Robin Cook - Crisis

"There was no reason to suspect that an autopsy would have any probative value. I'm certain Mr. Fasano would agree. The clinical facts in this case have never been in dispute."

"Mr. Fasano, did you know about this autopsy?"

"Only to the extent it was being considered."

"Damn!" Judge Davidson intoned. "This puts me between a rock and a hard place."

"Your Honor," Tony said, unable to keep still. "If he's allowed to testify, I will -"

"I don't want to hear your threats, counselor. I'm perfectly aware Dr. Stapleton cannot waltz in here and take the stand. That's not on the table. I suppose I could order a continuance, and Dr. Stapleton and his findings could be subjected to normal discovery, but the trouble with that is that it shoots my calendar to hell. I hate to do that, but I also hate to have my cases reversed on appeal, and if this testimony is as dramatic as Dr. Stapleton seems to feel, it makes such a reversal a real possibility."

"What about you hearing the evidence Dr. Stapleton has?" Randolph suggested. "That would make your decision-making considerably easier."

Judge Davidson nodded as he contemplated the idea.

"To save time, you could do it in your chambers," Randolph said.

"Taking a witness into my chambers is in itself irregular."

"But not unheard of," Randolph offered.

"But the witness could go to the papers and claim whatever. I don't like that idea."

"Take in the court reporter," Randolph said. "Let it be part of the record. The point is that the jury will not hear it. If you decide it's not relevant and material, I can just restart my summation. If you decide it is relevant and material, you'll have more information to help you make a decision about how to proceed."

Judge Davidson mulled over the idea. He nodded his head. I like it. I'll call a short recess, but I'll keep the jury where they are. We'll make this fast. Are you all right with this plan, Mr. Fasano?"

"I think it sucks," Tony growled.

"Do you have an alternative suggestion?" Judge Davidson asked.

Tony shook his head. He was furious. He was counting on winning his first malpractice case, and now, within hours of the goal, a major screwup was brewing, despite everything he'd done. He walked back to the plaintiffs table and poured himself a glass of water. His mouth was dry and his throat was parched.

Randolph went back to Jack and opened the gate for him to step into the bar area. "You can't take the stand," Randolph whispered. "But it is arranged for you essentially to testify for the judge, which will determine if you get to testify in front of the jury at a later date. It will take place in the judge's chambers. He's willing to give you only a few minutes, so you'd best be concise and to the point. Understood?"

Jack nodded. He was tempted to tell Randolph he had only a few minutes to offer, but he refrained. He looked at Jordan, who was nervously trying to get Tony to explain what was happening, since the judge had announced there was to be a short recess although he wanted the jury to stay put. Among the spectators, there was a general buzz as people tried to figure out what was happening and who Jack was. Jack looked over at Craig, and Craig smiled. Jack nodded in return.

"All rise!" the court officer called out as the judge got to his feet and swiftly descended from the bench. In a blink of the eye, he was through the paneled door and out of sight, although he left the door invitingly ajar behind him. The court reporter followed a few steps behind.

"Are you ready?" Randolph asked Jack.

Jack nodded again, and as he did so, he happened to lock eyes with Tony. If looks could kill, I'd be dead, Jack thought. The man was plainly incensed.

Jack followed Randolph, and Tony joined them as they walked past the empty witness stand and the clerk's desk. Jack inwardly smiled as he wondered what Tony's reaction would be if Jack inquired about Franco's well-being, since Franco was nowhere to be seen.

Jack was disappointed in the judge's chambers. He'd conjured up an image of highly polished dark wood, leather furniture, and the aroma of expensive cigars, like an exclusive men's club. Instead, it was decidedly seedy, with walls in need of paint and government-issue furniture. Over all hung a miasma of cigarette smoke. The only high point was a massive Victorian-style desk, behind which Judge Davidson sat in a high-backed chair. He was leaning back with his hands clasped behind his head in relative repose.

Jack, Randolph, and Tony sat in low-slung vinyl-covered chairs such that their line of sight was well below that of Judge Davidson. Jack assumed it was a deliberate ploy on the part of the judge, who liked to keep himself on a higher plane. The court reporter sat at a small table off to the side.

"Dr. Stapleton," Judge Davidson began after a brief introduction. "Mr. Bingham tells me you have in this eleventh hour exculpatory evidence in the defendant's favor."

"That is not entirely true," Jack said. "My words were that I can provide corroborated evidence that proves Dr. Bowman did not commit medical malpractice as defined by statute. There was no negligence."

"Is that not exculpatory? Are we playing some sort of word game here?"

"Hardly a game," Jack said. "In this circumstance, it is exculpatory on one hand and incriminating on the other."

"I think you'd better explain," Judge Davidson said. He brought his hands down onto his desktop and leaned forward. Jack had captured his full attention.

Getting his finger under the flap of his envelope, Jack opened it and extracted three documents. He leaned forward and slid the top one across the desk to the judge. "This first affidavit is signed by a licensed Massachusetts undertaker, and it affirms that the body autopsied was indeed the late Patience Stanhope." Jack slid the second paper across. "This affidavit confirms that Dr. Latasha Wylie, a licensed Massachusetts medical examiner, participated in the autopsy, aided in obtaining all specimens, and transported the specimens to the University toxicology laboratory, where she duly transferred them to Dr. Allan Smitham."

Judge Davidson had picked up each affidavit and scanned it. "I'd say this is a commendable chain of custody," he said. He looked up. "And what's the final affidavit?"

"This is what Dr. Smitham found," Jack said. "Are you familiar with fugu poisoning?"

Judge Davidson treated his guests to a brief, wry smile. "I think you better get to the point, son," he said patronizingly. "I've got a jury out there twiddling their thumbs and eager to haul ass."

"It's a kind of often-lethal poisoning people get from eating sushi made from puffer fish. Understandably, it is seen almost exclusively in Japan."

"Don't tell me you are suggesting Patience Stanhope died from eating sushi," Judge Davidson said.

"I wish that were the case," Jack responded. "The poison involved is called tetrodotoxin, and it is an extremely interesting compound. It is extraordinarily toxic. To give you an idea, it is up to one hundred times more lethal than black widow spider venom and ten times more deadly than the venom of the many-banded krait, one of the most venomous snakes of Southeast Asia. A microscopic amount taken by mouth will cause rapid death." Jack leaned forward and slid the final paper toward the judge. "This last affidavit, signed by Dr. Allan Smitham, explains that tetrodotoxin was found in all of the specimens obtained from Patience Stanhope that he tested, at levels suggesting her initial dose was a hundred times greater than what would have been adequate to kill her."

Judge Davidson scanned the document, then extended it to Randolph.

"You might ask: How reliable are the tests for tetrodotoxin?"

Jack continued. "The answer is extremely reliable. The chance of a false positive is close to zero, especially since Dr. Smitham used two entirely separate methods. One was high-pressure liquid chromatography followed by mass spectrometry. The other was radioimmunoassay using a specific antibody to the tetrodotoxin molecule. The results are conclusive and reproducible."