Unsaid: A Novel (37 page)

Allerton turns to the jury. “I am sustaining the objection to this line of questioning. I’m directing you to disregard the photograph and any questions regarding the photograph. It was improper and should play no role in your deliberations. Do you have anything further for Dr. Vartag, Mr. Mace?”

Mace is silent for a long moment before he answers. “Can we take a brief recess?”

“Ten minutes,” Allerton says.

I used to have this dream when I was sleep-deprived from being on call too many nights in a row: I was at the animal hospital and I needed to get to the operating room for an emergency surgery on a dog that was bleeding out. Every step I took moved me farther away from the surgery table. I could see the blood, but couldn’t do anything to stanch the flow. I could only watch, helpless, horrified.

It’s that same feeling now as I stare at Cindy. She crawls a few
inches forward on the floor, the blood pouring from bullet holes in her neck and her chest. As she stretches out her arm, I can hear the sound of wind coming from her chest. She curls her fingers around the doll and pulls it close. Her lips touch the doll’s face.

Jannick crawls over to Cindy. He checks for a pulse, and his blood mixes with Cindy’s for just a moment before the guards help Jannick to a chair.

“Call an ambulance,” one of the guards directs the woman.

The force of David’s anger suddenly yanks me back to him. He grabs Jaycee by the elbow and moves her out of the courtroom and into a far corner of the hallway.

“I’m sorry,” she says as soon as they are alone.

“That’s it? You’re sorry?” David hisses.

“I totally screwed up,” she says. “I wasn’t going to do anything. I just wanted to see her through a window. I didn’t see any security cameras. They repaired the fence, so I just drove home. I didn’t think they saw me.”

“And you just chose to keep that from me? You lied to me, damn it.” David can barely control himself. “What kind of game are you playing here?”

“If I told you, this would’ve been over before it started.”

“And it should’ve been. What the hell were you thinking going back there?”

Her voice quivers. “Clearly I wasn’t thinking, okay?”

“Are you just that stupid? The whole point of calling Jannick as a witness was to get him to question his decision in light of Helena’s video. Now he’ll think you’re just a nut. Worse, you’ve confirmed his opinion of you.”

“Maybe he’ll buy your story that it was you in the car.”

“Oh, please. I saved it from going to the jury, but Jannick will
know exactly what happened. So will Vartag.” David rubs his forehead as if he’s trying to get rid of the memory of the lie he just told. “You broke the conditions of your bail and I helped you cover it up. Allerton could put you in Bedford Correctional right now if he knew the truth. I could be disbarred.”

“But he doesn’t know. And he won’t, right?”

“You’ve manipulated me from the beginning, haven’t you? Whatever it takes just to get what you want.”

“Do you really know so little about yourself? I didn’t ask you to lie for me.”

“You didn’t give me any choice.”

“All you had to do was stay silent.”

“So I can have Cindy’s blood on my hands and yours, too? So Helena can spin in her grave?”

“No, so you can choose between ending a life and saving one. Welcome to my world.”

“Maybe Jannick is right. When exactly was it that you stopped being a scientist? Before or after you rigged the ILP to save Cindy?”

Jaycee’s head snaps back from that blow. When she looks at David again, her eyes are surprisingly bright and clear. “I hope Jannick is right. I can live with lying to some judge I don’t give a damn about to save someone I love. That’s what makes me human.” Jaycee steps back from David. “How have you used the privilege of sentience, David? Tell me, what exactly is it that you’ve done to be worthy of being called ‘human’ anyway?”

David opens his mouth to respond, but nothing comes out.

“I thought so,” Jaycee snarls. “When you can answer that for me, counselor, then you can judge me.”

Jaycee brushes past my husband and back into the courtroom.

Until this very moment, I hadn’t realized that Jaycee, David, and I, each in our own way, were trying to find the answer to the same question.

The thought is drowned out by the blare of sirens. I see an ambulance carry Jannick away. He is crying—whether from pain, regret, or humility, I will never know.

In the lab, the two guards shove Cindy’s inert body into the confines of a small cage on wheels. Cindy’s eyes are open, but there’s no life within them now. Her fingers jut through the mesh of the cage as if even now she’s looking for Jaycee’s hand. Or, perhaps, mine.

