Some Other Child

by Buchbinder, Sharon

  She felt like she was in a zoo. The floor was painted concrete with a drain in the center, plastic covered mattresses, and scratchy blankets were thrown randomly around the cell. A stainless steel combination sink and toilet unit was at one end of the cell and a video camera stared down at her from the other end. Being filmed as she peed was not on her to do list. She wondered how long she could go without using the toilet.

  Sarah could not ignore the other occupant of the cell, a fat, white woman with a blonde mullet hairstyle. She was wearing an eggplant colored leather biker outfit with a fringed vest and leather bra. A Pillsbury dough girl midriff bulged beneath the bra and over the waistband of her pants. She had multiple tattoos and numerous holes in her ears. She had moved her mattress next to Sarah’s the minute she arrived in the cell. Alcohol fumes radiated from her in a cloud.

  “Hey, Hon! Why don’t you come over here and sit next to me?” She patted her mattress. “My name is Beverly. What’s your name, baby?”

  Sarah stared at her. She could barely understand her “Baltimorese.” Her ear heard “Bebberly” for Beverly, “rat” for right and “beby” for baby, among other linguistic oddities. It was more difficult to understand than Yiddish.

  “Oooh, you is a beauty! Baby, I’m the best lover around—and it’s my birthday! You is a wunnerful present! Dem police don’ care what we do. We’ll have a right good time.”

  She finished this invitation with a big wet air kiss. Then, as if to demonstrate her skills, she stuck her tongue out and touched the end of her nose with the tip of her tongue.

  Holy crap. I have to get out of here. Sarah lumbered to her feet, went to the glass and called out to the air, “Hello, Officers, when I can make my phone call? I want to call my lawyer. Hello?”

  “You got a ‘mergency, hon? Don’ you worry ‘bout it none. I’ll take care of you!” Beverly jumped up off the mattress and lunged at Sarah, forcing her back against the window.

  “Help! Somebody, please, help me!” Sarah prayed someone would come.

  Beverly put her face next to Sarah’s, grabbed her shoulders, and began to shake her. Sarah thought she would either get drunk from the alcohol fumes or faint from fear. Her neck went into spasms.

  “Is that a threat? I’m gonna kill you!”

  “Help, someone!”

  “I’m gonna kill you!” She shouted, then winked at Sarah.

  Three police officers ran into the cell. “Calm down, Beverly, knock it off,”

  Two officers pulled Beverly off Sarah. “Stop trying to scare her.”

  “Dr. Wright, come with me. You can make your phone call now,” Officer Cohen said.

  As the other two officers led Beverly out of the cell, she blew Sarah a kiss.

  “Sol, it’s Sarah Wright. I need your help.”

  “Rah Right? You’ll have to speak up!”

  “Where’s Molly? I’m at Precinct 03—in the County. I’ve been arrested for Aunt Ida’s murder. I didn’t do it!”

  “I don’t handle criminal cases.” The phone clicked.

  “Sol. Don’t hang up! Sol?” She turned to Officer Cohen. “Do I get another call if my lawyer is deaf?”

  “You got your call. Back to the cell.”

  Sarah wondered if Beverly would be back. She crawled onto the mattress, closed her eyes, and tried to sleep to shut out the nightmare.

  As she was about to doze off, someone called her name.

  “Dr. Wright! Mr. Weinstein’s here to see you.”

  Energized with hope, she pushed herself up from the mattress and went to the bulletproof window. Somehow, Sol must have understood her on the phone. He’ll get me out of here, I just know it, Sarah thought.

  A tall, handsome young man with broad shoulders entered the holding cell area. He looked as if he might have played football in college. Clean-shaven with short spiky hair, he wore a brown leather jacket, a white button-down shirt, and blue jeans.

  “Dr. Wright?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m Josh Weinstein. Molly said you needed me.”

  “But how?”

  “Molly overheard Sol on the phone with you. It’s hard not to hear Sol on the phone. As soon as she heard him say ‘Rah Right,’ she grabbed the extension on her desk and listened in to see what was going on.”

  “Let me guess—you’re Molly’s husband and Sol’s son? So, she really is Mrs. Weinstein?” Sarah asked. “But you’re so young, and Sol?”

