Chase, the Bad Baby: A Legal and Medical Thriller (Thaddeus Murfee Legal Thriller Series Book 4)

by John Ellsworth

  A.W chimed in. “I can answer that. We’ve discovered a second set of nurses’ notes. We’re trying to sort out which ones are real.”

  Thaddeus smiled a wide smile. “Give me five more minutes with my witness after the break. She’s prepared to sort that out for you. She’s going to save you a lot of stumbling around in the dark, Mr. Marentz. Stumbling around in the dark like you’ve had me doing this past six months. Yes, we’re going to tell the jury about real records and phony records. Judge, can we return to the courtroom now and let me finish with my witness?”

  “We can. Counsel—” He looked directly at A.W. Marentz. “We’re not finished here. We will get to the bottom of record turnover before we’re finished here today.”

  They returned to the courtroom, whereupon Thaddeus remained standing and addressed Judge Moody.

  “Judge, I would like to call another witness at this moment, a witness about the nurses’ notes. Then I would like to recall Major Mounce after that.”

  “No objection,” said Morgana. She and A.W gave each other a quick look of relief to see the trial going sideways, even for a minute.

  “Very well,” said the Judge, “call your next witness.”

  Thaddeus spoke loud and clear. “Plaintiff calls A.W. Marentz to the stand.”

  General pandemonium broke out, against a backdrop of both defense lawyers bolting to their feet, whispers among the gallery, and the jurors nudging one another.

  “Silence!” said the judge. “You may proceed.”

  “Objection!” cried A.W. “I can’t be called as witness. I don’t know anything.”

  Thaddeus responded, to the judge. “Your Honor, Mister Marentz just told you in chambers that he was working to sort out the new records that he had discovered. I just want to ask him what he knows, since he’s been in the chain-of-custody of those records.”

  The judge looked at A.W. “Do you wish to respond? My inclination is to allow Mister Murfee to go forward.”

  “Sure, Judge,” said A.W., doing a complete about-face. “I’ll be happy to tell what I know.”

  He took the witness stand, gave his name, professional address, and answered several questions about his role in the case as defense counsel.

  Then Thaddeus asked, “How come the jury now has two totally different exhibits of nurses’ notes from your client, the hospital?”

  “Sir, I don’t know,” the old man said. “But we’re looking into that.”

  “Well, let’s do it this way. The nurses’ notes that you first turned over. Where did those come from?”

  “From my client, Hudd Family Healthcare.”

  “And where did they get those notes from?”

  “From their records in-house, I would imagine.”

  Thaddeus nodded. “Did you ever talk to the records custodian about the origin of those records?”

  “I did not.”

  “So you just assumed your client was telling you the truth when they told you they were giving you their records?”

  “I assumed so, yes. Why wouldn’t I?”

  “Now we’ve found Major Mounce has been given a second set of nurses’ notes. From a man who said he was from the hospital, correct?”

  “That’s what she said.”

  “Who would that man be?”

  A.W. shrugged. “I can tell you, I don’t have the slightest idea. He wasn’t anyone I know about.”

  “Do you deny that he turned over to her the real nurses’ notes?”

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  “Well, you were in the courtroom when she testified and you heard her?”

  “Yes.”

  “I mean, there’s nothing wrong with your hearing?”

  “Nothing wrong there.”

  “So you have no reason to disagree with what she said, that the records you gave the jury were a complete fraud?”

  “I can’t disagree. They weren’t meant as a fraud, however.”

  “You don’t disagree they are a fraud?”

  “Depends on what you mean by a fraud.”

  Thaddeus moved a step closer. “Well, let’s think about that. If the jury had sent this brain-damaged baby home without a cent because of your phony records, would that be a fraud?”

  “I can’t answer that.”

  “Can’t, or won’t?”

  “Both. I think I need to talk to my own lawyer.”

  “Are you taking the Fifth Amendment now?”

  A.W.’s face had drained of color. His normally pink cheeks were white like chalk. “I certainly don’t intend to sit here and incriminate myself.”

