The Abortionist's Daughter (21 page)

“Let it not be said that the law enforcement officers in this town are not prompt,” he said cheerfully.

“How was Costa Rica?” asked Ernie.

“Stupendous,” said Steven. “Although traveling with teenagers has its own challenges. Please, sit down. When we flew in last night,” he began, lowering himself into a deep leather chair, “I was hoping I’d wake up this morning and read in the papers that you’d made an arrest. Tell me where things stand. How can I help?”

Huck reminded himself that Steven was an orator, and orators were actors; so it should come as no surprise that Steven was able to put on a show of earnest cooperation.

“Actually, Steven, we’ve got a few questions about your relationship with Diana,” Ernie said.

“A very intelligent woman,” said Steven.

“Yes, well. We understand you met with her the morning of her death.”

“I did,” said Steven.

“But she’s got a restraining order against you.”

“That’s correct.”

“Well, that interests me,” said Ernie. “Let’s talk about this for a minute. Why’d she need a restraining order?”

Steven’s face remained pleasant.

“I’m assuming it had to do with the bubble law, right?” Ernie went on. “Weren’t you arrested last summer?”

“I have an ongoing duty to make sure her patients understand what they’re about to do,” Steven replied.

“Just not within eight feet.”

“Correct.”

“But you went right up to the door with one woman, last summer.”

“She asked for a brochure,” Steven said. “I was only complying with her wishes.”

“By then padlocking yourself to the railing?”

“Do you want to get into a general discussion of nonviolent protest?” asked Steven. “Because if you do, I’ve an entire box of literature you might like to read.”

“I’m just trying to understand why Dr. Duprey got the restraining order,” said Ernie. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“Well, read the court papers, then. I’m a busy man. Thank you, dear,” Steven said as Trudy set down a tray of coffee mugs.

Huck sensed Ernie’s threshold dropping. He did not want them to blow this interview. “I think what we’re trying to get at concerns the morning of Diana’s death,” he explained. “You showed up at the clinic that morning, which violated not only the bubble law but the terms of the restraining order. We’re just wondering why you went.”

Steven sipped his coffee. “That’s confidential.”

“You want to explain how?” Huck said. “Doctor-patient? Clergy-communicant?”

“Doesn’t matter, it’s still confidential,” Steven said.

Now Huck found his own patience wearing thin. It was clear Steven felt backed up against the wall, but Huck wished the man would realize that any lack of forthrightness now wasn’t going to make the law go away. He decided to give it one last try. “People at the clinic have said that you were fairly upset that morning,” he said. “You want to elaborate?”

“No,” said Steven. “As a matter of fact, I do not.”

“You were upset, though.”

“I said I’m not going to elaborate.”

“How about over at the hospital? You were pretty upset there too.”

“Look, detectives. My being upset that day had nothing to do with Diana’s death. Now—”

But before he could finish, Trudy, who’d just poured some cream into Ernie’s mug of coffee, slammed the carton back down on the tray. “You people are
so off base
!”

“Trudy,” Steven began.

“They are! Honestly, Steven! When are you going to give up the notion that Jack and Elaine are going to save your ass and come forward themselves?”

Huck took a notebook and pen from his pocket.

“You need to talk to
them,
” Trudy told Huck. “
They’re
the ones who had the bone to pick with Diana. Don’t you guys do your homework? Haven’t you talked to the surgery team over at the hospital?”

“Trudy,” Steven began again.

“Shut up, Steven. I’m sick of walking around this town feeling like all eyes are upon you and me. His name is Jack Fries,” she told Huck. “His wife’s name is Elaine. They’re the people to talk to. If they haven’t left town, that is. And to think that they might have been part of our family at one time! I guess God has his reasons, doesn’t he?”

“Jack Fries on the school board?” asked Ernie.

“Yes, and why he has a problem with an abstinence-only program is beyond me. Look what it might have done for Rose,” she added.

Steven was glancing into his lap. Only when Huck saw his lips moving did he realize that the man was praying. Immediately he felt his guard rise. Not being religious, he always feared the conversional motives of those who were.

“Rose made her own decisions, Trudy,” Steven reminded her.

“Who is Rose?” asked Ernie.

“Jack Fries’s daughter,” said Trudy. “She’s fifteen. She was dating our son Scott. Need I say more?”