  “Is older than most of the buildings in downtown Baltimore. I’m told I was a change of life baby. I’m not sure whose life changed more, my mother’s or my father’s. My mother passed away when I was just a little guy.” He put his hand down to indicate a younger person.

  “Sol raised me by himself, and I gave him a real hard time. He spent a lot of time bailing me out of jails for a wide variety of youthful indiscretions. He knew the legal system from the outside, and I learned the legal system from the inside. Years later, when I finally got back on track, Sol set me up as a bail bondsman.”

  He showed Sarah his card through the glass.

  “My company is called ‘Three Strikes Bail Bonds.’ Our motto is ‘One-Two-Three! We set you free!’ I’m also attending night classes at the University of Baltimore Law School. At any rate, I’m here to see what I can do for you.”

  “The police arrested me for the murder of my aunt. Her pinky finger and her wedding band were in my freezer, but I didn’t kill her. I swear.” Sarah shook tears out of her eyes. “She’s been missing for close to a week. I filed a missing person report, and no one’s done anything about it. My mother’s in a coma in a nursing home, and I was supposed to go there yesterday to sign papers. A friend was there when I was arrested, but I don’t know what to do.” Feeling snotty and gritty, she wiped her face with the back of her hand. Could things get any worse?

  “I can check on your house and see if your friend is there. The police may still be working the scene.”

  “If you see a tall, dark-haired guy hanging around, looking lost, his name is Dan. Could you tell him where I am, please?”

  “Okay. I can help you with the bail part, but I can’t help you with anything else. You need a criminal lawyer.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. What’s the ‘bail part’? This is all a terrible misunderstanding. It’s a case of false arrest. I can’t believe they have enough evidence to arrest me, much less for a conviction.”

  “All the police need to arrest someone is ‘probable cause.’ Josh said. “Having a finger and a wedding band in your freezer and a missing person report for the same person is a good example of ‘probable cause.’ People have been convicted on the basis of even less evidence.”

  Her stomach plummeted. “If you’re trying to scare me, you’re doing a good job.”

  “Bail’s not a slam-dunk in murder trials. The judge has to determine whether you’re a flight risk, and he has to decide if you’re a risk to the community, a risk to yourself, or if you’re a recidivist. He’s supposed to apply the least, not the most restrictive measures, which some judges tend to forget.”

  “Please, get me out of here,” Sarah said. “I have to find Aunt Ida. I don’t want to make any more new friends in jail. Beverly was enough. My mother needs me. So do my pets.” What about Dan? Did he need her? Not in jail, she thought.

  “I think I know who’d be good for this. I have to call his office and see if he’s available. They probably won’t do anything until tomorrow morning. Do you have any other clothes you want me to bring for your court appearance? The suit you’re wearing isn’t bad.”

  “Lucky for me, I was at a funeral this morning. Who knew I’d be best-dressed person in jail?”

  “Well, count on staying overnight. I’m betting they’ll bring you over to Circuit Court in Towson sometime tomorrow morning or afternoon. In case you do make bail, what kind of collateral do you have? Do you have any savings or possessions you can use?”

  “I might as well give up now. I’m in deep
financial trouble, all because of my mother. I’ve been going crazy trying to keep the utilities and other creditors at bay.” She shook her head. “Your father’s been working on getting me legal guardianship of my mother’s body and property so I can take care of her. I might as well start working on my license plate making and flirting skills now.”

  “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. What about your family? Any sisters or brothers who can help you out?”

  “No wealthy relatives ones. My sister is a nurse. My brother has a daughter in college. He has no cash.”

  “I’ll talk to Sol and see if he has any ideas. Keep your chin up. Remember—‘One-Two-Three! We set you free!’”

  Sarah crawled back onto the mattress, closed her eyes and tried to sleep without much success.

  “Rise and shine, Dr. Wright!” said a chunky blonde police officer with blue eye shadow under her eyes. “You want some breakfast?”

  “I’d like some coffee, please.” She yawned and stretched, feeling every ache and pain in her body. “Would it be possible to get a pad of paper and a pen? I have something I’d like to write down.”

  “Your confession?”

  They never gave up, did they? “No, my thoughts about this case. I think better when I can write.”

