For a week, I did my best to return to my regular schedule, using the time freed up by Evaโs cleaning and the cancellation of the Father Project to catch up on the karate and aikido training that I had been missing.
Sensei, ๏ฌfthย dan, a man who says very little, especially to the black belts, pulled me aside as I was working the punching bag in the dojo.
โSomething has made you very angry,โ he said.ย ๎at was all.
He knew me well enough to know that once an emotion was identi๏ฌed, I would not let it defeat me. But he was right to speak to me, because I had not realized that I was angry.
I was brie๏ฌy angry with Rosie because she unexpectedly refused me something I wanted. But then I became angry with myself over the social incompetence that had doubtless caused Rosie embarrassment.
โข โข โข
I made several attempts to contact Rosie and got her answering service. Finally I left a message: โWhat if you get leukemia and donโt know where to source a bone-marrow transplant? Your biological father would be an excellent candidate with a strong motivation to assist. Failure to complete the project could result in death.ย ๎ere are only eleven candidates remaining.โ
She did not return my call.
โ๎ese things happen,โ said Claudia, over the third co๏ฌee meeting in four weeks. โYou get involved with a woman, it doesnโt work out . . .โ
So that was it. I had, in my own way, become โinvolvedโ with Rosie. โWhat should I do?โ
โItโs not easy,โ said Claudia, โbut anyone will give you the same advice.
Move on. Something else will turn up.โ
Claudiaโs logic, built on sound theoretical foundations and drawing on substantial professional experience, was obviously superior to my own irrational feelings. But as I re๏ฌected on it, I realized that her advice, and indeed the discipline of psychology itself, embodied the results of research on normal humans. I am well aware that I have some unusual characteristics. Was it possible that Claudiaโs advice was not appropriate for me?
I decided on a compromise course of action. I would continue the Wife Project. If (andย onlyย if ) there was further time available, I would use it for the Father Project, proceeding alone. If I could present Rosie with the solution, perhaps we could become friends again.
Based on the Bianca Disaster I revised the questionnaire, adding more stringent criteria. I included questions on dancing, racquet sports, and bridge to eliminate candidates who would require me to gain competence in useless activities, and increased the di๏ฌculty of the mathematics, physics, and genetics problems. Optionย (c) moderatelyย would be theย onlyย acceptable answer to the alcohol question. I organized for the responses to go directly to Gene, who was obviously engaging in the well-established research practice of making secondary use of the data. He could advise me if anyone met my criteria. Exactly.
In the absence of Wife Project candidates, I thought hard about the best way to get DNA samples for the Father Project.
๎e answer came to me as I was boning a quail.ย ๎e candidates were doctors who would presumably be willing to contribute to genetics research. I just needed a plausible excuse to ask for their DNA.ย ๎anks to the preparation I had done for the Aspergerโs lecture, I had one.
I pulled out my list of eleven names. Two were con๏ฌrmed dead, leaving nine, seven of whom were living overseas, which explained their absence at the reunion. But two had local phone numbers. One was the head of the Medical Research Institute at my own university. I rang it ๏ฌrst.
โProfessor Lefebvreโs o๏ฌce,โ said a womanโs voice.
โItโs Professor Tillman from the Department of Genetics. Iโd like to invite Professor Lefebvre to participate in a research project.โ
โProfessor Lefebvre is on sabbatical in the US. Heโll be back in two weeks.โ
โExcellent.ย ๎e project is Presence of Genetic Markers for Autism in High-Achieving Individuals. I require him to complete a questionnaire and provide a DNA sample.โ
Two days later, I had succeeded in locating all nine living candidates and posted them questionnaires, created from the Aspergerโs research papers, and cheek scrapers.ย ๎e questionnaires were irrelevant but were needed to make the research appear legitimate. My covering letter made clear my credentials as a professor of genetics at a prestigious university. In the meantime, I needed to ๏ฌnd relatives of the two dead doctors.
โข โข โข
I found an obituary for Dr. Gerhard von Deyn, a victim of a heart attack, on the Internet. It mentioned his daughter, a medical student at the time of his death. I had no trouble tracking down Dr. Brigitte von Deyn, and she was happy to participate in the survey. Simple.
Geo๏ฌrey Case was a much more di๏ฌcult challenge. He had died a year after graduating. I had long ago noted his basic details from the reunion website. He had not married and had no (known) children.
Meanwhile the DNA samples trickled back. Two doctors, both in New York, declined to participate. Why would medical practitioners not participate in an important study? Did they have something to hide? Such as an illegitimate daughter in the same city that the request came from? It occurred to me that, if they suspected my motives, they could send a friendโs DNA. At least refusal was better than cheating.
Seven candidates, including the younger Dr. von Deyn, returned samples. None of them was Rosieโs father or half sister. Professor Simon Lefebvre returned from his sabbatical and wanted to meet me in person.
โIโm here to collect a package from Professor Lefebvre,โ I said to the receptionist at the city hospital where he was based, hoping to avoid an actual meeting and interrogation. I was unsuccessful. She buzzed the phone, announced my name, and Professor Lefebvre appeared. He was, I assumed, approximately ๏ฌfty-four years old. I had met many ๏ฌfty-four-year-olds in the past thirteen weeks. He was carrying a large envelope, presumably containing the questionnaire, which was destined for the recycling bin, and his DNA.
As he reached me, I tried to take the envelope, but he extended his other hand to shake mine. It was awkward, but the net result was that we shook
hands and he retained the envelope.
โSimon Lefebvre,โ he said. โSo, what are you really after?โ
๎is was totally unexpected. Why should he question my motives?
