Saving Max (22 page)

“Not right this second, Judge, but—”

“No buts, Mr. Langley.” She turns to Sevillas. “Well, it seems that the defense has something going for it after all. However, I would remind you, Mr. Sevillas, that this is a limited hearing set for very narrow purposes. Don’t put on your entire defense today. We will all wait with bated breath to watch it unfold at trial.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.”

“Be seated, Mr. District Attorney.” Langley sits like a well-trained dog. She turns to Sevillas. “Proceed, counsel.”

Sevillas catches Max giving him a proud grin. “Two points for our side,” he seemed to say. He turns to the witness. “Nurse Kreng, you were in charge of the Fountainview unit, which housed both Jonas Morrison and Max Parkman?”

“Yes.”

Sevillas walks to within two feet of the witness stand and looks Kreng in the eyes. “Was Max Parkman on the unit the day Jonas died?”

She glares at him. “Yes, he was.”

“Am I correct in stating that it is your position that he was in his bed down the hall?”

“Yes, as reflected by the logs,” she says. “Which also state that he was restrained.”

“By leather straps?”

“Yes.”

Sevillas smiles at her. “Now, Nurse Kreng, perhaps you can enlighten me, because there is something about this I simply don’t understand. How could Max Parkman have removed thick, leather restraining straps on both his hands and feet by himself?”

Her eyes are black spears. “It is our belief that the entry in the log was erroneous.”

Sevillas feigns surprise. “Did you make that entry, Nurse Kreng?”

A blue vein pulses near her forehead as Kreng spits out words like bullets spit from an automatic. “Absolutely not.”

“That would be the duty nurse on that shift—Nurse Grodin?”

“Yes.”

Sevillas places his hands on the witness stand. “Come now,
Nurse Kreng, are you telling us everything?” Before Langley can object, he continues. “Nurse Grodin is no longer in Mait land’s employ, is she?”

Kreng fixes her flat eyes straight ahead. “No, she is not.”

“She was fired, wasn’t she?”

“Yes.”

“Please tell us why she was discharged.”

Her voice is a slice of crisp, burnt toast. “Because she did not fulfill her duties in accordance with the standards of our facility.”

“You found out that she refused to say that she failed to put Max Parkman in restraints that day, didn’t you?”

Kreng draws up. “I believe that she lied to cover her malfeasance.”

Sevillas rocks back on his heels. “In fact, there was not a single Maitland staff person on duty on the Fountainview unit during that fatal lunch hour, was there, Nurse Kreng?”

She glares at him. “There was no real need for a staff person, Mr. Sevillas. The only two patients on the unit were Jonas Morrison and Max Parkman—and both were in restraints.”

“If that were the case, Nurse Kreng,” he says softly, “then how in the world do you explain how both of them were out of restraints at the time of the murder?”

Kreng is silent.

“If there wasn’t a single staff member on that unit, Nurse Kreng, can you or anyone from Maitland say—under oath—who took off the restraints the duty nurse swears she put on Max Parkman?”

“Objection,” says Langley.

“Overruled,” says the judge.

Sevillas strides to the defense table and picks up a piece of paper. “So this log is worthless. Anyone could have been on
that unit during the lunch hour. For all we know, both Max and Jonas were wandering around loose.”

Kreng’s head snaps up. “Absolutely not.”

Sevillas puts a finger alongside his nose. “Come now, Nurse Kreng. You’re in no position to give such a response. You weren’t there.”

She does not respond. Sevillas moves close to the witness box and waits until she meets his eyes. “In fact, there could easily have been a third party—another patient, another staff member—who drugged Max Parkman, dragged him into Jonas’s room, killed Jonas, and was on the verge of killing Max Parkman when his mother scared the murderer off before he could complete that task.”

Kreng’s eyes are the size of half-dollars. “That is preposterous!”

“Your Honor!” Langley looks as if he is on the verge of an aneurism. “This witness is being asked to comment upon the defense’s absurd fairy tale of events so he can plant a murder theory that there is absolutely no foundation for in the facts of this case!”

