Out of the Darkness

by Robert D. McKee

  He rounded the lectern and once again stood behind it. He turned his gaze to the defense table and raised his arm toward Chester. “This is a special sort of man, my friends. He is a man who possesses a unique kind of evil. It is an evil of arrogance. It is an evil that sickens a man’s mind to the point where he believes that he is above the law—all law, both man’s and God’s. It is an evil arrogance, gentlemen, which gives a man the ability and the stomach to insert cold steel into a girl and wrench and tear in bits and pieces the life from inside her young womb.”

  Blythe turned and walked back to the prosecution’s table. For a moment Micah thought the man was finished, but Blythe only poured himself a tumbler of water, took a long drink, and returned to the lectern. When Blythe began again, Micah realized that during Blythe’s pause for water, the violent image of cold steel in the young girl’s womb had been turning over in Micah’s mind. He expected the same image was at work in the mind of every juror, and by taking the time to pour himself a glass of water, Blythe had been clever enough to give it the opportunity to dig itself in.

  “It is an evil unlike most we see,” Blythe continued. “The man who kills in love, at least, has killed for passion. The man who kills in greed, at least, has killed for riches. In the presentation of our case, we will show you that this man has killed for nothing more than his own selfish arrogance, an arrogance that he feels allows him to decide who enters this world and who does not. And I say to you, that, gentlemen, is a decision only God can make, not Dr. Hedstrom.”

  Up to this point Blythe had been speaking extemporaneously. Now he returned to counsel table and came back with some notes. “The crime of abortion,” he began again, “is not one that takes place in a crowded room. The state will be calling only three witnesses. I will list them for you now, although we will not necessarily call them in this order. One will be brief. Miss Polly Pratt. I will admit to a real fondness for Miss Pratt. I have known her most of her life. She is a wonderful girl. She has made some unfortunate decisions in the course of the last year. But if we search our hearts, who among us has not? Youth is a liquor so intoxicating it takes years to sober up. It is fortunate for most of us, the ramifications of our actions are never made as public as poor Polly’s. But I am here to tell you, gentlemen—” Blythe turned to the spectators in the darkness beyond the stage. “—and I say to every member of this community—that I do not chasten Polly Pratt for what has happened. I do not blame Polly for the deeds of this man.” Again, he jabbed a finger at Chester. “She was a girl in a desperate situation, and instead of offering her good Christian counseling, as any righteous man would have done, Dr. Hedstrom, in his arrogance, offered her his knife.”

  Blythe had brought his voice to a crescendo, and now he paused just the right length of time before beginning again. Micah was impressed.

  “It is my belief the state could prove its case by asking Miss Pratt four simple questions. And we will ask those questions of her and no more. I am not here to bring shame to Polly Pratt. I will ask her four questions, and I will sit down. That, gentlemen, will prove our case, but we shall not stop there.

  “We shall then call Mrs. Jane Eggers. Mrs. Eggers, you will see, is a woman of extreme courage and principle. She was a woman in Dr. Hedstrom’s employ. She is a well-trained and highly skilled nurse who was accustomed to assisting in every procedure the doctor performed in his surgery. You can imagine her surprise when the doctor ordered her to prepare the surgery, but once she had done that, he dismissed her without explanation. Naturally, this good woman’s suspicions were aroused, and she—” Blythe stopped. “No,” he said. “I will allow Mrs. Eggers to tell what she observed in her own words.

  “I submit to you, though, gentlemen, the State of Wyoming could prove its case with nothing more than the testimony of Mrs. Eggers, but, again, we shall not stop there.

  “Yes, there is even more.” Blythe crossed once more to the prosecution’s table and returned with a single sheet of paper. “Finally, we will call Sheriff Brad Collins. And he will describe to you, my friends, the ultimate arrogance. He will tell you how, bold-faced and without remorse, this man—” Again he aimed his finger at Chester. “—admitted to what he had done. The sheriff will describe to you how Dr. Hedstrom, in gloating defiance of his authority, told Mr. Anderson, the prosecuting attorney, of his crime. He will tell you how the doctor, while sitting in the clinic where the crime had taken place, described how he tore this innocent child from the body of its desperate young mother.”

  Without thinking, Micah found himself on his feet. “Objection, Your Honor,” he called out. Micah knew that rarely did one attorney object during another’s opening statement or closing argument. It wasn’t prohibited, but it wasn’t the sort of thing that was done. Certain leeway was allowed.

  Walker peered over the tops of his spectacles. “Grounds, Mr. McConners?”

  “Well, Your Honor, unless Mr. Blythe has in his possession something the defense has not been provided, he has misstated the evidence as we know it to exist. According to the affidavit the sheriff has provided to all counsel, there was no mention in the doctor’s statement to the sheriff and the prosecutor of tearing a child from the young woman’s body. He is attempting to inflame the jury against my client, and I object.”

  “Is that the sheriff’s affidavit, Mr. Blythe?”

  “Yes, Your Honor, it is.”

  “Let me see it,” said the judge.

  Blythe handed it over, and Walker scanned it, handed it back, and said matter-of-factly, “Sustained. The jury is to disregard the counsel’s comments regarding the doctor’s admitting to tearing the infant from the womb, or whatever it was he said. You may continue, Mr. Blythe.”

