Judy’s eyes flared, a calming blue. “Be nice,” she whispered.
Mary cleared her throat when she heard the click, then said, “John, this is Mary DiNunzio and Judy Carrier, calling about Allegra’s whereabouts. She’s our client, and she has a right to speak with us. Please give me a call immediately at this number. Thanks so much.”
“Nice job, because the law is not on our side.” Judy read from her screen while Mary hung up. “Under Section1.1(b), the parent of a minor under 18 may consent to inpatient treatment on the recommendation of a physician who has examined the minor. The minor’s consent is not necessary.”
“Really?” Mary asked, aghast. She was about to put her phone away when she noticed that she had missed two calls and a text from Anthony. She didn’t have time to listen to the messages, but scrolled automatically to the text, which read, can you come for drinks tonight with my colleagues? She groaned. “Oh, no.”
“What is it?”
“Anthony wants me to celebrate tonight with his friends.”
“Oh how horrible. What a pain. Who does he think he is, your future husband?”
“Very funny.” Mary felt a guilty twinge, but texted quickly, sorry, have to work. Will explain later. She hit Send. “Now what were you saying about the statute?”
“It’s evidently a change in the law. The parent can consent for the minor, which defines ‘consent’ out of existence as far as a minor is concerned, if you ask me. The parents have all the cards.”
Mary’s thoughts raced ahead. “So what rights does Allegra have? She has to have some.”
“Under Section 1.1(b)(7), at the time of admission, they have to explain the nature of her treatment and the right to object to treatment, by filing a petition with the court.” Judy’s tone took on her characteristic professorial bent. “If the minor wishes to object, the director of the hospital has to give her a form to provide notice for the request for withdrawal from treatment.”
“Who does she have to file it with?”
“The Court of Common Pleas.”
Mary thought a minute, because like many legal issues, it only raised more issues. Lawyers loved to argue about everything, even the argument itself. “But which Court of Common Pleas? I assume where the hospital is located, right?”
Judy nodded. “Probably, so we have to figure out where the hospital is.”
“When does she have to file it?”
“Forthwith.”
“Terrific.” Mary looked outside the cab, where traffic was bumper to bumper. “Somebody needs to tell that to rush hour. Forthwith isn’t happening.”
“It’s Wednesday, so I think we have to do it tomorrow or Friday, at least.” Judy’s eyes darted back and forth as she read her the screen. “This is interesting. It says that minors from fourteen to seventeen years old have the right to object to treatment, but Allegra’s thirteen.” She looked up, cocking her head. “The statute doesn’t seem to address what rights thirteen-year-olds have, if any.”
“We’ll find out when we file an objection to treatment.”
“Hold your horses, partner.” Judy returned to her reading. “Under Section 8, the court will appoint an attorney for the minor, assuming she doesn’t have one.” She looked up, her eyes narrowing in thought. “I remember most of these commitment issues involve people who are homeless or wards of the state. Allegra is an unusual case, because she’s neither of those things, and it cuts against her.”
“How?” Mary’s phone chimed to signal a text coming in, and she scrolled to check it. It was from Anthony, saying, can you do Friday night? They say they can all do Friday night.
“Your pesky fiancé again? Sext him back.”
“And record my cellulite forever?” Mary texted back, I don’t know for sure. Can I tell you tomorrow? She hit Send and slipped the phone back into her blazer pocket, so she could concentrate. Every time she tried to multitask, she messed up all the tasks, and she had learned she wasn’t good at multi.
“Anyway, it’s easy to see how this would work in Allegra’s case.”
“How would that work?” Mary was trying to get back on track.
“I mean, I can see how it wouldn’t be hard to have Allegra committed, given the resources of the family. The Gardners have the means to get her to a first-rate, really expensive therapist, who diagnoses her, and is very willing to please her wealthy and powerful parents.”
“Like an expert witness.”
“Exactly, but a reputable one. One who’s unbiased, not a whore.”
