“Yes sir,” Wally managed to mumble.
Judge Seawright tapped his gavel and said, “We’ll meet again in sixty days, and I expect Mr. Alisandros to be here. Adjourned.”
As David and Wally were stuffing files and notepads into their briefcases in hopes of a fast exit, Nadine Karros sauntered over for a quick hello. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Figg, Mr. Zinc,” she said with a smile that made Wally’s nervous heart skip another beat.
“A pleasure,” he said. David returned the smile as he shook her hand.
“This promises to be a long, bruising fight,” she said, “with a lot of money on the table. I try to keep things on a professional level and hard feelings at a minimum. I’m sure your firm feels the same way.”
“Oh yes,” Wally gushed, and almost asked her to go have a drink. David wasn’t as easily manipulated. He saw her as a pretty face and a warm facade, but just below the surface was a ruthless combatant who would enjoy watching you bleed in open court.
“I guess I’ll see you next Wednesday,” she said.
“If not sooner,” Wally said, a lame attempt at humor.
As she stepped away, David grabbed Wally by the arm and said, “Let’s get out of here.”
CHAPTER 20
Now that Helen was expecting and her future would be consumed with the baby, her studies at Northwestern seemed less important. She dropped one class because of morning sickness, and she was struggling with motivational problems in most of her others. David was pushing her, delicately, but she wanted to take a break. She was almost thirty-four, thrilled at the prospect of becoming a mother, and losing interest quickly in a doctorate in art history.
On a frigid day in March, they were having lunch in a café near the campus when Toni Vance, Helen’s friend from class, happened to drop by. David had met her only once. She was ten years older and had two teenagers and a husband who had something to do with containerized shipping. She also had the Burmese housekeeper with a grandson who was alive but probably brain damaged. David had urged Helen to push Toni to arrange a meeting, but the housekeeper had not been cooperative. Snooping, without violating laws or anyone’s privacy, David had learned that the little boy was five years old and for the past two months had been in intensive care at the Lakeshore Children’s Hospital on Chicago’s North Side. His name was Thuya Khaing, and he had been born in Sacramento, so he was a U.S. citizen. As for his parents, David had no way of knowing their immigration status. Zaw, the housekeeper, supposedly had a green card.
“I think Zaw would talk to you now,” Toni said as she sipped an espresso.
“When and where?” David asked.
She glanced at her watch. “My next class is over at two, then I’ll go home. Why don’t you guys stop by?”
At 2:30, David and Helen parked behind a Jaguar in the driveway of a striking contemporary house in Oak Park. Whatever Mr. Vance did with containerized cargo, he did it well. The house jutted here and there, up and down, with lots of glass and marble and no discernible design. It tried desperately to be unique, and it succeeded greatly. They finally located the front door and were met by Toni, who’d found time to change outfits and was no longer trying to look like a twenty-year-old student. She led them to a sunroom with full views of the sky and clouds, and moments later Zaw entered with a tray of coffees. Introductions were made.
David had never met a Burmese woman, but he guessed her age at sixty. She was petite in her maid’s uniform, with short, graying hair and a face that seemed locked into a perpetual smile.
“Her English is very good,” Toni said. “Please join us, Zaw.” Zaw awkwardly sat on a small stool near her boss.
“How long have you been in the United States?” David asked.
“Twenty year.”
“And you have family here?”
“My husband is here, work for Sears. My son too. Work for tree company.”
“And he’s the father of the grandson who’s in the hospital?”
She nodded slowly. The smile vanished at the mention of the boy.
“Yes.”
“Does the boy have brothers and sisters?”
She flashed two fingers and said, “Two sister.”
“Have they been sick too?”
“No.”
“Okay, can you tell me what happened when the boy got sick?”
She looked at Toni, who said, “It’s okay, Zaw. You can trust these people. Mr. Zinc needs to hear the story.”
Zaw nodded and began talking, her eyes glued to the floor. “He get real tired all the time, sleep a lot, then bad pain here.” She tapped her stomach. “He cry so hard because of the pain. Then he start to vomit, every day he vomit, and he lose weight, get real skinny. We take him to doctor. They put him in hospital and he go to sleep.” She touched her head. “They think he has brain problem.”
“Did the doctor say it was lead poisoning?”
She nodded. “Yes.” No hesitation.
David nodded too as he let this soak in. “Does your grandson live with you?”
“Next door. Apartment.”
He looked at Toni and asked, “Do you know where she lives?”
“Rogers Park. It’s an old apartment complex. I think everyone there is from Burma.”
“Zaw, is it possible for me to see the apartment where the boy lives?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Why do you need to see the apartment?” Toni asked.
“To find the source of the lead. Could be in the paint on the walls or in some of his toys. It might be in the water. I should have a look.”
Zaw rose quietly and said, “Excuse me, please.” A few seconds later, she was back with a small plastic bag, from which she removed a set of pink plastic teeth, complete with two large vampire fangs. “He like these,” Zaw said. “He scare his sisters, make funny noise.”
David held the cheap toy. The plastic was hard, and some of the coloring, or paint, had chipped off. “Did you see him play with these?”
“Yes. Many time.”
“When did he get these?”
“Last year. Halloween,” she said, without the H sound. “I don’t know if it make him sick, but he use them all the time. Pink, green, black, blue, many color.”
“So there’s a whole set of these?”
“Yes.”
“Where are the others?”
“Apartment.”
———
It was spitting snow when David and Helen found the apartment complex after dark. The buildings were 1960s-style blocks of plywood and tar paper, a few bricks on the steps, a few shrubs here and there. All the units were two stories, some with boarded windows and obviously abandoned. There were a few vehicles, all ancient imports from Japan. It was easy to get the impression that the place would have been condemned, with bulldozers to follow, but for the heroic efforts of the Burmese immigrants.
Zaw was waiting at 14B and led them a few steps to 14C. Thuya’s parents looked to be about twenty years old, but were really closer to forty. They looked exhausted, sad eyed, and as frightened as any parents would be. They were appreciative that a real lawyer would come to their home, though they were terrified of the legal system and understood nothing about it. The mother, Lwin, hurried about preparing and serving tea. The father, Zaw’s son, went by Soe and, as the man of the house, did most of the talking. His English was good, much better than his wife’s. As Zaw had said, he worked for a company that did all manner of tree work. His wife cleaned offices downtown. It was obvious to both David and Helen that there had been a lot of discussion before their arrival.