Out of the Darkness

by Robert D. McKee

  Blythe was on his feet again. “That was a wonderful speech, Judge, but the fact remains that the question is irrelevant.”

  Walker poured himself a glass of water, took a sip, and replaced the tumbler beside the pitcher. “Well, Mr. McConners, the prosecutor is right. That question is irrelevant to the specific charge against your client.”

  Micah felt his insides drop. “Very well, Judge,” he said. He hoped the defeat he was feeling didn’t echo in his voice. “I’ll move on to something else.”

  “Now, wait a minute. I haven’t made my ruling yet.” He took another sip of his water, again replaced the tumbler, looked down at Blythe, and said, “Overruled.”

  Micah felt a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “You may answer the question, Miss Pratt. Who was it who raped you on June 14, 1900?”

  “Hank Jones,” said Polly, “and my stepbrother, Sonny Pratt.”

  This time there was more than a stirring in the room. There was the surprised exclamations of a couple of hundred voices.

  Walker allowed it to go on for a few seconds. “All right,” he finally said, “everybody hold it down.”

  “Polly,” Micah said, “I’ll not ask you details about the rape. But I do want to know, were there any threats made against you at that time?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you tell us about that?”

  “As they were leaving, Sonny took his knife and held it up to my face. He said if I ever told anyone what had happened, he would cut my throat.”

  “Did you ever tell anyone, Polly?”

  “Not right away, no. I was too afraid and ashamed.”

  “Did you tell anyone later?”

  “Yes, eventually I did.”

  “Who?”

  “My mother.”

  “At what point did you tell her?”

  “A couple of months later, when I realized I was pregnant.”

  “Why didn’t you go to the authorities, Polly? Why didn’t you inform the law of this crime against you?”

  Polly turned her gaze on Earl Anderson. “Because nothing would be done, and Sonny would have carried out his threat.”

  “Do you really believe Sonny Pratt would have killed you, Polly?”

  “I am certain of it,” she said. And in a near whisper she added, “I expect he will yet.”

  “Why do you say that, Polly?”

  “Because I know he murdered Lester Jones, and last night he fired a shot into the house where I was sleeping.”

  “Objection, Your Honor,” shouted Thomas Blythe. “This is irrelevant and absolute conjecture on the part of the witness.”

  “Sustained,” ruled the judge.

  “Polly,” asked Micah, “have you seen Sonny Pratt since the day he raped you?”

  “My mother and I moved out of the house after I told her what had happened. I’ve seen Sonny only twice since.”

  “Why did you move out?”

  “My mother told my stepfather, Emmett, about the rape, and when he didn’t believe her and wouldn’t do anything about it, we moved into Mrs. Jordan’s.”

  “You say you’ve seen Sonny twice since that time?”

  “Yes.”

  “What were those circumstances?”

  “Your Honor,” said Blythe, “I have to object.”

  “Overruled,” said the judge.

  “The first time was on the day of your return, Mr. McConners. Late that afternoon, I left the party they had for you in the park to walk the few blocks back to our boarding house, and Sonny attacked me. He beat me so badly Dr. Hedstrom had to suture my face.”

  “Again, Your Honor,” objected Blythe, “I must—”

  “Overruled.”

  “In addition to the beating, did he threaten you again at that time?”

  “He did. He said no one had better ever find out what he and Hank had done.”

  “Did he know of the pregnancy, Polly?”

  “Yes, I told him that night. That’s when he started to hit me. He said I should leave the county to have the baby, and once it was born, he said I’d better either give it away or throw it in the river. He said if anyone found out, he would kill me.”

  “He said he would kill you if anyone found out?”

  “Yes, he did. He told me to leave town or he would kill me.”

  “And, again, you believed him when he said that?”

  “Objection,” said Blythe. “That question was asked and answered earlier.”

  “Sustained.”

  “All right, Polly,” said Micah. “The other occasion you had to see Sonny Pratt since you moved out of your stepfather’s house, when was that?”

  “The afternoon Lester Jones’s body was discovered.”

