Sevillas gives a curt nod and sits down.
Goddammit.
Danielle is lucky she isn’t here right now. He’d like nothing better than to feed her whole to Hempstead. There is a slight rustle as Georgia guides Max back to his seat. Sevillas is so intent upon the questioning that he barely notices.
“Ms. Morrison,” Langley intones, “is it true that Max Parkman was in regular contact with your son?”
Marianne nods. “That is correct. Danielle and I spent so much of our time together, of course I trusted her to monitor Max and Jonas.” Her eyes begin to tear again as she turns to Hempstead. “You don’t know how many times every day now I wish I hadn’t been so trusting.”
Langley’s face emotes practiced concern. “And what did you
actually observe take place between Max and Jonas during the times they were together?”
“In the beginning,” she says, “Max seemed to ignore Jonas’s overtures to be friendly. As Max became progressively psy—” She turns to Hempstead. “I’m sorry, Your Honor. Max became increasingly hostile toward Jonas.”
“In what way?”
She gives him a sorrowful look. “I personally witnessed a few such events, each more troubling than the last. It all started with Jonas trying to be friendly with Max—you know, sitting beside him, showing him a toy, that kind of thing. As the days progressed, Max grew increasingly irritated and slapped Jonas when he thought no one was looking. I told Danielle about it, but she denied that Max would do such a thing.” A ragged sob breaks from her. “If only I had believed my son instead of Danielle. But how was I to know that she was so terribly frightened of the change in Max’s behavior that she would lie to protect him?”
Langley nods sympathetically and hands her another tissue. “And what was the worst of these episodes?”
Marianne daubs at streaks of mascara that slide down her cheeks. “It’s so hard for me to talk about. One morning, Jonas, Danielle, Max and I were in the TV room. It was very peaceful. I was knitting, and Jonas was holding my yarn for me. As usual, Max was asleep on the sofa. At some point, Danielle stepped out to smoke a cigarette, something she did quite often. Jonas went over to Max and gently woke him up. When Jonas tried to give him a simple hug, Max went berserk. He jumped up, screamed at Jonas, and then bashed his head against the top of the coffee table….” Her voice catches. After a moment’s struggle, she continues. “Of course, there wasn’t a single nurse or orderly there…”
Sevillas makes a note.
Building her civil case against hospital
.
“…so I rushed over to Jonas, and there he was—screaming on the floor with his head split wide open and blood everywhere, while Max beat him until he broke his ribs.” She breaks down, her head in her hands.
Max shoots to his feet, his face a mottled red. “She’s a liar! That’s not how it happened!”
Sevillas yanks him back, but not before the judge spears him with a look as black as ground charcoal. “Mr. Sevillas! You will control your client or I’ll have him taken into custody. We are dealing with a grieving mother here. If you want to put Mr. Parkman on the stand, I’ll be happy to question him myself.” She peers down at Max. “And you will remain completely silent for the rest of this proceeding, or I will have you removed again. Is that clear?”
Max’s eyes widen, and he nods furiously. “Yes, Your Honor.”
Sevillas half stands. “No, Your Honor, that won’t be necessary.” He sits down and places a very firm hand on Max’s arm. Max still looks as if he’s ready to explode. Sevillas leans over and whispers in his ear. “
Be quiet.
Do you want them to think you’re the lunatic they say you are?” Max scowls at Sevillas. He crosses his arms and slides down in his seat.
Langley walks up to the witness stand, puts his arm around Marianne’s shoulder and pats it gently. When she finally rallies, he walks back to the podium. “Mrs. Morrison, can you tell us what happened then?”
She nods. “I’ll try. After that, nurses and orderlies came from everywhere. They pulled Max off of Jonas—with Max ranting about Jonas wanting to kill him. That horrible Naomi girl was there, too, egging Max on. A staff member had to drag her away. Dwayne, the strongest orderly, was the only one who could handle Max. He was screaming and cursing, kicking and biting. It was as if he had gone completely mad. I
honestly don’t know how Dwayne managed to get him back into his room.” She draws a deep breath. “Only then did the nurse try to treat my poor Jonas for his wounds, but they were so serious that he had to go to the hospital for stitches and X-rays of his ribs.” She raises her eyes to the sympathetic audience. “The only reason I permitted Jonas to stay on the same ward with that boy is because they assured me that Max would never come in contact with Jonas again—and because Danielle promised me she would do everything in her power to have Max moved to another ward.”
