Cruel Justice

63

EARLY THE NEXT MORNING, with Joey bundled in his arms, Ben stopped by his office to see if Christina and Jones had accomplished their missions. Unfortunately, on his way in, he nearly tripped over the man from the air-conditioning company.

“Are you still here?” Ben said. “Get a life already!”

“I told you, I’m not leaving till this bill is paid. I’m on permanent assignment.”

“What is it with you? I’ve admitted that I owe you money. I’ve told you I’ll pay it as soon as I can. What more do you want? Just repossess the damn thing and get it over with. Or file a lawsuit, like everybody else in the country.”

“A fine attitude for you to take. I’m not the deadbeat who missed a payment. If you’ll just pay me what you owe, I’ll be gone.”

“Look, I’m in the middle of a murder trial, and what’s worse, I’m losing. I need an expert witness that I haven’t got, my mother is mad at me, I’m stuck with my sister’s baby, and my cat keeps dropping dead animals in my bed. I didn’t get a lick of sleep last night, and frankly, I don’t have time for this. So get out of my face!”

Unfortunately, Ben’s diatribe woke the baby. Joey’s tiny eyelids opened, and he began to sob.

Christina emerged from the back room and took the baby from him. “Now look what you’ve done.”

“He was sound asleep a moment ago.”

“Right. Till you started in with the air-conditioner man.” Christina waved him toward a chair. “Sit down and collect yourself.”

“I do not need to collect myself!”

“Right.”

Ben allowed himself to be dragged to a chair. Christina got the formula out of the diaper bag, poured it, and plopped a bottle in Joey’s mouth. The caterwauling subsided.

“Do you need a massage?” Christina asked.

“Is this one of those deals where you draw concentric circles around my temples and mutter the secrets of the cosmos into my ear? No, that’s not what I need.”

“True. What you need is a major sedative, but all I can offer is the massage.” Ignoring him, she began massaging his scalp with her free hand. “What are you doing with Joey? You’re due in the courtroom in less than an hour.”

“Mother left.”

“Where did she go?”

“I don’t know. When I got up, she was gone.”

“I can’t believe she would leave you with the baby when you’re in the middle of a trial—” Christina stopped, then her eyes narrowed. “Ben, did you do something crazy?”

“I most certainly did not.”

“She just decided to pack her bags and say au revoir, with no provocation.”

“Well, I didn’t say—”

“Ben, how could you?”

“How could I what?”

“How could you be mean to your mother? I mean, she’s your mother!”

“I didn’t do anything that—”

“I bet you did. You yelled at her, didn’t you, and said something awful?”

“Well …”

“I knew it. Did she tell you she was leaving?”

“Well, yes, but I assumed she was taking the baby with her.”

Christina stopped massaging. “Ben, when are you going to figure it out?”

“Figure what out?”

“This is your blind spot. Deep down, I know you’re a sweetheart. But when it comes to your family, you go off the deep end.”

“I don’t think that’s—”

“And the worst of it is, I never got to go clothes shopping with her!”

On this point, Ben joined in her grieving. “Look, Christina, I hate to lay this on you, but you’re going to have to look after Joey while I’m in court.”

“No way!”

“I’m sorry, but what else can I do?”

“Let me see. Day care. Mother’s Day Out. A Skinner box. There are many possibilities.”

“Be serious. I don’t have time to arrange for child care. You said you and he were getting along—”

“Ben, you need to stop relying on other people to do all the hard stuff and start acting like a responsible parent.”

“But I’m not a responsible parent—”

“Exactly my point.”

“I’m not any kind of parent. This is just a temporary situation.”

“Yeah, right.” Christina repositioned the bottle in Joey’s mouth, then passed him back to Ben. “Fine. I’ll baby-sit.” She rummaged through the diaper bag. “I can’t believe I’m doing this. Again. During a major trial. I’m a trained professional. I have a certificate from TJC!”

“Why don’t you take him back to my apartment? He seems comfortable there. And … um … I just had a new air-conditioning unit installed. And if Mother happens to come back, you can give her the kid and head for the courtroom.”

“I suppose—”

“Pardon me.”

Both Ben and Christina turned. A middle-aged man in a herringbone jacket was poking his head through the front door. “Are you Ben Kincaid?”

“Yes. Can I help you?”

The man stammered awkwardly. “Well … I was told I could help you.”

“Help me—how?’

“I’m a doctor. Oh, how stupid of me.” He patted his jacket and searched through his pockets frenetically, removing tissues, eyeglasses, and a pocket watch. “Here’s my card. Dr. Emil Allyn.”

“And how can you …”

“I guess I haven’t made myself clear. I’m a psychiatrist.”

Ben’s brow protruded. “Christina, if this is your idea of a joke …”

“No, no, no,” Allyn insisted. “When I say help, I mean … well, I’m a specialist in traumatic memory suppression.”

Ben stepped forward and clasped the man’s shoulder. “Jones came through! You’re my expert witness!”

Allyn looked faintly embarrassed. “I guess so. If you wish me to be.”

“I do! Believe me I do!”

“Well, uh, fine then. By the way …” He pointed. “You’re getting formula on my suit.”