First Do No Harm (Benjamin Davis Book Series, Book 1) (16 page)

Morty took the Johnston deposition. He made a few notes and brought Ms. Johnston’s subpoena. He knew most of the questions he was going to ask. However, he always professed that he got his best questions from the witness’s answers.

Morty began slowly, asking the witness her name, address, employer, job description, and so forth. He then asked the types of records the hospital maintained: “Does the hospital maintain pathology slides of every gallbladder surgery performed?”

“Yes.”

“I direct your attention to item five of the subpoena. It requests that the hospital produce its pathology slides for every gallbladder surgery performed from 1989 through 1992. Are they here in the room?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“We destroy them two months into the next year.”

“Is Plainview Community Hospital a licensed health care facility?”

“Yes, sir.”

“The Joint Commission on Accreditation of Healthcare Organizations, or JCAHO, issues and monitors the hospital’s license, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.” Johnston remained calm. “JCAHO visits the hospital at least once every two years. The visit lasts
several days.” She went on to say that JCAHO’s Rule 301 required that pathology slides be maintained for at least three years. She had no explanation for why Plainview Community Hospital’s pathology slides didn’t exist. She just sat there silent, and Morty let the liar sit there.

After another hour of difficult questions with no good answers, Morty wiped his face with a linen handkerchief and rested a moment. The old man’s skin looked pale, and beads of sweat dotted his forehead.

Davis laid a hand on Morty’s arm and addressed Stevenson: “It’s hot in here. Can you turn up the air conditioning?”

“There’s no thermostat in this room,” Stevenson responded.

“Let’s get this done so we can leave,” Morty insisted.

As Morty stood to remove his jacket, he swayed and clutched the table to steady himself.

“Are you all right?” Davis asked quietly.

Morty fell back into the swivel chair and almost fell over. He loosened his tie. “I’m fine. Let’s proceed.”

Davis wasn’t so sure.

“Can I have a glass of water?” Morty asked.

Stevenson drummed his fingers on the table. “There’s a water fountain in the hall.”

Davis didn’t like the clammy color of the old man’s skin. “Let’s take a break.”

“No.” Morty rubbed his chest. “We’ll complete this current line of questioning first.”

But a moment later, he squeezed his left arm.

Davis sprang to his feet. “Morty, you’re sick. We’re stopping right now.”

Morty clenched his teeth and looked up at Davis,
who was really worried. In a hoarse whisper he insisted, “Get me out of here. I’m having another heart attack.”

“We’re in a hospital,” Davis said.

“I wouldn’t let my dogs be treated in this hospital. You’ve got to be kidding me, Ben.”

Davis turned to Stevenson. “Get some help. Now!”

Stevenson moved toward the door, but Morty kept shaking his head and saying, “Drive me to Saint Thomas.”

“Stay calm. We’ll get a doctor. Stevenson, move your ass. He needs a doctor
right now
!”

“Call my cardiologist,” Morty pleaded. “He’ll meet us at Saint Thomas.”

“Morty, you’re crazy. That’s a fifty-minute—”

But before Davis finished his sentence, Morty passed out.

Morty was admitted to Plainview Community Hospital through its emergency room. Davis decided to call Dr. Laura Patel, who lived only five minutes away.

“Ben, good to hear from you. How are the cases—”

Davis broke in, “Laura, Morty needs your help. He’s been admitted to Plainview Community Hospital. He’s had another heart attack.”

“Oh, my God, Ben. I can’t do much. I don’t have any privileges. They won’t even let me in the front door.”

“I want you to assess Morty to see if we can move him safely by ambulance to Saint Thomas. This is America. You have a right to visit anyone you damn well please in the hospital. I’ll make sure we’ve got privacy and his chart is available. Just bring your stethoscope and blood pressure cup.”

“What are his vitals?”

“I don’t know, but we’re going to find out when you get here. Hurry, please.”

Laura could hear in Davis’s voice that he was near frantic about the old man. She jumped in her car and was at the hospital in record time. Davis met her at the ER entrance. He was talking incredibly fast. The adrenaline had kicked in.

