James Bell - Deadlock

a. Information that medical assistance benefits may be available to the woman for prenatal care, childbirth, and neonatal care.

b. Information that the putative father is liable to assist in the support of the child.

c. Information that medical assistance benefits may be available to the woman for an abortion under certain circumstances.

d. The particular medical risks associated with the particular abortion procedure to be employed including, if medically accurate, the risks of infection, hemorrhage, breast cancer, danger to subsequent pregnancies, and infertility.

e. The probable gestational age of the unborn child at the time the abortion is to be performed.

f. The medical risks associated with carrying her child to term.

“I would like to call your attention to subsection d,” Charlene said. “Would you please explain to the jury your understanding of the term medical risks?”

“Yes. Any risk to the well-being of the patient, including the obvious things that are listed there, such as breast cancer, which some studies show has a connection with abortion procedures. But it would also include information on Post-Abortion Syndrome.”

Charlene expected Winsor to object. When he did not, a thin flame of nervousness shot through her. She pressed on. “What is Post-Abortion Syndrome, Doctor?”

“It is a variant of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.”

“And how long has Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder been recognized in the psychiatric field?”

“Since 1981.”

“Is PTSD or PAS a form of depression?”

“Absolutely.”

“Are there physical manifestations?”

“Oh, yes. The body can literally shut down.”

“Mental signs?”

“Yes.”

“Would suicidal tendencies be one of those?”

“That would certainly be a strong indicator of PAS, yes.”

“What should a doctor do to help prevent the risks associated with Post-Abortion Syndrome?”

“At the very least he should screen all patients for any prior history of depression.”

“If he does not, then there would be strong medical risk, isn’t that right?”

“That is correct.”

“Thank you, Doctor. No further questions.”

Beau Winsor stepped to the podium but not behind it. He held no notes. Charlene could only marvel at that. No doubt the jury would marvel, too.

“Dr. Hutchinson,” Winsor said. “Would you take a good look at subsection d again for us?”

The witness, somewhat sheepishly, reread the exhibit. “All right,” he said.

“Now where do you see the term Post-Abortion Syndrome?”

“Of course it is not there, but – ”

“You have answered the question, sir.”

Charlene stood. “Objection, Your Honor. Counsel did not let the witness finish his answer.”

Judge Lewis said, “Overruled. It was a simple yes or no question. You’ll have your chance on redirect.”

Stung, Charlene sat back down. Sarah Mae seemed upset. Charlene patted her arm.

Winsor said, “Also in subsection d, Doctor, where do you see the word psychiatric?”

Hutchinson stared at the lawyer. “It is not there.”

“And Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder?”

“Not there.”

“And who drafted this informed consent statute, Dr. Hutchinson?”

“I presume the legislature.”

“And they didn’t include any of those terms, did they?”

“No, sir.”

Winsor paused to look at the jurors. They seemed transfixed by him. Charlene fought to keep her heart steady.

“Doctor, this supposed syndrome after abortion, is it recognized in any of the standard texts as such?”

“Well, there have been some articles in – ”

“Doctor, please. My question is about the standard reference texts in the field. Will we find this syndrome listed in any one of these?”

“I do not believe so.”

“Fine. Just so we’re clear on that. One last thing, Dr. Hutchinson. Are you being paid for your testimony here today?”

With a slightly victorious smile, Dr. Hutchinson said, “No, sir.”

“Isn’t that a bit unusual, Doctor? Don’t expert witnesses get compensated for their time so they can come to court?”

“I think that’s the usual practice, yes.”

“And you chose not to be paid, correct?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Is it because you are an anti-abortion activist?”

“Objection,” Charlene heard herself say, and immediately knew it was a mistake. It would seem she was hiding the truth about her witness from the jury. Once again, Winsor had played her like a violin.

“Overruled,” said Lewis.

“Do you need the question repeated?” Winsor said.

“No, sir,” said Hutchinson. “I have been associated, proudly, with the pro-life cause.”

“In fact, you were listed on the letterhead of the American Rescue Foundation, were you not?”

Hutchinson looked like he’d been hit with a bucket of cold water. Charlene could almost feel the jurors changing their opinion of him on the spot.

“I was for a time, yes,” Hutchinson said.

“Was that the same time that family planning center in Minnesota was bombed?”

“Objection,” Charlene said.

“Sustained,” Lewis said.

Winsor looked unconcerned. Of course it didn’t matter what the answer was, or that the judge had sustained the objection. The question had been asked, and it was in the minds of the jurors. Charlene considered asking the judge to admonish the jurors not to take any of that into consideration, but knew that would only play into Winsor’s hands again. Telling a jury to disregard something was almost a guarantee they’d consider it.

Suddenly, Winsor’s tone turned cold and sharp. “So you would have us all believe that your unpaid testimony here is not biased in any way, is that right, Doctor?”

“Objection.” Charlene had no other choice. The question was clearly argumentative.

“Sustained,” said the judge.

She’d won the point, but the big picture was cloudy. When Winsor said, “No further questions,” it seemed to Charlene that the jury was suddenly in his corner.

The Santa Lucia Community Church had a homey feel to it, built as much by memories as materials. The people knew her as Ethel Hollander’s little girl, the one who became one of the most powerful women in the country. She saw a few old faces who knew her way back when. The newer people sort of stared at her, like she was a rare fish in an aquarium.

Why had she consented to come? To keep her mother from harping about it, sure. Maybe this one time would be enough to appease Ethel’s crusade for her daughter’s soul.

But she also had more than a little curiosity about the pastor. What he might say. How he presented himself in the pulpit. Maybe she wanted, in her own mind, to check this man’s intellectual bona fides. He had said he disagreed with her judicial opinions. Was there any real firepower in his thoughts?

Ethel, as if sensing her daughter’s discomfort, settled with her in the back row. That was fine with Millie. Easy exit.

A few people came by to say hello to Ethel and perhaps gawk at Millie. She smiled politely and tried to seem human. She felt anything but.

A short, intense-looking man in a suit that didn’t quite fit slipped into the chair in front of them.

“Morning,” he said.

Ethel said, “Good morning to you, too. Happy to have you visit.”

“Thank you,” the man said. Millie had the feeling she’d seen him before. But where? Something told her he wasn’t a local.

“And hello to you, Madame Justice,” the man said, reaching his hand to Millie. “My name is Dan Ricks.”

Millie shook his hand. It was sweaty.