Max shoves Sevillas a hastily scribbled note:
She’s nuts!
Sevillas shakes his head in amazement. Marianne is just making it up as she goes along.
Langley preens to the press and then turns back to Marianne. “Are you aware of any other violent episodes between Max and Jonas?”
“Not that I saw.” She looks down. “But later, well, after I spoke with the nurses, and they told me something I wasn’t aware of.”
“Such as?”
Sevillas stands. “Objection—hearsay.”
The judge barely gives him a glance. “You may cross-examine. Go on, Ms. Morrison.”
“Well, apparently Max had broken his mother’s compact and threatened Jonas with one of the glass shards.”
Sevillas grips Max’s shoulder—hard. “Don’t even think about it,” he hisses. Max gives him a malevolent look, but stays in his seat.
“Anything else, Ms. Morrison?”
“One of the nurses told me she could tell what a difference a good mother made when she looked at Jonas and how she couldn’t understand how Danielle could remain in denial of her own son’s terrible mental problems—”
“Fine.” Langley cuts her off as he glances nervously at Sevillas. “Did you personally observe any behavior on the part of Ms. Parkman that you would call unusual?”
“Yes, I’m afraid I did.”
“Can you describe such an instance for us?”
“I’ll do my best.” She turns toward the judge as if they’re having coffee and biscotti at Starbucks. “One day, Danielle and I were sitting outside. Out of the blue, she asked me the oddest question.” The judge’s gaze is rapt. “She said, ‘Marianne, do you have any experience with hospital computer systems?’ I told her that during my years of residency and nursing, I became quite proficient at working with computers. She asked me a lot of questions about firewalls, passwords, security—that kind of thing. I thought she was just making conversation. Then she sat very still for a moment; looked me straight in the eyes; and said: ‘What do you know about Maitland’s computer system?’ I said, ‘What do you mean?’ She got this very strange look in her eyes, and I felt the hair stand straight up on the back of my neck. Then she told me she wanted to break into Maitland’s computer system.”
The judge’s eyes widen. Langley is Sylvester the Cat with Tweety’s tail feathers dangling out of his mouth. “Why did she want to do that?”
“Objection—hearsay.” Sevillas’s voice is rote. He knows Hempstead will overrule him. She does so with a wave of her hand.
Marianne’s eyes are clear blue. “She was desperate to retrieve whatever logs or notes the staff had recorded about Max. She was convinced that the entire hospital staff was fabricating his symptoms.” She shakes her head sadly. “Of course, I told her not only no, but absolutely no. I’m afraid I was a bit harsh with her, Judge. I informed her that, for better
or worse, I have a very strong moral code and could never be party to such a thing.”
Sevillas closes his eyes and wonders if it will ever end.
“What happened then?”
Marianne shrugs. “She told me she intended to have those records and that if I wouldn’t help her, she’d do it herself.”
“And to your knowledge, did Ms. Parkman in fact hack into the Maitland computer system?”
“I have to assume she did,” Marianne says calmly. “Later that week, she told me that she had looked at Max’s records and just knew that the hospital, for whatever reason, was falsifying them.”
Hempstead raises her eyebrows and casts a glance Sevillas’s way. He does not react. Langley presses on. “Did you learn anything else?”
Marianne looks directly at Hempstead. “She told me that after she read the reports, she got furious. Then she told me that she went back to his records—and changed them.”
Sevillas shakes his head. She’s lying through her teeth—he’s sure of that—but he doesn’t have a witness, much less a client, to rebut her. It makes his skin crawl. He glances at Georgia, who seems to be having as difficult a time remaining silent as Max is. She gives him a sympathetic look. She knows that when you get slammed, you get slammed and go on.
Langley walks slowly in front of the judge. “She altered professional psychiatric records of her son?”
“That’s certainly what she told me.”
“Did you ask her why she would do such a thing?”
Marianne looks at him with troubled eyes. “Frankly, Mr. Langley, I was a bit afraid to delve into it too deeply. She seemed so, well, disturbed.”
Langley casts a warning look, and Marianne stops. “Thank you, Mrs. Morrison.”
