by Sydney Bauer
Davenport shot a glance at the District Attorney in the hope he could shed some light on where the hell this was going, but the DA remained stony faced, just as confused as his witness.
‘Tell me, Doctor, are some months busier than others?’
‘Excuse me?’ said Davenport, now refocusing on David.
‘You know, more births in one month compared to …?’
‘Oh,’ said Davenport. ‘I see what you are asking, Mr Cavanaugh. Yes, some months are lighter on than others. Of course my work is continuous, conception is an ongoing struggle for many couples. But in regards to births, yes, some months I have many, others are very quiet.’
‘Any impending right now, Doctor?’ asked David, a quick glance at the Kat telling him the DA was now completely perplexed.
‘Ah … no, actually. We are having a quiet spring, but summer will be busy.’
A satisfied David nodded, ready to change tack and move on.
‘Doctor, in your testimony this morning you spoke of your fondness for my client and her daughter.’
‘Yes.’
‘You cared for them both – not just as patients, but personally.’
‘Yes.’
‘And Eliza, would you say she was well looked after?’
A pause. ‘Why … yes.’
‘Well fed, well cared for, a picture of health?’
Davenport was stuck and David knew it. The moment he insinuated Sienna had been remiss in her care of her daughter, he was admitting to failing to take action – for not reporting Sienna and perhaps preventing her daughter's death.
‘Eliza was well,’ he said, sitting on the fence.
David nodded again, ready to throw his next curve ball. ‘Tell me, Doctor, did Eliza Walker look like her mother or her father?’
The question shocked him, just as David knew it would. The whole purpose of David's strategy, given he knew he had no direct evidence to nail Davenport, was to scare the hell out of him. He knew that there were two things people did when they were terrified – stay and fight or turn and run – and David sensed, or rather he hoped, that Davenport was a runner.
‘Ah … she looked like her mother,’ Davenport replied, his eyes once again flicking toward the DA.
David followed his eyes. ‘It's okay, Doctor, Mr Katz won't have any objection to your telling the truth in this case. So Eliza looked like her mother and not like Jim Walker – which I guess was no surprise to you in any case.’
Davenport coughed, his neck jerking toward the prosecution's table.
‘Objection.’ Katz was up.
David knew the DA was reacting to his witness's obvious distress and prayed the Kat had no idea how to follow up his objection.
‘Your Honor, really, this is beyond petty,’ Katz attempted. ‘Is this line of questioning actually going anywhere?’
‘That's not exactly a valid objection, Mr Katz, but I could ask the same question, Mr Cavanaugh?’ said Stein now looking at David.
‘Your Honor,’ David was ready. ‘Dr Davenport has gone to pains to establish his closeness to my client and the victim. As such, I am trying to quantify this relationship by clarifying said closeness and thus shed some light on the doctor's ability to assess my client's apparent resentment toward her daughter.’
This was a load of crap but it sounded believable – in a half-baked sort of way. David didn't care if Stein thought he was an idiot, what he needed to do was keep poking at the witness until he wanted to scream.
‘All right, your objection is overruled, Mr Katz, but you need to move things along, Mr Cavanaugh. We don't have all day.’
David nodded, as if ready to continue.
It was at this point that the back door opened. Two young women entered the room. One was dressed in a leopard print mini-skirt and the other, heavily pregnant, in an oversized grey sweatsuit.
Davenport saw them immediately and the look on his face was priceless. The colour drained from his cheeks and his left eye started to twitch as he placed both of his hands on the railing before him, leaning forward to take the pair in. But Madonna was fast. She shuffled her friend, who wore a baseball cap low over her eyes, into a back bench and sat down quickly just as David had instructed.
‘Doctor?’ said David, now standing in front of the witness and blocking his view of the gallery. ‘Is everything okay?’
‘Yes,’ replied Davenport. ‘I … I am fine, please go on, Mr Cavanaugh.’
Fight or flight. Davenport wanted to fly and David knew it. Davenport was bursting to confirm the two girls were who he feared they were – Madonna and his pregnant surrogate Sophia.
