“I know my way well enough around the city. I was a student at CCNY for four years, remember?”
He stood up, came behind me, and put loving hands on my shoulders. “I am sorry, Mugure,” he said, kissing my ear. “I’ve been out of sorts lately. I’m under too much pressure at work. I got really unsettled about the agency closing down. I just can’t trace them. It’s like they never existed.”
“But, Zack, you talked to somebody. And that somebody sent you some material with wrong dates and names. You should be telling me how an adoption agency turns out to be a curio shop,” I said, no longer disguising the fact that I was not taking him at his word.
“Curios?” he said, a little puzzled.
I told him that I had been to the premises.
“One cannot tell in these days of the Internet,” he said. “Virtual offices. Outsourcing. Sometimes you get calls about products and services here in America, then you discover the call came from India. Cheaper that way.”
In the back of my mind, I was hearing echoes of Melinda’s words about virtual reality. “Melinda has looked into it. Kasla does not exist online,” I told him.
“Please don’t let it concern you. I will get to the bottom of this.”
“Should we worry about it?” I asked him, more as a statement than a question.
He went back to his seat. “Legally, we have nothing to worry about. I did everything by the book. But you get to wondering, you know . . .”
I decided to tell him about Mark, my suspicions more or less confirmed by Melinda, and urged him to be extra-careful with his friends. I hoped that would make it easier for him to talk to me about his friendship with Mark or what he truly knew about Kobi’s adoption.
“I am sorry to have added to your worries,” I found myself saying, but no sooner did I let out the words than another thought crept in. Who had told Zack about my Manhattan trip? There were only three people who knew: Melinda, Ben, and the Rhino Man. Ben had used the same words that Zack had used. The Rhino Man had looked hard at me; he had probably read my license number and traced it to me or Zack. Could Mark have seen and talked to Zack as his way of doing to my relationship what he thought I had done to his relationship with Melinda? Countless possibilities.
“Zack, who told you I was in Manhattan?”
“David,” he said without hesitation.
• • •
I decided to quit playing amateur detective. It was not as if there had been any crime. It was foolish of me to persist in pointless obstinacy, unraveling a past that posed no threats to the present. Why should I disrupt my family stability to satisfy nothing? Sometimes ignorance is bliss.
Two days later, while I was sitting in my car waiting for Kobi to finish a soccer match and feeling good about my new resolve, my cell phone rang. It was Ben.
“Ben, how kind of you to check on me. How are you?” I said. “I must apologize for the other day. I am not sure what I was thinking. The good news is that I have decided to drop the whole matter. It’s silly.”
“That’s very wise, Mugure,” Ben said after a pause. “Well, then, I suppose the information I have is not necessary.”
“What, wait, did you find something?” I said.
“It’s not much, but sometime last year, the Kasla agency was under investigation for some unusual adoption procedures. No charges were filed. Police did not have enough evidence to prosecute. The agency folded up on its own. Your questions are not enough of a basis for us to reopen the file. Unless you—or someone else—were to come up with new evidence of a crime. But the fact that it was under investigation establishes that it did exist sometime in the past. I just wanted to let you that you were not chasing a ghost, exactly.”
“Thank you, Ben. The information is interesting, but like you, I have closed the file.”
“Don’t you want to know the law firm that represented them?”
Ignorance is bliss, I told
He stood up, came behind me, and put loving hands on my shoulders. “I am sorry, Mugure,” he said, kissing my ear. “I’ve been out of sorts lately. I’m under too much pressure at work. I got really unsettled about the agency closing down. I just can’t trace them. It’s like they never existed.”
“But, Zack, you talked to somebody. And that somebody sent you some material with wrong dates and names. You should be telling me how an adoption agency turns out to be a curio shop,” I said, no longer disguising the fact that I was not taking him at his word.
“Curios?” he said, a little puzzled.
I told him that I had been to the premises.
“One cannot tell in these days of the Internet,” he said. “Virtual offices. Outsourcing. Sometimes you get calls about products and services here in America, then you discover the call came from India. Cheaper that way.”
In the back of my mind, I was hearing echoes of Melinda’s words about virtual reality. “Melinda has looked into it. Kasla does not exist online,” I told him.
“Please don’t let it concern you. I will get to the bottom of this.”
“Should we worry about it?” I asked him, more as a statement than a question.
He went back to his seat. “Legally, we have nothing to worry about. I did everything by the book. But you get to wondering, you know . . .”
I decided to tell him about Mark, my suspicions more or less confirmed by Melinda, and urged him to be extra-careful with his friends. I hoped that would make it easier for him to talk to me about his friendship with Mark or what he truly knew about Kobi’s adoption.
“I am sorry to have added to your worries,” I found myself saying, but no sooner did I let out the words than another thought crept in. Who had told Zack about my Manhattan trip? There were only three people who knew: Melinda, Ben, and the Rhino Man. Ben had used the same words that Zack had used. The Rhino Man had looked hard at me; he had probably read my license number and traced it to me or Zack. Could Mark have seen and talked to Zack as his way of doing to my relationship what he thought I had done to his relationship with Melinda? Countless possibilities.
“Zack, who told you I was in Manhattan?”
“David,” he said without hesitation.
• • •
I decided to quit playing amateur detective. It was not as if there had been any crime. It was foolish of me to persist in pointless obstinacy, unraveling a past that posed no threats to the present. Why should I disrupt my family stability to satisfy nothing? Sometimes ignorance is bliss.
Two days later, while I was sitting in my car waiting for Kobi to finish a soccer match and feeling good about my new resolve, my cell phone rang. It was Ben.
“Ben, how kind of you to check on me. How are you?” I said. “I must apologize for the other day. I am not sure what I was thinking. The good news is that I have decided to drop the whole matter. It’s silly.”
“That’s very wise, Mugure,” Ben said after a pause. “Well, then, I suppose the information I have is not necessary.”
“What, wait, did you find something?” I said.
“It’s not much, but sometime last year, the Kasla agency was under investigation for some unusual adoption procedures. No charges were filed. Police did not have enough evidence to prosecute. The agency folded up on its own. Your questions are not enough of a basis for us to reopen the file. Unless you—or someone else—were to come up with new evidence of a crime. But the fact that it was under investigation establishes that it did exist sometime in the past. I just wanted to let you that you were not chasing a ghost, exactly.”
“Thank you, Ben. The information is interesting, but like you, I have closed the file.”
“Don’t you want to know the law firm that represented them?”
Ignorance is bliss, I told
Similar Books
