Peter Clement - Mortal Remains

They moved into his combination living-waiting room, and he lit a fire. For a while they sat quietly side by side on the floor, watching the flames. He felt comfortable with the silence. So comfortable, he decided, it was time to clear up at least one of the many unknowns that worried at him. “Lucy, what were you on the verge of telling me last night, before you left to buy a dress?”

He felt her stiffen. After a few seconds she said, “I haven’t been entirely honest about why I took my elective here.”

He didn’t reply, wanting to hear more, but not about to extract it piecemeal.

“You see, I’ve got ghosts here, too, just as you do,” she continued, “but I’m trying to find mine, not run from them. So what I’m about to say might be upsetting to you.”

The same feeling he’d had two days ago while they were talking in her car, that she was about to cut very close to a vital organ, crept through him, and once more he grew still.

“Where I’ve worked the last seven years, all that sudden death, families ripped apart, and the life-and-death struggles so many thousands went through to reunite with their blood kin, it awakened a similar hunger in me. When I came back, Mom and Dad were great and gave me all the papers they had.

“I’d been adopted from an orphanage in Albany. But after I got my original birth certificate unsealed, the father was listed as unknown, and all attempts to locate the woman registered as my birth mother came to a dead end. The people I hired to find her told me she didn’t exist, that a false name must have been used. They suggested I contact the place where I was born, that the birth records would be more extensive and might give an indication who my mother really was. That led me to Hampton Junction and Braden’s home for unwed mothers. But all my attempts to get the original records from Braden Senior failed.”

She paused and took a sip of wine, keeping her eyes on the flames. “First I went through legal channels. Apparently the records room burned just prior to the place shutting down. Then I went to Braden himself. He apologized, but said essentially the same thing. He even had affidavits attesting to the fire, as others had been looking for records before me. When I asked him to refer me to people who had worked in the place on the off chance they could help me, he said he’d have his secretaries try to find some of his old staff, but in the end told me they hadn’t been able to locate anybody who’d worked there the year I was born. Now maybe I’ve been working around war criminals for too long, but when record rooms catch on fire, or nobody can find the people who worked in a place, that’s when I begin to get a little suspicious.”

Another pause, another sip.

Mark didn’t budge.

“So I moved on to Plan B. Since I was going to do a residency in family medicine anyway, I chose the teaching hospital that offered rural electives up here, intending to find out what I could from the local residents.”

He felt incredulous. He’d been dreading something sinister, yet here was an innocent story that he could hardly believe. “How could that help you?” he asked.

“One thing I did know. My records at Albany were in a red file. The other dossiers were mostly green. The administrator there said she thought the red folders designated a mother from the Hampton Junction area, the color signaling the need for special precautions regarding confidentiality so no one living nearby would learn who in town had been a patient…”

He immediately thought of Nell’s friend. There couldn’t be too many local women who went there. Not that she necessarily might be Lucy’s mother, though that was a possibility. But she might know who else from the area had been in the place. What if Nell were to ask her – no, he mustn’t let his imagination run wild. It was too great a long shot.

“… Now don’t get me wrong. I would have chosen you as my first pick for a rural rotation anyway. The residency program rates a stint with Mark Roper as their top elective, and being here with you and your patients – I adore it. But I also hoped working with you would give me a quick way into the community. I thought that maybe I could find something that would lead me to my biological mother. When I heard about the discovery of Kelly’s body, and that you were investigating her murder, I changed my schedule, bumping my rotation ahead. I figured there’d be no surer way of finding out what I wanted than by getting myself into the middle of what would probably be a major gossipfest, everyone talking about the Bradens and that era, then take advantage of it by steering conversations toward the subject of the home. So here I am. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think my own quest would make any difference to my doing a good job working with you. And I couldn’t be sure you would accept me if I told you my story outright. I hoped after a week or so, once you were satisfied with my performance, I’d be able to confide the rest, and it wouldn’t make a difference to you. And if in the process of trying to find my mother, I helped you dig up something on the Bradens that would help you, so much the better.”

She fell silent and just kept staring at the fire.

His initial relief gave over to feeling a little uneasy at how calculating this all sounded. Strip it down, and she’d basically come here to use his patients and the investigation to pursue her personal agenda. But she was also a legitimate resident and damn good doctor who had provided first-rate care to the people he’d entrusted her with. So was there a problem here?

For one, he’d shown her evidence in a coroner’s case. Should any of those files ever add up to charges against Chaz, the fact they’d been in the hands of someone who had her own issues with Chaz’s father might give the Braden lawyers yet another conflict-of-interest gun to hold over his head. He couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of that.

She turned her head and gave him a contrite smile as if she sensed his discomfort with what she’d done. “I would have told you all this by next week. Events just started to roll faster than I expected, and you got the jump on me. Our first day together, when you said how everyone would let me in on the seamier sides of Hampton Junction, I nearly ‘fessed up then and there. I hope you can forgive me.”

Forgive? His instincts leapt to point out the potential problems she’d caused, but in the firelight her dark eyes emitted a sad warmth that laid a calming hand on his concerns. “Of course,” he said, deciding against saying anything for the moment. It was too late to do anything about what had happened anyway.

They remained where they were for a while, sipping wine, Lucy talking about the service industry that had sprung up for people trying to find a biological parent – everything from detectives to tracking programs on the Internet – and how none of it worked for her. To Mark it sounded as if she was still trying to justify her subterfuge. In any case, the openness between them from before dinner was gone.

Before going to bed, he took his messages.

“… Dr. Roper, it’s Victor. I think I’ve found what had companies using Nucleus Labs so jumpy. Also, I got to wondering about the group of New York doctors and, being in a suspicious frame of mind, figured I ought to check if there were anything in the test results themselves to warrant someone wanting to store them separately. I hacked into the terminal we forward them to, and there’s a peculiar little something there as well. Give me a call…”

Instantly he felt wide-awake. He was dialing the number when the next recording sounded.

“… Mark, it’s Earl. I’m in the hospital, admitted as a patient. We have to talk…”

Holy shit! he thought. There was no answer when he got through to Victor’s. “Maybe he’s out somewhere for Thanksgiving dinner,” he said to Lucy, who had appeared at the door to his office. She must have overheard the messages.