The men begin to wheel her body toward the door. One of the guards drops back to the floor near the Cube. He picks up the doll that had been mine and then Cindy’s. “What should I do with this?” he asks his companion, who answers his question with a shrug. The guard tosses the doll back into the Cube.

The men push Cindy’s body through the laboratory entrance. The one who held the doll is the last to leave. He gives the lab a cursory once-over glance, turns off the lights, and then locks the door behind him. I am alone in the darkness of the lab as I listen to the echoes of their footfalls gradually fade away.

“So, anything more of Dr. Vartag?” I hear Allerton’s voice in the shadows, but I do not return to the courtroom. There is no longer any point.

“No, not at this time.” Mace’s voice rings out all around me.

“Mr. Colden, do you wish to cross-examine Dr. Vartag?”

I hear that question and the space before me brightens ever so slightly. To cross-examine—to interrogate, reveal, uncover meaning.

I get it now. This must be it. David will destroy Vartag on the stand and, in that process, finally close this circle of torment and
set me free. He will be my champion and give this whole story the meaning I’ve been seeking. This must be why I’m here, why Vartag has returned from my past, why David is representing Jaycee, why Cindy had to die, why I had to die. All so this could happen. So there would finally be meaning. Blessed, poignant meaning. Illumination. It all makes perfect sense. Beginning, middle, and now, end.

I am in the courtroom again, this time standing right beside David. The entire room pulses with anticipation. Spectators and specter somehow perceive the exact same thing.

David slowly rises to head toward the lectern in front of the jury box. Before he takes two steps, Max taps him on the sleeve. “This one is a true believer,” Max whispers. “Careful, she can hurt you.” David nods and then turns to face Vartag.

He smiles at this woman who has plagued my memory. Ha! We are coming for you, Renee, you twisted little bitch.

Vartag nods back at my husband, but it isn’t a greeting; it is permission, the kind royalty might give to a servant to allow approach.

“You’ve been involved in animal research for thirty-five years?” David begins.

“Thirty-seven, actually,” Vartag answers.

“So, how many animals have you euthanized over that time period?”

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t keep track of that—any more than I keep a tally on the number of human lives my research has saved.”

“Hundreds of animals?”

“Oh, certainly.”

“Thousands?”

“Certainly,” Vartag repeats without any hesitation.

“Tens of thousands?”

“Perhaps.”

“So many that you can’t even keep count?”

“No, that’s not it. It’s just not a relevant figure.”

“And why is that?”

Vartag shrugs. “Ten or ten thousand animals—it has absolutely no human pathological significance.”

“Meaning,” David says, picking up the thread, “if you must euthanize ten thousand animals to save a human life, then that is an acceptable result?”

“No, not only acceptable, Mr. Colden,” Vartag says. “It would be a crime of science to decide otherwise.”

“Even if those ten thousand animals are chimpanzees just like Cindy?”

“Oh, yes. Even if they’ve been trained to recite the entire Declaration of Independence. My job is to save human life. Chimpanzees will never be human. They weren’t yesterday, they aren’t today, and they won’t be tomorrow. Nothing else matters.”

David lets that answer sit for a full minute. “Thank you for your candor, Doctor,” he says. “Good luck to you. No further questions.”

Vartag walks out of the witness box and past the filled but silent benches.

Max was right. Vartag isn’t evil or disturbed, or even, I must admit now, entirely unsympathetic. She is just convinced of the correctness of her own worldview.

My Grendel has become human, and through that transformation, much more powerful. She is so powerful that I can no longer delude myself.

There is no greater hidden meaning, no golden envelope with a
mysterious life-affirming message, no silver key that unlocks a private passage. Angels do not flutter down with secret scrolls or sacred songs. There is only the continuous creation of endings. Nothing ever really gets saved. Not ever. Not Charlie, not Cindy, not David, and not me. My dream is my truth.

I suddenly feel so tired—like I’ve been treading water for days. I’ve nothing left and I’m out of time. My own pages have turned blank. All I can do now is bear mute witness to events that no longer have consequence, if ever they did.

A young man in a business suit, sweaty and out of breath, bursts into the courtroom. He scans the crowd, finds Mace, and whispers into Mace’s ear. Mace’s face turns ashen. “Are you absolutely certain?”

The young man nods.

“Anything else before closing arguments?” Allerton asks.

