Last lullaby

by Alice Walsh

  Lauren nodded, her eyes fixed on Officer Harrison, who was leading Anya to the cruiser. Only after he had put her in the back seat and closed the door did Lauren turn to Rebecca. “Bram’s been shot,” she said. “He’s inside. You better call an ambulance.”

  “Bram Warren?” Rebecca stared at her. Why would Dr. Warren be involved? But she knew there’d be time for questions later. “Call an ambulance, Kyle,” she shouted. “Dr. Warren’s been shot.”

  Kyle started toward the house. “Keep Dr. Kaminsky covered,” he told Rebecca.

  Nodding, Rebecca turned her attention back to Lauren. “Anyone else inside the house?”

  “An elderly Russian woman.”

  At that moment, a thin wail came from the partially opened car window. Rebecca wasn’t sure if it was human or animal.

  “The baby!” Lauren hurried to the car. “I forgot about the baby.” She threw open the door, peeled off her jacket, and wrapped it around the crying infant.

  “Jade’s baby?” Rebecca asked.

  Cradling the baby against her chest, Lauren walked toward Rebecca. “Jade’s baby is dead, Rebecca. This is Ariel Warren.”

  Rebecca shot her a pitying look. Victims of trauma often said bizarre things. She put a comforting hand on Lauren’s arm. “It’s Ariel who died, Lauren, not Cara.”

  Lauren gently rubbed the baby’s back. “No, Rebecca,” she said, “Bram and Anya switched babies.”

  Rebecca stared at her blankly.

  Lauren removed the coat from around the baby’s face. “It’s Ariel. See?”

  Rebecca had never seen the Warren baby, but from the pictures on display at the service, she’d been struck by how much Ariel looked like Claire. This baby had the same large dark eyes. But no, it couldn’t be. She shook her head. She had attended the Warren baby’s funeral, for heaven’s sake. Why would Anya and Bram switch babies?

  “I imagine they were planning to take Ariel to Alaska,” Lauren said, answering Rebecca’s unasked question.

  Rebecca’s mind reeled. This case was becoming more and more bizarre.

  For the second time that day, Lauren recounted the incident at Hansel and Gretel’s. She told Rebecca about Bram bringing photographs to Claire’s apartment.“When I saw the same dress on the rack this morning, it all came together.”

  “It’s the little things criminals do that give them away,” Rebecca said, talking as much to herself as to Lauren. But no, she decided. It wasn’t possible. Bram and Anya couldn’t have pulled off something like that. How could they?

  Lauren hugged the baby close. “I’m just happy Ariel’s safe,” she said. “I’m sure all the details will come to light in time.”

  —

  Less than an hour later they were at the police station, where Lauren gave a signed statement. Ariel was on her way to the hospital to be examined. “She seems healthy and happy, but we’re following procedure,” Rebecca explained.

  Lauren nodded, impressed by the officers’ efficiency. A caseworker from child protection services had been called, and DNA tests were underway. Although there was little doubt the baby was Ariel, the department wanted absolute proof. They had taken DNA samples from Bram before he was transferred to the hospital in St. John’s.

  “When will you contact Claire?” Lauren could barely resist the urge to pick up the phone. She was dying to tell Claire that Ariel was alive and well.

  “We need to wait for the DNA tests to come back,” Rebecca told her. “It shouldn’t take more than twenty-four hours. As soon as we get the results, we’ll contact Claire.”

  “She’s going to get the shock of her life.”

  Chapter 39

  Claire was sitting at the kitchen table having tea with Mitch when she got the phone call.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Claire Ste Denis?”

  “Yes, speaking.”

  “It’s Constable Rebecca Taylor from the RCMP. We need you to come to the station.”

  “Do you have information about Ariel?” Claire recalled the strange message Lauren had left on her voice mail yesterday. She had tried to get in touch with Lauren but got no answer.

  “Yes,” the constable replied, “but I’ll explain when you get here.”

  “What about Bram? Should I call him, let him know?”

  “Well…we’ve already spoken with your husband.”

