Birthright

connection.”
    “The connection’s with your father,” Callie said. “And his involvement with my family. It’s very important that I locate him.”
    “I see.” He steepled his fingers, and over them his facelost its polite interest. “As this is the second inquiry about my father in the last few days, I have to assume they’re connected. I can’t help you, Ms. Dunbrook. And I’m very pressed for time, so—”
    “Don’t you want to know why?”
    He let out what might have been a sigh. “Quite frankly, Ms. Dunbrook, there’s little you could tell me about my father that would interest me. Now, if you’ll excuse me?”
    “He arranged for babies to be stolen, transported, then sold to childless couples who paid him large fees without being aware of the kidnappings. He drew up fraudulent adoption papers in these cases, which he never filed with any court.”
    Richard stared at her without blinking. “That’s ludicrous. And I’ll warn you such an allegation is libelous as well as preposterous.”
    “It’s neither when it’s the truth. It’s neither when there’s proof.”
    He continued to watch her with that cool blue gaze that told her he must have been a killer in court.
    “What proof could you possibly have?”
    “Myself, for a start. I was stolen as an infant and sold to a couple who were clients of your father. The exchange was made in his Boston office in December of 1974.”
    “You have misinformation,” he countered.
    “No I don’t. What I have are a lot of questions for your father. Where is he?”
    He was silent for a moment, so silent she heard him draw in a breath. “You can’t expect me to believe these criminal accusations, to stand here and take your word.”
    Callie reached in her bag. “Copies of the adoption papers. You can check. They were never filed with the court. Copies of the fees your father charged for my placement. Copies of the initial tests run to substantiate that I am the biological daughter of Jay and Suzanne Cullen, whose infant daughter was stolen, December of ’seventy-four. Police reports,” she added, nodding at the pile of papers she put on his desk. “Newspaper accounts.”
    “You should read them,” Jake suggested, then took a seat. “Take your time.”
    Richard’s fingers trembled lightly as he reached in his pocket for gold-framed reading glasses. Saying nothing, he began to go through the file.
    “This is hardly proof,” he said after a time. “You’re accusing a man of trafficking in children, of kidnapping, fraud.” He took the glasses off, set them aside. “Whatever personal problems my father and I might have, I don’t believe this of him. If you persist in these accusations, I’ll take legal action.”
    “Take it then,” Callie invited. “Because I’m not going to stop until I have all the answers. I’m not going to stop until the people responsible for what happened to the Cullens, and other families, are punished. Where’s your father?”
    “I haven’t seen my father in more than fifteen years,” Carlyle shot back angrily. “If I knew where he was, I wouldn’t tell you. I intend to look into this personally, of that you can be quite sure. I don’t believe there’s any validity in your allegations. But if I find differently, I’ll do what I can to locate my father and . . . I’ll do what I can.”
    “There have been some attempts to stop us from finding him, and those answers,” Jake stated calmly. “Physical attacks, arson.”
    “For God’s sake, he’s ninety.” As Richard’s composure wavered, he patted a hand over his hair. “The last time I saw him he was recovering from a heart attack. His health is poor. He’d hardly be in any shape to physically attack anyone or start fires.”
    “Anyone who could organize a black-market system for babies could easily hire someone to do the heavy work.”
    “I haven’t agreed that my father had anything to do with a black market. Everything I see here is supposition and circumstantial. The man I knew was a mediocre father, a complete failure as a husband and often a difficult human being. But he was a good lawyer, with a strong respect for the system and a dedication to the institution of adoption. He helped create families. He was proud of that.”
    “Proud enough to destroy some families to make others?” Callie put in. “Proud enough to play God?”
    “I said I’d look into it. I’m going to insist you cease and desist making any libelous or