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” Blythe said, and returned to the lectern.

  As Micah sat down he realized the churning he’d felt in his stomach had stopped.

  He took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. For better or worse, he told himself, the battle was on.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The judge peered down at the woman and asked, “Madam, in the testimony you are about to give, do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

  “Yes, sir, I surely do,” she said.

  Walker nodded toward the chair beside his bench. “You may take the stand.”

  Blythe lifted the lectern from in front of the jury and faced it toward the witness.

  After the objection, Thomas Blythe’s opening statement had continued for another hour. From Micah’s perspective of the technical aspects of the opening, the man’s demeanor and fervent choice of words were flawless. It was an exercise in eloquence, never once becoming boring. But Micah wondered if the jury felt the same. It was clear Blythe had them for at least the first forty-five minutes, but long before the end, Micah noticed many of the jurors were shifting in their seats. For that reason, Micah kept his own opening to less than fifteen minutes, and he could sense the gratitude of not only the jurors but the judge as well.

  “Would you state your name for the record, please?” Blythe asked.

  “My name is Jane Eggers.”

  “Is it Miss or Mrs. Eggers?”

  “It is Mrs. I have been a widow now for going on fifteen years.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, Mrs. Eggers. Tell us how you have supported yourself in those fifteen years.”

  “In many ways. I have been a housekeeper, cook, nurse, and matron in a school for young women. My most recent employment was with Dr. Hedstrom.”

  “Would that be Dr. Chester Hedstrom of Probity, Wyoming, Mrs. Eggers?”

  “It would.”

  “Would you point to the doctor, please, if you see him in the courtroom?”

  The woman hefted her flabby arm toward the defense table. “Right there,” she said. “The big one.”

  Blythe asked the judge, “Your Honor, may the record reflect that the witness identified the defendant?”

  The judge leaned forwar
d in his chair, looked down at the reporter, and asked in his no-nonsense voice, “Jeb, did you write down what this woman said?”

  “I sure did, Judge.”

  “I expected that you had.” Walker turned his gaze to Blythe. “Mr. Blythe, there is no need to make superfluous requests of the court. Let’s trust our reporter to do his job, shall we?”

  “Of course, Judge. I was merely noting—” Blythe began, but he stopped when Walker’s eyebrows rose an inch. “Yes, sir,” he said. “Thank you, Your Honor.”

  Micah was aware that Blythe and Walker had known each other for years and were, according to the rumor, good friends, but there was no doubt who was in charge in the courtroom.

  Blythe turned back to the witness. “Tell us, Mrs. Eggers, how long you were in the employ of Dr. Hedstrom.”

  “A little more than a year. A year and two months, to be exact.”

  “How did you come to leave his employ?”

  The woman glared at Chester. “I was dismissed,” she said. “Dismissed without so much as a warning.”

  “You were given no notice whatsoever?”

  “None. In fact, I was thrown from the man’s house in the middle of the night without even a change of clothes.” She had taken the stand holding a lace handkerchief, which she now dabbed at her eyes.

  “We will come back to that in a moment, Mrs. Eggers.” Blythe added in a just-right solicitous tone, “Are you capable of proceeding? Would you care for some water?”

  Mrs. Eggers sniffed and said, “Yes, please.”

  Blythe poured the woman a glass of water and waited until she composed herself. “Now, Mrs. Eggers,” he began again, “what were your duties with Dr. Hedstrom?”

  “Everything. I was his housekeeper, his cook.”

  “Did you have duties in his medical practice as well?”

  “Oh, most definitely. I’m sure that was the main reason the doctor hired me in the first place, was my skills as a nurse, particularly a surgical nurse. But I did everything for him in his practice. I scheduled patients. Kept the records. Everything that was needed.”

  “Would you say the doctor respected your abilities as a nurse, Mrs. Eggers?”

  Micah stood. “Objection, Your Honor. That calls for speculation on the part of the witness.”

  “Response, Mr. Blythe?” asked the judge.

  “Yes, Your Honor. I suppose, in a sense, young Mr. McConners is correct. Arguably, at least on the surface, the question does ask the witness to speculate as to what is in the mind of her employer. But I would suggest, Judge, that it is the rare employee who does not have a feel for his position and place in the mind of the individual supervising him in his daily activities. I would suggest that—”

  “That’s enough, Mr. Blythe,” the judge interrupted. “The objection is overruled.” He turned to the witness. “You may answer the question.”

  “Would you repeat the question?” Mrs. Eggers asked.

  Blythe looked to the reporter. “Mr. Blake?”

  Jeb Blake flipped a page back in his notebook, scanned the notes, then read, “ ‘Would you say the doctor respected your abilities as a nurse, Mrs. Eggers?’ ”

  Blythe turned back to the witness. “You may answer that, madam.”

  Mrs. Eggers’s already voluminous breasts seemed to puff up. “Oh, yes,” she said. “There were any number of times when he told me what a fine, fine nurse I was. He thought I was especially good at making the patients feel at ease—you know, making them feel comfortable.”