  “Okay,” Claire said. “I’ll be along shortly.” With trembling hands, she replaced the receiver.

  Mitch came to stand beside her, a questioning look on his face.

  “They want me at the police station.” Claire bit her lip. “They must have new information about Ariel’s death.”

  Mitch laid a hand on her arm. “Well, that’s good news.”

  Claire nodded. “If it sheds light on her death, it might eliminate me as a suspect.” She had waited for this moment, wished and prayed for it. But now she felt her stomach tighten. Was she ready to face whatever had happened to her baby?

  Mitch squeezed her shoulder. “Would you like me to accompany you to the police station?”

  “Thanks, but that won’t be necessary.” Claire forced a smile. “I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.”

  —

  At the station, Claire was ushered into a room with comfortable chairs and sofas. Cinder-block walls, painted bright purple, had posters and notices taped to them. It reminded her of her dorm during her undergraduate days at McGill.

  Lauren and Rebecca rose simultaneously from an overstuffed couch when Claire came into the room.

  “Hello, Claire,” Rebecca said. “Have a seat.”

  “What’s going on?” she asked, her eyes fixed on Lauren. “I got your message, and I returned your call. Daniel said you went to Duffy’s Mountain. You said you knew what happened to Cara and Ariel.”

  Lauren and Rebecca exchanged glances.

  “Did they find the Roberts baby?” Claire asked.

  Rebecca shook her head. “No,” she said, her voice sad. “But we have a good idea what happened to her.” She glanced quickly at Lauren.

  “Claire,” Lauren began, “do you remember the photographs Bram brought to your apartment the day after they found Jade’s body?”

  “Well…yes.” Why was Lauren bringing that up now? And where was Bram? Officer Taylor said they’d contacted him.

  “Ariel was wearing a dress you didn’t recognize,” Lauren continued.

  “What’s that got to do with anything?” Claire said, an edge of impatience creeping into her voice.

  “That dress was bought after Ariel died,” Lauren continued. “Well…not after….” She looked at Rebecca. “I’m not doing a very good job articulating this.”

  “Just tell her,” Rebecca urged.

  Lauren took a deep breath. “Claire…Ariel is alive.”

  Claire looked at them, bewildered.

  “It was Cara, Jade’s baby, who died. Not Ariel. Anya and Bram switched the two babies.”

  Claire stared past them, trying to fathom what she was hearing.

  “They were keeping Ariel at Duffy’s Mountain,” Lauren hurried on. “Rebecca and I brought her back yesterday. She’s here at the station. A caseworker from child protection services is with her right now.”

  Claire continued to stare. What were they saying?

  “We’ve made a positive identification through DNA,” Rebecca said.

  “Positive identification,” Claire echoed dumbly.

  “Dr. Ste Denis,” Rebecca said, putting a hand on Claire’s arm, “we know how bizarre this must seem, but your child is alive.”

  “Claire—” Lauren began.

  From a partially open door down the hallway, a baby’s wail pierced the air.

  “Ariel!” Claire shot from the chair, looking wildly around. She knew that cry. Even in the hospital nursery
with dozens of other babies, she had known Ariel’s cry.

  Rebecca stood up. “Follow me,” she said.

  On rubbery legs, Claire followed Lauren and Rebecca down the hallway. She could barely breathe.

  “In here,” Rebecca said, leading her into a room where a caseworker was watching the baby. Ariel was in a carrier on top of a desk.

  In one swift movement, Claire had her baby in her arms. “Ariel,” she kept repeating over and over, cradling her child against her breast. How many times had she fantasized about this moment? She would have given anything just to hold her baby for five minutes, to feel the softness of her tiny body. This was beyond her wildest dreams. Was she dreaming? Would she wake up to find that Ariel had disappeared again? Claire looked from Rebecca to Lauren. Both of them had tears in their eyes. “But…how…?”

  “We’re still putting together the details,” Rebecca said. “There will be a hearing. Bram and Anya will be tried. You will need to prepare a statement for the media. When the time is right, I can put you in touch with our public relations department.” She shook her head. “The press is going to have a time with this.”