Sevillas watches as Langley pulls something from a large, brown envelope. Before he realizes it, he is standing, an objection on his lips. Before he can speak, Langley yanks something made of metal the rest of the way out of the envelope and holds it above his head, right in front of Marianne. She recoils and gasps as Sevillas leaps forward.
“Judge!” he yells. “Objection! Whatever that is, it has not been properly introduced as evidence. The State has produced no murder weapon, and they’re not entitled to start waving things around the courtroom without prior disclosure—”
“Judge, we have no intention of doing anything that violates the court’s order.”
A tropical disturbance forms on Hempstead’s face. “Approach.” When they stand before her, she leans forward and says in a stage whisper, “Just what are you trying to pull here, Mr. Langley?”
“Nothing, Your Honor. We have no intention of asking Ms. Morrison whether or not this is the murder weapon. We merely want to establish that she has seen a comb like this in the possession of the defendants at one time or another.”
Sevillas barks out a short laugh. “Oh, right, Judge.” He holds out his arms expansively. “Let’s just wave it around—whatever it is—without laying any foundation or establishing a chain of custody. He hasn’t even shown it to the M.E. to ascertain if it even remotely resembles their alleged murder weapon. In the meantime, he’s prejudicing the hell out of my clients.”
Hempstead looks keenly at Langley. “Are you claiming that this object is in fact the murder weapon you say was found at the scene?”
“No, Your Honor, we’re not.”
“Have you found the object you’re claiming was used in the alleged murder?”
Langley shakes his head. “We haven’t exactly located it yet, but this comb is just like the one in Ms. Parkman’s possession.”
“And how do we know that?”
“Because we went to the same beauty parlor where Ms. Parkman got her hair done, and the stylist gave us this comb and told us it was exactly the same one she sold to the defendant.” He stops for breath.
Sevillas slaps a palm on the bench. “Your Honor, so what if he says this one is supposed to ‘look like’ whatever comb they say they found at the scene? The fact remains that they’ve produced no comb, and now they’re trying to prejudice my client by introducing this one into evidence through the back door. Our objection stands.”
Hempstead looks at the comb and clears her throat. “Mr. Sevillas, ordinarily I would sustain your objection as well-founded. If we were in front of a jury, I would agree that the possibility of prejudice is high indeed.” She turns to Langley. “However, we are not involved in a trial, but in an evidentiary proceeding. I am, as I have repeatedly stated, very capable of separating wheat from chaff without danger of prejudice. I will permit you to follow this line of questioning.” Langley’s face breaks into an expression of relief. “However, I will terminate this entire inquiry if you attempt—even once—to imply that the comb you have in your hand is in any way related to the injuries of Jonas Morrison.” She shakes a warning finger at him. “Are we clear?”
He nods vigorously. “Of course, Judge.”
Sevillas turns on his heel without even bothering to ac knowledge the judge’s ruling. He stalks back and throws his pen on top of his legal pad. Max’s face is still the same shade of powder white it was when Langley dropped the murder
weapon. This time when Sevillas sits down it is Max who grasps his hand.
Langley returns to the witness box and thrusts the comb in front of her. “Ms. Morrison, I have here an object marked as Exhibit C, which I would appreciate your identifying.”
Marianne sees the comb at close range and clutches her throat. A small cry escapes from her. “Oh!” she gasps. “Is that—?”
Langley interrupts her quickly and firmly. “I must ask you not to make any comments unrelated to my specific questions about this object. Can you do that?”
Marianne flushes a pretty shade of pink. “Yes, well, I’ll try…”
“Ms. Morrison, what do you see before you?”
“Why, it’s a comb, Mr. Langley.”
“Have you ever seen a comb like this before?”
“I most certainly have.”
“Where?”
“I’ve seen one exactly like that at Maitland.”
“And whose was it, to your knowledge?”
“It was Danielle’s.”
“How do you know that?”
“Well, she kept it in her purse, and I saw her use it on numerous occasions.” She turns to the judge. “She got a permanent wave right after she put Max in Maitland, Your Honor.” She pauses. “I saw her use it all the time.”
Langley walks slowly toward the defense table. He stops there and crosses his arms. “Ms. Morrison, I want to thank you for coming here today and giving us testimony that was difficult and painful for you. I just have one more question. Are you aware that part of the reason we’re here today is because Ms. Parkman has requested that she remain out on bail before her trial?”