Antoinette van Heugten

by Saving Max (v5) (epub)

  “Ms. Morrison,” asks Langley, “could you give us a thumb-nail sketch of your life with Jonas?”

  Marianne clasps her handkerchief. “Well, after my husband passed away, I raised Jonas all by myself. God knows it wasn’t easy—it never is for any widow—but I suppose you could say that my situation was a bit more…involved. My poor boy had his share of difficulties. He was mentally challenged, autistic, and did not speak well.” She manages a small smile. “But somehow we muddled through, just the two of us.”

  “Would you call yourself a devoted mother?”

  Marianne raises sad, blue eyes. “I don’t customarily engage in self-aggrandizement, Mr. Langley. But I have to say that if there’s one thing I’ve done well, it’s to be the best mother I could be. Children are a gift, not a burden. Even with all of Jonas’s problems, I can honestly say that being his mother has been the greatest honor and blessing of my life.” Eyes brimming, she casts a pained glance at Hempstead, who gives her a sympathetic nod and hands her a box of tissues.

  Langley gives her a few moments to collect herself. “Now, Ms. Morrison, could you tell us the circumstances which led you and Jonas to Maitland?”

  Marianne draws a deep breath. “Certainly. As you may know, I attended Johns Hopkins and am a medical doctor myself. I think every mother of a special-needs child owes it to that child to remain at the forefront of all possible treatment and medication protocols.” She continues in an earnest voice. “I also made a point of identifying those doctors who specialize in autism and other neurological disorders. During my studies, I came across Maitland and decided that if anyone could help my boy, it would be them.”

  “Ms. Morrison,” says Langley. “I know that the rest of our discussion today will be extremely painful for you, but I want to begin at the point when you and Jonas arrived at Maitland.”

  Marianne sets her mouth. The judge’s face mirrors her expression. Not a sound comes from the courtroom, as if the spectators have voted on collective silence. Sevillas picks up his pen.

  “What was your impression of Maitland when you first arrived?” asks Langley.

  “I was introduced to Dr. Ebhart Hauptmann, the chief psychiatrist. We discussed Jonas’s problems, and I felt certain he was in good hands.” She leans toward the judge, a confused look on her face. “Your Honor?”

  “Yes, Ms. Morrison?”

  “I am reluctant to discuss whether the hospital adequately cared for Jonas, because my lawyer advised me not to.”

  “That’s fine, Ms. Morrison.” Hempstead turns to Langley. “I believe the witness has answered the question, hasn’t she, Mr. Langley? Perhaps you could move on to something else.”

  Langley nods. “Certainly, Your Honor. Ms. Morrison, did you spend much time with Jonas after he was admitted to Maitland?”

  “Of course I did. I only left the hospital to eat and sleep.” She turns to the judge. “I couldn’t stand to leave my baby alone.”

  “And would you say you spent more time with Jonas than any other mother with a child on the unit?”

  “I certainly did.”

  “And during Jonas’s stay, did you have occasion to meet the defendant, Ms. Parkman?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you explain the circumstances of your first meeting with Ms. Parkman and how your relationship, if any, developed from that point on?”

  “Well, I noticed that Ms. Parkman and I were staying at the same hotel and that our children were on the same unit, so I introduced myself. You know,” she says in a confidential tone, “there is a certain bond between mothers who have children with special needs. We understand each other’s pain and are uniquely situated to comfort and support one another.”

  “Please go on, Ms. Morrison.”

  “I was naive, I suppose. I always look for the good in people, and I thought Danielle was such a wonderful woman.” She looks earnestly at the judge. “She seemed devoted to her son—as I was—and I made a concerted effort to befriend her and Max.”

  Langley moves forward. “What do you mean by that?”

  Sevillas freezes. Here it comes.

  Marianne shakes her head. “It was just so obvious the poor woman had so much to bear. Max was severely psychotic and violent—”

  Max jumps to his feet. “You’re a liar!”

  Sevillas shoves Max down into his chair and jumps up. “Objection! Are we now going to let the mother of the decedent give an expert opinion on my client’s mental health?” He gives Marianne a warning look. She smiles back politely.

