"Were there only two witnesses today?" Jack asked.

"No, there were three total. Before Dr. Tardoff, Darlene, Craig's nurse, testified, and she was grilled on the 'problem patient' designation the same way Marlene had been, with the same result. During the lunch break, Randolph was furious at Craig for not having told him about it, and it's easy to understand why."

"It still boggles my mind that Craig would permit something like that in his practice."

"I'm afraid it speaks to a kind of arrogance."

"I'd be less generous. To me, it's pure stupidity, and it's certainly not going to help his cause."

"I'm amazed it's been allowed to be introduced. It's clearly prejudicial in my mind, and has nothing to do with alleged negligence. But you know what bothers me the most?"

"What?" Jack asked. He noticed that Alexis's face had flushed.

"Craig's case is going to suffer, but the secretaries' designation for those patients was actually appropriate."

"How so?" Jack asked. He couldn't help but notice that Alexis's color had deepened. This was an issue she felt strongly about.

"Because they were problem patients, each and every one of them. In fact, calling them problem patients wasn't strong enough. They were hypochondriacs of the worst sort. I know, because Craig would tell me about them. They were wasting his time. They should have gone to a psychiatrist or a psychologist, someone who could have possibly have helped them process their issues. Patience Stanhope was the worst of the lot. There had been an interval of time about a year ago when she was dragging Craig out of bed once a week to make an unnecessary house call. It was affecting the whole family."

"So you were upset about Patience Stanhope?"

"Of course I was upset. It wasn't long after that particular period when she was so demanding that Craig moved out."

Jack studied his sister's face. He knew her personality tended toward the histrionic back when they were kids, and this reaction about Patience Stanhope suggested the trait hadn't completely disappeared. She had gotten herself completely worked up.

"So you weren't sorry when she passed on?" Jack said, more as a statement than a question.

"Sorry? I was happy. I had told him he should drop her from his practice many times: find her another doctor, preferably a psychiatrist. But you know Craig. He always refused. He had no trouble referring patients to specialists for specialty care, but the idea of giving up on a patient was tantamount to failure. He couldn't do it."

"How much has he been drinking?" Jack asked to change the subject. He nodded toward Craig's motionless form. "Too much, just like every night."

Jack nodded. He knew that abuse of drugs and alcohol by doctors was not an uncommon sequela to being sued for malpractice.

"While we're on the subject, what would you like to drink?" Alexis asked. "Beer or wine? We've got both in the fridge."

"A beer would hit the spot," Jack said.

Jack got his own beer, and while Alexis busied herself with Jack's dinner, he wandered out of the kitchen area and over to the sofa. Although Craig did not move his body, his bloodshot eyes rose up and engaged Jack's.

"I'm sorry it was a discouraging day in court," Jack said, in hopes of engaging Craig in conversation.

"How much of it did you see?" Craig asked in a monotone.

"Only the testimony of your receptionist, Marlene, which was upsetting to hear."

Craig waved a hand as if he were shooing away invisible insects but didn't comment. His eyes switched back to the dead TV screen.

Jack would have liked to ask about the "PP" designation to try to fully understand the mind-set that would have allowed Craig to so something so politically incorrect and foolish, but he didn't. It wouldn't have helped anything and was just for his morbid curiosity. Alexis had been right. It had been arrogance. Craig was one of those doctors who unquestioningly thought everything he did was noble because the core of his life in terms of dedication and sacrifice was indeed noble. It was an unfortunate sense of entitlement.

With Craig incommunicative, Jack wandered back into the kitchen and then out onto the patio with Alexis while she grilled his steak. Alexis was eager to talk about something more upbeat than the malpractice suit. She wanted to hear about Laurie and the wedding plans. Jack related the basics but wasn't thrilled about the conversation, since he was feeling guilty about being in Boston and leaving all the last-minute details to Laurie. In many respects, it was an untenable position. He was fated to feel guilty no matter what he did; if he left for New York, he'd feel he was abandoning Alexis. Either way, he was slighting someone. But rather than wallow in the dilemma, he went for another beer.

Fifteen minutes later, Jack sat down at the large, round family table while Alexis put a plate of heavenly food in front of him. For herself, Alexis had made a cup of tea, and she joined him, sitting directly opposite. Craig had rallied enough to turn on the TV and was watching a local news broadcast.

"I'd like to tell you about my day," Jack said in between mouthfuls. "There's a decision to be made about my role here and what you people want me to do. I have to say, I had a rather productive afternoon."

"Craig!" Alexis called over to her husband. "I think you should turn off the life support and come over here to hear what Jack has to say. Ultimately, this is your decision."

"I don't appreciate being made fun of," Craig snapped, but he did turn off the TV with the remote. As if exhausted, he got up, picked up the scotch bottle and the glass, and walked to the table. He put the glass down first, filled it with scotch before putting the bottle down, and took a seat.

"I'm going to have to cut you off," Alexis said. She reached out for the scotch bottle and slid it out of Craig's reach.

Jack expected Craig to throw a temper tantrum about his bottle, but he didn't. Instead, he gave Alexis an overly fake smile to sarcastically thank her.

While he ate, Jack told them about his activities chronologically, and he tried to be complete. He told about going to the medical examiner's office and meeting Dr. Latasha Wylie and what she was able to tell him about exhuming a body in Massachusetts – particularly, about needing the approval of the next of kin.

"Wouldn't that be Jordan Stanhope?" Alexis questioned.

"He'll never agree," Craig said.

"Let me finish the whole story," Jack said.

Jack told about visiting the Langley-Peerson Funeral Home and his discussion with Harold Langley and getting the permit forms. He then told the Bowmans what he had learned about Jordan Stanhope.

Both Alexis's and Craig's mouths sagged open simultaneously as Jack gave them Jordan 's short biography.

Craig was the first to speak. "Do you think it is true?" he sputtered.

"Harold Langley has no reason to lie. It must be common knowledge in Brighton; otherwise, Harold Langley certainly wouldn't have told me. Funeral directors are generally and rather notoriously tight-lipped."

"Stanislaw Jordan Jaruzelski," Alexis repeated with disbelief. "No wonder he changed his name."

"I knew Jordan was younger than Patience," Craig said, but I never suspected anything like that. They acted as if they had been married for twenty-five-plus years. I'm amazed."

"I think the interesting part is that Patience was the one with the money."

"She's not the one with the money anymore," Craig commented. He shook his head with disgust. " Randolph should have discovered this. This is another example of his ineptitude. I should have demanded another lawyer."

"Normally, this is not the kind of information necessary to litigate a malpractice claim," Jack said, although he was surprised himself it didn't come out in Jordan 's deposition. "It's not relevant."