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Liz was scheduled to give a deposition on Tuesday morning in the case of the man, suffering with Alzheimer’s disease that had been abandoned at the fair. The man’s daughter, Laura Bedrosian, faced charges of abandonment and fraud in connection with her father’s care and for the murder of her mother. Her lawyer was building a defense of temporary insanity, or post-traumatic stress disorder, due to the prolonged physical, mental, and sexual abuse he claimed she had suffered as a child.
Liz had felt obligated to divulge to the DA the accusation that the man’s older daughter made before she took him back east with her. Miriam Davis claimed that Bedrosian had also molested her as a young girl. Because of the rules of discovery, the DA was then required to give the information to Laura Bedrosian’s lawyer. That was whom Liz had to give the deposition for that day.
She dressed in black pants and a matching suit jacket over a red shirt, with low-heeled black leather shoes. Sitting across the table from Liz as she answered the lawyer’s questions, Laura Bedrosian blankly stared at her. Liz suspected she was on medication, although even before her confession, Laura seemed somewhat disconnected from the world around her. She wondered if Miriam would be coming out to give a deposition as well, if Laura’s attorney would subpoena her to testify during the trial.
When she returned from the deposition, Alice had the information that Liz requested. Hal Ramsey’s law offices were near the courthouse. She called and the receptionist put her through to Mr. Ramsey’s secretary. Liz explained that she wanted to ask some questions about Ellen Goodman, and would probably not take very long. The secretary said that Mr. Ramsey would have a few minutes around 3 p.m.
Robert Goldberg, grandson of Angelo, owned Goldberg Construction. The receptionist put Liz through directly to Mr. Goldberg. He answered with a gruff voice that sounded like he had smoked too many cigarettes in his life. When she told him that she wanted to ask questions about Ellen Goodman, he began laughing.
“You’re kidding, right? Ellen Goodman, as in my grandfather’s mistress? What do you want to know about her?”
“Well, I would really like to talk about that in person. Would you have any time today that I could drop by?”
“Sure, I’m free all morning. I’m not sure what I can tell you, though. I never met the woman.”
Goldberg Construction had a suite of offices on the third floor of a four-story professional building downtown. Liz identified herself to the receptionist and showed her badge. The receptionist brought to mind the description “mousy.” Her lank, dull brown hair hung to her shoulders, partially covering her face when she looked down, which she seemed to do a lot. Her large glasses made her brown eyes look bigger. Even her clothing was nondescript. She called Mr. Goldberg on the intercom and he told her to bring Liz back to his office.
The offices were tastefully decorated in muted earth tones, with expensive paintings providing color. Robert Goldberg stood and came around his large desk to shake hands with Liz. He was in his early fifties, a big man with a craggy face. His dark brown hair was going gray at the temples, but his shaggy eyebrows were still the same dark brown. He was wearing a white dress shirt with a maroon tie and dark gray pants, the matching jacket hung over the back of his chair. Liz settled in a chair as he sat back down behind his desk. She declined his offer of coffee. He dismissed the mousy receptionist and she scurried away.
“So what can I do for you,” he asked.
“I’m not sure, actually. I’m just trying to get some background information on Ellen Goodman.”
“Is the old gal still alive? My grandfather passed in ’95, at the ripe old age of ninety-one, and I’ve never heard anything about her.”
“Yes, she’s still alive, and in a nursing home. She’s ninety-seven and in poor health, from what I gather. You say you never met her?”
“No, but I admit my brothers and I used to sneak over to that clinic of hers. We’d hang out across the street and try to get a look at Granddad’s ‘floozy’... to use the polite word my grandmother had for her.”
“Your grandmother knew about her?”
“Everybody knew about her. No one talked about her, of course... unless they thought us kids weren’t listening. And believe me, we listened to everything we could about her. Between Granddad’s connection to the mob and this doctor he squired around town, that was the most excitement we had around here.”
“Your grandfather was connected to the mob?”
“Oh sure. He claimed he broke away from all that when he came here, but there were always rumors that he still did favors for them. His grandfather was a big-time don back in New Jersey. His father was this Jewish accountant that worked for him and married the don’s daughter. When Granddad was in his twenties, his father and grandfather were both murdered... gunned down by a rival mob. Granddad left it all behind and came out here. He started this business and as far as we all knew, it was all legitimate. Whether those rumors were true or not, I can’t tell you.”
“What did you hear about his relationship with Dr. Goodman?”
“Well, he was old world, you know? It’s just what men do. And I guess Grandma must have been old world, too. I overheard her complaining to my mother or aunts about it, but she never would have left him. I’m not sure what the attraction was. I’ve seen pictures of my grandmother when she was young and she was a beauty. The doctor wasn’t bad looking. She must have been in her fifties back when we used to spy on her, and she was still a handsome woman. But not the knockout my grandmother was. They were together for a long time, so I guess she was meeting some need for him. I know it started before I was born and continued up until he died. She didn’t go see him in the hospital or go to the funeral or anything. But I know he was still seeing her up until he had his stroke.”
“I understand that your grandfather did some work for Dr. Goodman?”
“Right. We’ve still got the plans on file here. He built an apartment building for her back in the fifties. Then in the seventies he did some remodeling.”
“You said there were rumors about your grandfather doing favors for the mob. Do you think there’s any possibility that he and the doctor were involved in anything illegal?”
“Like what?”
“Like selling babies?”
Robert rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I don’t know. I think my grandfather really did want to be a legitimate businessman. Any ‘favors’ he might have done for organized crime would have to have been because it was somehow family-related and he felt obligated. I don’t really see him going into some kind of black-market baby-selling thing with Goodman. But I guess it’s possible. Why? You have some evidence that was going on?”
