Chase, the Bad Baby: A Legal and Medical Thriller (Thaddeus Murfee Legal Thriller Series Book 4)

by John Ellsworth

  Pepper nodded, yes, they were good.

  “So what brings you here?”

  “Two killings,” said Washington.

  “Look, let’s cut right to the chase,” said Pepper. “You obtained the names and backgrounds of two recent murder victims. We know you’re the perp.”

  Thaddeus held out his wrists. “So, cuff me and take me away. I’m right here.”

  The agents traded a look.

  Thaddeus nodded. “You can’t because you don’t have jackshit on me. You don’t have opportunity, you aren’t even sure you have motive, are you? Oh, that’s right, motive is never required for federal crimes. But the FBI lives on motive. So all you need is some evidence.”

  “We’re not here to arrest you. We’re here to tell you that your little evade and avoid games have run their course. You’re in our sights. You’re interfering with a federal investigation and I’m about to go speak to the U.S. Attorney about charging you with something easy, something like obstruction of justice, just to get a bracelet on your ankle. Then you won’t sneak off.”

  “Get the bracelet. Go for it. I’ve done nothing wrong here.”

  Pepper gave him a long, hard stare. “You’re so close and you don’t even get it.”

  “What don’t I get?”

  “We’re going over the steam room and we’re finding no DNA because there is none. We’re going over the Jungle Zone restroom and we’re finding no DNA and forensics netted a goose egg, but we can put you there that night, thanks to the security cameras. We’ve got you coming into the mall and leaving the mall. We’ve got you coming into the restaurant and leaving the restaurant. We’ve got somebody paying for an extra-long thunderstorm because he needs background noise for the door he’s about to kick down.”

  “But what you don’t have is evidence. Anything else you want to say? If not, I’ve got a deposition at nine on a bad baby case and I really need to get ready.”

  She scowled. Washington picked lint off his sleeve.

  “Agents are executing a search warrant at your home as we speak.”

  “Be my guest.”

  “We have a search warrant for this office.”

  “Be my guest. The deposition is at the defendant’s office. I’ll be out of your way in ten minutes. Remember too that your search warrant does not allow you to browse client files. If I find that you have, I will sue you and get a judgment against you and collect your badges in my badge collection.”

  “My, my,” she taunted, “aren’t we getting snippy in our middle age?”

  “I’m not thirty years old yet. So I don’t know who you’re talking about. Just remember what I said, please.”

  “We have no intention of looking at client files. Client files didn’t just kill Abu-Nidal.”

  “I don’t know who that is, and I don’t care who that is. I’ll ask you to wait in the hallway now until I leave.”

  “No can do. We have to execute this warrant.”

  “Then I’ll leave you to that.”

  They had nothing else.

  He pulled on his suit coat, walked to the door, and left without another word.

  But the game was on, he knew.

  The game was definitely on.

  34

  The Jones Marentz pre-trial preparation room was huge, centered by a rosewood table the size of a backyard pool, surrounded by strategically placed whiteboards and giant paper tablets on tripods, surfaces that reflected the bright overheads back upon the tabletop, making it dazzle as if outdoors. Ten-foot ficus trees anchored the corners, and at one end was a series of six horizontal wide-screens where different size videos could be cued. Present were A.W., Morgana, Manny, Dr. Payne, Sandy, and Carson.

  It was a sandpaper session. The witness/defendant would have his testimony rehearsed, aided, and abetted by his expert defenders, and the rough edges knocked off. Dr. Payne was sweating profusely and waved a white handkerchief in his hands in the copyrighted manner of Satchmo, as he gave proposed answers to practice direct- and cross-examination questions.

  Morgana stood at a whiteboard on which he had printed “30 Minutes Decision to Incision.”

  “And at Decision plus twenty-one minutes, Dr. Payne arrives and is in the scrub room.”

  Manny nodded, following along on the trial script he had carefully prepared. “Right, and the nurse’s notes indicate they have arrived in the OR and have been told Dr. Payne is scrubbing.”

