“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with him, give him any more bad news, until I checked with Lem Howell to see if his representation had really been withdrawn and we were all in a more private place.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.”
FORTY-TWO
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.
Leighton was beginning to understand that there was no possibility that the child would be released to his care at this point in time. It wasn’t clear that he trusted us, but he seemed to get the fact that we needed to look for Salma’s friend.
We learned from him that her name was Anita Paz, and that she was twenty-two years old. She had not landed in quite the kind of luxurious lap that had cushioned her friend Salma recently. She shared an apartment with a distant cousin on the Upper West Side, in the vicinity of Columbia University.
“When did you meet Anita?”
He was gnawing on a toothpick. “Why does that matter?”
“Maybe something you say will help us find her.”
“I met her when Salma came back from Texas with the baby. She lived in the apartment for a while, sort of helping out until she got her own place. She was so grateful to Salma for getting her out of-you know-the business, and the way she could repay the kindness was by taking care of Ana.”
It was becoming more and more obvious to Mercer and me that Anita was the likely birth mother, loaning her child to Salma in order to blackmail the congressman.
Leighton had been ringing Anita’s cell number every fifteen minutes. It went right to voice mail and she hadn’t returned any of the calls.
“She’ll cool down and get back to me.”
“Mind if I try her on my phone? The number’s blocked so she won’t know who’s calling.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, extending his hand to give me the phone.
I made note of the number and dialed it. The voice mail message was in English. I left her my name and number and told her that I was a friend of Salma’s who wanted to help her.
“How does Anita support herself?” I asked.
“It’s not what you think, Alex. She’s not in the sex trade anymore. She’s-she’s just an escort. Very occasionally. Nothing sexual, just conversation and company.”
Put that in the category of wishful thinking.
Mercer and I were both trying to restore ourselves with hot coffee. “Now, why would Anita go and accuse you of hurting Salma?” he asked, as though the thought itself was the height of absurdity.
“I can’t fathom it myself. She knows how good I was to her.”
“That little display you put on, throwing the law books around, is that typical for you?”
“Not at all. I’m-I’m just horribly frustrated by what’s going on tonight. I want that child to be safe. I’m prepared to take whatever legal steps are necessary to have her with me.”
“Like Alex says, you’re free to leave. The baby goes nowhere.”
When Mike walked into the squad room, Leighton stood to greet him but I took him aside first and told him what we’d learned.
He and Mercer picked up the conversation while I sat a few desks back, out of Leighton’s line of vision. They were going to do the “guy thing,” persuading him to open up about his relationship with Salma and her circle of friends.