‘Dr Davenport,’ David continued, now ready to push that bit further. ‘Earlier this morning you told the court that you administered sedatives to my client on the night of her daughter's murder – that she was incredibly distressed and as her physician you made the decision to medicate her.’
‘Yes,’ said Davenport, his neck still craning to the left.
‘Did she ask you to give her the sedatives?’ asked David.
‘I … no,’ he said. ‘But she was close to hysterical and I did not think it was in her best interests to be interviewed by the police in that state.’
‘You were trying to protect her?’
‘In a way … yes.’
‘Because you thought she might have killed her daughter?’
‘Well,’ another flick at Katz. ‘I thought it was a possibility.’
‘Even then?’
‘Yes.’
‘Because she was depressed?’ It was a trick question.
‘Yes … I mean no. As I said, Sienna Walker did not suffer from PPD.’
‘But you told the police she was depressed,’ shot David. This was a lie. Joe's witness reports had confirmed Davenport had said no such thing on the night of Eliza's death. But David was pretty sure that Davenport was too confused to remember what had happened a moment ago, let alone on the night in question, and so he pressed on. ‘Doctor?’ he said.
‘I … I might have said she was depressed because …’
‘Because you thought Sienna was a killer and you wanted to protect her? But wouldn't that be aiding and abetting a criminal of the highest order? And isn't your responsibility to the babies – the ones you helped create?’
And then David heard it, right on cue. Carina called out. It was a sudden moan that reverberated from the back of the room – and it was soon followed by another noise, this one coming from Madonna, with all the drama it required. ‘Oh god, Sophia, are you okay?’
Carina replied, ‘I'm fine.’
The entire room turned to look at the now standing brunette who was hovering over the sloppily dressed girl beside her.
‘Do you need some help, young lady?’ asked a concerned Stein from the front of the room.
‘No,’ said Carina – about as much as she could manage given the nerves that had obviously overtaken her.
‘Your Honor,’ said Davenport, who was now also on his feet. ‘I know this young woman, she is a patient, and as such I think it best that I attend to …’
Stein turned to the witness. ‘This girl is your patient?’
‘Yes.’
David didn't miss a beat. ‘But I thought you said spring was light-on, Doctor?’
Everyone in the room froze in silence until, ‘She's okay,’ said Madonna – the girl had perfect timing. ‘I'm just going to take her out for some air.’ Madonna helped Carina to her feet and moved quickly to the back of the room.
That was when David knew that Davenport understood he was trapped. And David looked at Davenport with such loathing that it would have been impossible for the doctor not to know that David knew everything – everything – and that he would not rest until he brought Davenport down.
‘Your Honor,’ said Davenport, now shaking his head to clear it before focusing on the Judge. ‘I really should attend to my patient.’
Stein looked at David. ‘I tend to agree, Mr Cavanaugh,’ he said.
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br /> And David, who knew that by this point Madonna and Carina sans pillow would be safely back in their little conference room, agreed.
‘Of course,’ said David. ‘I certainly would not want to stand in the way of a doctor wanting to help his patient.’ He turned to Davenport while still addressing the Judge. ‘I have no further questions for this witness in any case, Your Honor,’ he said. ‘In other words, I am well and truly done.’
1.49 pm
Seconds later Nora entered the courtroom. She gave David a nod to indicate that Madonna and Carina were safely behind closed doors. The nod also told David that Arthur was on Davenport's tail. The plan was to follow the now hopefully panicked doctor who they guessed would be desperate to find out what the hell was going on. They figured that the first thing he would do, once he could not spot Madonna or ‘Sophia’, would be to call and/or head to the place where he had Sophia holed up. And given Davenport was the DA's last witness, David knew he was well within his rights to ask for an early adjournment – which meant he could join Arthur in the pursuit.
‘David, that was brilliant.’ This was from Sienna, who now leant close to his ear. ‘I suspect we plan to follow him?’
