Blind Rage (Blind Justice Book 3)

by Adam Zorzi

  “He's in solitary confinement for twenty-three hours each day. He's restrained when served a meal. I don't like to give a prognosis, but I would be surprised if he survives as long as six months.”

  Both Bella and Mark were silent as they digested the information.

  Bella allowed Mark to take the lead with the doctor. He'd need to know how Dr. Constantine proceeded and why.

  “Is he treatable?”

  “To some extent. His physical deterioration can't be reversed, but his symptoms from long-term use of bath salts can be treated.”

  “Sufficiently enough for him to give a deposition?” Mark asked.

  “In an appropriate facility with clinicians familiar with the addiction.”

  “Dr. Constantine, can you comply with the court order compelling Mr. Yarbrough to be treated and made available for a deposition?”

  “I don't make promises. I can comply with treating him. Some of his psychiatric symptoms may be lessened by treatment of his physical health. Certainly, treatment for his cardiac conditions would reduce agitation. Dialysis will improve kidney function but have little, if any, effect on his psychiatric state.”

  Mark watched as Bella turned on her disarming charm. “Forgive me, Dr. Constantine, but is Mr. Yarbrough conscious? Does he speak?” Too bad Constantine was missing the batting of her lashes.

  “He has lingering sedation from the transfer. My observation is that concentration is good for two- to three-minute intervals. He has significant memory loss. He was unable to tell me why he was in prison.”

  Mark followed up. “Dr. Constantine, we can draft a bare bones deposition that shouldn't take longer than ten minutes if you'll swear to basic facts such as date, time, and his medical condition. He'd have to be lucid enough to understand he's answering questions under oath. Do you think he could become healthy enough for a ten-minute question-and-answer session?”

  “Possibly. Everything depends upon how well Mr. Yarbrough responds to medical treatment. Make no mistake. Mr. Yarbrough is a very sick man. He could die tonight or regain mental capacity with successful treatment of his most severe physical symptoms.”

  Tonight. Time was running out.

  “Dr. Constantine, then plan to treat him under the court order,” Mark said. “If you have any indication that he is dying, call me and I'll get there for a dying declaration about the murder. If I don't make it, your staff is aware of how to record such a declaration, correct?”

  “Certainly.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Constantine. I look forward to your status reports.”

  The phone call ended.

  “Bella, we might not get what we need from him. He sounds like he's in bad shape.”

  Bella turned away to compose herself before speaking. “He's in the hands of the best doctor and hospital we could identify. We can't control life and death. We have enough to prove the state's culpability in the murder. Nothing. Nothing changes the fact that a man in his condition shouldn't have been placed in an unsupervised setting with a teenager in detox.”

  “Sucks,” Mark said.

  ***

  Although Bella had kept an eye on her when LouLou was being so obstinate about letting Daniel into her life, the two had only met once. Bella had accompanied her in the ambulance to the ER after the car accident that sent Gregg away and stayed until LouLou's uncle arrived. Bella had declined to see her when she was born. LouLou probably didn't remember their only meeting.

  In order to make this proceeding as easy as possible for LouLou, Bella reserved a conference room in a downtown hotel for the day. The hotel was close to where LouLou lived and offered a courtyard view. LouLou was scheduled to arrive thirty minutes prior to the deposition and the appearance of the court reporter who would record the proceedings. Bella wanted her to have time to adjust to her surroundings.

  She'd made the room comfortable for LouLou. There was light from a large window overlooking an expanse of green, two buckets filled with large chunks of ice, and a sofa should LouLou need to lie down. There was plenty of fresh fruit and healthy snacks. Bella had the telephone number for LouLou's psychiatrist. The hotel doctor was on standby. An aide would drive LouLou to the meeting. Stress was one of the factors that could precipitate a psychotic episode for the young woman with schizophrenia.

