James Grippando - Blood Money

“And is this something that Celeste was treated for?”

“Yes. From time to time.”

“What kind of treatment have doctors prescribed for her in the past?”

“There are medications you can take to control the irregularity.”

“Did you give her those medications?”

“Yes. As prescribed.”

“How did she respond to those medications?”

“She was fine. No problems.”

“The medications controlled the irregular heartbeat?”

“Yes, very well.”

She held a wadded tissue in her hand, which she was squeezing into oblivion. Jack debated whether to stop right there, but he had just a couple more questions.

“Now, did Celeste’s doctors ever tell you what could happen if she did not receive medication?”

She swallowed hard, then spoke. “It could be a lot of things. She could feel dizzy. She could faint. Or, you know, worse.”

“She could go into cardiac arrest, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Did any doctor ever mention the possibility of a coma?”

Her hands began to shake, and Jack regretted having put too fine a point on his question.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she said. “It’s a whole litany of things. At the time I thought they were just trying to scare me into making sure that I was vigilant about giving her the medicine. I never thought. . I never thought it would actually happen.”

She was at the point of breaking down. Jack had gone far enough. “No further questions, Your Honor.”

The witness rose quickly, eager to leave.

“Mr. Gaines?” said the judge. “Cross-examination?”

Mrs. Laramore stopped, and the dread on her face as she settled back into the hot seat was apparent even from where Jack was seated.

Great television, I’m sure.

“I have a few questions,” said Gaines as he approached the witness. He buttoned his coat, squared his shoulders, and stood tall. Mrs. Laramore seemed to shrink bit by bit with each tick of the clock.

“Good morning, Mrs. Laramore. Let me start by saying how sorry I am about what happened to your daughter. But I’m sure Mr. Swyteck has explained to you that it is our position that BNN did nothing to cause these tragic circumstances.”

She didn’t answer.

“Mrs. Laramore, can you tell me what long QT syndrome is?”

“It’s a heartbeat irregularity.”

“Oh, come now, you can do better than that, can’t you?”

Jack rose. “Objection. Your Honor, we’ve had medical testimony.”

Gaines said, “Mr. Swyteck asked for her understanding, Your Honor. It’s my right to explore the extent of her understanding.”

“Overruled. But let’s keep this focused.”

“Yes, Judge. Mrs. Laramore, do the best you possibly can. What is long QT syndrome?”

She took a breath, let it out, then began. “An electrocardiogram measures electrical impulses as five distinct waves. Doctors label the waves using the letters P, Q, R, S, and T. The waves labeled Q through T show electrical activity in your heart’s lower chambers. The space between the start of the Q wave and the end of the T wave-the Q-T interval-is the amount of time it takes for your heart to contract and then refill with blood before beginning the next contraction.”

Gaines nodded. “That’s pretty impressive.”

“She’s my daughter.”

“But that was probably better than most doctors could describe it.”

“She’s had it all her life. I’ve learned a lot about it.”

“You take a great deal of interest in your daughter’s medical condition, don’t you?”

“What mother doesn’t?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you take an abnormally high level of interest in your daughter’s health?”

“No.”

“Really?”

“Objection.”

“Sustained. ‘Really’ is not a question in my courtroom, Mr. Gaines.”

“Sorry, Judge. Now, Mrs. Laramore, your daughter was taken to Jackson Memorial Hospital early Sunday morning, nine days ago. When did you get there?”

“Later that same day.”

“And how much time have you spent at the hospital since then?”

“Today is the first time I’ve set foot outside the hospital.”

“Is that so? You sleep at the hospital?”

“Yes. There’s a guest lounge right outside the ICU. I sleep on the couch.”

“And when you’re not sleeping?”

“I’m at my daughter’s side.”

“When you say you’ve never set foot outside the hospital, do you mean that literally?”

“Yes.”

“So you’ve never so much as walked out the door for some fresh air, taken a walk?”

“No. If my daughter opens her eyes or even twitches a finger, I want to be there.”

“So it’s not enough if your husband sees it. You have to see it.”

“I’m not sure I understand.”

Jack rose. “Judge, I don’t understand the relevance of this, either. I object.”

The judge leaned back, thinking. “I assume Mr. Gaines has a point.”

“I do,” said Gaines.

“Then make it. We’re getting dangerously close to lunchtime.”

“Yes, Your Honor. Mrs. Laramore, let’s go back in time a bit. When Celeste was a child, is it fair to say you were equally attentive, always at her side when she was sick?”

“I tried to be.”

“Celeste was a sick child, wasn’t she?”

“That depends on what you mean by ‘sick child.’”

Gaines walked back to the podium and picked up a file folder. “Twenty-two visits to five different emergency rooms before the age of two. I would consider that ‘sick.’ How about you?”

This kind of information would never have taken Jack by surprise if the case had proceeded to trial in the normal course. As it was, Jack was hearing it for the first time.

“May I see that, counsel?” asked the judge.

Gaines nodded. He handed a copy up to the judge and seemed more than happy to share as he gave another copy to Jack.

Gaines continued, “Judge, we obtained these medical records from the Florida Department of Children and Family Services. The name of the child has been redacted to comply with privacy laws. I would ask the witness to review them and confirm that these are, in fact, medical records for her daughter.”

The judge inspected the stack of records in his file, then looked up. “You may approach the witness, Mr. Gaines.”

Gaines took firm, deliberate steps toward the witness stand. Terror was the only word to describe the expression on Mrs. Laramore’s face as he handed her the medical file. “Take your time,” Gaines told her, “and remember you are under oath when you tell Judge Burrows whether these are your daughter’s medical records.”

Jack considered an objection, and upon seeing the papers shake violently in his client’s hand, his internal debate ended. “Judge, I object.”

“On what grounds?”

“This has nothing to do with the issue of whether BNN caused Celeste Laramore to go into a coma.”

“To the contrary,” said Gaines, “it has everything to do with it. If I could just have a few follow-up questions.”

“Objection is overruled,” said the judge. Then he leaned over the bench, looked the witness in the eye, and asked, “Mrs. Laramore, are these your daughter’s medical records?”

If she had any inclination to lie, the judge’s stare had scared her out of it. “Yes,” she said. “They are.”

“Thank you.”

It may have been Jack’s imagination, but Gaines seemed to reposition himself for a better camera angle. “Let’s walk through some of them, shall we?” said Gaines. “Start with the one right on top. How old was your daughter at that time?”

“Eight weeks.”

“She was suffering from what?”

“Severe dehydration and low blood pressure.”