Linda Fairstein - Hell Gate

“Who was the woman in the street, Ethan? The woman who was screaming at you?”

He pretended not to hear me as he stalled for time, for a way to resolve this potentially explosive incident. The tabloid feeding frenzy would crush any hopes he had of disposing of his drunk driving case.

“Who was the woman in the street?”

Leighton glanced at the sleeping baby but didn’t answer. The tic in his eye was getting more pronounced.

Mercer stood up from a nearby desk and took his worn leather badge case out of his pocket. From behind the flap, he removed an old photograph of Logan.

“This is my son, Mr. Leighton. He’s a little older than Ana. He’s home safe in his bed, where he should be at this hour, surrounded by all his favorite things. And I’d be right there with him if you hadn’t interrupted my night.”

Leighton almost whispered. “I’d like to take her home with me.”

“Not a single photograph in your wallet of that beautiful little girl? I can’t imagine it,” Mercer said. He was getting to Leighton in a way that I could not. “You want to tell me how you expect to get legal custody of Ana? What your wife says about all this? Hell, Claire hasn’t even been cleared as a suspect yet.”

Ethan Leighton turned and walked back to his seat.

I wasn’t ready for this enormous curve ball that had been thrown at me in the middle of the night. I was shocked to think that Leighton had known about Ana’s whereabouts all week, puzzled that he’d had the bad sense to toss Lem off his case, no less walk into this bizarre situation on the street. I was unprepared to be the one to tell him-in the dingy confines of the squad room-that he was not in fact the biological father of this little girl.

“Suppose I leave here without taking Ana?”

“You can do that.”

“What happens to her now? I mean, where does she go?”

The ugly truth was that Ana was likely to be placed in the care of the city’s children’s services agency until her identity could be sorted out.

“I wasn’t expecting any of this, Ethan. It won’t be my decision.”

“The woman who’s been caring for her is a good person. If you’d assure me that Ana can stay with her, I’m willing to step back until things are settled.”

“Then you’ve got to tell me who she is. Nobody’s going to let this child go off in the night with a stranger on your say-so. Give us a chance to fight for the baby.”

“Drag her into a police station? You’re punishing me, not the child. I don’t think I can do that.”

“What’s her name?” Mercer asked again.

Ethan Leighton got to his feet and began pacing across the room.

“She’s called Anita. Salma named the baby for her, in her honor.”

“That’s a good start,” I said. I was thinking that the baby was most likely Anita’s child, given the name for that reason. “Her last name?”

“Let me think about whether I want to do this.”

“Maybe I can move you along,” Mercer said. “Salma must have been very close to Anita, right? Trusted her a great deal?”

Leighton was still reluctant to talk. He took his time answering. “Yes, she did.”

“Is Anita also Mexican?”

He nodded.

“Did she come here illegally? I can help her with that if you’ll let me. We’re not going to do anything to hurt her.”

“They were very dear friends, Detective. Anita took care of the baby when Salma needed help. They’ve been through a lot of things together. Things you couldn’t begin to understand.”

Try me, I wanted to say. “How much time have you spent with your baby?”

“Very little, Alex. I told you that. It’s been a very complicated relationship. I-I wasn’t even sure the child was mine until recently. I’ve been trying to do the right thing by both of them, okay? I’m financially capable of giving the child a good life. Claire-my wife-is an incredibly strong woman. She’s willing to take this on with me.”

“There are many more issues to be considered than just your wishes. I don’t think anyone’s going to leave that decision up to you and Claire.”

“What the hell is this? A social work office or a police station? Somebody pass a law I don’t know about that I can’t raise my own kid?” Leighton was suddenly raging like a gored bull.

“Calm yourself, down, sir. Alex is right. The family court will have a look at the paternity tests. They’ll establish the maternal link, too, what with Ms. Zunega dead and unable to be party to this.”

Leighton swiveled around and swept a few volumes of a detective’s penal law books off the top of the old wooden desk. “They’ll take my word for it, goddamn it. I’m a congressman, for Chrissakes.”

I didn’t want to get any more specific with him, give him any more bad news, until I checked with Lem Howell to see if his representation had really been withdrawn and we were all in a more private place.

“It’s five o’clock on a Sunday morning, Ethan. You know nothing is going to be settled today. If you want Ana to be well cared for, tell me how to find Anita.”

“And you’ll give her the baby?”

“I’ll recommend that she be vetted to take custody in the short term. You know there’s been a manhunt for this child, all over the country, for days now.”

Leighton dropped his head again and nodded. “The baby’s been perfectly safe. They’ve hardly left their apartment for a minute since the news about the murder. Anita’s only fear is that Salma’s baby will be taken from her, in the event that I’m not granted custody.”

“You mind telling me why your friend Anita was standing on a street corner at three o’clock in the morning, causing such a commotion? Running off without this child she loves so much?” Mercer asked.

Leighton shuffled uncomfortably. He wasn’t making eye contact with any of us. “Anita’s been difficult since last week, when she heard the news about how sick Ana was, and then about my accident.”

“What was she screaming for? Doesn’t she want to help you?”

“She doesn’t want anything from me. She’s hysterical right now,” Ethan Leighton said, mopping the sweat on his temple and smoothing back his hair. “Anita’s full of crazy ideas. She thinks I’m the one who killed Salma.”

I stepped out into the hallway and called Mike on his cell.

“Yeah?” he asked. “Wassup, Coop?”

“Returning the favor. Sorry for the early wake-up call. I’m in the Three-three with Mercer. We think we have the baby that Salma borrowed to put pressure on Ethan Leighton.”

“Alive and well? When did you get there? Why are you only calling me now?”

“Because Mercer didn’t know what he had when he was on his way uptown.” Because I thought I could handle things without getting you out of bed, is what I wouldn’t say out loud. “And we’re about to have breakfast with Leighton himself, in case you want to join us.”

“Give me twenty minutes and I’ll be there. The baby and her mother okay?”

“Baby’s sleeping through the whole thing. Like a baby. Patrol is combing the ’hood for Mama.”

“Hold tight. See you soon.”

Mercer had sent one of the uniformed officers out to pick up sandwiches and coffee. We had turned the discussion around, explaining to Leighton our fears for Anita’s well-being, alone on the streets at this hour of the morning, and the importance of finding her before she was hurt.

While the congressman took a few minutes to eat, I went downstairs and asked the desk sergeant to get in touch with ACS-the Administration for Children’s Services. This time, baby Ana would be examined at a hospital and placed with a good foster home until the circumstances of her parenthood and living conditions could be determined.