Hempstead studies Sevillas over her wire rims. “Very creative, Mr. Sevillas.” She turns to Langley. “I am, however, eminently capable of comprehending and applying the facts to whatever theory either of you chooses to put before me.”

“But Judge—”

She shakes her head. “Overruled.”

Sevillas turns back to Kreng. “Isn’t it also possible, Nurse Kreng, that a staff member could have taken the comb used to stab Jonas Morrison from Ms. Parkman’s purse while it was on the unit unattended?”

“Objection!” Langley marches up to the judge’s bench. “Judge, Ms. Parkman was found in Jonas’s room with the comb in her purse.”

“The comb he can’t produce,” says Sevillas calmly.

“Your Honor, this is outrageous!”

“Outrageous is not an objection of which I am aware,” says Hempstead. “It seems to me that Mr. Sevillas is doing what any good defense lawyer would do. He’s coming up with another murder suspect. Not to mention the fact that you don’t have the murder weapon, Mr. Langley. If you could show me a print on that comb, or even the comb,” she says dryly, “I might feel differently. Overruled.”

Sevillas turns back to Kreng. “One last question. Are you aware if anyone from Maitland checked any other patient’s room for traces of blood or other physical evidence on that day?”

Kreng is as white as her uniform. “No, they did not.”

“So we don’t know whether or not another patient or third party either committed the murder or was responsible for plant ing incriminating evidence in Max Parkman’s room.”

Sevillas turns to the judge. “No further questions, Your Honor.” He nods at the witness box. “Thank you very much, Nurse Kreng.”

“All rise!” the bailiff wails.

“Twenty-minute recess.” The judge stands, collects her robes and leaves the bench without a backward glance.

Danielle fastens her seat belt as the airplane finally begins its ascent: the only flight she could get from Phoenix to Des Moines has a brief stopover in Dallas. And after that, she still has the damned drive to Plano. She has tried and tried to reach Max, but if he is in the courtroom, she knows he can’t leave his iPhone on. He must be frantically awaiting her arrival. If she doesn’t get back in time, her boy will be the one to suffer.

She’s had no further calls from Doaks. She hopes he has broken into Marianne’s room by now and found something, anything, to link her to Jonas’s death. The second sweetheart-rose diary lies in her lap. If she reads from now until the moment she lands in Des Moines, she will get through it and the remaining computer disks. And she must not cave in and cry about the horrors she is reading. She is a lawyer—a lawyer looking for evidence to exonerate her son and herself. She opens the book to the next entry.

Danielle requests a coffee from the stewardess and then flips to the end of the diary. Two dead children and who knew how many “miscarriages” so far. She has clipped the pages she will attempt to enter into evidence—assuming the judge will even let her stand up in court and question a witness. And then she can compare Marianne’s handwriting to the sprawling cursive in her diaries. She’s desperate to know what tack Sevillas has taken so far. She refuses to think about how her disappearance may have ruined his ability to protect Max—and her. She scans down to the last entry.

Sevillas glances at the witness list he has compiled. He’s arranged them in the order he thinks Langley will put them on. His bet this morning was that Langley would put on the M.E., Kreng and then Marianne Morrison. When the bailiff calls out the next name, he’s glad he didn’t put any money on the table.

He glances over at Max. The poor kid is barely hanging on as it is. He turns to look at Georgia over Max’s bowed head. He can tell that she is also skeptical that Danielle will arrive in time to save them.

Reyes-Moreno has been on the stand for about fifteen minutes. Langley is making his ponderous way through a laundry list of credentials that would impress Freud. President of the Board of Directors of the American Psychiatric Association; first in her class at Harvard Medical School; practicing psychiatrist for twenty-five years, fifteen at Maitland; worldwide lecturer on myriad psychiatric and neurological disorders in adolescent patients. Sevillas would have welcomed this delay, but doesn’t want the judge to hear a complete laundry list of what a great expert Reyes-Moreno is.

