Out of the Darkness

by Robert D. McKee

  “I surely did, yes, sir.”

  “Would you describe him as a moody man?”

  “I’d describe him as a mean man.”

  Micah was almost on his feet to object, when Walker’s hand came up, stopping him. “Mrs. Eggers,” the judge asked, “do you speak the English language?”

  A baffled look fell across Mrs. Eggers’s chubby face. For a moment she seemed lost for an answer. “Yes,” she finally said, “of course I do.”

  “Well, I’m glad to hear it,” said the judge, “because I was beginning to wonder. The question put to you was, ‘Would you describe Dr. Hedstrom as a moody man?’ As I understand the language myself, that requires a simple yes or a no answer. Either you would describe him as a moody man or you would not. Now which is it?”

  Again Mrs. Eggers’s lips pursed. “Yes,” she said, “I would describe him as a moody man.”

  “Thank you,” said the judge. “Now if you would listen to the question and answer only the question that is asked rather than some question you would like to be asked, maybe we could get this trial over before next Christmas.”

  There was tittering among the crowd.

  “Did he seem to be any more or less moody on this day than any other?” asked Blythe.

  “Well,” said Mrs. Eggers, “he had been in one of his moods for days, but when he came in from riding that machine of his, he seemed right cheerful.”

  “When you say ‘one of his moods,’ are you saying he had been morose the few days prior to the day in question?”

  “Yes.”

  “But he seemed to be feeling better that morning?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now, did anything unusual happen up to the time of Miss Pratt’s arrival at the clinic?”

  “No.”

  “What time was Miss Pratt’s appointment?”

  “If I remember right, it was one-thirty.”

  “Did she arrive alone?”

  “No, she came with her mother.”

  “Very well, now, Mrs. Eggers, did the doctor remove Miss Pratt’s stitches?”

  “I wasn’t there during his examination of her, but the next time I saw her that afternoon, they had been removed, yes.”

  “When was the next time you saw her?” Blythe asked.

  “When the doctor called me into the examination room and told me to prepare the surgery.”

  “Was there a surgery scheduled for that afternoon?”

  “No, sir, there was not.”

  “Did it seem unusual to you that he should make such a request?”

  “Yes, sir, it most certainly did.”

  “What did you do next?”

  “Prepared the surgery.”

  “What did the doctor do next?”

  “He told me my services as surgical nurse would not be required.”

  “Did you find that unusual?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Why?”

  “Because in all the time I worked for the doctor he never performed any surgical procedure without me being there.”

  “What did you do next, Mrs. Eggers?”

  “I left.”

  “And after that?”

  “I’m ashamed to say.” She dropped her gaze to her lap.

  “I realize this is difficult,” Blythe said, “but, please, madam, it’s important.”

  She took in a breath as though drawing in courage. “I waited until I knew the doctor had begun whatever he was planning to do in the surgery, and then I went into examination room two and peeked through the crack in the door.”

  “Why did you do that, Mrs. Eggers?” Blythe asked.

  “Because I couldn’t understand what he could be doing that he would not need assistance. Dr. Hedstrom would not lance a boil without an assistant present.”

  “What did you see when you peeked through the door?”

  “Miss Pratt was on the table. Her legs were in the stirrups, and Dr. Hedstrom was using a curette to . . .” She paused.

  “Yes,” Blythe urged, “go on.”

  “He was scraping the baby out of her.”

  The jury remained stoic, but there were murmurs from the spectators.

  “Could you see this from where you stood?”

  “I could.”

  “Describe the specifics of what you saw that afternoon, Mrs. Eggers.”

  “Your Honor,” Micah said, “may we approach the bench?”

  “You may.”

  All four attorneys and the court reporter stepped to the bench and turned their backs to the jury. In a whisper, the judge asked, “You requested the side-bar, Mr. McConners. What is it?”