  The woman gave her a doubtful look. “I’ll see if it’s allowed.”

  The woman left Sarah alone to her thoughts, the metal toilet, and the video camera. She didn’t want to think about the day she was facing. Sarah kept running over the events of the past week in her mind. Why was she under attack? Where was Aunt Ida? Why were a finger and a wedding band in her freezer? Was it really Aunt Ida’s pinky?

  She had to find Betty—if only she could reach someone at WorkForce. Sarah needed to get her to corroborate her story. The housekeeper was crucial to finding Aunt Ida.

  “Here’s your coffee. Your lawyer called. He said he’d meet you at Circuit Court.”

  “What about a pad of paper and a pencil?”

  “Nope. You’re not a deaf mute, so you’re not entitled to have them.” She gave Sarah a smug little smile. Sarah finger spelled b-i-t-c-h in sign language when the woman left.

  The officer returned a short while later. “Sheriff’s Deputy is here for you, time to put on your jewelry.” She approached Sarah with clanking manacles and shackles.

  “I’m shocked. I can’t believe you think it’s necessary to treat me like a murderer,” Sarah said.

  The woman stared at her.“Let me re-phrase that. I won’t run away.”

  “Yeah, that’s what they all say.” The woman placed the matched set of jewelry on Sarah and led her in a shuffling walk to the female sally port.

  A hot flush of humiliation crept up her neck and face. A Sheriff’s Deputy signed for Sarah, took her by the arm, and led her to a waiting van. “Am I the only person you have?”

  “Yup. You’re a regular celebrity. You get the Sheriff’s limousine service, complete with a bucket of champagne.”

  “What do you mean? I haven’t been on the news, have I?”

  “The question is what news haven’t you been on? Television crews are at the courthouse now. CNN might even be there. They’re calling this a ‘high anus’ crime.”

  Sarah grimaced. “It’s pronounced ‘hay-nous’.”

  Maybe Marian was working so hard and so late she hadn’t turned on a TV or radio in days? Perhaps, she and all of the Pediatrics Department had gone camping in Tibet? Yeah, that’s right, a big camping trip with no electricity. Sarah began to cry. Her life was ruined.

  The van stopped. The back doors opened, and a crowd of reporters with microphones on long poles, cameras, and blinding lights surged toward her. Sarah cringed and clung to the Deputy’s arm. Questions flew at her like verbal rocks.

  “What made you attack your aunt, Dr. Wright?”

  “Why’d you do it, Dr. Wright?”

  “Will you plead insanity?”

  “How about a few words for CNN, Dr. Wright?”

  The Deputy took her to a detention area in the basement of the courthouse and signed Sarah over to another Deputy. A murmuring sound turned out to be the rumble of hundreds of prisoners’ voices. The new Deputy, a flat-faced white man with no discernible emotions, placed her in a barred cell with a motley crew of women who made her long for Beverly.

  Sarah tried not to look anyone in the eye, but it was difficult when a muscular cellmate in a denim shirt began to sniff at her.

  “She’s in heat,” the body-builder shouted out to the vast amusement of the assembled female miscreants.

  Just take me now, Lord. As if in answer to her prayer, the Deputy came over to the cell and called her name.

  “Sarah Wright?”

  She could hardly hear him over women yowling like cats.

  “That’s me!”

  “Your lawyer’s here to see you.”

  A short shuffle walk later, she was in a small room, looking through a grate at a man in a navy blue pinstripe suit, red tie, and light blue oxford button-down shirt. He was taller than Sarah by about three inches and had the powerful build of an athlete. His brown hair was neatly styled and his ruddy face was clean-shaven.

  The lawyer opened out a legal paper sized leather folder embossed with gold initials. A Mont Blanc pen lay in the center. He wore a diamond encrusted Rolex and a large gold signet ring. “You must be Dr. Wright. I’m your defense attorney, Will Rutler.” He motioned for her to be seated. “Let me tell you how this goes. I’m here for the limited purpose of getting you out of jail.”

  “Mr. Rutler, this is a huge mistake, I didn’t do it. “

  “We don’t have time for your editorial comments and we’re not here to discuss the trial. Tell me about yourself. How long have you been in Baltimore? Do you have roots here? I need to be able to establish for the court that you are neither a flight risk, nor a risk to yourself or the community. Are you with me so far?”