“Your Honor?” He rises halfway out of his seat. “If it please the Court, the defense accepts that the witness’s credentials the District Attorney so liberally provides are accurate. As we are not in trial and there is no jury to consider, could we get on with questioning pertinent to the issues at hand?”

Hempstead gives Sevillas a small smile. “Objection sustained. The court will accept a written résumé of the witness, Mr. Langley. Let’s get on with it, shall we?”

Langley looks annoyed, but nods and turns to his witness. “Dr. Reyes-Moreno, do you know the defendant, Max Parkman?” Langley then points at Max. The doctor smiles at Max and directs her gaze at Langley.

“Yes.” Her voice is clear and melodic. Dressed in a soft gray suit that contrasts with her white hair, her manner appears thoughtful and professional.

“Your basic witness nightmare,” Sevillas mutters to himself. He knows that if a woman is smart and presents herself well, the judge will think she is a credit to the sex—someone who’s fought hard to get to the top, just like her. If she’s stupid, the judge won’t be able to imagine how she got there and will resent an undeserved climb up the professional ladder. If she’s smart—but also a smart-ass—the judge will feel obliged to take her down a peg or two, lest she discredit the sister-hood.

“How often did you interact with Max Parkman after he was admitted?”

“I saw Max on a daily basis.” The doctor folds her hands calmly in her lap and looks at the judge with clear, emerald eyes. “The Maitland concept of psychiatric treatment is to create a ‘team’ for each patient. We select a specific group of psychiatrists, neurologists and educational psychologists who we feel are most qualified to work together on the diagnostic aspects of the case, as well as to devise the best long-term solution for the whole child. Each team is as different as each child.” The judge nods, obviously impressed.

“Were you on Max’s team?” asks Langley.

“Yes, I was Max’s primary psychiatrist and thus had the responsibility for overseeing his team and treatment plan. I
attended all staffings related to Max and conducted all psychiatric sessions with him.”

Langley rustles through his notes and then looks up. “I assume that you were ultimately able to diagnose Max’s psychiatric problems?”

She takes off her silver glasses and rubs her eyes. “It was not solely my diagnosis, but the conclusion reached by each member of Max’s team.”

“And what was that diagnosis, Doctor?”

Sevillas jumps to his feet. “Objection, Your Honor.”

“Yes, Mr. Sevillas?”

“The defendant’s diagnosis is protected by the doctor-patient privilege.”

Langley approaches the bench. “Judge, it is the State’s position that the diagnosis of Max Parkman and his erratic and increasingly violent behavior are intrinsically related to the murder of Jonas Morrison by the defendant. This witness will testify as to both. It is imperative that she be allowed to explain the diagnosis and her observations of the effect this had on the defendant’s state of mind prior to the murder.”

“Your Honor,” says Sevillas. “If you permit this witness to testify in open court about the actual diagnosis of Max Parkman, you will be subjecting that boy to extreme prejudice, especially once the press gets it. This diagnosis was made in a private facility which keeps patient information strictly confidential unless the patient or his legal guardian permits disclosure to a third party.” He draws a breath. “And I can assure you, Judge, no such permission has been given in this case, either by the patient or his mother.”

“Now, Mr. Sevillas, if we were sitting here in front of a jury, I would agree with you,” she says. “However, there is no harm in having the bench hear this testimony, and I believe you have to admit it is relevant to the State’s case.” Sevillas
starts to object further, but Hempstead raises her hand. “To avoid any potential prejudice to Max Parkman and to preclude any future jury pool contamination, I now order that the courtroom be cleared.”

The bailiff rises. “Clear the courtroom.”

After a few moments of grumbling and shuffling feet, the disappointed observers and press corps make their exit. Sevillas gives Georgia a quick glance that says Max doesn’t need to hear what Reyes-Moreno has to say about his mental or emotional problems. She nods and touches Max’s shoulder. With a terrified look at Sevillas, Max follows Georgia and the bailiff out of the courtroom.