Laura looked around the ER. It was like coming home.
God, I’ve missed this place
. Then she caught herself.
How could I miss Plainview Community Hospital and its schemes and unethical practices?
She momentarily confused the place for her love of medicine and her desire to help people. That’s what she longed for.

After a few minutes, Nurse Richie walked past them, and Laura pulled her aside to find out about Morty’s diagnosis and treatment plan. Laura and Nurse Richie always had a strong professional relationship, and the RN wouldn’t rat Laura out to Douglas or the head nurse.

“What’s Mr. Steine’s condition?”

“He’s had a heart attack. We’re uncertain if there’s been any permanent damage to the heart. His blood pressure is low, seventy over fifty-five, but stable.”

Laura turned to Davis and said, “I don’t recommend you move him right now. Let’s see how he looks after he’s admitted to a room and I get a chance to examine him. We can always discharge him against medical advice and have him transported by private ambulance to Nashville.”

She turned back to Nurse Richie. “How long before he’s in a private room?”

“About twenty minutes.”

Davis and Laura agreed that they would wait in the cafeteria. On the way they ran right into Woody Douglas.

“What the hell are you doing in my hospital?” he nearly yelled at Laura.

Davis answered, “She’s visiting Mr. Steine, at my request. Look, Douglas, I’m not going to have any trouble with you. This hospital is open to the family and friends of anyone admitted, and Morty Steine unfortunately falls into that category. I’m in no mood for you.
If you interfere with Dr. Patel’s right to be here, I’ll slap a lawsuit against the hospital and you personally so fast your head will spin. Now get out of our way. We’re going to get a cup of coffee.”

Laura was impressed by Davis’s confrontation with Douglas. She hated the little weasel, who was part of the conspiracy that cost her job and livelihood. She was now a stay-at-home mom.

Once they got their coffee, Davis explained what happened at the deposition of Ms. Johnston, the custodian of records.

“She’s lying through her teeth. I know for a fact that the pathology lab keeps those slides in chronological order. I’ve seen where they’re stored, in a refrigerator in the lab. Each year has its own metal case with the year noted with masking tape on the front.”

“Would you testify to that?”

“Without hesitation.”

Davis explained that Morty rattled the defense counsel’s cage at Ms. Johnston’s deposition. The hospital’s claim that it destroyed the slides placed the hospital in a difficult position. Maintaining the slides was required by JCAHO, which accredited the hospital. The last thing the hospital wanted was a JCAHO investigation and a possible loss of its accreditation.

Davis continued, “Judge Boxer is likely to instruct the jury that the slides were destroyed to cover up the hospital’s knowledge of unnecessary surgeries. That isn’t as good as having the slides, which would have proved that English had removed healthy gallbladders, but at least it’s something that the jury could rely on to hang the bastards.

“Doc, Morty and I need a favor. Can you spend the
night here at the hospital? Morty was supposed to take two depositions here in the morning, and I don’t want to postpone them if at all possible. I can stop by around seven to check in and relieve you before noon. I’ll spend the rest of the day with him and, if necessary, tomorrow night as well.”

Laura didn’t hesitate to agree. She loved the old man too. More than once she talked to Maggie about him and his record as a legal legend and a wonderful human being.

At ten o’clock Laura left Morty’s room to stretch her legs. She got into the elevator and went to the basement. The only two departments on that level were the morgue and the pathology lab. At this hour the lab was empty, and only a single tech staffed the morgue. The hallway lights were off to save energy. Laura walked past the morgue. A television was tuned to a S
einfeld
rerun. She ducked down as she slipped by the morgue’s half glass door. She knew the episode; it was the one where Elaine’s horrible dancing ability was disclosed at an office party.

At the pathology lab, Laura was surprised to find the door open, yet another JCAHO violation. She made a beeline for the refrigerator and crouched as she opened it. There were the pathology slides, which Ms. Johnston testified had been destroyed. She could carry only two years’ worth of slides, so she selected 1991 and 1992. When she left the lab, she debated whether to lock the door but elected to leave things as she found them.