  “Counsel, control your client. And Ms. Morrison,” says the judge gently. “Our rules of evidence do not permit you to comment upon the psychiatric condition of the defendant. Perhaps you could just tell us what you observed.”

  “Well,” Marianne says, “I do think I’m qualified to provide an opinion, given my background, but, of course, Your Honor, I’ll do whatever you tell me to.” She turns back to Langley, who is poised to rephrase his question.

  “Ms. Morrison, how often did you see Ms. Parkman once you made her acquaintance?”

  “We spent a considerable amount of time together on a daily basis. We often went to lunch or dinner together. Of course, I was very busy with Dr. Hauptmann and the other doctors, orienting them to Jonas’s various disorders.”

  “Would you say that the two of you became friends?”

  Marianne looks at Hempstead, who peers at her over her glasses. “In my opinion, we became very good friends in a short period of time.” Her blue eyes appear open and honest. “Here was this woman, so sweet, caring and intelligent—and also a lawyer—that I trusted her implicitly. When Max became so psychotic, Danielle really began to unravel—”

  Max jumps to his feet. “That’s not true!”

  The judge raps her gavel sharply. “Bailiff, remove Mr. Parkman from the courtroom. I’ve had enough of his outbursts.”

  “But Your Honor!” says Sevillas.

  Hempstead holds up her hand as Max is escorted by the bailiff outside the courtroom. Georgia follows them. The judge then turns to Marianne. “And Mrs. Morrison, please try to limit your testimony to the facts, not your opinion of the defendant’s psychiatric problems.”

  “Please forgive me, Your Honor,” she says quickly. “It won’t happen again.”

  Hempstead nods at Langley to continue.

  “Could you describe a typical day at Maitland for us?”

  Marianne holds a water glass to her pink lips and takes a sip. “Well, I arrived every day at seven o’clock. That way, I could catch Dr. Hauptmann on his morning rounds and get an update on Jonas. After we conferred, I would take Jonas to the cafeteria for breakfast. Then we’d come back, sit on the couch and visit.” She looks at the judge. “Typically, Danielle would not arrive until after nine. Then I would bring her up to date on what was going on with Max….”

  Langley looks at her in mock surprise. “You would bring Ms. Parkman up to date on her own son?”

  Marianne nods. “Well, of course. For whatever reason, the doctors had banned Danielle from seeing her son except for short visits twice a day, while I had free access to Jonas. So when she finally came in, I’d let her know how Max looked, what he was doing—that kind of thing.”

  Sevillas stares at his legal pad.

  “And then?”

  “Then Danielle and I would sit and have a cup of coffee.”

  “Where was Jonas during this time?”

  “Next to me, of course.”

  “And Max Parkman?”

  “In the beginning, he sat across from Danielle, but later he was almost always in his room.” She turns to the judge. “I won’t say what kind of psychiatric problems that child has, because you told me not to, but just let me say that he was on enormous amounts of psychotropic medication.”

  Hempstead waves Sevillas off. “Go on, Ms. Morrison.”

  “Max slept a lot during the day,” she says. “My understanding from the nurses is that he was up all night ranting and then required seda
tion. I’m sure that’s why he was so tired—”

  “Objection again, Your Honor!” Sevillas stands. “Is it possible for the witness to tell us only what she observed instead of relying on hearsay to speculate upon Max Parkman’s activities?”

  “Judge,” says Langley, the word dripping in innocence, “please forgive Mrs. Morrison. She’s just trying to answer as fulsomely as possible.” He turns to Marianne. “Only your actual observations, please, Mrs. Morrison.”

  Marianne nods, chastened. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Let’s move on to something else.” Langley’s eyes remind Sevillas of a cockroach scuttling across the floor. “Please relate your specific observations of the interactions between Max Parkman and your son.”

  Marianne straightens her skirt. “Let’s see. Given the amount of time they spent with us, Jonas naturally tried to befriend them.” Her face brightens. “Jonas was such a warm, loving boy, a true innocent. He loved people. Just a heart of gold, that’s all.” Hempstead gives her a commiserating look. “Jonas actually became quite attached to Max.” She sighs. “From the beginning, Max was very unkind in the way he rejected Jonas’s overtures. I could tell that for some unknown reason, Max hated Jonas.”