Langley smiles at Reyes-Moreno. “Now, Doctor, please tell the judge the purpose of the June 20 meeting and what you observed on that date with respect to the defendant.”

Reyes-Moreno faces the judge. “I actually orchestrated the meeting. Everyone on the team had substantial…concerns…and I determined it would be productive to the patient for Ms. Parkman to meet with us.”

“What ‘concerns’ are you referring to?”

“As you mentioned, Max was experiencing increasing volatility, paranoid delusions and violent tendencies. The purpose of the meeting was to more thoroughly explain the basis for our collective diagnosis and to give Ms. Parkman an opportunity to question the entire team.”

Langley smiles. “And what exactly was that diagnosis, Dr. Reyes-Moreno?”

“Schizoaffective disorder and psychosis N.O.S.”

“What does ‘psychosis N.O.S.’ mean?”

“It means that the patient has experienced a break with reality—on at least one occasion—and the appellation in Max’s case was ‘not otherwise specified.’” She folds her hands. “It is
a more general category, given his age and the observations we made during the short time he has been with us.”

“Mr. Langley,” says the judge. “If there will be no more specific mention of the diagnosis, I would like to open the courtroom to the masses once again.”

“Of course, Your Honor.” As the bailiff opens the door and the observers file in, Langley turns and shoots Sevillas a sly grin. When all are settled, he turns back to the witness. “Do you schedule such meetings with every parent after such a diagnosis is revealed?”

“No,” the doctor says. “In this particular case, Ms. Parkman was unusually reactive. Despite my overtures, she refused to discuss the diagnosis further. I knew that Ms. Parkman’s adamant state of denial would negatively impact Max’s ability to ultimately come to terms with his disease. It is imperative, of course, that the parents of such a child fully support the medical team. If a parent refuses to accept the facts, they cannot help the child cope with the reality of the situation.”

“Please tell us what happened during the conference.”

“Certainly.” She speaks in a professional, yet caring voice. Her demeanor is one of ultimate credibility. The judge takes notes. It is clear that she takes Reyes-Moreno’s testimony seriously. “I began by telling Ms. Parkman that I understood her level of concern about the seriousness of Max’s diagnosis. I assured her that we had not come to our conclusions lightly and that all of our testing clearly indicated that the diagnosis was correct. At that point, Ms. Parkman became upset and told me that she would not accept our diagnosis, regardless of what our tests showed.”

“What happened next?”

Reyes-Moreno looks at the judge. “I informed Ms. Parkman that her refusal to accept the diagnosis was extremely detri
mental to Max’s well-being and that she needed to face it for his sake. She continued to disagree vehemently.”

“Was there any discussion of a second opinion?”

“Absolutely,” she says. “I told her that she was welcome to have any professional she chose review our results. I urged her to do it quickly, however, given the gravity of the situation.”

“And then?”

“I informed Ms. Parkman that Max believed that Jonas was plotting to hurt him or kill him—”

Sevillas stands. “Your Honor, this is dangerously close to violating the court’s order not to discuss Max Parkman’s diagnosis in public.”

“Mr. Langley, I warned you not to cross the line.” She looks sharply at the D.A. “Proceed with caution.”

He nods. “How did Ms. Parkman react to your telling her of Max’s fears?”

Reyes-Moreno takes a deep breath. “She flew into a rage. She accused us not only of having fabricated his symptoms, but of falsifying entries we made into Max’s chart that clearly exhibited his violent behavior.”

“What happened then?”

The doctor shakes her head. “Ms. Parkman jumped up from the conference table, and it appeared that she intended to attack me. An orderly was forced to restrain her.”

Langley smacks his lips, as if he has just polished off a crème brûlée. “Is this a common response?”

She shakes her head sadly. “Not at all, I’m afraid.”

“Go on, Doctor.”

