LITMIR.BIZ

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by destroying that sperm, you have destroyed Louie Demerchant’s dream of having a great-grandchild through the surrogate mother of his choice, haven’t you, yes or no?”

      “Yes.”

      “Mr. Binick, because of your mistake, you have literally doomed the distinguished Demerchant family line to extinction, haven’t you, yes or no?”

      “Well...no.”

      “No?” Marc repeated, barely able to believe his ears. “Mr. Binick, did you or did you not just admit that Bio-Sperm destroyed David Demerchant’s sperm?”

      “Well, yes, but—”

      “But, nothing. It was the only chance that the Demerchant line had of continuing. Now there’ll never be a child to carry on the Demerchant name. Isn’t that true?”

      “Well, none to carry on the name, perhaps. But—”

      “Perhaps? Mr. Binick, when I took your deposition two months ago, you said none of those six women conceived from David’s sperm. Are you trying to say now that one of them did?”

      “Oh, no. None of those women conceived. That’s why the lab technician tested the sperm, destroyed it and inactivated David’s computer file, as I said. That’s also the reason why it wasn’t until last week, when we were updating and cross-checking our files, that we found her, you see.”

      “Found her. Found who?”

      “I have a computer printout of her record right here,” Binick said, his sweaty hands diving into his pocket, dragging out a piece of folded paper that he subsequently shoved at Marc. “See?”

      Marc took the paper, unfolded it and quickly perused its contents. “All I see is a bunch of computer codes, Mr. Binick. What is this supposed to mean?”

      “It’s all the details about the seventh client. She didn’t get on David’s computer file because at the same time the recipient was receiving David’s sperm, another lab technician was testing David’s sperm, ordering it destroyed, and inactivating his file. That’s also why the positive take wasn’t subsequently recorded.”

      “Positive take? Mr. Binick, are you saying this seventh woman received David Demerchant’s sperm and conceived?”

      Binick rubbed his tiny scale of a nose as his thin, pushed-out face spread into its first smile. “She not only conceived, Mr. Truesdale, she gave birth to David Demerchant’s baby nine months later.”

      Marc stared at Binick, mute in his shock, unable to ask another question for several seconds. It was just as well. He wouldn’t have been heard anyway. The courtroom had exploded with the impact of Binick’s dropped bomb.

      A few members of the press, who had commandeered most of the spectator seats, were jumping up and heading for the door, eager to be the first to get out the news. The judge rapped and called for order, but to no immediate avail. Only after she threatened to clear the courtroom did the spectators begin to quiet down.

      And all the time Marc’s thoughts were in a whirl as he contemplated the far-reaching ramifications of what this witness had just said.

      A woman had given birth to David’s baby? A part of his friend had survived, after all? No, it was too fantastic. It couldn’t be true. Binick had to be pulling a fast one.

      Marc’s eyes swung to his client. Louie Demerchant was staring hard at Binick. Gone was the cold, bitter despair that had dwelt in the faded gray eyes for the past two years. In its place was something that looked suspiciously like hope.

      Damn. Of course Louie wanted to believe it. What man in his position wouldn’t? Which was why Binick was perpetrating this fraud. And that’s when Marc realized just how cruel a deception this was. He could taste the heat of growing anger on his tongue.

      Finally, the courtroom quieted and the judge motioned for Marc to proceed. He wasted no time.

      “Mr. Binick, let me get this straight. You’re now saying that your misuse of David Demerchant’s sperm has produced a child?”

      “Yes.”

      Marc leaned as close to his witness as he dared and let the sarcastic sneer come through in his voice. “Do you really expect this court to believe that after two years of being certain that David Demerchant’s sperm was destroyed without issue, a week before this trial you just happened to find this seventh woman who just happened to have conceived from David Demerchant’s sperm?”

      Binick rubbed his hands nervously across the chair arms. Fresh sweat popped out on his upper lip. He had a scared-but-resolute look in his eyes.

      “I know it defies the odds, Mr. Truesdale. But, well, it happened, so it just proves that long shots do come in sometimes.”

      “The odds against this long shot coming in must defy all the probabilities of chance,” Marc said in a cold, cutting voice.

      “Your Honor, I object,” Sato said.

      “Sustained,” the judge said.

      “What is the name of this woman?” Marc demanded.

      “Remy Westbrook.”

      “And you claim this Remy Westbrook came to Bio-Sperm for impregnation and was given David Demerchant’s sperm?”

      “I don’t just claim it. I know it to be true.”

      “How do you know it?”

      “By our records, of course.”

      “Would those be the same records that caused you to misdirect David Demerchant’s sperm to the donor banks, and which ultimately led to its destruction?”

      Binick sank again in his chair. “I explained how that mistake happened.”

      “Yes, you put the wrong name on a form. What makes you so sure you haven’t entered another wrong name on Mrs. Westbrook’s form?”

      “I showed you the computer printout. Her record doesn’t have a name, it has David Demerchant’s code. This is not a mistake. She got David Demerchant’s sperm. I swear it.”

      “You swear it. Like you swore to Louie Demerchant that you would preserve his grandson’s sperm? What good is your word, Mr. Binick? You were ready to pass off someone else’s sperm as David’s!”

      The slithering tongue darted out once more. “It was a joke. I told you that! I wouldn’t have really done it! I’m truly devastated about what happened.”

      “You’re truly devastated. How do you think Louie Demerchant feels?”

      “But there is a child now! He has a great-grandchild!”

      “That remains to be proved, Mr. Binick. How well do you know this Remy Westbrook?”

      “I don’t know her. She’s just a computer record to me. But my attorney has arranged for her to be present here today in anticipation that you might wish to talk to her. She’s waiting outside this courtroom right now.”

      Marc swung toward the bench. “Your Honor, I would like to interrupt my examination of this witness to call this Mrs. Westbrook to the stand.”

      “Does the defense have any objection?” the judge asked.

      “No,” Sato replied.

      “Then bring her in, bailiff.”

      Binick slid out of the witness chair and slunk back to the defense table. Like everyone else in the packed courtroom, Marc faced toward the back, eager to see this woman. He didn’t for a moment believe this preposterous story. He’d get to the bottom of it even if it meant tearing her to shreds on the stand.

      She was either dumb and had been duped, or she’d been paid to lie. Either way, he was prepared to deal with her; he knew what to expect.

      Or at least he thought

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