  A.W. looked over at Carson. The two senior partners exchanged a smile. Morgana and Manny were performing like trained seals starved for fresh fish. It was all false, what they were laying out, but required.

  Morgana continued. “Sandy, you’re the head of Special Claims. Are these notes the originals we’re looking at here?”

  Sandy said, “They are. We’ve been over them downtown and they’re the real thing.”

  Manny lowered his head. He literally was biting his tongue to stay out of what he wanted so badly to start.

  Morgana continued. “What about Nurse Andrea? Has she seen the records since that night?”

  Sandy looked at the ceiling for his answer. “Andrea’s National Guard unit was called up. She’s working a flying hospital between Ramstein, Germany, and Walter Reed. Not available.”

  Carson tented his fingers. “How convenient for us.”

  Manny’s eyes narrowed and fixed on Sandy. “She’s really unavailable?”

  “She’s really unavailable.”

  Manny’s shoulder sagged in resignation. “Well, I just can’t keep quiet about this. The nurse’s notes you’re going over right now are not the same as the original ones.”

  Sandy’s face reddened with anger. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  Manny sprawled back in his chair and crossed his legs in the manner of one no longer attending the meeting with the same sophistication as the other visitors. “It means someone at Hudd Family Healthcare screwed the pooch. They sent us the original nurse’s notes and the doctored nurse’s notes. Original records the kid wins. Doctored records the doctor wins. How ironic.”

  A.W. lifted a hand. “Which records have been turned over to the plaintiff?”

  “Not to worry, sir. We’re using the set that favors Dr. Payne. We’re using the forged set. Now we can all go out to lunch and blow two hundred bucks on Hudd Family while this little kid gets ready for a lifetime of inadequate health care.”

  There, it was said. Manny had laid the egg in the middle of the table.

  The room fell silent. Sandy finger-stirred his coffee and sucked his finger. Morgana continued writing on the whiteboard. Manny met anyone’s gaze who looked his way. He was defiant, fed up.

  After several stare-downs, Carson rose to the moment and took up the firm’s banner.

  “Morgana, I want you to replace Mr. Rodriguez on this case. Manny, please excuse yourself now. I’ll come by your office and we’ll talk about your concerns.”

  Dr. Payne was all self-righteous smiles. “About time. He’s not helping the defense.”

  Morgana turned from the board. “A.W., I need Manny on this case with me. He’ll work with me, I can promise you.”

  A.W. shook his head. He exhaled a long breath and said, “You heard the managing partner. It’s his call who staffs what cases.”

  Carson gave Morgana what all understood was an order. “Pick one of your new associates. They can burn some midnight oil and get up to speed on the case in two or three nights.”

  With a thump of his chair shoved back against the wall, Manny stalked out.

  Morgana nodded. “Whatever you say. Dr. Payne, let’s close the loop with you. What time did you leave home for the hospital that night?”

  “As soon as I got the page.”

  “Sandy, what time did the first page go out from the hospital?”

  “The first and only page that shows up in the hospital’s log is the one at six thirty-five that night.”

  “So you left home, you can say around six forty, right?”

&nbs
p; “Right.”

  “And how long did it take you to drive to the hospital?”

  “Well, rush hour was over by then. I would say maybe ten minutes. We just live out by the lake.”

  “Then the notes”—Morgana paged through the notes—“—the notes show the OR staff has been told at six fifty-three that you’ve arrived and that you’re scrubbing. Sound about right?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “No, you don’t suppose so. You know so. “You know because—”

  A.W. interjected, “Because I always time myself from home to the hospital.”

  Dr. Payne got it. “Because I always time myself from home to the hospital.”

  “Exactly. So you know you have arrived at Andrea’s Decision mark at six fifty-three. And the baby is delivered at six fifty-seven.”

  Dr. Payne recited what they’d previously coached. “When the anesthesiologist is told I’m in the scrub room next door he makes the last prep to put mama under. When I walk through the door after that, mama goes to sleep.”