“Yes,” David answers. “In light of the testimony presented, we renew our request that Cindy be produced for examination by the jury. The jury should see her.”

Half the jurors nod in agreement, but the jury foreman looks at his watch and rolls his eyes.

Mace rises. “May we approach, Your Honor?”

Allerton sighs and nods. Mace and David join him.

“So.” Allerton turns to Mace. “What’s the matter now?”

“Your Honor,” Mace whispers, “you had asked us… well me, actually… to make certain representations regarding the status of the property in question and to provide notice prior to any change in condition. I’ve just learned that there’s been a change. The item in question… well, the chimpanzee…”

David drops all pretense of decorum. “What happened to her?”

Mace ignores him. “She attacked Dr. Jannick as he was preparing her for testing and she was—”

“She’s dead?” David’s question rings loud throughout the courtroom, followed immediately by a wave of confused commotion across the jurors and the benches.

“Please calm down, Mr. Colden.” All of Mace’s bravado is gone.

“Don’t tell me to calm down! What happened to her?” David makes no attempt to lower his voice and Allerton doesn’t admonish him. Everyone can hear them now.

“Answer the question, Mr. Mace,” Allerton says in a steely tone.

“She was shot and killed during the attack.”

Judge Allerton’s heretofore calm and deliberative demeanor gave no clue that he had within him the volcanic eruption of rage that comes next. “WHAT?” It is one word, but it reverberates throughout the courtroom. “YOU MADE REPRESENTATIONS TO THIS COURT, SIR. YOU MADE REPRESENTATIONS TO ME! I ALLOWED YOU TO AVOID AN ADVERSE ORDER BASED ON THOSE REPRESENTATIONS!”

There is loud sobbing somewhere behind me. It is Jaycee. I want to weep with her, but I’ve no tears left. Chris moves to comfort her.

Over the sound of Jaycee’s grief, Mace tries to stop the flow of Allerton’s words. “This was an accident. I made those representations in good faith.”

“GOOD FAITH? HOW DARE YOU USE THOSE WORDS!” Allerton lowers his voice, but only by a fraction. “You had us sitting here going through this facade while your client was acting in violation of the representation you made.”

“Not at all. It was all in good faith. I was told—”

“Be quiet!” Allerton barks.

“I understand that you’re angry, Your Honor, but—”

“You have not even begun to see me angry.”

“But—”

“Step back!”

The noise level in the courtroom is now a dull roar. Allerton bangs his gavel against the top of his desk, but it has no effect. He smacks the gavel again, this time so hard that the head snaps off and careens somewhere behind him. “Quiet now, or I will have the room cleared!”

Allerton bellows to the court reporter: “On the record now! I still have pending before me the defendant’s motion to require the prosecution to physically produce the allegedly stolen property in this courtroom for inspection. Having now heard the accumulation of the testimony, I’ve decided upon further reflection to grant that motion. Accordingly, I am directing the prosecution to produce in this court forthwith the property—a chimpanzee known as Cindy—to be examined by the jury.”

Mace rises in response. “Your Honor, you know we can’t comply with that order. As I’ve already indicated, the specimen is no longer alive.”

“According to you, Mr. Mace, she’s property. Why should it matter if she is living or dead? Produce her dead body, and I also want Dr. Vartag here to authenticate the body. She can explain to the jury how the chimpanzee became a dead chimpanzee. And tell her to wear a nice suit, because I’m also granting CNN’s request for a live courtroom feed for this part of the trial.”

Mace struggles to find his words. “A moment, Your Honor, please,” he whines and then begins heated discussion with his colleagues at his desk.

“You have sixty seconds, Mr. Mace.”

In half that time, Mace turns to Allerton and says somberly, “In light of your ruling and recent events, the United States government is withdrawing all charges against the defendant.”

Some spectators in the courtroom cheer, but the sound is ridiculous following so closely the news of Cindy’s death.

Above the noise, Allerton says, “That’s the best decision you’ve made in this whole case, Mr. Mace.” He turns to the jury. “You are discharged from further service. Thank you for your cooperation and your attention.”

Then the clerk calls “All rise,” and the entire courtroom—except my husband—is on its feet. There is a moment of silence while Allerton departs, and then David and his crew are surrounded by well-wishers and reporters. David ignores everything and everyone except my notebook. He slowly turns the pages as if he’s looking for some clue to a solution he might have missed.