“Nice talk.” Mary couldn’t help but smile. Judy was always more free talking about sex, but Mary had been raised better and she knew sex was dirty.
“Allegra essentially gets railroaded, probably to one of the nicest mental hospitals around, but it’s greased just the same.”
“So what happens under the statute, is there a hearing? She should have some modicum of constitutional rights.”
“Yes, a hearing.”
“When?”
“Within seventy-two hours of filing the petition.”
“Lock and load, Gardners.” Mary felt her juices flowing, and she didn’t even know she had juices to flow. “At the hearing, what do we have to prove?”
“Let me see.” Judy’s attention returned to her screen. “For treatment to continue against the minor’s wishes, the court has to find that she has a diagnosed mental disorder, that it’s treatable in the facility, and that the facility is the least restrictive environment.”
Mary thought fast. “So the argument we should attack is the last, the least restrictive environment. I bet we can show that she could be treated on an outpatient basis, seeing a psychiatrist every day if she has to. There’s no reason for her to be in any kind of hospital, full-time.”
“Right, but we can’t do any of this without more facts.” Judy nodded, mulling it over. “We have to find her a shrink who will treat her, and do a lot more homework before going to court.”
“Whatever it takes, we’ll do it.”
Judy returned to reading and scrolling. “I see here she does have some rights, once admitted, at least an adult admitted under Act 302 would.”
“Like what?”
“The right to three completed phone calls, and she can give to the facility the names of three people who should be kept informed of her progress.” Judy frowned as she read. “And if she were an adult, under the Patient’s Bill of Rights, she’d have the right to see a lawyer in private at any time and also the right to be assisted by any advocate of her choice in the assertion of her rights.”
“Thank God. So we’re going in.”
“That’s only if the Patient’s Bill of Rights applies to a thirteen-year-old.”
“It should, she’s a patient, isn’t she?”
“Hmm.” Judy consulted her iPhone again, tapping away. “I wonder which hospital she is in. You know they must have her in a supernice place, but there can’t be that many of those on the East Coast, can there?”
“It may not be on the East Coast. If I know them, they stashed her as far away as they can.”
Judy frowned at the screen as she kept scrolling. “It looks like there’s a bunch of really nice places, and now that I think of it, it’s not like we can just go knocking on doors. The patients at any particular hospital will be confidential, so we have no way of knowing where she was taken unless we find out from the Gardners, or we subpoena them.”
“Now you’re talking.” Mary met Judy’s gaze directly, but saw an undercurrent of ambivalence. “What?”
“I’m concerned that we’re venturing into an area of the law we don’t know, and also, it’s not what she hired us for.”
“We have an emergency, don’t you think? She got committed because she hired us. They think she has this ridiculous justice obsession syndrome.”
“I hear you, but slow down.” Judy lowered the iPhone and eased back into the seat. “It’s a huge question whether Act 147 applies to thirteen-year-olds, much less the P
atient’s Bill of Rights designed for adults. Obviously, Allegra loses rights the younger she is. I’d have to study the case law.”
“If you study the case law, we don’t have time to act. If the statute’s new, maybe the cases haven’t been decided yet.” Mary didn’t get it. “Let’s just make the argument and let them come back. Rock and roll, run and gun, and several other lawyery clichés, like Bennie.”
“Who are you?” Judy grinned crookedly.
“A new me!” Mary glanced outside the window at the traffic, which hadn’t moved an inch. The cab wasn’t cutting it, and she wanted to get on the road. “Did you ever take a subway in Philly?”
“No.”
“Then let’s do it. Forthwith.”
Chapter Twenty-one
It wasn’t until late afternoon that Mary and Judy reached Houyhnhnm Farm, where they sat at the iron gate, waiting for the buzzer to be answered. They had pressed it three times, with no reply, which only set Mary’s teeth more on edge. “I didn’t drive all the way out here to not even be seen.”
“Agree.”
“Come on, somebody has to be home. This is a huge property with a home office building. They’re ditching us and hoping we’ll give up.”