She clears her throat. “At that time, I felt it imperative that we calm Ms. Parkman down. I then attempted to convince her that we had no ‘secret agenda’ and that our diagnosis was
based upon clinical facts and observations, with the conclusion that Max was clearly psychotic.”

Sevillas leaps across the room. “Your Honor! This flies completely in the face of the Court’s order! Why did we bother to clear the courtroom? Counsel is flagrantly attempting to introduce details of that boy’s diagnosis in open court by sliding it in as a question to the witness!”

“Sustained.”

Sevillas’s face is flushed. “Your Honor, the defense requests that the District Attorney be cited with contempt for deliberately disobeying this court’s order.”

The judge shakes her head. “You certainly deserve it, Mr. Langley. I will take the defense’s motion under advisement and will rule on it at the end of the day.”

Langley gives the judge a short bow. “I apologize, Your Honor. I assure you, it was just a slip.”

Sevillas curses under his breath. The damage is done. Langley will happily risk a contempt citation because he’s gotten exactly what he wanted. By this evening, every reporter in the courtroom will turn in copy about how Max is dangerously psychotic and was convinced that Jonas wanted to kill him. Sevillas is sure that it will hit the wires before the evening news. Even worse, any jury pool that might have kept an objective view of Max’s innocence will be tainted. If he doesn’t get a change of venue for the trial, Max will buy it for sure.

Langley turns to the witness. “What was Ms. Parkman’s reaction to her son’s diagnosis?”

“She became highly agitated. She accused me and the entire team of fabricating and doctoring Max’s entries solely for the purpose of substantiating our diagnosis.” She pauses for breath. “She then began cursing and demanding the release of her son.”

“What was your response?”

“I told Ms. Parkman that it would be extremely detrimental to Max’s treatment and his rapidly dissociative behavior to remove him from Maitland.”

“What did Ms. Parkman say?”

“To the best of my recollection, and please understand that I wrote these notes after our meeting, I believe she said: ‘Like hell, lady. By the time you people are through with me, I’d be foaming at the mouth and baying at the moon.’”

“And then?”

The doctor looks down at her notes. “Then she stood up and told me to get Max’s—excuse me for the language, Your Honor—‘fucking records’ copied and sent to her hotel immediately.”

“Did she say anything else?”

“Yes.” Her eyes are sad as she skims the piece of paper in her hand. “She said that she was planning to take Max out of our ‘execrable excuse for a hospital’—despite our insistence that this would harm Max—and told me that I better ‘fucking well’ send Max’s entire chart to her hotel immediately.”

The judge looks at her. “Doctor, did you believe at that time that Ms. Parkman intended to leave the jurisdiction with her son?”

“Yes, Judge, I must say that there was—and is—no question in my mind that, given the opportunity, Ms. Parkman would immediately leave Plano with Max and return to New York.”

“And do you believe that Max Parkman would continue to suffer serious deterioration of his psychiatric condition if this occurred?”

“I’m afraid so,” she finishes softly. “It is also my professional opinion that the violence he has exhibited will escalate.”

Sevillas tries not to let his emotions show. Any chance
Danielle had to stay out on bond after this highly credible testimony is now zero. Langley grins at Sevillas. “Pass the witness.”

Sevillas moves as far away from Langley as he can and still be within hearing distance of the bailiff, who stands close to Max until the courtroom reconvenes.

“Where’s Mom?” asks Max anxiously. “She should be here by now.”

“She sent me a text message,” lies Georgia. “She’s coming just as fast as she can. Her plane was delayed a little.”

Max gives her a wary look. “Where’s my iPhone? I can find out exactly where she is.”

Max frowns and turns to Sevillas, who punches a speed dial on his cell phone—for the third time. He’s going to keep trying until he gets the son of a bitch. On the eighth ring, he hears the familiar gravel of Doaks’s voice. “Yeah?”

“Where the hell are you?”

“C’mon, Tony, grab your dick and take a deep breath,” he says. “I’m busy right now.”

“Busy?” Sevillas snaps. “Doing what, for God’s sake?”