  Bella knew LouLou Fleming was not healthy. The death of her father two years ago followed six months later by the loss of her boyfriend Gregg had rocked LouLou's world. She had once been a vivacious, sought-after DJ and performer traveling around the world. Now she only left her loft for scheduled walks. An aide visited every day to ensure that her medication and injection schedules were followed. LouLou saw her psychiatrist once a week. A neighborhood couple delivered regular healthy meals.

  Mark had told LouLou his colleague would be taking the deposition. Bella didn't want to ambush LouLou, so she sent a text the day before to let LouLou know she was the colleague. She also reminded LouLou that she could be subpoenaed if she didn't give her deposition voluntarily.

  Bella wore her customary black silk Armani suit with black stilettos. Her long blonde hair draped loosely around her shoulders. She couldn't do more to make herself neutral. Bella was a natural beauty with enormous blue eyes. Bella didn't like LouLou's precarious mental state. She liked being in control and was wary of what might set LouLou off. The last thing Bella wanted was to precipitate some sort of episode for LouLou.

  Bella barely recognized the woman who entered the conference room. Not only was she underweight and listless, she'd cut her hair into a disheveled short style with heavy bangs that emphasized the darkness around her blue eyes. She wore an orange backless dress that highlighted a tattoo of a rising phoenix on her back that had been shot by a renowned fashion photographer for his final show in Paris two years ago. The dress might once have hugged her body, but now hung loosely on her frame and emphasized her collarbones.

  Bella deliberately didn't rise when LouLou walked in the room so as not to frighten her. Even so, LouLou looked like she was going to bolt. Her eyes searched the room as if identifying the exits, she didn't close the door behind her, and she remained standing.

  “Hello, LouLou. Please sit. I'll get you some water with ice.”

  Reflexively, LouLou sat.

  Bella poured water, sat the crystal glass on the table in front of LouLou, and returned to her seat across the table. She took a good look at the woman who was her daughter. Although LouLou had large blue eyes, they were disproportionate to her face. Her gaunt face made her eyes look abnormal and her face disfigured. Her hair could have used some highlights. She might be pretty if she didn't look so desperately ill. When LouLou lifted her glass, Bella noticed beautifully drawn tattoos on her hands and arms.

  “LouLou, you have beautiful hands. I can see why you'd want to have them inked. I especially like the feather and the barn owl.”

  LouLou put the glass down and hid her hands in her lap under the conference table. “What about the barn owl?”

  She hadn't meant to stumble into weird territory, but she had. Bella kept her voice level and calm. “I know they're striking birds and monogamous, which is rare for any species.”

  LouLou glared at her. “How do you know that?”

  “I grew up in Virginia, LouLou. I know about local flora and fauna. I meant nothing more than to compliment your art and choice of subject.”

  LouLou stared back, but remained silent for a good five minutes. Bella could almost see the possibilities running through LouLou's head.

  “Why are you doing this?” LouLou finally asked. She seemed bewildered more than angry.

  “I'm Mr. Hoffman's colleague on this matter. I know your psychiatric history and understand your unease.”

  “I mean, why are you on this case?” LouLou shifted in her chair as though she were trying to find a comfortable position.

  “I want that hellhole in Petersburg shut down forever. It ruins lives. It causes irreparable damage. No one is served by being a patient th
ere.” Bella struggled to maintain a calm tone. She was outraged that such a barbaric institution could exist in the twenty-first century. Every basic civil right was violated there and no one in the state cared.

  “But you're a ghost. How can you go to court?” Again, the look of perplexity.

  Bella smiled. “I won't. I'm writing the motions and briefs and strategizing with Mr. Hoffman. He's smart enough, but he doesn't think outside the box. He might win a modest sum for the family of Evan Cooper, but he won't get the place condemned.”

  “Why do you care about Petersburg?” LouLou barely spoke above a whisper.