  “What horse shit,” Chester whispered. Micah nodded but didn’t respond.

  “When was it that you were dismissed from the doctor’s employ? What was the date?”

  “August 27. I remember it well.”

  “Nineteen hundred?”

  “Yes, sir, this August past.”

  “Describe that day for me, Mrs. Eggers. What you did. What the doctor did.”

  “Describe it?” she asked.

  “Yes, did anything unusual happen that day?”

  “Well, I’d say. I was sacked from my position. I thought that was unusual.” Although the jury didn’t react, there was a smattering of laughter among the spectators.

  “Yes, of course,” Blythe acknowledged, “but I mean other than that. Start when you woke that morning and take us in detail through your day.”

  “I woke at my usual time,” Mrs. Eggers began. “I went downstairs, put on the coffee, prepared breakfast. On Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Sundays, the doctor likes oatmeal for his breakfast. On the other days he likes bacon and eggs. This was a Monday, I believe, so I prepared the oatmeal—”

  “Pardon me, madam,” Blythe said, “but you needn’t provide quite so much detail.” This time even the jury joined in the laughter. “Please provide us with a general overview of the day. If I want anything more, I will ask a specific question.”

  It was clear that Mrs. Eggers did not appreciate being the object of laughter to so many people. She pulled herself up straighter in the chair and folded her hands in her lap. “After I made the doctor’s oatmeal,” she said, “I called him down. Usually he was already down by the time breakfast was ready, but not on that day. When he still didn’t come down after I called, I went upstairs and found he wasn’t in his room.”

  “Did you find that odd?” Blythe asked.

  “Yes, it wasn’t like him at all. When I returned to the kitchen, though, I heard the sound of that motorized bicycle of his. I hate that thing,” she said. “It scares the animals, and it makes—”

  “Please, Mrs. Eggers, let’s try to keep to the topic at hand.”

  Mrs. Eggers gave Blythe a disgusted look.

  “Did you ask the doctor where he had been?”

  “Well, Dr. Hedstrom is a man with a mind of his own. Everyone thinks he’s a jovial, friendly fellow, but I can tell you, sir, that is not the case. In the privacy of his home, he can be a beast. You do not pry into his—”

  Micah was on his feet. “I object, Your Honor. The answer in not responsive to the question.”

  “Sustained,” Walker said.

  “Let me try that again,” said Mr. Blythe. “Did you ask the doctor where he’d been so early in the morning, Mrs. Eggers?”

  “No, sir, I did not. I didn’t want to get my head bitten off.”

  Micah considered letting that one go by, but Jackson nudged him with his elbow, and Micah rose. “Objection, Your—”

  “Sustained,” said the judge before Micah could say any more.

  “Please, Mrs. Eggers,” Blythe said, “listen to the question and answer only the question. Will you do that for me?”

  Mrs. Eggers’s bosom rose in a huff. “I thought that was what I was doing,” she said.

  “So the answer is, no, you did not ask the doctor where he had been or what he had been doing so early in the morning. Is that correct?”

  “Yes,” Mrs. Eggers said and pursed her lips together.

  “Very good,” said Blythe in a tone that suggested he was happy to be past that question. “Let’s start at the time when the doctor began seeing patients. What time was that?”

  “Patients are always scheduled between eight o’clock in the morning and four o’clock in the afternoon. As I recall, on that day the morning was full, but the only person scheduled for the afternoon was Polly Pratt.”

  “Was Miss Pratt ill?”

  “She’d had some kind of an accident the week before, and the doctor had taken a couple of stitches. She was coming in to have the stitches removed.”

  “Did anything unusual happen during the course of the day up to the time of Miss Pratt’s arrival?”

  “No, not that I recall. The doctor was being moody, is all.”

  “Would you describe Dr. Hedstrom as a particularly moody man?”

  “Objection, Your Honor,” Micah said.

  “Grounds?” asked the judge.

  “Relevance.”

  The judge seemed to ponder that for a bit, and after giving it some t
hought, said, “Overruled.”

  Jackson tugged hard on Micah’s sleeve, jerking him down so he could whisper in his ear.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Clark,” Judge Walker said, “did you have an objection you wished to make?”

  “Well, sir, Judge,” Jackson said as he came to his feet, “I did have, but I supposed you didn’t allow two lawyers making objections at the same time.”

  “As a rule I don’t, but since I can still remember what it was like to be a young attorney, I expect that’s Mr. McConner’s only suit, and my guess is he would rather the sleeve not be torn off. What’s your objection?”

  “Foundation,” Jackson said.

  “Sustained,” said the judge.

  “Thank you, Your Honor,” Blythe said. And Micah thought he could hear a speck of sarcasm.

  “How long did you say you were in the doctor’s employ?” asked Blythe.

  “Over a year.”

  “And your duties were housekeeper, cook, and nurse?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You lived in the doctor’s home.”

  “I had my rooms.”

  “Yes, and you spent the greatest portion of your day either in his clinic or his house; is that correct?”

  “I spent most all of every day in one or the other of those places, except, of course, for church on Sundays and Wednesday nights.”

  “Would you say that over the course of the year you worked for Dr. Hedstrom you became acquainted with his manner?”