  Chapter 40

  Three weeks later

  Lauren sat on the hard wooden bench between Claire and Mitch. The courthouse was packed, and people were standing outside the door. Cameras were not permitted inside, but dozens of journalists were jotting down notes. “All rise,” the bailiff said as the judge entered the courtroom, his robes flowing like black sails.

  Spectators waited in anticipation as the Crown prosecutor called Andrew Collins to the stand. They hadn’t expected Andrew to be well enough to be here today, but he was eager to testify. It was the first time Lauren had seen him since her visit to the hospital over a month ago. His movements were slow and jerky as he made his way to the witness stand. He was still pale, and had lost so much weight his dark blue suit hung from his gaunt frame.

  “Dr. Collins,” the prosecutor began after Andrew had been sworn in, “when did you suspect that Dr. Anya Kaminsky was giving her patient, Claire Ste Denis, large doses of major tranquilizers?”

  “It was while Professor Ste Denis was in remand,” Andrew stated. “I was filling in for Dr. Kaminsky, who was out of town.” Andrew paused before continuing. “I noticed the patient was experiencing involuntary movements of the mouth and face, symptoms consistent with Phenothiazine use. I ordered blood work, and my suspicions were confirmed.”

  “And what did you do then?”

  “I approached Dr. Kaminsky to inquire why a patient diagnosed with postpartum depression was given an anti-psychotic drug.”

  “What was the doctor’s explanation?”

  “She basically told me to mind my own business.” Andrew glanced at Anya sitting in the front row with her lawyers. “I decided to speak with Dr. Bram Warren, Claire’s husband. He has an office in our clinic. Before I had a chance to speak with him, I witnessed something unusual…I was working late one evening when I saw Dr. Warren and Dr. Kaminsky embrace. At first I thought nothing of it; Bram was her friend and colleague, and he’d just suffered a terrible loss. But then I saw him kiss her.” Another pause. “It was not the kind of kiss one gives a friend.”

  Lauren was aware of a disapproving hum around her.

  “Did either one of them see you?”

  “I don’t think so,” Andrew answered. “However, I became suspicious after that. I began to wonder if Anya and Bram were giving Claire drugs that interfered with her memory in order to keep her in a stupor. I think Dr. Kaminsky suspected I knew what was going on.”

  “Did you tell anyone about this?”

  “I arranged a meeting with Claire’s lawyer, Lauren LaVallee.” Andrew glanced to the back of the courtroom. “Before I had a chance to meet with her, I was shot.”

  After a few more questions, the Crown excused Andrew. “Thank you, Dr. Collins, you may step down.”

  “Your Honour,” the Crown said, “at this time I would like to call Dr. Bram Warren to the stand.”

  All eyes followed Bram as he made his way to the witness stand. He looked almost as thin as Andrew, Lauren thought. His clothes were shabby, his face shadowed by a two-day stubble. He’d been freed on bail, but faced charges of kidnapping, obstructing justice, and accessory to murder.

  “When did your affair with Dr. Kaminsky begin?” the prosecutor asked after Bram was sworn in.

  “It was a couple of months before Ariel’s birth. At first, it was nothing more than a fling, but I grew to love Anya. She was moving to Alaska and I wanted to be with her.” Bram swallowed nervously. “I knew custody would be an issue. Claire would never let me take Ariel so far away. I couldn’t imagine only seeing my daughter once or twice a year.” Bram paused. “Following Ariel’s birth, Claire suffered from depression. Anya prescribed drugs. Later, she prescribed more powerful tranquilizers. The intent was to make Claire unstable, make her an unfit parent in the eyes of the court. That way, I’d be granted full custody of Ariel.” Bram looked down at his knuckles. “Later, we made plans to kidnap her. It would have been easy. My wife was usually drugged. Our plan was for Anya to go ahead to Alaska, and I would follow a few months later. Anya’s Aunt Olga would care for Ariel until I could get her out of the country. Olga doesn’t speak English, doesn’t listen to radio or television. We had arranged the kidnapping for early April, but…” Bram looked nervously around the courtroom before continuing. “A dead baby became available, and we decided to make a switch.”