  “Judge, this is preposterous.” Sevillas stalks toward the bench. “Now she’s testifying about how my client felt!”

  Langley’s voice is as mild as milk. “No, Tony, she’s testifying about what she thought your client was feeling.”

  The judge rolls her eyes. “That’s enough. Mr. Langley, help the witness by asking more specific questions. And Mr. Sevillas,” she says equably, “understand that I’m going to allow the State considerable latitude with this witness. Remember that I am perfectly capable of sifting out proper from improper testimony. You’re just going to have to trust me on that.”

  Sevillas would rather hand over his newborn to the antichrist. “Yes, Judge.”

  She turns again to Sevillas. “And I’d like to remind you, Counselor, that if your other client were here, she would be able to give us her own observations about the relationship between her son and the decedent, now wouldn’t she?”

  Sevillas gives a curt nod and sits down. Goddammit. Danielle is lucky she isn’t here right now. He’d like nothing better than to feed her whole to Hempstead. There is a slight rustle as Georgia guides Max back to his seat. Sevillas is so intent upon the questioning that he barely notices.

  “Ms. Morrison,” Langley intones, “is it true that Max Parkman was in regular contact with your son?”

  Marianne nods. “That is correct. Danielle and I spent so much of our time together, of course I trusted her to monitor Max and Jonas.” Her eyes begin to tear again as she turns to Hempstead. “You don’t know how many times every day now I wish I hadn’t been so trusting.”

  Langley’s face emotes practiced concern. “And what did you actually observe take place between Max and Jonas during the times they were together?”

  “In the beginning,” she says, “Max seemed to ignore Jonas’s overtures to be friendly. As Max became progressively psy—” She turns to Hempstead. “I’m sorry, Your Honor. Max became increasingly hostile toward Jonas.”

  “In what way?”

  She gives him a sorrowful look. “I personally witnessed a few such events, each more troubling than the last. It all started with Jonas trying to be friendly with Max—you know, sitting beside him, showing him a toy, that kind of thing. As the days progressed, Max grew increasingly irritated and slapped Jonas when he thought no one was looking. I told Danielle about it, but she denied that Max would do such a thing.” A ragged sob breaks from her. “If only I had believed my son instead of Danielle. But how was I to know that she was so terribly frightened of the change in Max’s behavior that she would lie to protect him?”

  Langley nods sympathetically and hands her another tissue. “And what was the worst of these episodes?”

  Marianne daubs at streaks of mascara that slide down her cheeks. “It’s so hard for me to talk about. One morning, Jonas, Danielle, Max and I were in the TV room. It was very peaceful. I was knitting, and Jonas was holding my yarn for me. As usual, Max was asleep on the sofa. At some point, Danielle stepped out to smoke a cigarette, something she did quite often. Jonas went over to Max and gently woke him up. When Jonas tried to give him a simple hug, Max went berserk. He jumped up, screamed at Jonas, and then bashed his head against the top of the coffee table….” Her voice catches. After a moment’s struggle, she continues. “Of course, there wasn’t a single nurse or orderly there…”

  Sevillas makes a note. Building her civil case against hospital.

  “…so I rushed over to Jonas, and there he was—screaming on the floor with his head split wide open and blood everywhere, while Max beat him until he broke his ribs.” She breaks down, her head in her hands.

  Max shoots to his feet, his face a mottled red. “She’s a liar! That’s not how it happened!”

  Sevillas yanks him back, but not before the judge spears him with a look as black as ground charcoal. “Mr. Sevillas! You will control your client or I’ll have him taken into custody. We are dealing with a grieving mother here. If you want to put Mr. Parkman on the stand, I’ll be happy to question him myself.” She peers down at Max. “And you will remain completely silent for the rest of this proceeding, or I will have you removed again. Is that clear?”

  Max’s eyes widen, and he nods furiously. “Yes, Your Honor.”