“Good luck with that. We never give up. We’re lawyers.”
“Right. We make pests of ourselves for a living.”
Judy smiled. “And now we know there’s a maid. Remember, Tim Gage told us she still works for them? Janet Wolsey.”
“Right again. You wanna snoop around? You love that.”
“Totally.” Judy smiled, and they both got out of the car and walked up to the gate. Lush green ivy covered the wrought iron, and they gripped the bars, on the outside looking in, like felons with J.D. degrees.
“Hello, anybody home?” Mary called out, but nobody answered. All she could see were the grassy pastures in the distance and the tree-lined gravel road, which she knew led to the right. A hazy sun shone on the quiet, lovely property, and the only sound was the buzzing of an errant fly.
“Do you see what I see?” Judy gestured at the stone stanchions flanking the gate, next to tall evergreens and smaller yellow-green bushes that clustered together, overgrown in a cultivated manner. “They planted this stuff for privacy, not security. It’s a man-made forest, there’s no bars or fence.”
“So?”
“We could leave the car and walk right through. How do you feel about hiking?” Judy grinned slyly, and Mary didn’t hesitate, for the first time in her life.
“I’d give it a try.”
“Why not? What’s the worst they can do? Throw us out?”
“Shoot us.”
“Then they’ll have to answer to your mother.”
Mary smiled. “They have a gun, but she has a wooden spoon.”
“So they’re dead.”
“Exactly.”
“Follow me, hiking virgin.” Judy left the driveway for the evergreens, moved a few branches aside, and wedged her way into the trees. “I love to hike. We used to do it all the time, in the Sierra Madres and the Grand Tetons.”
“Good for you.” Mary pressed a branch away from her face, trying not to get scratched. Unlike her, Judy had grown up in Northern California, where she climbed mountains, on purpose. “Think there’s snakes here?”
“No, silly,” Judy called back. “Only bears.”
“Very funny.” Mary made her way through the trees and over the underbrush. Twigs snapped under her pumps, and the air smelled like Pine-Sol. She could lose her way without graffiti to guide her. “Remember those pictures you used to have in your office, of your whole family covered with cables? The first time I saw them, I thought you worked for Comcast.”
“Ha!” Judy plunged ahead, her lemony blonde hair a bright spot among the dense green needles. “The Carriers are trailblazers from way back.”
“The DiNunzios are followers from way back.”
“Now we’re having fun!” Judy called out, from somewhere inside the forest.
“Yay?” Mary called back, trying to sound positive.
“Here we go!” Judy vanished into a sunny clearing, and Mary popped out of the woods behind her, brushing leaves from her suit.
“Look at me, I’m The Nature Channel.”
“You did well.” Judy turned toward the house and the aviary, up ahead. “Let’s get going. How far do you think we’ll make it down this road before they come out?”
“It won’t be long.” Mary fell into step beside her, glancing behind when she thought she heard something, but there were no bears about.
“Wonder who will meet us and start yelling.”
“Patel.” Mary kept walking, feeling like a gunslinger heading into town for a lawyer showdown.
“Disagree. I say Gardner.” Judy held her head high, and if she was concerned, it didn’t show. “Gardner doesn’t strike me as the kind of man who hides behind his lawyer.”
“Bet me.”
“Okay, let’s bet your engagement ring. Then you’ll have an excuse when you lose it.”
“Ouch, that’s harsh.” Mary looked left and spotted Allegra’s beehives in the distance, abandoned. “How sad. She didn’t even get to paint them.”
“That is sad, “Judy said, her tone softening. “I like her, I do. I think she’s sweet.”
“Bastards.”
“That’s the spirit. Get your hate on, would you?”
“On it. Look.” Judy gestured at the house, and Mary’s anger flickered when she saw a commotion at the portico. Men were gathering, but it was too far away to make out their faces, but it looked like Gardner and Patel were among them.
“It’s the girls vs. the boys. Maybe we both win.”