  Bella looked at her kindly. “I'm surprised you have to ask. Daniel went there for what was supposed to be three months and ended up staying far too long. He was frightened into catatonia. He went back when he became overzealous in wanting to see you. He was there at the time of the murder of Evan Cooper. Daniel could have been Larry Yarbrough's victim. And you, my daughter, have been there three times. The last stay was so bad you were transferred to a private mental health facility at the state's expense.”

  “Don't call me your daughter,” LouLou said quietly.

  “What should I call you? You're the child I let the Flemings adopt when I was a young student at the Sorbonne. Daniel is your father. Just between us, darling. Entre nous. Otherwise, I'll call you LouLou or Ms. Fleming.”

  “I'm a year older than you,” LouLou said tersely. “We look the same age. In two years, five years, ten years I'll look older than you. How can you expect to be believed as my mother?”

  “I won't be here in two years. Once I get what I want, I'll leave.”

  Finally, Bella had LouLou's attention.

  “You can do that? Go away voluntarily?”

  “Of course. Ghost exists because our human lives were cut short. We exist to get what we want and move on.”

  “You plan to get what you want in two years?”

  “Absolutely. I always get what I want. There were a few bumps along the way in this situation, but victory is in sight.”

  “And then you move on?” LouLou's voice was a mixture of excitement, hope, and relief.

  Bella didn't feel slighted by LouLou's obvious eagerness for Bella to move out of her life. There was no fond emotion between mother and daughter. LouLou had a family and it didn't include her. Or Daniel. Bella recognized a deeply buried curiosity in LouLou, but it would have to wait. She wanted to get through the deposition before LouLou tired or lost focus.

  “Darling, I'm happy to discuss ghost behavior with you some other time.”

  LouLou stared at Bella. She must have seen the woman who was her mother clearly for the first time. “You really are gorgeous,” LouLou said.

  Bella smiled. She was accustomed to people praising her looks. “LouLou, you're lovely.”

  LouLou made a noise of disgust. “Thankfully, I was spared a lifetime of growing up lovely compared to my exceptionally beautiful mother. I'm glad I was adopted.”

  “I am too, LouLou. I believe the Flemings were wonderful parents.”

  LouLou didn't respond. Bella took that as a cue to focus on the reason for their meeting.

  “Let me tell you about your deposition. I'll ask questions and you must respond truthfully. Please be brief. If I want clarification, I'll ask follow-up questions.

  “The purpose of your deposition is to give a patient's view of the quality of health care in general, psychiatric care, and administration. C'est tout. You're not considered an expert witness so your opinion is the only thing we want.

  “Did you take your meds this morning? Eat?”

  LouLou nodded.

  “If, at any time, you don't feel well enough to continue the deposition just tell me. We'll take a break.”

  LouLou nodded again. “How long will this take? I like to nap in the afternoons.”

  “You'll be home in time for your nap.”

  “That's not what I asked. How long?”

  Bella was pleased she'd gotten a rise out of her. She'd begun to think LouLou was too placid to understand and respond to questions. “An hour at most. Ready?”

  LouLou nodded.

  “Then I'll call the court reporter in and we'll get started.”

  CHAPTER

  TWENTY-FOUR

  After the preliminary questions of name, location, and birth date, Bella got right to the point. “Ms. Fleming, are you on any medication?”

  “Yes.”

  “What are the names and dosages of each medication.”

  LouLou dutifully responded. She clearly had them memorized.

  “Did you drink alcohol this morning?”

  “No.”

  “Did you take a sedative?”

  “Yes. Four milligrams of alprazolam.”

  “Does that interfere with your ability to understand and answer questions truthfully?”

  “No.”

  “Are you under the influence of any other substance—supplements, recreational drugs, prescription medications not written for you?”

  “No, no, and no.”

  Bella hid a smile. “What is your psychiatric diagnosis?”

  LouLou responded as if by rote. “I have schizophrenia with psychotic episodes, generalized anxiety disorder, and paranoia.”