  Sevillas half stands. “No, Your Honor, that won’t be necessary.” He sits down and places a very firm hand on Max’s arm. Max still looks as if he’s ready to explode. Sevillas leans over and whispers in his ear. “Be quiet. Do you want them to think you’re the lunatic they say you are?” Max scowls at Sevillas. He crosses his arms and slides down in his seat.

  Langley walks up to the witness stand, puts his arm around Marianne’s shoulder and pats it gently. When she finally rallies, he walks back to the podium. “Mrs. Morrison, can you tell us what happened then?”

  She nods. “I’ll try. After that, nurses and orderlies came from everywhere. They pulled Max off of Jonas—with Max ranting about Jonas wanting to kill him. That horrible Naomi girl was there, too, egging Max on. A staff member had to drag her away. Dwayne, the strongest orderly, was the only one who could handle Max. He was screaming and cursing, kicking and biting. It was as if he had gone completely mad. I honestly don’t know how Dwayne managed to get him back into his room.” She draws a deep breath. “Only then did the nurse try to treat my poor Jonas for his wounds, but they were so serious that he had to go to the hospital for stitches and X-rays of his ribs.” She raises her eyes to the sympathetic audience. “The only reason I permitted Jonas to stay on the same ward with that boy is because they assured me that Max would never come in contact with Jonas again—and because Danielle promised me she would do everything in her power to have Max moved to another ward.”

  Max shoves Sevillas a hastily scribbled note: She’s nuts! Sevillas shakes his head in amazement. Marianne is just making it up as she goes along.

  Langley preens to the press and then turns back to Marianne. “Are you aware of any other violent episodes between Max and Jonas?”

  “Not that I saw.” She looks down. “But later, well, after I spoke with the nurses, and they told me something I wasn’t aware of.”

  “Such as?”

  Sevillas stands. “Objection—hearsay.”

  The judge barely gives him a glance. “You may cross-examine. Go on, Ms. Morrison.”

  “Well, apparently Max had broken his mother’s compact and threatened Jonas with one of the glass shards.”

  Sevillas grips Max’s shoulder—hard. “Don’t even think about it,” he hisses. Max gives him a malevolent look, but stays in his seat.

  “Anything else, Ms. Morrison?”

  “One of the nurses told me she could tell what a difference a good mother made when she looked at Jonas and how she couldn’t understand how Danielle could remain in denial of
her own son’s terrible mental problems—”

  “Fine.” Langley cuts her off as he glances nervously at Sevillas. “Did you personally observe any behavior on the part of Ms. Parkman that you would call unusual?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid I did.”

  “Can you describe such an instance for us?”

  “I’ll do my best.” She turns toward the judge as if they’re having coffee and biscotti at Starbucks. “One day, Danielle and I were sitting outside. Out of the blue, she asked me the oddest question.” The judge’s gaze is rapt. “She said, ‘Marianne, do you have any experience with hospital computer systems?’ I told her that during my years of residency and nursing, I became quite proficient at working with computers. She asked me a lot of questions about firewalls, passwords, security—that kind of thing. I thought she was just making conversation. Then she sat very still for a moment; looked me straight in the eyes; and said: ‘What do you know about Maitland’s computer system?’ I said, ‘What do you mean?’ She got this very strange look in her eyes, and I felt the hair stand straight up on the back of my neck. Then she told me she wanted to break into Maitland’s computer system.”

  The judge’s eyes widen. Langley is Sylvester the Cat with Tweety’s tail feathers dangling out of his mouth. “Why did she want to do that?”

  “Objection—hearsay.” Sevillas’s voice is rote. He knows Hempstead will overrule him. She does so with a wave of her hand.

  Marianne’s eyes are clear blue. “She was desperate to retrieve whatever logs or notes the staff had recorded about Max. She was convinced that the entire hospital staff was fabricating his symptoms.” She shakes her head sadly. “Of course, I told her not only no, but absolutely no. I’m afraid I was a bit harsh with her, Judge. I informed her that, for better or worse, I have a very strong moral code and could never be party to such a thing.”

  Sevillas closes his eyes and wonders if it will ever end.

  “What happened then?”

  Marianne shrugs. “She told me she intended to have those records and that if I wouldn’t help her, she’d do it herself.”