Chapter 8: Everything
Evelyn's statement ran to forty-one pages.
Patricia walked me through the key sections in a follow-up meeting the following week.
Grant did not come.
He said he would read it when he was ready.
I didn't push.
"She confirms the relationship with Voss began in 1979," Patricia said.
"She was a patient initially.
It became personal.
By 1985 she was aware that he was using his own genetic material in procedures.
She did not report it."
"Why not?"
Patricia looked at the page.
"She says — and I'm reading directly — 'I believed Harlan was providing the best possible outcome for families who had no other options.
I told myself it was a private matter between a doctor and his practice.
I told myself the children would never know, and so there was no harm.'" She set the page down.
"She also states that she suspected Grant was Voss's biological son from the time Grant was an infant.
She never confirmed it.
She says she chose not to."
"Because confirming it would have meant admitting everything else."
"Yes."
I looked at the table.
"What about the patient files?
The photograph.
Was she actively involved?"
"She had access.
She used it." Patricia's voice was careful and exact.
"She reviewed patient profiles on at least three occasions and flagged certain cases to Voss directly.
She characterizes it as administrative assistance.
The legal characterization will be determined by the court."
"She helped him select patients."
"That is one reading of the evidence, yes."
I sat with that for a moment.
"What happens to her?"
"She's cooperating fully, which limits criminal exposure significantly given her age and the time elapsed.
Civilly, she may be named as a secondary respondent.
Her statement, however, is the most valuable thing we have.
It corroborates the documentary evidence and establishes Voss's knowing, deliberate pattern." Patricia folded her hands.
"Without her, we had a strong case.
With her, we have an airtight one."
"And Voss himself?"
"The DA filed charges last Thursday." She slid a single page across the table.
"Medical battery.
Fraud.
Two counts under the state's fertility fraud statute, which was updated in 2019 to cover historical cases."
I read the page.
His name in print.
The charges listed in plain language.
The retirement community in Florida named as his current address.
"He'll face trial?"
"His attorneys are arguing diminished capacity.
We expect a long process." She paused.
"But Mrs.
Calloway, the civil case does not depend on the criminal outcome.
The families will be heard regardless."
I folded the page and put it in my bag.
On the way out, I stopped in the lobby and called Diane Marsh.
"They filed," I said when she picked up.
A long exhale on her end.
"My son is going to want to know."
"Tell him."
"How are you holding up?"
I looked out through the lobby glass at the street.
People walking.
A bus pulling away.
Ordinary afternoon.
"I think I'm okay," I said.
May you like
"I think I might actually be okay."
"That's enough for today," Diane said.