  Bella walked LouLou through the crimes committed for which she was sentenced, dates of her hospitalizations at Commonwealth Psychiatric, and the age she was at each admission.

  “You were there to regain competency to stand trial. Were you housed exclusively with others waiting for competency hearings?”

  “No.”

  “Were you housed with inmates who had committed crimes but were found Not Guilty by Reason of Insanity?”

  “NGRI?” LouLou took a moment to recognize the full name for what she knew only as an acronym. “Yes.”

  “Was there any way to tell the difference between those of you awaiting competency determination and those who were serving a sentence?”

  “I don't understand the question.” LouLou looked confused. She started to chip at some neon orange nail polish on her unkempt hands. Otherwise, she sat perfectly still and ramrod straight.

  “Did you wear a different color uniform or badge or wristband that would distinguish you from those serving sentences?”

  “No. We all wore the same thing.”

  “During your most recent hospitalization, had there been any change made to distinguish the two types of patients? Between the time you were nineteen, twenty-six, and thirty.”

  “No.”

  Bella led her through questions about safety, assault, and weapons.

  “Who distributed your medications?”

  “Whatever clerk was on duty. All of us lined up at different times and got our meds.”

  “Did you always get the same medication?” Bella kept her voice soft and even. LouLou looked pained.

  “No.”

  “Because your doctor had made changes in your medication?”

  “No. The clerk handed us whatever he thought we were supposed to get or were pre-packaged by the shift before. I knew what my meds looked like. Sometimes, I got the wrong meds for three or four days in a row.”

  “Did you complain?”

  “Not after the first time.”

  “Why not?”

  “The clerk threatened to withhold all my meds if I didn't take what he gave me that day. I realized other patients never questioned the clerks.”

  “Did the clerks who dispensed your anti-psychotic medication wear any designation that he had medical or pharmaceutical training? Such as a name tag that read RN, MD, or RNP? A lab coat that read Pharmacist or Pharmacist Assistant?”

  LouLou laughed. She almost went into a fit of giggles. She took a long drink of water and composed herself.

  “Please answer in words so the reporter can record your answer.”

  “Absolutely not. Anyone from the staff could be assigned pharmacy duty.” Bella moved as fluidly as she could. She didn't want LouLou to get bo
gged down or obsessed with one topic.

  “Was your treatment affected by receiving the wrong medication?”

  “Sometimes.” LouLou didn't elaborate.

  “Please explain that.”

  “Some of us knew what color pills we got. Capsule versus tablet. Shape. We'd trade to get the right ones. One guy always had a bunch of pills so if we couldn't trade, we'd get them from him.”

  “Was this man a member of the staff?”

  “No. He was a patient.”

  “Did you pay this man to get the correct medication?”

  “No.”

  “Did he ever tell you why he would hoard pills and dispense them without asking anything in return?”

  “Kind of.” LouLou's hands had started to shake. She seemed nervous that she might say the wrong thing.

  “Please continue. Take your time.”

  “He'd been there a long time. He knew how screwed up things were. He was a nice guy who wanted to help make the place less awful.” LouLou seemed to have run out of breath.

  Bella waited one full minute before suggesting a break. Bella sat back. The court reporter left the room.

  ***

  Bella didn't linger after the break. She could tell that LouLou was tiring.

  “One last question, Ms. Fleming. Do you recall a specific incident or incidents where someone might have died for lack of medical care?”

  “Yes,” she responded without hesitation. “During my most recent time there.”

  “Could you briefly describe what happened?”

  “Some of us were sitting in the day room. I was waiting to see my doctor. A patient suddenly grabbed his chest and passed out. Big pushed the panic button and then picked up High Life—that's what I called the man who'd had a heart attack—and took him to his room. He shouted for me to follow. Big broke the glass where the oxygen canister was stored and gave it to me to get ready for the patient. Big told me to keep High Life warm so I put a blanket over him.