  Although everyone in the courtroom knew the story, there was a collective gasp.

  The Crown nodded, urging Bram to continue.

  “Jade Roberts had left her baby alone in her apartment. She said she returned to find the baby wasn’t breathing. She called Anya in a panic.” Bram rubbed his chin. “Jade said nothing about shaking her baby, or abusing her in any way. Anya warned her that she could go to jail for a very long time for child endangerment. She gave Jade money, urged her to move away.” He shook his head grimly. “But Jade became a problem. Anya was afraid she would talk.”

  “Dr. Warren, take me through that day when you and Dr. Kaminsky switched babies.”

  “Anya called to tell me a baby had died of SIDS. She tried to convince me that switching babies would be better than kidnapping Ariel.” Bram looked down at his hands. “If everyone believed Ariel was dead, there’d be no reason to search for her. No faces on milk cartons or age-enhanced photographs. There would be closure for Claire.”

  “And you agreed?”

  “Initially, I had doubts,” Bram admitted. “But we discussed it. Anya pointed out that no one at the hospital was going to question the baby’s identity. The more we talked, the more convinced I became that it would work.”

  “What about your wife, Dr. Warren? Weren’t you afraid she would demand to see her child’s body?”

  “The drugs Anya prescribed for Claire had the effect of a frontal lobotomy,” Bram explained. “She became very docile, and couldn’t remember anything from one day to the next.”

  Lauren felt Claire stiffen beside her.

  “Bastard,” Mitch muttered.

  “When Anya brought the Roberts baby’s body to our house, Claire was out like a light,” Bram continued. “Anya dressed the dead baby in Ariel’s clothes before laying her in the crib. She drove Ariel to Duffy’s Mountain to stay with Olga. I went back to the hospital where I had surgery scheduled. We had decided that I would come home, find the baby, and call 911.” Bram looked around the courtroom before continuing. “We didn’t realize Claire would wake up before I had a chance to carry out my plan.” Bram took a sip of water before continuing. “Anya called, said she had no choice but to call the emergency team. I urged her to get to the house as soon as possible. I thought she could arrive before the ambulance. I told her to give Claire Rohypnol. With the combination of other drugs she was taking, she wouldn’t remember anything.”


  Lauren shook her head. Rohypnol, the “date rape drug,” was a powerful sedative. On two occasions women had come to her believing they had been given it. They had no memory of the events leading up to it. It was little wonder Claire couldn’t remember anything from that day.

  “Anya arrived just minutes after the ambulance,” Bram said. “During all the confusion, she was able to get Claire upstairs and sedate her.”

  The Crown frowned as Bram went on.

  “The most difficult decision,” Bram said, unprompted, “was to let Claire’s parents view the body. I was afraid they’d suspect it wasn’t their grandchild. But as Anya pointed out, they hadn’t seen Ariel in months. Besides, Ariel and the dead baby were the same size and had the same colouring.”

  “What baffles me, Dr. Warren, is how Dr. Kaminsky could misdiagnose the cause of death.” The prosecutor paused. “I’m certainly no expert in the field of medicine, but I know abusive head trauma is much different than sudden infant death syndrome. Wouldn’t there be bleeding in the eyes, bruises on the neck—”

  Lauren winced at the thought of Jade taking out her frustrations on her innocent child.

  “I didn’t examine the body,” Bram said, “but Anya was convinced it was SIDS.” His lips tightened. “Or so she said. I now wonder if Anya deliberately misdiagnosed the baby’s death. She was jealous of Claire, and I think she might have wanted her to be arrested. She knew there’d be an autopsy since the child died under questionable circumstances.”

  The prosecutor moved closer to the witness stand. “Dr. Warren, even after your wife was arrested, you did not come forward,” he said, with a strong note of reproach.

  “No,” Bram said. “But I made sure my wife had a good lawyer. I wanted to make sure she didn’t go to jail. Claire didn’t deserve that. And besides…I would always be the doctor whose wife murdered her baby.”