"The burden of proof lies with the plaintiff," Randolph continued. "It is the defense's job to rebut the plaintiff's allegation and the testimony of the plaintiff's witnesses. Since Mr. Fasano had indicated that motivation is his key stratagem, we, the defense, must adjust accordingly and present with our witnesses an affirmation of Dr. Bowman's commitment and sacrifice throughout his entire life, beginning with a doctor kit given to him at age four, to be the best doctor and to practice the best medicine."

"Objection," Tony said. "Dr. Bowman's commitment and sacrifice during his training has no bearing on the particular case at hand."

"Mr. Bingham," Judge Davidson asked. "Will your witnesses' testimony relate Dr. Bowman's commitment and sacrifice to Patience Stanhope?"

"Absolutely, Your Honor."

"Objection overruled," Judge Davidson said. "Proceed."

"But before I outline how we plan to present our case, I'd like to say a word about Dr. Bowman's practice. Mr. Fasano described it as 'concierge medicine' and suggested the term had a pejorative connotation."

Alexis glanced back at the jury. She was concerned about Randolph 's syntax and wondered how many of the jurors could relate to the words connotation and pejorative, and, of those who could, how many would think they were pretentious. What she saw was not encouraging: The jury looked like wax figures.

"However," Randolph said, raising one of his long, manicured fingers into the air as though he was lecturing a group of naughty children. "The meaning of the word concierge in its usual sense is help or service, with no negative connotation whatsoever. And indeed that is the reason it has been associated with retainer medicine, which requires a small, up-front fee. You will hear testimony from a number of physicians that the rationale for such a practice format is to spend more time with the patient during appointments and during referrals so the patient enjoys the kind of medicine all of us laypeople would like to experience. You will hear testimony that the kind of medicine practiced in a concierge practice is the kind of medicine all doctors learn during medical school. You will also hear that its origins have come from the economic bind in traditional-practice settings that forces physicians to crowd more and more patients in a given hour to keep revenues above costs. Let me give you some examples."

It was reflex rather than conscious thought that propelled Alexis to a standing position in reaction to Randolph 's foray into dull medical economics. Excusing herself, she moved laterally along the church-like pew toward the central aisle. Her eyes briefly met those of the man who was dressed identically to Tony Fasano. He was sitting in the aisle seat directly across as Alexis exited her row. His expression and unblinking stare unnerved her but then immediately dropped out of her consciousness. She headed to the door to the hall and opened it, trying to be as quiet as possible. Unfortunately, the heavy door made a click heard all around the courtroom. Momentarily mortified, she stepped out into the hall and then walked out into the large elevator lobby. Sitting on a leather-covered bench, she rummaged in her shoulder bag for her cell phone and turned it on.

Realizing she had poor reception, she took the elevator down to the ground floor and walked back out into the sunlight. After being indoors, she had to squint. To avoid the smog of cigarette smoke from the nicotine addicts sprinkled around the courthouse entrance, she walked a distance until she was by herself. Leaning on a railing with her bag over her shoulder and tucked safely under her arm, she scrolled through her phone's electronic address book until she came to her older brother's entries. Since it was after two in the afternoon, she used his work number at the Chief Medical Examiner's Office in New York City.

As the call went through, Alexis tried to remember exactly when the last occasion had been that she'd called and talked with Jack. She couldn't remember but knew it had to have been months, maybe as much as half a year ago, as much as she'd been consumed by her family's disarray. Yet even prior to that there'd been only intermittent, haphazard contact, which was unfortunate because she and Jack had been extremely close as children. Life had not been easy for Jack, specifically fifteen years previously when his wife and two daughters, aged ten and eleven, had been killed in a commuter plane crash. They had been on their way home to Champaign, Illinois, after having visited Jack in Chicago, where he was retraining in forensic pathology. When Jack moved east to New York City, ten years previously, Alexis had been hopeful they would see a lot of each other. But it hadn't happened because of what she'd said to Craig earlier. Jack was still struggling to get over his tragedy, and Alexis's children were a painful reminder. Alexis's oldest daughter, Tracy, had been born one month after Jack's tragic loss.

"This better be important, Soldano," Jack said without so much as a hello after answering the phone. "I'm not getting anything done."

"Jack, it's Alexis."

"Alexis! Sorry! I thought it was my NYPD detective friend. He's just called me several times on his cell from his car but keeps getting cut off."

"Is it a call you need to take? I can call you back."

"No, I can talk to him later. I know what he wants, which we don't have yet. We have him well trained, so he's enamored with the power of forensics but he wants results overnight. What's up? It's good to hear from you. I never expected it would be you at this hour."

"I'm sorry I'm calling while you're at work. Is this a good time to chat, apart from your detective friend trying to get ahold of you?"

"Well, to be honest, I do have a waiting room full of patients. But I suppose they can wait since they're all dead."

Alexis giggled. Jack's new humorously sarcastic persona, which she'd experienced only a few times, was a marked change from his prior self. He'd always had a sense of humor, but in the past it was more subtle and frankly rather dry.

"Is everything okay up there in Beantown? It's not like you to call during the day. Where are you, at work at the hospital?"

"Actually, I'm not. You know, I'm embarrassed to say I can't remember the last time we spoke."

"It was about eight months ago. You called me to tell me Craig had come back home. As I recall, I wasn't all that optimistic about things working out and said so. Craig has always struck me as not much of a family man. I remember saying he was someone who made a great physician but not much of a father or husband. I'm sorry if that hurt your feelings."

"Your comments surprised me, but you didn't hurt my feelings."

"When I didn't hear back from you, I thought I had."

You could have called me if you'd thought as much, Alexis thought but did not say. Instead, she said, "Since you asked, things are not so good up here in Beantown."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I hope my prophecy hasn't come to pass."

"No, Craig is still at home. I don't think I mentioned last time we talked that Craig has been sued for malpractice."

"No, you didn't mention that tidbit. Was this after he'd come back or before?"

"It's been a difficult time for all of us," Alexis said, ignoring Jack's question.

"I can imagine. What's hard to imagine is him getting sued with as much of himself as he directs toward his patients. Then again, in the current medical-legal malpractice environment, everybody is at risk."

"The trial has just started today."

"Well, wish him good luck. Knowing his need to be number one in the class, I imagine he's taken what amounts to public censure pretty hard."

"That's an understatement. Being sued for malpractice is difficult for all doctors, but for Craig it is especially tough in terms of his self-esteem. He put all his eggs in one basket. The last eight months have been pure hell for him."