  “What were the circumstances surrounding that encounter?”

  “We were all standing around the body, and I saw Sonny watching us from the alley. He looked right at me, and when he saw I had noticed him, he dragged his index finger across his throat in a cutting gesture.”

  “Did you consider this a threat to you, Miss Pratt?”

  “I did.”

  Blythe started to his feet, but he seemed to reconsider his objection—or the likelihood of having it sustained—and sat back down.

  Micah scanned his notes, turned to the judge, and said, “Nothing further, Your Honor.”

  “Redirect examination, Mr. Blythe?”

  “Yes, Your Honor. Miss Pratt, you say you were beaten by your stepbrother; is that correct?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “When did this beating take place relative to the abortion performed on you by Dr. Hedstrom?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe a week before. Dr. Hedstrom agreed to do the abortion on the day my mother and I returned to have him remove my stitches.”

  “Tell me, Miss Pratt, did this beating in any way affect your pregnancy?”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “By being beaten, as you say you were, did it affect your health in any way? I mean, other than the injuries to you from the beating itself, did that cause any complications in your pregnancy?”

  Polly, obviously understanding where Blythe was going, shook her head and said, “No, sir, to be honest, it did not.”

  “And Dr. Hedstrom never told you that the beating had affected your health in terms of your pregnancy, did he?”

  “No, Mr. Blythe, he did not.”

  “So, to your knowledge, the beating you allege was administered to you by Sonny Pratt did not affect your health and played no role in Dr. Hedstrom’s decision to perform the abortion on August 27, last; am I correct?”

  “I’m not sure I understand the question,” Polly said.

  “Let me simplify it a bit,” said Blythe. “Would you agree that Sonny Pratt’s actions played no role in Dr. Hedstrom’s decision to perform the abortion on August 27?”

  “I don’t know the answer to that,” said Polly, “but, no, he never said that the beating had affected the pregnancy in any way.”

  “Thank you, young lady,” said Blythe with a satisfied smile. “No more questions from the state, Your Honor.”

  “Any recross, Mr. McConners?” Walker asked.

  Micah had not intended to ask any more questions of Polly, but the tenor of Blythe’s last question had caused a thought to cross his mind. He reached for his statute book, which was on the corner of his table. “May I have a moment, Your Honor?”

  “You may.”

  Micah turned to the abortion statute, which was titled, “Attempted Miscarriage.” It was a statute he had read many times over the course of the last four months, but now he wanted to read it again, perhaps in a different light. He did, and with his own satisfied smile, he stood, and to Judge Walker he said, “I do have one question, Judge.”

  “One question, is that all?”

  “Yes, Your Honor.”

  “Should I hold him to that, Mr. Blythe?” asked the judge.

  Blythe laughed, “You’ll never get me to agree, Judge, that any lawyer should
ever be held to just one question.”

  “I didn’t think you would,” Walker said. “Proceed, Mr. Mc-Conners.”

  “Polly, did you ever tell Dr. Hedstrom that you had been threatened by Sonny Pratt?”

  “I didn’t,” Polly said, “but my mother did.”

  Micah turned to the judge. “I guess Mr. Blythe is right, Your Honor. A lawyer shouldn’t be held to only one question.”

  “I expected you to change your mind, young man,” said the judge. “Go ahead.”

  “How do you know your mother told him your life had been threatened by Sonny Pratt?”

  “Because I was there when she did it. I was begging her not to tell. I knew if she told, Sonny would kill me.”

  “Well, Judge,” said Micah, “only two questions; that wasn’t too bad.”

  “No,” agreed the judge, “it wasn’t. Anything further, Mr. Blythe?”

  “No, Your Honor. We have no further questions of Miss Pratt.”

  Walker turned to Polly. “You may step down. Call your next witness, Mr. Blythe.”

  Blythe did a quick conference with Earl Anderson, stood, and said, “Your Honor, we have no further witnesses, and the State of Wyoming would rest its case at this time.”

  “Very well, sir. Mr. McConners, are you prepared to proceed with the defendant’s case-in-chief?”