  Sarah nodded and took a deep breath.

  “Well?” He raised his eyebrows and stared at her.

  “I live with my mother, have been living with her since she had a DUI and broke her legs. I’m a nurse. I took care of her full-time for a year, then I took a job at Hopkins. I’m in Pediatrics, doing child abuse and neglect research. She—my mother—is in a coma. ”

  “Tell me about your mother.”

  “What does she have to do with this?”

  “Let me be the judge of that. You said she’s in a coma. How’d that happen?” He took notes as he spoke.

  “She fell on the ice last week during the sleet, while she was drunk and using GHB. She’s in a nursing home now, and I was supposed to sign her transfer papers yesterday, but I got arrested. She’s been in a coma for a week. I swear, she has nothing to do with Aunt Ida’s disappearance.”

  “One more time, tell me about your mother. I know you’re upset, but you have to calm down and talk to me, or I can’t help you.”

  Sarah spent the next ten minutes telling Mr. Rutler about her mother.

  He took copious notes and said nothing as she spoke. At length, he closed his leather folder. “When we go into the courtroom, don’t say anything. I’ll do the talking. Got it?”

  “But---?”

  “No buts! This isn’t the time to tell them about anything else. This isn’t the trial. You stay quiet. Are we clear on that?” He glared at her.

  “Yes. I have one question for you.”

  “Yes?”

  “How much is this going to cost? I have no money. I’m struggling to pay my mother’s bills. I can’t afford huge legal fees.”

  He flashed a blinding white smile. “We’ll settle up later. Right now, stay calm and let me do the talking.”

  “All rise! The Circuit Court for Baltimore County is now in session, the Honorable Judge Stein presiding!” the Bailiff announced.

  Everyone stood when the black-robed judge entered the courtroom.

  “You may be seated. We have here before us the State of Maryland versus Sarah
Leah Wright on a charge of first degree murder,” Judge Stein said. “This is a bail hearing. The pretrial release officer has reviewed the case. Ms. Baker, what is the recommendation?”

  A perky blonde woman in a black pants suit stood.

  “Your Honor, the Pretrial Release Office has reviewed the case and we concur. Due to the totality of the circumstances, if Dr. Wright wasn’t the murderer, then she knew about it and aided and abetted the murderer or murderers. Because of the heinous nature of the crime, it is recommended bail not be granted for the defendant.”

  Oh. My. God. I am doomed, Sarah thought.

  “The State of Maryland has the sworn testimony of two police officers that they were present when the finger and wedding ring of Mrs. Ida Mae Katz were discovered.”

  “The ME tells us Mrs. Katz’ body was cut up with a table saw, which would have been a very messy affair. The house and garage were thoroughly cleaned with bleach, making the use of Luminol to find blood impossible. This is the sign of a very intelligent criminal and premeditation.”

  The blonde picked up a piece of paper.

  “Furthermore, a police officer is prepared to testify that it was obvious that a table saw, metal snips, and other tools were removed from the workbench in the garage. The cover-up speaks volumes about a person familiar with the forensics of crime detection.”

  A very intelligent criminal? Premeditation? A cover-up?

  “Upon searching the defendant’s kitchen garbage pail, the Crime Lab found a white handkerchief smeared with blood. Preliminary analyses lead us to believe the blood is a match for Mrs. Katz’ blood.”

  Sarah thought back to the rag Winston dragged into the house and closed her eyes. Doomed. She was doomed.

  The State’s Attorney continued to tap the nails in Sarah’s coffin.

  “9-1-1 records show that the defendant made numerous phone calls, claiming Ida Mae Katz was missing, in an obvious attempt to point the finger at a phantom kidnapper.”

  Had she cried wolf? Sarah wondered. What should she have done? Ignore all the signs? Gone about her business? Pretend nothing was wrong?

  “Furthermore, the defendant’s fingerprints were found on a CD in Mrs. Katz’ car, which was abandoned in a parking lot. The defendant, Sarah Wright, is a Registered Nurse with a PhD in Public Health. We are prepared to prove she had motive, ability and the mental state to kill Mrs. Ida Mae Katz.”