  “Do you think you might be guilty of a crime?”

  “No—I don’t know. That’s why I’d like to talk to my lawyer first.”

  “So there might be a crime, it’s that serious, to your way of thinking?”

  A.W let out a long sigh. “Perhaps. I don’t know. I just don’t want to take a chance.”

  Thaddeus stepped back. “That is all. You’re excused. Unless attorney Bridgman wants to question you.”

  Morgana stood. “No questions.”

  “You may be excused,” said the judge. “And we’ll break now for our afternoon recess.”

  Thaddeus allowed the courtroom to clear out ahead of him. He remained behind for ten minutes. Then he heard the courtroom door open behind him in the otherwise empty courtroom.

  “Hello, Mister Hudd,” Thaddeus said.

  “Counselor,” said Manny. “How goes it today?”

  Thaddeus smiled and chuckled. “I hear you now work for the hospital.”

  “Only long enough to pass a stack of records to a certain Major this morning.”

  “Well done.”

  “Indeed.”

  “Are you ready to testify?”

  “Indeed.”

  Thaddeus smiled and shook his hand. “Welcome aboard. I’ve been looking for a smart young lawyer to help with my cases.”

  “You’ve been busy, then?”

  “Indeed.”

  54

  On the fifth and sixth days of trial the defense pulled out all the stops. But it was clear from the start that the defense case had been gutted by the truth about its records. “A bell once rung cannot be unrung” had never been more true. The jury had heard about the fraudulent records and had all but turned on TVs and succumbed to knitting as they ignored everything the defense witnesses had to say. At long last—blessed relief—the defense case was all in.

  A.W made it official. “Defense rests, Your Honor.”

  Thaddeus took to his feet. “Your Honor, the plaintiff has one rebuttal witness to call.”

  Judge Moody looked up. “And who would that be?” he inquired.

  “Manny Rodriguez.”

  A.W was instantly on his feet, objecting and sputtering about the sanctity of the attorney-client relationship and how Manny couldn’t be called to testify about his client.

  Thaddeus said, “We have the right to call him, it’s rebuttal.”

  Judge Moody moved his hands forward and pointed an index finger at Thaddeus and A.W. “Gentlemen, approach the bench.”

  The jurors as one rolled their eyes as the lawyers took up their spots before the judge’s throne and began speaking in angry whispers.

  A.W went first. “Your Honor, this is unethical and must be barred. Further, counsel for the plaintiff should be censured by the court for this.”

  “I’m only trying to call a witness, Judge.”

  The judge looked sharply at Thaddeus. “Mister Murfee, don’t try the feigned innocence with me. You know damn good and well you cannot call a former member of the defense team to testify.”

  Thaddeus leaned in and raised his voice a notch. “That’s just it. He was never a member of the defense team.”

  A.W. exploded and his whisper carried throughout the room. “Ridiculous, of course he was!”

  Judge Moody extended a palm. “Keep your voice down, Mr. Marentz. Mr. Murfee, ask Manny Rodriguez to step up here.”

&nbs
p; The waters parted and Manny joined the bench conference.

  The judge began, “Mister Rodriguez, were you a member of the defense team in this case?”

  “I was not.”

  A.W reared back and roared, “That’s a blatant lie! Of course you were!”

  Judge Moody indicated come here to A.W. “Raise your voice once more in my courtroom and you’ll spend the weekend in jail. Do you understand me?”

  A.W. meekly replied, “I do. Sorry.”

  Manny continued. “According to the Jones Marentz staffing partner, who is also the managing partner, I was never a member of the defense team.”

  Judge Moody frowned, frustrated. “A.W. says you were, you say you weren’t. Mister Murfee, I’m afraid the defense wins on this one. He cannot testify.”

  Manny held up his iPhone. “Judge, can I play a recording off my cell phone?”

  “What would I be listening to?”

  “The staffing partner, Carson Palmer. Then me. It’s just a single exchange, but it will make the point.”

  “Very well. But keep it low.”