Steven cleared his throat. “Rose was with child.”

“The man wouldn’t even let us have a funeral for the baby,” Trudy said bitterly. “As if we had no interest! How some people can be so cruel and selfish and—and—determinative.”

“All we wanted was a service,” Steven added. “ ‘For thou didst form my inward parts; thou didst knit me together in my mother’s womb.’ ”

“Scott was devastated,” Trudy told Huck.

“ ‘Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you.’ ” Steven rose from his chair and stood behind Trudy and placed his hands on her shoulders. “It’s time for you to leave. Trudy’s right. You need to talk to Jack Fries.”

“Are you saying you had no role in Diana’s death, then?” Ernie asked.

On a side table was a small black Bible. Steven handed it to Huck, then placed his palm upon its cover. “I swear,” he said. “I never, ever did anything to hurt Diana Duprey.”

“Do you know who did?” said Ernie.

“No,” said Steven. “But talk to Jack Fries.” He escorted Huck and Ernie to the door. Out on the porch there was a large cardboard box that had not been there when they arrived. The outside of the box showed a picture of a baby stroller. When Steven saw it, his face dimmed.

“Oh, dear,” he said. “I thought Trudy had canceled everything for the baby. She shouldn’t see this. It’s been very rough on her,” he said. “She’s not handling this well at all.” He hoisted the box in his arms and, without saying goodbye, headed for the garage.

Huck and Ernie walked back to the car. “So, do you believe him?” Huck said.

“Not a hundred percent,” replied Ernie, “but I’m intrigued.” He put the car in gear and headed down the street.

“Who’s Jack Fries?”

“He practices family law. He used to coach Little League with me—in fact, I taught his daughter to pitch, back when she was a pipsqueak. If it’s the same Jack Fries.”

“Slow down,” said Huck. “His daughter’s how old?”

“Same as Claire.”

“Slow down, I said. Is Claire friends with her?”

“I don’t know.”

“Ask.”

“Like she’ll tell me. Fine, I’ll ask.”

“Look out!” Huck exclaimed as Ernie nearly sideswiped a bus. “What’s the matter with you?!”

Ernie swerved into the right-hand lane. “Jack Fries represented Leigh’s ex-husband, during her divorce,” he said. “Screwed her out of their condo at Keystone. I’ve been waiting for ten years to nail that guy.”

For the first time that day Huck laughed. “Small town?”

“It’s taken you this long to figure that out?”

“Just drive,” sighed Huck.

—————

They found Jack Fries at his office downtown, on the fifth floor of one of the town’s few high-rises. Jack was with a client, so Huck and Ernie sat down to wait. Huck didn’t mind, actually; it was the first break he’d had all day. He picked up a copy of
People
magazine. Inside was an article on Diana, a kind of post-mortem portrait, focusing on her decision, years ago, not to terminate her pregnancy when she learned at eighteen weeks her baby had Down syndrome. The article included an old family portrait showing the four of them: Diana holding Ben, who grinned out from behind thick lenses; and Frank holding a very disheveled Megan, who looked ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. The caption below the picture read, “An Abortionist’s Choice.”

He didn’t have time to read the article, though, because the receptionist’s phone buzzed. She stood and led them down an art-filled hallway to Jack Fries’s office. Inside, broad picture windows overlooked the foothills, whose knuckled slopes lay bare and grassy to the south, snow-covered to the north.

“Detectives,” said Jack, reaching across his desk to shake hands. “What can I do for you?”

“Nice view,” Ernie remarked.

“I like it. What brings you here?”

“Your daughter,” said Ernie.

Jack Fries tipped his chair back and folded his hands on his stomach.

“What happened when she went in for her abortion on December seventeenth?” asked Ernie.

Jack’s face remained expressionless.

“Why’d she end up in the hospital?”

There was a long moment of silence. “Sorry, boys,” he finally said.

“Sorry what?” said Ernie.

Jack leaned to pick up his phone, but Ernie stopped him. “Dr. Duprey did perform an abortion on your daughter, didn’t she?”

“No,” said Jack. “No, she did not.”

“You want to set us straight?”

“Nope.”

Huck cleared his throat. “Dr. Duprey performed most of her abortions in her clinic. Rose ended up in the hospital. Did Dr. Duprey botch things up?”

