Chapter 13: The Hearing
The courtroom smelled like old paper and lemon polish. Silas Crane sat in the front row, hands folded tight. Tommy sat two rows back, legs swinging because they did not quite reach the floor.
"Nervous, Mr. Crane?" Diane Frye whispered, arranging folders on the table in front of them.
"I have faced down shipowners in three languages," Silas said. "This is different."
"Different is fine. We are ready."
Judge Patricia Boone took the bench, sixty-something, silver hair pulled back. She tapped her gavel once. "We are on the record in the matter of Crane versus Reyes," she said. "Guardianship of Thomas Reyes, a minor. Ms. Frye, begin."
Diane stood. "Your Honor, we submit Exhibit A: a certified DNA analysis." She carried the folder to the clerk. "The laboratory compared samples from petitioner Silas Crane and the minor, Thomas Reyes. The result shows a 99.99 percent probability of a grandparent-grandchild relationship."
A murmur ran through the gallery. Tommy was staring at Silas, wide-eyed, and Silas gave him the smallest nod he could manage.
"Ninety-nine point nine nine," Tommy whispered, loud enough for half the room to hear.
Silas's chest tightened. Twelve years, answered in one number.
Judge Boone read the report. "So admitted. Continue," she said.
"Your Honor," Diane said, "the DNA is the science. Now the paper." She lifted a plastic sleeve. "Exhibit B. The true birth certificate of Thomas Daniel Reyes, born November second, 2014, at St. Joseph's Hospital. Filed correctly, then buried when the record was altered to show an infant death that never occurred."
Preston's attorney rose. "Objection, Your Honor. Counsel is characterizing."
"Then I will let the witness characterize," Boone said. "Overruled for now. Ms. Frye."
"The witness will explain it," Diane said. "The petitioner calls Lucia Alvarez."
Lucia Alvarez walked to the stand, seventy-something, spine straight. She took the oath with a steady voice.
"Mrs. Alvarez," Diane said, "what was your occupation in 2014?"
"I was a delivery nurse at St. Joseph's Hospital," Lucia said. "Forty years on the maternity ward."
"Do you remember the birth of Thomas Reyes?"
"I remember every difficult birth, ma'am. The mother was young and alone. She would not let go of the baby's hand." Lucia glanced toward Tommy. "He had a cry like a foghorn."
Laughter rippled through the courtroom.
"And the birth log?" Diane asked.
"I entered it myself. November second, 2014. Boy. Six pounds, four ounces. Mother: Margaret Crane Reyes." Lucia paused. "In the fall of 2015, a man in a suit came to the records office with papers. He said the family wanted certain records corrected. The administrator told us to alter the entry."
"What did you do, Mrs. Alvarez?"
"I made a photocopy of the true log first," Lucia said. "I had worked there forty years. I knew what a real record looked like. I kept the copy in my home for twelve years."
Diane held up the photocopy. "Exhibit C."
Preston's attorney stood again. "Your Honor, we object to Exhibit C. The chain of custody is a home drawer, and the witness is describing events from twelve years ago. Memory is fragile."
Lucia lifted her chin. "Young man, I can still tell you the weight of every baby I delivered in November of 2014. Memory is not a drawer you empty. It is a room you keep."
Boone rapped the gavel lightly. "Mr. Cavanaugh, your objection goes to weight, not admissibility. Exhibit C is admitted."
Diane turned back to Lucia. "Did you recognize the man in the suit?"
"I did not know his name then. I know it now," Lucia said. "He sits behind the defense table."
Preston's attorney shot to his feet. "Objection. Identification after twelve years, with a suggestion planted by counsel."
"Sustained as to form," Boone said. "The witness may answer."
Lucia looked directly at Preston. "I recognize him."
Diane excused her. As Lucia stepped down, she squeezed Silas's shoulder once.
"Ms. Frye, call your next witness," Boone said.
"The petitioner calls Mack Drayton."
Mack Drayton shuffled to the stand like a man walking to a dentist's chair. He took the oath and sat, and did not look at Preston.
"Mr. Drayton," Diane said, "in 2014 you were hired as a private investigator. Is that correct?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"And your report stated that Margaret Crane Reyes's infant son had died. Correct?"
Drayton shifted. "That is what the report says."
"Was it true?"
"I believed it at the time."
"You believed it." Diane let the words hang. "Did you personally visit St. Joseph's Hospital?"
"I visited. I spoke with staff."
"Did you see a death certificate?"
A long pause. Drayton wiped his mouth. "I was given documentation."
"Given by whom?"
Another pause. "I do not recall precisely."
"Mr. Drayton," Diane said, "this court has granted you no favors. Precision would serve you."
"I said I do not recall," Drayton said, louder than he intended.
A voice like a slammed door cut through the room. "This is a setup!" Frank Reyes was on his feet, finger jabbing the air. "That kid is mine! You rich people think you can buy family?"
Tommy went rigid. "Uncle Frank..."
"Sit down," a deputy said.
"You sat on your hands twelve years, old man!" Frank shouted at Silas. "Now you play grandpa? I raised that boy!"
Two deputies took his arms. He kept shouting all the way to the doors, and the gavel came down like thunder.
"Mr. Reyes will be removed and held in contempt," Boone said. "This hearing will not be a circus." She waited until the doors closed. "Mr. Drayton, you will return tomorrow prepared to answer counsel's questions fully. This court does not enjoy guessing games."
Diane sat down. Silas leaned toward her. "Did we win?"
"We established the blood and the paper," she whispered. "Tomorrow we get the man who buried them."
Judge Boone removed her glasses. "This court will recess until nine tomorrow morning. The hearing continues." She paused. "I will rule when I have heard Mr. Drayton's testimony. Good day."