  “How long to cut and deliver?”

  The doctor shrugged. “Minutes. Three, tops.”

  Morgana looked at her watch. “So the baby—Chase—is delivered at—”

  —examining nurse’s notes once again—

  “—at exactly six fifty-seven. Is that what you remember?”

  “It must be, but that’s not what I wrote on the birth certificate.”

  Morgana encouraged him. “And you know that was inaccurate because you always—”

  “—I always look up at the OR clock and call the time of delivery for the nurse to chart. But it isn’t until later that I sign off on the birth certificate using the current time. That’s why the birth certificate shows a later time.”

  Carson silently applauded, approving. “Beautiful answer. Gentlemen, we’re on the way to a big win here.”

  A.W. took a swig of bottled water. “Dr. Payne, you’re going to have to learn to be more sure of yourself and the answers you give. Get assertive, man.”

  “I can do that. Can I ask a dumb question?”

  A.W. gave the standard trial lawyer answer. “There are no dumb questions.”

  Carson added, “Not when there’s ten or fifteen million at stake.”

  “Or fifty,” said Morgana.

  “That’s right, ‘or fifty.’”

  Dr. Payne understood. But he felt put-upon. Why were they even doing this? “Why don’t we just settle? Why don’t we pay the kid something and be done with it? Isn’t that the right thing to do?”

  Sandy said, “I’ve got that. Doc, this case wouldn’t settle under fifteen million. Hudd Family Healthcare doesn’t settle bad baby cases for fifteen mil.”

  Dr. Payne said, “You don’t?”

  “Hell no, we go to trial. We stack the deck and go to trial.”

  Dr. Payne tried it from a different angle. “What if we offered five million?”

  “They’d spit in our eye. Thaddeus Murfee is known to hit big on these bad baby cases. He knows he’s got a shot at fifteen to thirty million.”

  Morgana was ready to move it along. “OK, Doc, why don’t you and I just run through it again while these gentlemen go have lunch. Can you do that?”

  “I’m not doing much else these days.”

  “I understand that. This time, though, I want you to sit over here and pretend you’re sitting on the witness stand. I’m going to ask you the same questions I’ll be asking you in court. That way we can practice every answer, every look on your face, the whole nine yards. Cool?”

  “I’m good with that. What should I wear to court?”

  * * *

  Back in Morgana’s office the inquisition was underway. They were seated opposite at the desk, and Morgana was pointing her finger in his face.

  “You really hosed me out there. Just let me make one thing perfectly clear.”

  “I know, I’ve already heard. Jim Barnes is going to trial with you instead of me.”

  “That’s part of it. Let me just ask you—do you still have those original nurse’s records?”

  “Staples case? They’re on the cloud. I told you that.”

  “OK, take them down. Destroy them. I’m going to have to appear in court one of these days and tell Judge Moody the plaintiff has all her records. I don’t want to go to jail for perjury later if someone manages to get their hands on them.”

  “Huge mistake. Just turn them over and get something else going in your life. There’s other jobs, dude.”

  “Manny—”

  “Got it. Consider them destroyed. Is that everything, oh Wise One?”

  “It’s never everything. Now get the hell out of here.”

  Manny was leaving but was met at the door by Carson, who entered the office, blocking Manny’s exit.

  “Not so fast, son. Sit your ass back down in that chair. Good.”

  Morgana said, “He knows he’s not going to trial with me. I’ve explained it.”

  Carson said to Manny, “Are you purposely trying to run off our clients?”

  Manny smiled. Morgana had to hand it to him. He showed no external signs of being intimated by the managing partner. He said, “I’m purposely trying to help our clients see what this law firm is really about.”

  “I’ll ask again, are you purposely trying to cost us clients?”

  “All I want is for our clients to know their cases are being manipulated by the partners in this firm.”

  “And how long would it take you to box your things and leave our offices?”

  “Why?”

