An Accidental Life (42 page)

“Alice says the Gordys have certified copies of those. She’ll ask them to bring them along.” He lifted his eyes and breathed a silent prayer. “Assuming they’re still willing to do this.”

All three stood, Dooney slung her purse over her shoulder. Mac helped her with her coat, and then picked up his own, and his hat and they walked to the front door.

“I’ll be going over Alice’s story again after she’s had a rest and then we’ll get in touch with the Gordys,” Peter said, putting his hand on Mac’s shoulder. “But call me if anything comes up, or if you need help getting any of this done.”

“And Dooney?”

She’d reached the porch just outside the door. He dropped his hand and turned to her, holding the door open behind him as Mac passed through. “Have you got the defense experts publications in medical journals or anywhere else, anything on pediatric care, obstectrics, bioethics, or medical-legal subjects?”

“I have copies for you. Thought you’d need them this weekend to prepare for cross-examination.”

He nodded. “I’m going to be tied up with Alice most of the weekend. Take another look at those, will you? Just highlight anything that sheds light on how they’re thinking about this issue of live birth. Look for anything I can use in cross that might open the door for rebuttal, anything in Vicari’s practice in Chicago—anything that shows knowledge. Anything that might help us get Alice and the Gordys on the stand for rebuttal.”

He watched as they walked to their separate cars and then glanced at his watch, wishing that he could stop time, wishing that he could wake up Alice. As he went back inside he could almost hear the clock ticking.

46

After leaving the Jacobs’
house, Dooney
drove to the office in Gretna. There she contacted Shauna and asked her to come into the office, filling her in, giving her the names, addresses, and phone number for the Gordys. Shauna would have to wait until Alice and Peter talked to them before she called. But then she’d need to move fast to get the parents in New Orleans no later than Monday, noon.

She told Shauna about Mac’s trip to Chicago, and that Shauna would have to locate the correct form of consent and draft it and get it to the Gordys in person. Then Abby’s parents would sign the consent for release of their adopted daughter’s medical records before witnesses and a notary, after which Shauna would send copies to Peter’s office and to New Hope Hospital. Mac would need a copy too.

“Oh,” she added. “And don’t forget. When you escort the Gordys to New Orleans, be certain they’ve got the original of the hospital consent they signed with them. And the adoption records, and anything else certified by the family court.”

Assuming that Peter could get the evidence in at all, the Chicago records were critical. Morrow would require absolute proof that Abby was the same child that Vicari had delivered during the abortion procedure as Alice described.

Pushing that worry aside, she pulled the files she’d created on likely witnesses that the defense would call on Monday. She’d culled these down to seven, and knew that of those Vince McConnell would probably call only two or three. From the various files, she pulled the probable witnesses’ publications. With a sigh, she stuck them in her briefcase. She would work on them at home. This would be a long night.

Mac’s flight landed at ten o’clock that Saturday night at Midway Airport in Chicago. There were only three people in the taxi line, so he walked over and stood behind them in the cold, shuffling forward with his bag until he reached the cab.

“Wainwright,” he said, naming a downtown hotel the cabbie would recognize.

The cabbie nodded and set the meter as they rolled forward.

Mac leaned his head back and closed his eyes. He would call Dooney as soon as he reached the hotel to get the number for local counsel. By the time he reached the hotel though, it would be too late to get anything started today. Briefly he thought about calling Lucy Ringer again. But he dismissed the idea almost as soon as it popped up. There was too much to get done on this trip, and not enough time. He’d stick to the plan.

As the unending vertical streaks of colored lights in downtown Chicago appeared ahead, he did something he hadn’t done in years. Eyes still closed, head resting on the back of the taxi seat, he said a prayer. Maybe God would be glad to hear from him after all this time.

47

“All rise. The twenty-fourth Judicial District,
Jefferson Parish, Louisiana, is now in session. Judge Calvin Morrow, presiding.”

Monday morning and the clock was ticking. Peter looked up and rose along with Dooney. They watched as Judge Morrow swept through the door. Over the weekend Mac, Dooney, and Shauna had arranged between them to obtain duplicate originals of the necessary consents for release of Abby’s medical records. One would be delivered to New Hope Hospital in Chicago this morning by Federal Express. The other would arrive in New Orleans with Shauna and the Gordys this afternoon. Peter glanced at his watch, realizing suddenly that on Central Standard Time, New Hope should have the consent right now, and Mac would be there to shepherd it through the system.

Time was the problem. He needed Mac on a plane by late this afternoon so they could look over the records before tomorrow morning’s session began. Meanwhile, he had his job cut out for him here: How to get Alice and the Gordys on the stand in the State’s rebuttal tomorrow.

Someone tapped him on the shoulder and he turned to see Stephanie Kand on the other side of the railing. “Just letting you know I’m here,” she said. “Traffic tied me up.”

