okay.”

“Besides, you're the best ass-kicker I know. Don't sell yourself short. You can probably win this case in your sleep without my help or Lena's testimony.”

“What have you been drinking?”

 

F
ORTY-NINE

J
UDGE PETERSON TOOK HIS
seat at the raised bench and nodded to his clerk. She slammed the wooden gavel three times and announced, “Case number 13 P 6268,
In re: the Guardianship of Lena Woodward
. Cause on trial.”

“Are both sides answering ready for trial?” Judge Peterson said.

Shirley snapped to his feet. “Petitioner is ready, Your Honor.”

“Is respondent ready?”

Catherine stood and looked nervously around the courtroom. She looked at her watch. She looked at the door. “Respondent renews her motion for a short continuance.”

“Denied. Is respondent ready for trial?”

“Very shortly, Your Honor. Can we start tomorrow?”

“No.”

“This afternoon?”

“No.”

Catherine reluctantly nodded. “Then respondent is ready.” Catherine kept turning her head to check the door. Liam had promised he'd get there before the trial started, but he'd had a stop to make. He'd told her to stall.

“Your Honor,” Catherine said. “Before we commence testimony this morning, we've received an offer from the petitioner which we would like to discuss. May we have a one-hour break to negotiate?”

“No. Discussions are over. You've had months to do your negotiations. Mr. Shirley, call your first witness.”

Catherine remained standing. “Your Honor, may I have a short break to use the ladies' room. As you can see, I'm very pregnant.” She smiled.

Peterson sighed loudly. “Five minutes. And then we're starting.”

Lena leaned over and whispered, “Catherine, what's going on?”

“You'll find out. I hope.”

Ten minutes later, Catherine returned to the courtroom and took her seat. Still no Liam. Judge Peterson said, “Finally. Mr. Shirley, call your first witness.”

“Petitioner calls Mr. Arthur Woodward to the stand.”

Arthur stood, looked at Catherine and Lena, shook his head, and walked to the witness stand. He swore to tell the truth and sat straight and confident. Shirley led him through a brief history of his childhood and his relationship with his mother and father. Then, after fifteen minutes, he got to the heart of the matter.

“It all began four years ago,” Arthur said. “She started having these visions of someone named Karolina. I'd never heard about her before. My mother would cry. She'd tell my father that Karolina's babies are gone, someone needs to find them. She kept saying, ‘I need to go to Poland and find Karolina's babies.' Babies, Your Honor, who would now be in their seventies, if they were still alive and if they ever existed. But she still calls them babies.”

Arthur continued. “After my father died, it became all-consuming. She'd sit in front of the cocktail table with maps of Poland spread out everywhere. Travel brochures. Train schedules. She'd send away for information on train travel in the 1940s. She had shelves and shelves filled with GPS photos of farmland and railroad tracks. She didn't seem to want to do anything but focus on this obsession.”

Lena's eyes were tearing and she sat with her handkerchief, dabbing her eyes. “I can't do this,” she mumbled.

“I'd come over at night to see my mother and she'd be staring at her computer, trying to find out about people in little cities in Poland and Germany. She searched online archives and printed out small-town European newspaper clippings from the late forties. I'd tell her to give up on it. Move on. We'd have shouting matches where she'd tell me to mind my own business. I'd tell her, ‘This
is
my business. Do you know how ridiculous you are, looking at a computer to find people who don't exist, who don't—”

“Stop!” Lena shouted, jumping to her feet and banging her fist on the table. “Stop this hearing! Stop it right now! I concede. Give him whatever he wants. I'll hear no more of this.”

Catherine stood, put her hands on Lena's shoulders and tried to calm her. “Don't do this, Lena,” she whispered. “Let's be patient. Liam told us to wait. Besides, we didn't get the chance to tell our side of the story yet. If it comes down to it, I think I can win this hearing.”

“It's over, Catherine. I can't fight anymore. I can't endure this and I won't testify. I will not get on that witness stand.”

“Your Honor, may we have a short recess? As you can see, my client is very upset.”

“Request denied. Does Mrs. Woodward wish to admit the allegations of the petition? Does she now agree to judgment in favor of the petitioner?”

“She does not!” yelled Liam from the back of the courtroom. “Lena, don't say another word. Catherine, I need to see you immediately.”

Catherine turned to the judge. “I'm very sorry, Your Honor, but my investigator has just arrived with information that will bear on the balance of this trial. I need a few minutes, please.”

Judge Peterson shook his head. “There's a witness on the stand. Your client has just confessed judgment on the pleadings…”

“Your Honor, just a quick moment, please? Let the record show that you were fair. If my investigator has nothing, then I won't stand in Lena's way and the case will be over. But I have the feeling that Mr. Taggart has brought us very important information that will change the course of this hearing.”

“I most strenuously object,” Shirley said.

“I weary of all this drama, Ms. Lockhart,” Judge Peterson said. “It better be good. The court will allow you a fifteen-minute recess.”

Liam turned and left the courtroom.

“What the hell is this all about?” Arthur said. “Another showboat tactic, Ms. Lockhart? Putting off the inevitable? You heard my mother. She concedes.”

Catherine leaned over and whispered, “Lena, come with me.”

Tears rolled out of Lena's eyes and dropped onto the courtroom table. She shook her head. “Let's just get this over with.”

“Not yet. Come with me.”

Catherine handed Lena her cane and helped her to her feet. They slowly walked toward the courtroom door.

“Fifteen minutes,” Arthur yelled. “After that, I'm calling the shots. No more Lockhart. No more Karolina.”

Lena and Catherine walked into the hall and toward Liam, who stood by the windows with two women. Catherine looked at them and smiled broadly. The women were tall, poised and stylishly dressed. They smiled warmly at Lena.