‘That's the plan,’ said David, as Sara joined their huddle.
‘We need to get out of here,’ said Sara to David.
David nodded as they all sat back in their seats.
Stein gave a gentle bang of his gavel to call the court back to order.
‘Mr Katz, I believe that concludes the Commonwealth's case, which means,’ he turned to David, ‘that if you are ready to call your first witness, Mr Cavanaugh, you may do so.’
David got to his feet. ‘Thank you, Your Honor, but at this stage I would ask the court's permission to adjourn for the rest of the day so that we might start fresh tomorrow morning. My first witness, Dr Barbara Wong McGregor, is busy with a consult at the juvenile court this afternoon but she has cleared her entire schedule tomorrow, and will be available from nine.’
David looked at the jury, knowing Stein's eyes would follow. The jury looked exhausted. The morning had been long and intense and David guessed everyone present, most of all himself, would be grateful for the break.
The Judge nodded. ‘All right, Mr Cavanaugh,’ he conceded, thankfully without any complaints regarding David's failure to make his witness available this afternoon. Stein turned to Katz. ‘Mr Katz, we shall resume –’
‘Your Honor.’ The DA rose to his feet and David resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. David knew there was nothing Katz could do to overrule Stein's decision to call for an early end to the day's session, but he was going to whine about it in any case, just to get under David's skin.
‘If you would recall, last week I tabled a request for extra time, just in case I felt the Commonwealth's case would benefit from a slight extension.’
David looked at the DA. Joe had told him about the information Rigotti had passed on – that the Kat had allowed himself the option of running slightly over the time allocated to him. But this had not concerned David, simply because it was nothing new. The Kat had often requested an extension to his allotment so that he might milk a key witness dry. While David had never felt on top of this case, he had felt confident that he had largely foreseen how the DA would play his prosecution – and as yet, it had pretty much gone to plan. Katz had indeed worked his key witness, Dick Davenport, to maximum effect, and David had concluded that the DA would have, and should have, been incredibly pleased with Davenport's three long hours of testimony, given it ticked every single one of the yet-to-be-ticked boxes on the DA's evidentiary list.
‘Do you require more time, Mr Katz?’ Stein's eyebrows rose over the top of his wire-rimmed glasses.
‘Yes, Your Honor. You see, some new evidence has come to light, just in the past hour, and as such, I have one more witness who –’
‘Side bar, Your Honor.’ David shot up, seeing the concerned look on his client's face in his peripheral vision. He had no idea what the Kat was up to but had the feeling he'd need to fight it tooth and nail – and he didn't want to have to do this in front of the now wide-eyed jury.
‘You may approach,’ said Stein, prompting Katz and David to head toward the bench.
‘This better be good, Mr Katz,’ said Stein, silencing David with the palm of one hand while covering his microphone with the other.
‘I apologise, Your Honor, but there was no way I could have foreseen this evidentiary addition. You see, the witness in question has just returned from an overseas trip, and in all good conscience has approached me with new information which is highly relevant to this case.’
‘Judge, he cannot be serious.’ David was ready. ‘I hardly know where to begin, but let me start with unfair surprise, suppression of relevant information, failure to produce discovery …’
Stein's palm was up again. ‘He's right, Mr Katz.’
‘And it is your prerogative to shut this witness down, Your Honor, but I would suggest, before you do so, you must consider that such an action could well result in my bringing subsequent charges against the defendant.’
Subsequent charges? What in the hell?
‘Who is this witness, Mr Katz?’ asked a now uneasy Stein.
‘A Miss Maisie Malloy, Your Honor.’ Katz stole a sideways glance at David. ‘She is the midwife who delivered the defendant's daughter. She has just returned to Boston from her home base of Dublin and has made herself available to the court.’
The midwife? ‘The midwife's name was Mary Brown, Your Honor,’ said David, unable to make sense of it.
‘That was the name listed on the birth certificate, Your Honor,’ replied Katz, ‘but if you will permit me to proceed, I can assure you that this and other important anomalies associated with the night of Eliza Walker's delivery will be explained within a matter of minutes.’