The next morning Laura jumped to her feet when Davis entered Morty’s room. She was excited and pulled him into the bathroom to keep from waking Morty.

“What’s up? And why are we talking in the bathroom?”

“Look what I’ve got.”

Laura reached into her bag and pulled out the two metal boxes.

In a very low voice, almost a whisper, Davis asked, “How the hell did you get these?”

“I went down to the lab last night and there they were, right where I said they’d be. Johnston lied yesterday, Ben, and now you can prove it.”

“But you committed a felony to get them. You’ve stolen hospital property.”

“But she lied—”

“That doesn’t matter. You stole. Give me a dollar!”

Laura looked at Davis with a puzzled expression.

“Give me a dollar!”

After she did, Davis smiled and said, “You’ve just retained me as your attorney in connection with your theft of hospital property. If I reported you, I’d be violating my oath to you and attorney-client privilege.”

Laura smiled back. “I’ve been trying to get you to represent me, and all I had to do was commit a crime. Don’t you find that ironic?”

Laura had not thought through how Davis would actually use the slides. She was just excited that he had them.

Davis explained how he would introduce the slides into evidence even though they were stolen. He was convinced that under the Tennessee Rules of Evidence, Judge Boxer would allow him to impeach the hospital custodian of records after she testified in open court that the slides had been destroyed. The judge would not be overly concerned with how Davis got the slides after
Davis proved the hospital’s dishonesty in his court.

Laura figured that her motives were pure, although her methods might have been criminal. She thought,
Sometimes the ends justify the means
.

Following Morty’s heart attack, Davis insisted that the old man recuperate at the Davis home with Liza nursing him back to health. Dr. Caldwell, Liza’s father, even made house calls to monitor his condition. Fortunately no permanent damage was done to his heart. Sammie moved back into the ninth-floor loft, and within six weeks, Morty was ready to go back to work. He still lived with the Davises, however.

Just like Sammie, Morty was part of the family, and when the family boarded a plane for New York in September so they could attend the wedding of Sammie’s father, Morty was right there with them.

The out-of-town trip was also an opportunity to have a few days away from the cases and have fun. They would be staying at the home of Davis’s parents, Larry and Shelly Davis of Woodbury, Long Island, New York. Davis always enjoyed being with his parents, and Sammie loved seeing her grandparents. The Davises’ son and granddaughter had a close relationship with them, despite being separated by the distance from New York to Nashville.

Davis was the best man for his brother, and Sammie was the maid of honor. Davis’s children also took part, with Caroline as junior bridesmaid and Jake as ring
bearer. The bride’s parents came from modest means, so Larry graciously offered to pay for the reception.

The wedding took place in a predominantly Italian wedding hall as a compromise between the Catholic bride’s family and the Jewish groom’s family with both a rabbi and a priest presiding. The three hundred guests enjoyed a sit-down dinner of roast beef or salmon. The festivities lasted until the early morning, with the bride and groom leaving about 1:00 a.m.

Following a few hours of sleep and a breakfast of bagels and lox, Davis asked his father if he could speak with him privately.

His father agreed, and when they sat down in comfortable leather chairs in the den, Davis said, “Dad, there’s no easy way to say this. I’m overextended.”

“What happened?”

“I made a couple of bad decisions. I told you I had taken on those ten malpractice cases on contingency. My co-counsel, Brad Littleton, refuses to put up his share of the expenses. I also miscalculated my cash flow. These cases have taken up so much more of my time than I envisioned. I’ve pissed off some clients because I can’t spend more time on their cases, and my practice has dwindled because of it.”

His father, who owned three dry cleaners in Woodbury and two adjoining towns, understood how a businessman could get overextended. His father had done the very same thing when he opened his third location to give George a livelihood.

“How much have you sunk in these cases?”

“I’ve already spent more than $200,000, and I owe another $25,000. I must have spent well over a thousand hours of my time.”

“How much has Littleton given you?”

“Not a penny.” Davis shook his head. “He was supposed to put up a third. I’ve made demands, but he claims he doesn’t have it.”

Larry thought a moment. “Let him go to his father.”