“Because a lot of things can go wrong during an abortion,” Ernie said.

“Like if the girl starts to hemorrhage,” added Huck.

“And needs surgery,” Ernie finished.

They waited for Jack to respond. Huck felt his heart beating hard and fast. He and Ernie were bluffing, they were making a lot of assumptions here, but Jack’s face had paled and Huck knew as certain as he knew anything these days that they were on to something.

Quietly he said, “Tell us what happened to Rose, Jack.”

The color returned to Jack’s face as he leaned forward in his chair. “Nothing happened to Rose. Rose is fine. Rose, as a matter of fact, is in school as we speak.”

“Gee, I didn’t see her playing basketball last Friday night,” Ernie remarked.

“Get out,” said Jack. “I had nothing to do with Diana’s death. You’re a bunch of fools. Not just you two. I’m talking about the entire department here. You fucked up with Templeton and now you’re going to fuck up here. You’re a sorry bunch. Get your act together.”

Huck glanced at Ernie. They stood up.

“I said leave,” said Jack.

“We’re leaving,” Huck said. “But can I suggest something? Hire yourself a good lawyer by the end of the day. Best investment you’ll ever make.”

Huck and Ernie rode the elevator down in silence. Outside the air had turned warm, and rivers of melted snow trickled alongside the curb. Across the street a hot dog vendor sang his menu. Huck and Ernie drove back to the police station in continued silence. They had a lot to do in the next few hours. They had to update the chief; they had to run a search on Jack Fries (though Huck was doubtful they’d come up with anything); they had to draft warrants. Huck felt primed. For the first time in a month he felt like he was in control. They were going to break this case.

Plus, Megan was no longer staying at his house. Carolyn’s sister was almost over the shingles. Everything was coming together.

“It’s not an ace in the hole,” Ernie reminded him as they pulled into the parking lot of police headquarters. “All it is is a
potential
break. So don’t get your hopes up.”

“Hell, no.”

They got out of the car and walked into the station.

“Guilty as all get-out, though,” murmured Ernie.

“Guy’s going down,” Huck agreed.

—————

But arriving back at the department, Huck found a message on his desk. The chief of police wanted to see him immediately. Expecting that he merely wanted an update, both Huck and Ernie went down to his office, only to learn from his secretary that the chief wanted to meet with Huck privately. When Huck asked what about, the secretary merely shrugged and fussed with her mouse.

In another moment the door opened, and Stan Wolfowitz came out. Huck had expected to see Stan. It was Stan’s office, after all. He did not, however, expect to see Bill Branson.

“Dude!” Bill exclaimed when he noticed Huck. “Looking well rested, I’d say.”

“Thank you,” Stan said quietly to Bill. Bill gave a little salute in return and zipped up his jacket.

“Come on in,” said Stan. Huck followed him into his office. The chief of police had summitted Mount Everest several years back, so the walls held many blown-up pictures of an unidentifiable human figure, stuffed, bundled, and goggled against a white background.

Huck took a seat in the chair in front of the chief’s desk. “What did Bill Branson want?”

Stan leaned back in his chair. “You tell me.”

Huck mentally scrolled through the evidence. Had he overlooked something? Missed a tip?

“Okay, fine,” said Stan, leaning forward. “I’ll make it easy for you. Look, Huck, you’re a good cop. And a smart guy. And not a sneak, either. Which is why I am finding this very, very hard to believe.”

Huck racked his brains.

“What gets me is that you spent a year in Internal Affairs. You know the Code of Conduct backward and forward.”

“Help me out, Stan,” warned Huck.

Stan leaned back in his chair. “Fine. It concerns the Duprey girl.”

“Megan?”

“Please don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Come on, Huck—do you think we’d ever be able to put you on the stand if they knew you’d been sleeping with someone in the victim’s family?”

Huck felt like he’d been hit in the chest. A whistling sound filled his ears. For a few seconds he was speechless as he pictured Bill Branson at his front door last night.

Stan’s demeanor was incredulous and parental. “What were you thinking? Like, did it even occur to you that there might be breach-of-trust issues here? Conflict of interest? Did you think people wouldn’t find out? What in God’s name were you thinking, Huck? You didn’t even call for assistance when she showed up!”