David was starting to panic. All of this was new. Why in the hell would Katz be calling the goddamned midwife? What in the hell could he have to gain?
‘Your Honor,’ he began, ‘how on earth are we supposed to prepare for the cross-examination of a witness we did not even know existed?’ David needed to talk to his client – to buy himself some time.
‘Oh, I have no problem with you taking your adjournment after my witness's testimony, Mr Cavanaugh,’ said the now smarmy-faced DA. ‘I suspect the jury is used to your procrastination, so they will not find anything unusual in your decision to ask for some additional time to prepare your cross.’
‘You're a fuckwit, Roger,’ said David.
‘Enough!’ spat Stein. The Judge took a breath before turning to Katz once again. ‘You have ten minutes to prove this witness's worth, Mr Katz.’
‘But Your Honor,’ argued a now furious David.
‘I understand your frustration, Mr Cavanaugh, but Mr Katz is within his rights,’ he said, with just the slightest shake of his head in apology. ‘Move back and make it fast, Mr Katz,’ he said.
The Kat nodded, his chest expanding in victory, as David turned to walk back toward his client.
And he could hear her then, that fat lady Stein had referred to earlier. She was finally starting to sing.
2.01 pm
He was on the road. He had managed to slow his breathing. He had spent a good half-hour combing the corridors and scanning the Superior Court square in an attempt to find them. But they were nowhere to be seen. They had tricked him, and he had fallen for it, and now it was time to move.
He had been calling the Eliot, praying Sophia would pick up. Of course he had no guarantee that she had gone to the hotel as he had instructed during the brief morning recess, but that in itself was starting to ease Davenport's concerns.
He'd told her he needed to see her urgently, that he believed it was now time to induce her baby and that with any luck, her child would be born healthily before the day was out. And he knew, beyond anything, that Sophia would do what she believed to be best for her baby, which would not have included attending court with
that halfwit Madonna – no, definitely not.
Of course this reprieve brought a fresh concern – that being that Madonna was definitely working with the defence and that the entire courtroom charade was a ruse to entrap him. Was he being followed? He did not think so. He had tried his best to take the narrow side streets and do various double backs and other manoeuvres in order to gauge if there was another car tracking him. But he had seen nothing, so he figured it was safe to make his way toward the Eliot and finish this thing once and for all. Not that I have much choice, he told himself then, given the exchange is set for three, and it would be wise to be out of Boston before the court was adjourned at five.
And so, as he turned right into Commonwealth and drove down the wide and sunny tree-lined street, he told himself that he needed to forget about the package and the pain this exchange would bring, for the time for considering other parents ahead of himself was over, and his future was finally within reach.
2.28 pm
Lisa Cavanaugh grabbed her navy blue cardigan and her oversized handbag from her scratched staff locker. It was almost two-thirty and she was officially exhausted after a week of back-to-back shifts. Cole had not come for that coffee, which meant he was either still busy, or was napping on his research room chair, so she decided to stop in on him to check on his progress, maybe even offer to shout him a late lunch at that new café on Blossom Street.
‘Hey.’ The voice came from behind her.
Lisa jumped. ‘Jesus, Cole, sneak up on me why don't you?’ She held her palm to her chest. ‘I just signed off. I was going to come see you.’
She met his eye and saw he had that look he got when he was bursting to tell her something, the one where his eyes light up and his mouth starts to open in an attempt to get the words out.
‘Is your brother still in court?’ he asked.
‘I guess so,’ said Lisa. ‘Oh my god. Do you have a result?’
He nodded as he grabbed her by the elbow and dragged her out of the staffroom and into the ER proper. ‘We're going to see him.’
She dragged her handbag up over her shoulder. ‘Okay,’ she said, picking up the pace. ‘You gonna tell me what you got?’ she asked as she dodged doctors, nurses, patients, trolley beds and hospital equipment and fell into a half-jog beside him.