“Thanks,” he said. “Let’s get together at lunch to compare notes.”

She nodded and took a seat

Watching Vince McConnell from the corners of his eyes, Peter pulled the yellow legal pad toward him. Dooney’s work on the witnesses’ publications had been invaluable in preparing for the cross-examinations today. He shook his head just thinking of the ideas contained in some of those articles. But, whether he’d be allowed to use any of this information depended upon the direction Vince McConnell took in his examination of the witnesses today.

Judge Morrow’s voice roused him.

“Are you going to make an opening statement, Mr. McConnell?”

“A brief one, Your Honor.” Vince rose and walked to the lectern without any notes. Peter saw the tension in his back. For a moment Vince McConnell stood there, hands on the lectern, looking down. Then, with a slight heave of his shoulders, he looked up at Calvin Morrow.

“When Miss Chasson first appeared at the Alpha Women’s Clinic on May 11, she was seeking help in asserting her constitutional right to terminate her pregnancy. She was in a fragile state, as we’ve heard from the testimony of her behavior in the procedure room two days later. She’d been abandoned by the prospective father and she arrived at our clinic alone, anxious, frightened.” He turned and stretched his arm toward the defendant. “The clinic was her refuge and the Defendant took her in.”

Briefly Vince ran through the facts from the perspective of the defense. As he spoke, he paced back and forth in the well of the courtroom, fixing his eyes on individual spectators from time to time. A good reaction from the gallery and the press could set a tone that Peter knew might have an effect on the judge.

“The defense will prove that the State, even with hindsight, has failed to prove that the Defendant had any reason whatsoever to anticipate the birth of a viable fetus in this case.

“As we move on, I ask this court to keep in mind that we must distinguish between fetal ability to breathe for a short period of time outside the mother, and the ability to sustain a meaningful life separate and apart from the mother.”

Vince halted behind the lectern where he’d started and gripped each side, looking at the judge. “In summary, the defense will prove to this court not only that the State has failed to prove the elements of the charge of second degree murder. But that the State has also failed to prove even negligence on the part of Doctor Charles Vicari.”

“Is the defense ready to call the first witness?”

Vince turned toward the gallery, looking at the hallway door. “Yes, Your Honor. The defense calls Dr. George Barnett to the stand.”

Peter took notes, although George Barnett had so far said nothing unexpected. Barnett was there to give his views on Stephanie Kand’s testimony and her conclusions in the autopsy report. Stephanie, sitting behind him, would be taking notes that would help him on cross-examination, and if necessary, in rebuttal.

He gave his watch a nervous glance. Hopefully, if everything went just right, the Gordys and Alice would be all he’d need for the rebuttal. So Peter sat back and watched the testimony unfold.

Dr. Barnett was certified in anatomic clinical and forensic pathology. He’d studied Dr. Kand’s pathology report and the autopsy photographs, copies of which Peter and the judge had before them. Step by step Vince took him through Dr. Kand’s report and the classifications of death, in which Dr. Barnett also concurred. He reviewed the physical aspects of the body prior to autopsy without using the slides. The witness agreed that the body had appeared to be in a good state of preservation.

“Does anything in the autopsy report indicate to you that the fetus was viable?”

“No. The alveoli, the air sacs, were somewhat extended, but in my opinion the pathology report was more than optimistic. In my opinion the autopsy shows only that the fetus breathed for minutes—more than that is only a guess. A few minutes of breathing does not indicate viability.” He shook his head. “The lungs, of course, were not fully developed.”

“In your opinion, was the fetus viable?”

“Not in my opinion.”

“Thank you. Now. Dr. Kand testified that she found no congenital abnormality in the brain. You studied the autopsy report on the brain?”

“Yes, I did.”

“Do you agree with Dr. Kand’s conclusions?”

Barnett pushed out his lip, with a slight movement of his head as he looked at Vince McConnell. “Dr. Kand’s conclusion was premature. In my opinion it is not possible to conclude with a twenty-four-week-old brain whether congenital abnormality exists. We just have no experience with that.”

“Would your conclusion be the same if the subject of this autopsy had been put on life support in intensive care?”

“My conclusion stays the same. Without evidence to the contrary, I have no reason to believe that the infant’s brain would have developed normally through term by artificial means and outside the mother’s womb, as Dr. Kand testified. And twenty-four weeks is just too premature to speculate.”

“Thank you, Dr. Barnett.” Vince pulled on his lip and looked off. “And have you come to a conclusion as to the cause and manner of death in this case?”

The witness lifted one shoulder slightly, an almost an imperceptible shrug. “As one would expect given the gestational age, in my opinion death was caused by several events, all complications due to extreme prematurity.” He spread his hands. “Inadequate oxygen. Low body temperature.”

“And the manner of death?”

He dropped his hands into his lap and his voice rose. “In my opinion, this was a natural death due to premature development.”