“Gimme the ring anyway. I’ll wear it through my nose.”
“Remember your last piercing? Enough said.” Mary tried to get calm when a gleaming white Escalade approached the house, stopped at the portico, then Gardner and Patel climbed inside the backseat, closing the doors. “Here they come. Ready?”
“If they don’t run us over.”
“Let’s stop and stand our ground.” Mary halted and watched the car come, driving faster then she would’ve liked. Chickens fluttered panicky in the aviary when the big Escalade barreled past. “I’ll take the lead.”
“Okay, but keep your temper. All we need is to find out where she is. If we get that, mission accomplished.” Judy straightened to her full height, almost five ten, which always made Mary feel like she was standing with a sequoia. She braced herself as the Escalade braked ten feet from them, spraying gravel and chalky white dust. The big engine idled, and the driver made a brawny shadow behind the smoked window glass. The back two doors opened, and John Gardner got out of the closer one, with Patel emerging on the far side.
“Hello, John.” Mary suppressed her anger and took a few steps in their direction. “Perhaps you didn’t get my phone message, but we’re looking for Allegra.”
“Allegra is not available at this time.” Gardner’s tone was cold and firm. Patel came up from behind him, saying nothing. “You’re trespassing on this property. I’ll ask you to leave immediately.”
“John, Allegra has the right to consult with a lawyer under Pennsylvania law. Please tell us where she is, so that she can exercise that right.”
“It’s none of your business where my daughter is.”
“It’s exactly my business where your daughter is. Judy and I intend to meet with her, file an objection to treatment with the Court of Common Pleas, and get her out of there.”
“Really.” John scoffed. “If you don’t know where she is, how do you know it’s not the best place for her?”
“Because she doesn’t need to be in a residential facility.” Mary didn’t bat an eye. “She’s hardly a danger to herself or anyone else.”
“How can you be so sure? Do you know my daughter better than I do? She was mentally incompetent when she hired you, and any contract she had with you, whether oral or written, is null and void.”
>
“We’d be here whether we had a contract or not. More importantly, we care about your daughter and we want to help her get what she wants.”
“Why don’t we test that proposition?” John glowered at Mary, flinty in the waning sunlight. “For your information, payment on the check she wrote for your retainer has already been stopped. I’m taking steps to remove the trustee of her trust, and no other trustee will make any further distributions because of her incompetency. So if you’re not getting paid, I assume this is good-bye.”
“You assume wrong.” Mary couldn’t keep the bitterness from her voice. “So I guess we passed your test. Or maybe flunked it, I don’t know which.”
“You intend to represent her without being compensated?”
“Yes, absolutely.” Mary’s mouth went dry, though she meant what she said. “We will prove to the court that inpatient treatment is not the least restrictive environment to treat whatever mental illness Allegra has, if indeed she has any at all, other than disagreeing with her controlling father.”
“Leave my property this minute.” John raised his voice, and behind him, Patel stirred on the gravel.
“Please tell us where she is, and we’ll be happy to leave.” Mary gestured at Patel. “Ask Neil. He’ll tell you that it won’t look good in court that you stonewalled us on basic information like this. On the contrary, it helps to prove our point.”
“So you’re refusing to leave my property when requested to do so?” John folded his arms in his pressed oxford shirt. “That’s trespassing, plain and simple, Counselor.”
“Please.” Mary made a last-ditch effort to reason with him. “We’re on the opposite sides of the fence, but the least you can do is play fair. If you think you’re right, fight us, but don’t hide the ball. Tell us where you sent your daughter.”
“I don’t need to do that, and I’m about to have you escorted off my property. If you resist, you’ll be arrested.” John tilted his chin upward, and as if on cue, the sounds of police sirens blared on the street beyond the trees. “We at The Gardner Group find the occasional intruder or disgruntled employee on the grounds, and the West Whiteland Township police are kind enough to come by, to prevent trouble.”
Accused: A Rosato & Associates Novel Page 15