  “Your Honor,” Micah said, “before we proceed, I would like the opportunity to make a motion outside the hearing of the jury.”

  Walker scratched his chin. “I assume it’s the usual defense motion made at the close of the state’s case.” By usual defense motion, the judge was referring to the pro forma motion for acquittal as a matter of law on the grounds that the state had failed to prove all of the elements of the crime charged. Jackson had told Micah that Judge Walker, in order to save time, would often have counsel make the motion for the record; he would either take it under advisement or deny it outright and they would proceed with the defendant’s case. If defense counsel wanted to flesh out the record with some brief argument, Walker would allow them to renew the motion and argue in chambers later.

  “It is the usual motion, Judge,” Micah said, “but I would like to be heard at this time, if I may.” Micah knew the old judge had not been expecting this. Argument now would slow things down, and if there was anything Walker hated, it was some frivolous lawyer throwing off his schedule. But Micah also knew in a criminal case such as this one, it was awkward for the judge to deny his request if Micah wanted to push it.

  “All right, Sheriff, take the jury into the jury room.” As the jury filed out, Walker instructed them not to discuss the case among themselves nor with anyone else until they were told it was time to do so.

  Once they were gone, Walker turned to Micah and said, “All right, young fella, make it quick.”

  Micah stepped to the lectern, tried to gulp down the knot in his throat without much success, and said, “Judge Walker, I’d like to move the court to direct a verdict of acquittal in this case.”

  Earl Anderson snickered. Blythe shhh-ed him and sat forward in his chair.

  Walker slid his spectacles to the tip of his nose and looked at Micah over the top. “Of course you would, Mr. McConners. What specific element or elements do you feel the state has failed to prove?”

  “Well, Judge, I feel it’s more than the failure to prove all the elements. I feel, Your Honor, that through one of the state’s own witnesses, it’s been shown that in fact no crime has been committed at all.”

  This time Blythe also snickered.

  It appeared to Micah that Walker too was about to snicker, but for decorum’s sake suppressed it. “All right, Mr. McConners, explain your position.”

  “Judge, my position is really a simple one. Since the beginning of this case we have all recognized that there is only one defense to a charge of causing a miscarriage or performing an abortion. And, of course, that is if the woman’s pregnancy is causing such health concerns as to threaten her life.”

  “I believe that’s the law, Mr. McConners,” Walker said in a matter-of-fact tone. “That’s the way the statute reads, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “Yes, Your Honor, that is how I’ve read the statute as well.”

  “So what is your point, young man? Let’s get to it.”

  “My point, sir, is that is how I’ve read the statute—how we’ve all read the statute, but that is not what the statute says . . . not at all. We have always assumed that’s what it says, but we’ve been wrong. If you’ll allow me, I’ll read it to you verbatim.” He held up his statute book. “I have here, Judge, the Revised Statutes of the State of Wyoming, 1900 edition.”

  “I see that,” said the judge. “Start reading, Mr. McConners.”

  Micah’s index finger held his place. He set the heavy book on the lectern and opened it up. “The heading is, ‘Attempted Miscarriage.’ It says, ‘Whoever prescribes or administers to any pregnant woman, or any woman who he supposes to be pregnant, any drug, medicine, or substance whatever, with intent thereby to procure a miscarriage of such woman; or with like intent uses any instrument or means whatever, unless such miscarriage is necessary to preserve her life, shall, if the woman miscarries or dies in consequence thereof, be imprisoned in the penitentiary not more than fourteen years.’ ” Micah repeated with emphasis, “ ‘Unless such miscarriage is necessary to preserve her life.’ ” Closing the book, he said, “I don’t mean to play games or bandy words, sir.” He tapped on the book’s cover and repeated for the third time, “ ‘Unless such miscarriage is necessary to preserve her life.’ ” That is what the statute says, and that is all that it says, Judge Walker.”

  The theater was silent.

  “It is our position, Your Honor, that Dr. Hedstrom complied with the law and did what he did in order to preserve Polly Pratt’s life.