  “Your Honor, I object to this line of inquiry. It is designed to elicit testimony of a grisly and macabre nature in yet another effort on the part of Mr. Blythe to inflame the passions of this jury. This area of testimony is highly prejudicial to my client.”

  “Judge,” began Blythe, “The woman—”

  Walker waved his hand, shooing away Blythe’s attempt at a response. “Never mind,” he said. “Young man, Mr. Blythe here has a right to prove his case. If this woman’s testimony is grisly and macabre—very nice words, by the way—” He bestowed his compliment with half a smile. “—so be it. It is something she saw, and she has the right to tell the jury what she saw. As far as the testimony being prejudicial to your client, I disagree. I do expect it to be damaging to your client, but, my word, if the prosecutor didn’t put on at least some testimony that was damaging to your client, he wouldn’t be doing his job, would he? Your objection is overruled.”

  Everyone returned to their places, and Mr. Blythe resumed where he had left off. “Please describe, Mrs. Eggers, the specifics of what you saw as you watched Dr. Hedstrom performing the procedure on Polly Pratt.”

  Again the woman touched the handkerchief to her eyes. “It was awful,” she whispered.

  “You will need to speak up, madam,” Blythe said.

  “I had never seen such a thing done before,” Mrs. Eggers said. “He inserted the curette into the girl’s—into the girl and began to use it to scrape her out.”

  “Excuse me, Mrs. Eggers. This is the second time you mentioned the use of a curette. Could you explain to the jury exactly what a curette is?”

  “It’s a medical instrument. It usually has a long handle at one end and on the other it’s shaped like a spoon; the edges are very sharp. It’s inserted into the uterus and the fetus and placenta are scraped out.”

  “Do the contents of the uterus come out intact?”

  “No, sir. There is a great deal of blood and tissue that comes out. It all comes out in pieces.”

  “Mrs. Eggers, when you say ‘it’ comes out in pieces, to what do you refer?”

  “Why, the baby, sir. The baby comes out in pieces.” Again, the woman brought the handkerchief up, this time to her mouth in an effort to suppress a sob. “It was awful. Awful.”

  “She does this very well,” Chester whispered to Micah.

  “I expect they’ve been rehearsing,” Micah said.

  “And you watched the procedure take place as you peered into the surgery?”

  “I did, sir.”

  “Very well, Mrs. Eggers, what happened next?”

  “When he was finished, I left and went about my chores in another part of the house. An anesthetic was used, and the doctor gave Miss Pratt time to rest. In a few hours, he drove the girl and her mother back to their boarding house.”

  “What did you do at the time?”

  “I had been trying to decide all afternoon what I should do. A crime had been committed, I knew.”

  “Yes.”

  “I felt I should inform the authorities, but, too, I had a loyalty to my employer.”

  “Of course.”

  “I decided to confront the doctor with what I had seen when he returned.”

  “And did you do so, Mrs. Eggers?”

  Once more, up came the handkerchief. “Yes, yes, I did.”

  “Tell us about that.
What did he say, and what did you say?”

  “When he returned, he came in demanding his supper. But I must admit, I was so distraught at what had happened I had not prepared his meal.”

  “Did this make him angry?”

  “Oh, my, yes. Furious. Most times when he gets that way, I’m so frightened, I immediately do whatever it is he is demanding.”

  “Did you do so this time?”

  “No, sir, this time I stood my ground.”

  “Did you tell him what you had seen take place in the surgery earlier in the afternoon?”

  “Yes, sir, I did.”

  “What did he say?”

  “At first he was very quiet. I had never seen him respond in that fashion, and I don’t mind telling you, that was more frightening than when he shouted.”

  “Was there any conversation at all between you and the doctor regarding what he had done to Polly Pratt that afternoon?”

  “Yes, sir. I asked him was there some problem with her pregnancy that required him to perform such a procedure.”

  “As the doctor’s nurse and the keeper of his files, were you familiar with Miss Pratt as a patient?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Were you aware of any specific health problem relating to the young woman?”

  “No, sir, none.”