โYour DNA,โ I said. โAnd the questionnaire. For a major research study.
Critical.โ I was feeling stressed and my voice doubtless re๏ฌected it.
โIโm sure it is.โ Simon laughed. โAnd you randomly select the head of medical research as a subject?โ
โWe were looking for high achievers.โ โWhatโs Charlie after this time?โ
โCharlie?โ I didnโt know anyone called Charlie.
โAll right,โ he said. โDumb question. How much do you want me to put in?โ
โNo putting in is required.ย ๎ere is no Charlie involved. I just require the DNA . . . and the questionnaire.โ
Simon laughed, again. โYouโve got my attention. You can tell Charlie that. Shoot me through the project description. And the ethics approval.
๎e whole catastrophe.โ
โ๎en I can have my sample?โ I said. โA high response rate is critical for the statistical analysis.โ
โJust send me the paperwork.โ
Simon Lefebvreโs request was entirely reasonable. Unfortunately I did not have the required paperwork, because the project was ๏ฌctitious. To develop a plausible project proposal would potentially require hundreds of hours of work.
I attempted an estimate of the probability that Simon Lefebvre was Rosieโs father.ย ๎ere were now four untested candidates: Lefebvre, Geo๏ฌrey Case (dead), and the two New Yorkers, Isaac Esler and Solomon Freyberg. On the basis of Rosieโs information, any one of them had a twenty-๏ฌve percent probability of being her father. But having proceeded so far without a positive result, I had to consider other possibilities. Two of our results relied on relatives rather than direct testing. It was possible that one or both of these daughters were, like Rosie, the result of extrarelationship sex, which, as Gene points out, is a more common phenomenon than popularly believed. And there was the possibility that one or more of my respondents to the ๏ฌctitious research project might have deliberately sent a false sample.
I also had to consider that Rosieโs mother might not have told the truth. It took me a long time to think of this, as my default assumption is that
people will be honest. But perhaps Rosieโs mother wanted Rosie to believe that her father was a doctor, as she was, rather than a less prestigious person. On balance, I estimated the chance that Simon Lefebvre was Rosieโs father was sixteen percent. In developing documentation for the Aspergerโs research project, I would be doing an enormous amount of work with a low probability that it would provide the answer.
I chose to proceed.ย ๎e decision was barely rational.
โข โข โข
In the midst of this work, I received a phone call from a solicitor to advise me that Daphne had died. Despite the fact that she had been e๏ฌectively dead for some time, I detected in myself an unexpected feeling of loneliness. Our friendship had been simple. Everything was so much more complicated now.
๎e reason for the call was that Daphne had left me what the solicitor referred to as a โsmall sumโ in her will. Ten thousand dollars. And she had also left a letter, written before she had gone to live in the nursing home. It was handwritten on decorative paper.
Dear Don,
๎ank you for making the ๏ฌnal years of my life so stimulating. After Edward was admitted to the nursing home, I did not believe that there was much left for me. Iโm sure you know how much you have taught me, and how interesting our conversations have been, but you may not realize what a wonderful companion and support you have been to me.
I once told you that you would make someone a wonderful husband, and in case you have forgotten, I am telling you again. Iโm sure if you look hard enough, you will ๏ฌnd the right person. Do not give up, Don.
I know you donโt need my money, and my children do, but I have left you a small sum. I would be pleased if you would use it for something irrational.
Much love, Your friend, Daphne Speldewind
It took me less than ten seconds to think of an irrational purchase: in fact I allowed myself only that amount of time to ensure that the decision was not a๏ฌected by any logical thought process.
โข โข โข
๎e Aspergerโs research project was fascinating but very time-consuming.
๎e ๏ฌnal proposal was impressive, and I was con๏ฌdent it would have passed the peer-review process if it had been submitted to a funding organization. I was implying it had been, though I stopped short of forging an approval letter. I called Lefebvreโs personal assistant and explained that I had forgotten to send him the documents but would now bring them personally. I was becoming more competent at deception.
I arrived at reception, and the process of summoning Lefebvre was repeated.ย ๎is time he was not holding an envelope. I tried to give him the documents and he tried to shake my hand, and we had a repeat of the confusion that had occurred the previous time. Lefebvre seemed to ๏ฌnd this funny. I was conscious of being tense. After all this work, I wanted the DNA.
โGreetings,โ I said. โDocumentation as requested. All requirements have been ful๏ฌlled. I now need the DNA sample and questionnaire.โ
Lefebvre laughed again and looked me up and down. Was there something odd about my appearance? My T-shirt was the one I wear on alternate days, featuring the periodic table, a birthday gift from the year after my graduation, and my pants were the serviceable pair that are equally suitable for walking, lecturing, research, and physical tasks. Plus high-quality running shoes.ย ๎e only error was that my socks, which would have been visible below my pants, were of slightly di๏ฌerent colors, a common error when dressing in poor light. But Simon Lefebvre seemed to ๏ฌnd everything amusing.
โBeautiful,โ he said.ย ๎en he repeated my words in what seemed to be an attempt to imitate my intonation: โAll requirements have been ful๏ฌlled.โ He added, in his normal voice, โTell Charlie I promise Iโll read the proposal.โ
Charlie again!ย ๎is was ridiculous.
โ๎e DNA,โ I said, forcefully. โI need the sample.โ
Lefebvre laughed as though I had made the biggest joke of all time.
๎ere were tears running down his face. Actual tears. โYouโve made my day.โ
He grabbed a tissue from a box on the reception desk, wiped his face, blew his nose, and tossed the used tissue in the trash can as he left with my proposal.
I walked to the trash and retrieved the tissue.