  “Your Honor, it is an undisputed fact. The evidence in the state’s case was that if Polly Pratt had been forced to carry this fetus to term, Sonny Pratt would have killed her. I admit this is a unique situation, but it is the situation before us. Mr. Blythe educed that testimony himself. Actually, Sonny would have killed her as soon as the pregnancy began to show. He’d already beaten her severely, threatened her with a knife after he and another man had raped her, and upon Lester Jones’s death, threatened her yet again. She was convinced he would kill her. So was her mother. And my client, the defendant, Dr. Hedstrom, was convinced of this as well. Because of the nature of law enforcement in this community, they were at a loss as to what to do.

  “The statute does not say one word, Judge, about it’s being legal to perform an abortion only if complications of the pregnancy cause a risk of death to the mother. It simply says, ‘Unless such miscarriage is necessary to preserve her life.’ No more, no less. It is we, Judge, the readers of the statute, who have always added that interpretation . . . complications of the pregnancy . . . and I say to you, sir, we cannot go outside the plain language of the statute and make our own inferences.”

  “My statute book is in my chambers, Mr. McConners. Let me see that thing.” He snapped his fingers and motioned for Micah to approach the bench. Micah did and handed him the book.

  “Your Honor,” said Blythe, “this motion comes as a complete surprise to the state. We would like to have the opportunity to brief this issue and argue it at a later time.”

  “Did you forget we have a jury waiting in the jury room, Mr. Blythe? You’re more than welcome to make any arguments you can think of right now. I would welcome you to do so.”

  Blythe straightened his coat and cleared his throat. He seemed to be searching for words and having difficulty locating them—a situation Micah had never seen the man in before. “Well, sir,” Blythe began, “I think it’s obvious that the statute is referring to the health of the mother in terms of complications of the pregnancy. I mean, it is so patently obvious that it goes without saying.”

  “Mr. Blythe, things that are not said in statutes are not the law. But I will think
about this over the noon hour.” Walker called a recess even though the time was only a quarter past eleven.

  At one o’clock that afternoon, the parties sat at their tables waiting for Judge Walker to enter. All eyes were locked on the stage-left wing. The instant Micah saw Brad Collins flick a piece of lint from the brim of his hat, a gesture Micah had finally figured out was a signal to Blythe and Anderson that the judge was about to enter, Micah was on his feet and shouted, “All rise!” in a ringing voice that brought everyone in the theater to their feet.

  Anderson glared across at him, and Micah returned his glare with a smile.

  “You may be seated,” said the judge. Walker took even longer than usual to pull his spectacles from his pocket and slip the wire earpieces around his ears. He looked at Micah and said, “Here are your statutes, Mr. McConners. I neglected to return this to you before the break.”

  Micah stepped to the bench, retrieved his book, and hurried back to his seat.

  “Mr. McConners raised an interesting and imaginative point in his motion this morning. Some might say a little too imaginative, perhaps; others might be quick to agree with his position. I have given it a great deal of consideration over the last—” He checked his watch. “—hour and forty-five minutes. And I find myself somewhere in the middle. I think a reasonable man could very easily read that statute and come away with no opinion other than the one Mr. Blythe proposes. As a matter of fact, I consider myself a reasonable man, and I have read that statute many, many times, and I have never concluded anything other than it was referring to the woman’s physical condition as a result of complications in her pregnancy.

  “Mr. McConners, though, with his youthful eye, has looked at what has always been obvious to this old lawyer and made at least an arguable point that this statute does not say what we who have spent our careers reading it have always thought it said.

  “As a quick aside, let me mention that I have never liked this statute. I have always thought it was too narrow. At a minimum, in my opinion, it should allow for the termination of a pregnancy in a case of rape or incest. There are, I am sure, those who would hold an opinion contrary to that and could make compelling arguments in that regard.

  “But that is not the question, and that is not what the defense is arguing. As much as I would like to see that language with respect to rape and incest in there, I cannot add it to the statute. Only the legislature can do that, and I would not presume to tell our legislators in their infinite wisdom what laws they should or should not enact.