  Manny clicked PLAY. “Mr. Palmer. You’re saying I’m terminated and I’m no longer a member of the Hudd Family defense team?”

  Carson Palmer, on the recording, answered, “You, sir, were never a member of the Hudd Family defense team. Now get your stuff and get out.”

  Thaddeus smiled and Manny returned the phone to his pocket. Judge Moody glared at A.W.

  The judge made his ruling loud enough for those even out in the hallway to hear. “Mr. Murfee, you may call your final witness, Manny Rodriguez. The court specifically finds that Mr. Rodriguez was never a member of the defense team.”

  All attorneys resumed their seats at counsel table. Manny took his place in the witness chair.

  Thaddeus began, “State your name.”

  “Manuel Rodriguez.”

  “Mr. Rodriguez are you prepared to tell the jury what you know about Hudd Hospital Chicago and Dr. Phillip Payne and how medical records were altered by these two defendants?”

  A.W. leapt to his feet. “Objection!”

  “Overruled,” the judge said almost nonchalantly. “Please continue.”

  Manny continued his testimony. He explained how records were altered, records were shredded, records were switched out and phony records switched in, and how records were saved to the cloud computing location.

  When he was finished, Thaddeus proffered the witness to A.W.

  “No questions,” said the founding partner.

  The jury stared at the floor.

  Defense table eye contact was avoided and no one was smiling.

  55

  The afternoon light lay low across the courtyard, a horizontal plane seeking entry into the dim courtroom. Overheads had been clicked to BRIGHT settings and everyone was tired. The jury was out, the judge had retired to chambers, and the lawyers were sitting with their feet propped up, making calls on their cell phones and surfing on their laptops.

  At long last, the bailiff stuck his head in and announced a verdict. Immediately the lawyers hopped to, arranging themselves and straightening ties, leaping to their feet as Judge Moody appeared as if an apparition that walked through the wall, floated to his lofty place and spread his wings as he settled. The jury filed in and took their customary seats in the jury box.

  Judge Moody said, “Madam Foreperson, has the jury returned its verdict?”

  “We have, Your Honor.”

  “Please read the verdict out loud.”

  “We the jury do find in favor of the plaintiff Chase Staples and award him damages in the amount of fifty million dollars.”

  Judge Moody nodded solemnly. “That’s it, then?”

  “And we award punitive damages for destroying records and conspiring to destroy this baby’s life of one hundred fifty million dollars. Now that’s it.”

  Bedlam erupted. Chase cried, John Staples swung him in his arms, Latoya sobbed, Christine shook Thaddeus’ hand, and Manny cheered from the back row. Until the judge gave him a long, severe look. Then the lawyer left the courtroom.

  * * *

  Thirty minutes later a scene took place on the courthouse sidewalk. Morgana and A.W were standing toe to toe. A.W was gesturing furiously.

  “Those records could only have come from you!” the senior litigator cried.

  “You’re right.”

  “But why?”

  She shrugged and wrapped her arms around herself. “Let’s just say I decided to settle the case without you or Sandy.”

  “I have already called the office. Your check has been seized. No more pay for you. Your benefits have been cut off. Your 401(k) is frozen pending the result of our lawsuit against you. Which will be filed at eight o’clock in the morning.”

  “I’ll get another job. Or maybe not.”

  “Your American Express is canceled.”

  “I have other cards.”

  “Your partnership is rescinded. You’ve been terminated.”

  “I never liked my partners. You’re all crazy as bat shit.”

  “And Judge Moody has turned this case over to the U.S. Attorney for prosecution. You’re headed for federal penitentiary time for perjury.”

  “You’ve got me there.”

  “You’ll lose your law license. That’s a given.”

  “I’ll coach junior high girls’ basketball.”

  “We’ll see that you never coach at any school.”

  “No, that I doubt you can do. This is a pretty big country and there are lots of little kids who need a great coach.”