  “In fact, you were not even aware of her pregnancy, were you, Mrs. Eggers?”

  “No, sir, I was not.”

  “The doctor had never entered that fact in her medical record, had he?”

  “No, he had not.”

  Jackson whispered to Micah, “He’s asking her leading questions.”

  “Yes,” Micah agreed, “but it’s helping to speed things along. The quicker we can get this woman off the stand, the better.”

  “You found it odd, didn’t you, that he had not entered her pregnancy in her records?”

  “Yes, sir, very.”

  “So, Mrs. Eggers, you asked Dr. Hedstrom if Miss Pratt had any life-threatening health problems regarding her pregnancy that would warrant performing the procedure; is that correct? You testified to that a moment ago; am I right about that?”

  “Yes, I asked him that.”

  “What was his response?”

  “He said the only thing wrong with her pregnancy was that it existed at all. He laughed and said, she was carrying some extra baggage, and all he did was help her get rid of it.”

  “Extra baggage? Is that how Dr. Hedstrom referred to this baby, this child, as extra baggage?”

  “Yes, sir. Extra baggage.”

  “What was your response to that, madam?”

  “It is then, I’m sorry to say, that I lost my temper. I said if he didn’t give me some sound, medical reason why he had done what he had done that it was my duty as a citizen and good Christian to inform the county attorney.”

  “His response?”

  “He laughed once more. He said no one would take my word over his, and if I wished to reconsider, I was welcome to stay. Otherwise, I could seek employment elsewhere. I told him that what he had done was inexcusable, and I would seek employment elsewhere, and I gave him notice.”

  “What did he say to that?”

  “He became enraged.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He grabbed me by the hair, dragged me across the parlor, and threw me onto the porch. He told me to leave his house and never come back. He slammed the door in my face, not even allowing me time to collect my possessions.”

  “That was some four months ago, Mrs. Eggers. Was that the last time you have seen Dr. Hedstrom?”

  “Today is the first time I have seen him since, and the last, I hope.”

  “Thank you, Mrs. Eggers,” Blythe said. “No further questions, Your Honor.”

  “Mr. McConners,” Judge Walker said, “we will begin your cross-examination after the noon break.” He turned to the jury. “The jury is instructed not to discuss the case until it is submitted to you for deliberation. Court is in recess.”

  When the judge stood and turned to leave, Earl Anderson shouted, “All rise!”

  As they came to their feet, Jackson Clark grumbled to Micah, “To be so damned young, you sure are slow.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  “Well, Micah,” Jackson said, “we’re halfway through the first witness. When are you going to tell me what the theory of our defense is?”

  “Damn, Jackson,” Chester pointed out, “didn’t you listen to his opening statement? We don’t have a defense.”

  “You know, that’s what I thought he was saying. I guess I couldn’t believe my ears.”

  “Believe them,” Micah said. Micah didn’t find Jackson’s jokes at all funny. The two lawyers had discussed their strategy—or lack of it—many times.

  Micah wasn’t eating. The fluttering in his stomach was gone, and, to his surprise, his spirits were higher than he expected they would be—he had anticipated the blue devils to be pounding at his door long before now—but his insides still didn’t feel steady enough to take on Lottie’s noon special: cornbread, pinto beans, raw onion, and ham. “We’re here to make a moral statement, remember? Not to defend an action at bar.”

  “My, my, aren’t we touchy today?” As Chester said this, he shoveled a huge spoonful of pintos into his mouth. Some juice broke free, glanced off his chin, and landed back in the bowl. He blotted the dribble away with a checkered napkin and said, “You’d think you were the one going to prison.”

  Micah ignored the comment.

  Chester continued, “Every third word Eggers uttered was a lie. She never watched me through the surgery door performing the abortion. If she had, she would’ve been more than pleased to let me know of that little fact when she tried to extort ten thousand dollars from me.”