  “Because I’m going back to my office and I’m calling security to escort you out. You’re terminated. If security finds you here I’m going to have you arrested for trespassing.”

  Manny reached inside his jack and clicked RECORD on his iPhone.

  “Mr. Palmer. You’re saying I’m terminated and I’m no longer a member of the Hudd Family defense team?”

  “You, sir, were never a member of the Hudd Family defense team. Now get your stuff and get out.”

  “Yes sir.”

  Manny exited and noisily returned to his own office, high-fiving people in the hall as he went, and slamming his door. He slammed a box on his desk and began packing his personal items.

  “Never a member of the defense team?” he said to no one. “That will come back to bite you in the ass, I’m almost certain of it.”

  35

  The Niles neighborhood was a culturally diverse area that was popular among young professional couples. It was close enough to Chicago to hit the Art Institute and Theatre District, but far enough out to avoid some of the city’s ills, especially poor schools. John and Latoya Staples decided to put down Niles roots and raise the kids in a safe part of town. They enrolled them in Catholic school to guarantee the best education for them. They had owned a condo in Niles for four years and were extremely happy in it. They were also twelve months ahead on mortgage payments. The future was bright.

  But then the tragedy with Chase overwhelmed their happy home. They were beside themselves, at wits’ end, and they were exhausted with trying to care for him. Help was needed and prayed for, but help was expensive and so far they hadn’t figured out how to move things around on their budget to make it work, to get professional hands in place.

  A nice clean living room, comfortable sofa, and two worn chairs facing, John Staples and Attorneys Thaddeus Murfee and Morgana Bridgman were making small talk while Latoya poured coffee. John Staples was a casually dressed man in his mid-thirties, wiry and strong, who looked like he could hold his own in any alley. Latoya finished up playing hostess and joined the threesome in the living room.

  Thaddeus led things off after the mandatory small talk was concluded. “OK, Mr. and Mrs. Staples. The court has given Morgana here permission to visit the house and to see Chase up close.”

  The father nodded solemnly, “We understand.”

  Thaddeus added, “The reason that I’m making a Day in the Life film ab
out Chase is that I plan to introduce it as evidence at trial.”

  “We understand that too.”

  A camerawoman had set up her tripod and camera in a corner, inconspicuous and staying out of the zone of influence. Thaddeus nodded at her and she switched the camera to ON.

  “So why don’t we begin by having you describe some of the peculiar things about Chase. Let’s start with you, John, tell us some things about Chase that you have noticed from the older kids—who are in school today, Morgana, by the way.”

  “Well, when our son was born he had a terrifying Apgar score. Plus his eyes diverged a little but they told us that was nothing to worry about.”

  Thaddeus asked, “So his eyes were open early?”

  “He was practically born with his eyes open. I was right there just after. My mom came over to watch our kids. So I watched Chase. OK, so he cried a lot. He really cried a lot. He cried throughout most of the day and night. He hardly slept. I know, I was there in the hallway watching him like a hawk.”

  Morgana spread her hands. “Some children cry more than others, I suppose.”

  “No, Chase cried more than normal. He wouldn’t stop crying for hours. Then he would exhaust himself and sleep for maybe fifteen minutes. Then he would wake up and start the whole thing again, crying and catnapping. I called it catnapping.”

  “Let me write that down,” said Morgana. “Excuse me, I just need to figure out notes on my iPad. Okay, got it. Please continue.”

  “And the worst part was, when he did doze off he refused to sleep horizontal. He had to be held before he would sleep. Either me or Latoya or the nurses would be holding him while he catnapped. This was at the hospital. Then we got to bring him home. Tough little guy but he cried all the way home in the old Crown Vic we drive. Plus he threw up all over me not once but twice.”

  “Describe what home was like.”

  “OK, now we’re home. Let me tell you what this is like in a typical day of Chase’s life. Even now we have to take turns in the recliner all night, holding Chase while he catnaps. Then he’ll be awake and for a little while he’ll only be restless. But then it sets in again—crying.”