  The old man’s Mercedes pulled to the curb and flashed its lights. A.W. stormed away and climbed into the back seat of the black limousine. It roared away from the curb and disappeared into traffic. Morgana watched the limo disappear, then looked up and down the street. No cabs were in sight. Just then, a weathered old Crown Victoria pulled over to the curb. It was Latoya and she leaned across the seat and rolled down the window.

  Latoya smiled and motioned her over. “Going somewhere?”

  “I have six blocks to walk to my car.”

  “Need a ride?

  “I do. I do need a ride.”

  “Hop in. Climb in back with John and Chase.”

  Morgana crossed around to the traffic side and climbed in the back seat. Chase sat next to her in his car seat. For once the baby was reasonably happy. Morgana sat back, put her arm up around Chase, and a smile came to her face.

  Morgana tweaked his foot and laughed, “Chase, could you spare me a hundred until payday?”

  The old Crown Vic rolled away from the curb in a haze of smoke and disappeared into rush hour traffic.

  56

  They chose Iowa City because of the college influence and the validating effect that liberal institution would have on same sex couples.

  Caroline and Morgana piled their luggage into the yellow cab’s trunk and climbed in the back seat. The flight from Chicago had been uneventful though bumpy due to low-hanging cumulus over central Iowa. They rode the cab into downtown Iowa City and the driver pulled in at the Sheraton Hotel drive-through. After check-in they found their room and ordered room service.

  “Now to find City Hall,” said Morgana. “And get a license.”

  “Is there a waiting period? Blood tests? Any of that crap?” asked Caroline.

  “Unknown. Let me call City Hall.”

  They found that they could obtain the license from Johnson County and there would be a three-day waiting period. They had arrived on Thursday so the license would be valid on Monday.

  They took a cab, went to the Johnson County desk, paid the thirty-five dollars, signed papers, and had their license.

  They ran back outside, squealing and laughing, Morgana waving the license and showing pedestrians, who would smile and nod and step around her.

  They caught a cab back to the hotel, ordered room service again, and began scanning for in-room videos. It was going to take Friday plus the weekend, but they had p
lenty of sightseeing planned and exulted at being together with no interruptions.

  “We’re putting the honeymoon before the marriage,” said Morgana. “Any objections from the crowd?”

  “Not here,” Caroline laughed.

  “Hearing none, let the movies, lovemaking, and sightseeing begin. Not to mention the seafood. I want lobster tonight.”

  “Done.”

  “By the way, do I have a job yet?”

  “None!”

  “Then let the party begin!”

  57

  They were married eight weeks when the pain became too difficult to bear without a constant drip. She found herself tethered to a pole. Which meant she was spending long periods in bed. Morgana’s pancreatic cancer was a death warrant. She was Stage IV and the five-year survival rate was one percent. Morphine was the treatment modality for the severe back pain she was experiencing.

  The pain grew worse, much worse. The added morphine was leaving her increasingly drowsy and nauseous.

  Ten weeks out, the morphine’s effectiveness abruptly fell off. Additional opiates were prescribed, which would help for a few days, then those would fall away as well.

  Caroline was with her constantly, leaving her bedside only to bring water and obtain medical marijuana. Illinois had at long last implemented a pilot program and twenty-two grow labs around the state were selling out faster than the pot could be produced. Dr. Rabinowitz prescribed the marijuana for Morgana’s nausea and the pot did actually help her in occasionally eating, though by then most sustenance arrived in a tube that snaked into the back of her hand.

  Twelve weeks out she was in constant pain so severe that when she was conscious she was crying and begging Caroline to do something.

  “I’ve called Doctor Rabinowitz. He wants you to go to hospice.”

  “I won’t leave our home!” Morgana cried. “This is where I choose to die, at home, in my own bed!”

  “I’ll call him again.”

  But she was dying and there was no more help. Dr. Rabinowitz paid a house call and held Morgana’s hand while he spoke to her in very soothing tones. “There’s nothing else I can offer, Morgana. We’ve done all we can for you. We can step up the morphine but you’ll be rendered unconscious. Is that what you choose for me to do?”