  Micah slapped his forehead. “Well, damn, I’ll bet you’re right. It’s all clear to me now. Mrs. Eggers made the whole thing up. It’s a fabrication from top to bottom. You never even performed an abortion.”

  Chester gave him a quizzical look.

  Although Micah was not eating, he was, against his better judgement, drinking perhaps his twentieth cup of coffee for the day. Now he dropped the cup into his saucer, sloshing coffee across the tablecloth. “Look,” he said, “most of her testimony is lies, but it doesn’t really matter, does it, Chester?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You did perform the abortion, right?”

  “Well, yes.”

  “The mother’s health was fine, right?”

  “You know it was.”

  Micah picked up the coffee, started to bring it to his mouth, and stopped. “We are now at the place I’ve been telling you we would be for the last month.”

  “Where’s that?” Chester asked.

  “In a courtroom with nothing to say.” He drained his cup. “We can go in there and make some noise and maybe ruffle their feathers on a few bits of inconsistent information. But in the end, we have nothing to say to defend against what you’re charged with.”

  “He’s right, Chester,” Jackson confirmed. “We have no hope with the jury.”

  Chester didn’t respond, but he had stopped eating his ham and beans.

  Jackson looked at Micah. “It’s like you and I’ve been saying, Micah, for the last three weeks. We have to play things more to the judge than the jury. The jury’s going to convict; there’s nothing else they can do. But if we can humanize Chester, get Walker to recognize he’s a good man, has never done this sort of thing before, and only did it because Polly was in a desperate situation, maybe when it comes time for sentencing, the judge’ll be more lenient.”

  “It’s all pretty damned thin,” Micah pointed out.

  Polly and Cedra were sitting at the next table over. Fay was standing, chatting with Cedra, holding a coffee pot. Micah held out his now-empty cup and said, “Fay, how about a little more?” She poured his coffee, gave him a quick smile that only the three men could see, and moved on to another crowded table.

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nbsp; Micah took a sip of the fresh coffee and asked, “Is the door to your clinic locked, Chester?”

  “Yes, why?”

  Micah checked his watch against the clock on the wall. “We still have half an hour before we need to get back. Let me have your keys.”

  Chester got that quizzical look again. “What’re you doing?” he asked as he handed the keys over.

  “I want to check something out. I’ll meet you back at the opera house at one o’clock.” Micah took another sip of coffee and left the café.

  With his notes and a small file folder tucked under his arm, Micah rose from counsel table to begin his examination of Mrs. Eggers. “Remember,” Jackson whispered, “get ’er off that damned witness stand as quick as you can. There’s not a thing you can do to her that’s going to help.”

  Micah grimaced, turned, and approached center stage. “With your permission, Judge,” he said, “I’ll move the lectern a little closer to the witness.”

  Walker nodded.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Eggers,” Micah said with a smile.

  “Good afternoon.”

  “I trust you had a pleasant lunch.”

  “I did, thank you,” the woman said.

  “What was the noon special at the Glendale House?” Micah asked.

  “Sirloin steak.”

  “Tasty, I bet.”

  “Yes, it was very good.”

  “I hope Mr. Anderson also treated you to some of their fine cobbler for dessert.”

  “He did,” she answered with a broad smile.

  Micah turned to the prosecution’s table. “Mr. Anderson is well known for being a big spender.” There was laughter throughout the room, not the least of which came from Anderson and Blythe. Turning back to the witness, Micah asked, “In fact, isn’t it true, Mrs. Eggers, you’ve been allowed a suite of rooms at the Glendale House at taxpayers’ expense since the day you reported this incident to the county attorney?”

  “I object, Your Honor,” Blythe said. “I fail to see how that is relevant.”

  “Overruled, Mr. Blythe.”

  Jackson had told Micah the judge allowed fairly wide latitude on cross-examination, particularly in criminal matters.

  “You may answer that question, Mrs. Eggers,” Micah said.

  “I have been staying at the Glendale House, yes.”

  “Has that been at taxpayers’ expense?”