“Not really, at least not yet. I just have someone who was delivered by Dr. Goodman and the doctor can’t explain why the mother she listed on the birth certificate was not the biological mother. There may be some other explanation.”
“I wish I could help you, but like I said... I never met her. Granddad never talked about her. All I know about her is what I've read in the papers and what I overheard my grandmother say... and those were completely different views of the woman. According to the papers, she was a Mother Theresa but my grandmother said she was a whore.”
Liz smiled and stood up. “Well, thank you for your time. I don’t know if it’s been helpful, but it has been interesting.”
“Sure, anytime. If you have any other questions, give me a call. I’ll tell you whatever I can.”
Liz returned to the station after having a sandwich in the cafeteria with Alice and talking about family and the case. Liz admitted that so far there wasn’t much of a case. Whatever happened the night Linda Thomas was born, Liz had not come up with anything to indicate any illegal activity.
“Well,” Alice mused, “except for what Linda’s mother told her. I mean, that has to mean something, doesn’t it? She could have just told Linda she was adopted. Or if Dr. Goodman’s theory is right, she could have told her that she was the product of her father’s affair. But what she told her was pretty specific. Why would she do that if it wasn’t true?”
“Good point,” Liz said. “And maybe it happened exactly the way she said. But I don’t have any proof, and no way of finding out who Linda’s real parents were.”
“You’ll figure it out. I can see you’re intrigued and I know you... you won’t be able to let it go until you find out the truth.”
“Maybe I can’t let it go, but I don’t know about Sarge. Or the lieutenant. He will probably want me to drop it soon if I don’t find anything.”
“Then you better get back to work and find something quick,” Alice teased.
Liz went back to her desk and did some paperwork until it was time to go and meet Hal Ramsey. Ramsey was sixty-two, tall, silver-haired, blue-eyes, and very distinguished. Liz thought if she were on a jury, she would believe anything this man said. He offered her coffee, which she declined, before sitting down behind his desk.
“Now, this is about Aunt Ellen,” he asked.
“Aunt Ellen? Are you related to her?”
“Oh no. But she was very good friends with my parents and I’ve known her all my life. I’ve always called her Aunt Ellen. What is it you are investigating?”
Liz repeated the story of Linda reporting her mother’s claims about her birth, feeling as though she had told this story a million times already.
“And what makes you think she wasn’t simply adopted? I know my father worked with Aunt Ellen on several private adoptions.”
“Because there is no record of an adoption, no sealed birth certificate. There's only one birth certificate listing the parents who raised this woman. We know that the mother wasn't her biological mother.”
Ramsey was silent for several long moments, his forehead furrowed in concentration.
“Well,” he said finally. “I don’t know the answer, either. But if you think Aunt Ellen was selling babies and falsifying birth certificates... I don’t believe it for one minute. She was always the gentlest, most loving woman. She babysat for my sisters and me frequently. Sometimes we spent an entire weekend at her house. She loves children and over the years gave a lot to various charities, as well as to individuals needing help. I just don’t see her doing anything like that.”
“I was afraid you were going to say that,” Liz sighed. “That’s the kind of thing I’ve been hearing from people who knew her.”
“Have you talked to Aunt Ellen yourself?”
“Yes I have, and she denies it. But then, if it were true, she wouldn’t likely admit it, would she?”
“Why not? I mean, at this late stage, there isn’t much anyone can do to her legally. Why not come clean if she really did it? The Ellen Goodman I know is pretty fearless. I think if there were anything to it, at this point she would tell what she knows.”
“OK, well, thank you for your time, Mr. Ramsey.”
Sergeant Howe stopped by her desk when she got back to the station.
“How’s that case going? Got any evidence the doctor was selling babies?”
“Nothing yet, Sarge,” Liz told him. “So far everyone that knows Dr. Goodman raves about what a saint she is. But I’ve got a couple more people I’d like to talk to. She’s got a nephew living on the family property down in Lindsay. And there’s a woman who her former office manager said went to see the doctor every year, just to talk to her. Alice got me an address on her and I’d like to see if she’ll tell me what that was all about.”
“OK, Roberts. But if you don’t come up with something in the next couple of days, you’re gonna have to close the case and tell that Graly woman there’s nothing we can do. She’s got money, she can hire her own private investigator if she wants to pursue it.”
“All right, Sarge. I’ll see if this woman has anything new to tell me.”
At five, Liz put all her notes in a folder and put it away in her desk. She was scheduled to testify the next day on a burglary case she had worked six months ago. She would probably have to wait until Thursday to follow up with Sarah Perkins.
Steve had put a beef stew in the crock pot before leaving for work that morning, and the aroma permeated the apartment when Liz got home, making her mouth water. She made a salad and garlic bread to go with it. They ate at the table in the kitchen and talked about their days. Liz told him about the new case she was working on.
“A baby-selling ring here in Fresno,” he said with a smile. “Who knew such big-city crime was going on here?”
“I don’t know for sure that it was going on. All I really know is that the woman who came to me with the complaint isn't the biological child of the woman whose name is on her birth certificate. How that happened is anyone’s guess. The doctor denies anything illegal happened.”
“So, do you believe her?”
“I don’t know. There’s something about her I really don’t like, and I’m trying not to let that cloud the issue.”
“What don’t you like?”
“She’s just got this superior attitude. It’s like she knows what I’m looking for and could tell me, but she’s having fun just watching me run in circles, trying to find the answer.” She sighed and shrugged. “I know... it doesn’t make much sense. But I just had the feeling the whole time I was talking to her that she was not being truthful and that it was all a big joke to her.”
In bed that night, Liz snuggled against Steve’s broad back and drifted to sleep thinking about her conversation with her mother. She was telling the truth; she really was happy with her life. And maybe she was finally making peace with her childhood and with her mother.