Saving Max

by Antoinette van Heugten

  They have more fun, don’t they?

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  Sevillas glances at the witness list he has compiled. He’s arranged them in the order he thinks Langley will put them on. His bet this morning was that Langley would put on the M.E., Kreng and then Marianne Morrison. When the bailiff calls out the next name, he’s glad he didn’t put any money on the table.

  He glances over at Max. The poor kid is barely hanging on as it is. He turns to look at Georgia over Max’s bowed head. He can tell that she is also skeptical that Danielle will arrive in time to save them.

  Reyes-Moreno has been on the stand for about fifteen minutes. Langley is making his ponderous way through a laundry list of credentials that would impress Freud. President of the Board of Directors of the American Psychiatric Association; first in her class at Harvard Medical School; practicing psychiatrist for twenty-five years, fifteen at Maitland; worldwide lecturer on myriad psychiatric and neurological disorders in adolescent patients. Sevillas would have welcomed this delay, but doesn’t want the judge to hear a complete laundry list of what a great expert Reyes-Moreno is.

  “Your Honor?” He rises halfway out of his seat. “If it please the Court, the defense accepts that the witness’s credentials the District Attorney so liberally provides are accurate. As we are not in trial and there is no jury to consider, could we get on with questioning pertinent to the issues at hand?”

  Hempstead gives Sevillas a small smile. “Objection sustained. The court will accept a written résumé of the witness, Mr. Langley. Let’s get on with it, shall we?”

  Langley looks annoyed, but nods and turns to his witness. “Dr. Reyes-Moreno, do you know the defendant, Max Parkman?” Langley then points at Max. The doctor smiles at Max and directs her gaze at Langley.

  “Yes.” Her voice is clear and melodic. Dressed in a soft gray suit that contrasts with her white hair, her manner appears thoughtful and professional.

  “Your basic witness nightmare,” Sevillas mutters to himself. He knows that if a woman is smart and presents herself well, the judge will think she is a credit to the sex—someone who’s fought hard to get to the top, just like her. If she’s stupid, the judge won’t be able to imagine how she got there and will resent an undeserved climb up the professional ladder. If she’s smart—but also a smart-ass—the judge will feel obliged to take her down a peg or two, lest she discredit the sister-hood.

  “How often did you interact with Max Parkman after he was admitted?”

  “I saw Max on a daily basis.” The doctor folds her hands calmly in her lap and looks at the judge with clear, emerald eyes. “The Maitland concept of psychiatric treatment is to create a ‘team’ for each patient. We select a specific group of psychiatrists, neurologists and educational psychologists who we feel are most qualified to work together on the diagnostic aspects of the case, as well as to devise the best long-term solution for the whole child. Each team is as different as each child.” The judge nods, obviously impressed.

  “Were you on Max’s team?” asks Langley.

  “Yes, I was Max’s primary psychiatrist and thus had the responsibility for overseeing his team and treatment plan. I attended all staffings related to Max and conducted all psychiatric sessions with him.”

  Langley rustles through his notes and then looks up. “I assume that you were ultimately able to diagnose Max’s psychiatric problems?”

  She takes off her silver glasses and rubs her eyes. “It was not solely my diagnosis, but the conclusion reached by each member of Max’s team.”

  “And what was that diagnosis, Doctor?”

  Sevillas jumps to his feet. “Objection, Your Honor.”

  “Yes, Mr. Sevillas?”

  “The defendant’s diagnosis is protected by the doctor-patient privilege.”

  Langley approaches the bench. “Judge, it is the State’s position that the diagnosis of Max Parkman and his erratic and increasingly violent behavior are intrinsically related to the murder of Jonas Morrison by the defendant. This witness will testify as to both. It is imperative that she be allowed to explain the diagnosis and her observations of the effect this had on the defendant’s state of mind prior to the murder.”

  “Your Honor,” says Sevillas. “If you permit this witness to testify in open court about the actual diagnosis of Max Parkman, you will be subjecting that boy to extreme prejudice, especially once the press gets it. This diagnosis was made in a private facility which keeps patient information strictly confidential unless the patient or his legal guardian permits disclosure to a third party.” He draws a breath. “And I can assure you, Judge, no such permission has been given in this case, either by the patient or his mother.”

  “Now, Mr. Sevillas, if we were sitting here in front of a jury, I would agree with you,” she says. “However, there is no harm in having the bench hear this testimony, and I believe you have to admit it is relevant to the State’s case.” Sevillas starts to object further, but Hempstead raises her hand. “To avoid any potential prejudice to Max Parkman and to preclude any future jury pool contamination, I now order that the courtroom be cleared.”

  The bailiff rises. “Clear the courtroom.”

  After a few moments of grumbling and shuffling feet, the disappointed observers and press corps make their exit. Sevillas gives Georgia a quick glance that says Max doesn’t need to hear what Reyes-Moreno has to say about his mental or emotional problems. She nods and touches Max’s shoulder. With a terrified look at Sevillas, Max follows Georgia and the bailiff out of the courtroom.

  Langley smiles at Reyes-Moreno. “Now, Doctor, please tell the judge the purpose of the June 20 meeting and what you observed on that date with respect to the defendant.”

  Reyes-Moreno faces the judge. “I actually orchestrated the meeting. Everyone on the team had substantial…concerns…and I determined it would be productive to the patient for Ms. Parkman to meet with us.”

  “What ‘concerns’ are you referring to?”

  “As you mentioned, Max was experiencing increasing volatility, paranoid delusions and violent tendencies. The purpose of the meeting was to more thoroughly explain the basis for our collective diagnosis and to give Ms. Parkman an opportunity to question the entire team.”

  Langley smiles. “And what exactly was that diagnosis, Dr. Reyes-Moreno?”

  “Schizoaffective disorder and psychosis N.O.S.”

  “What does ‘psychosis N.O.S.’ mean?”

  “It means that the patient has experienced a break with reality—on at least one occasion—and the appellation in Max’s case was ‘not otherwise specified.’” She folds her hands. “It is a more general category, given his age and the observations we made during the short time he has been with us.”

  “Mr. Langley,” says the judge. “If there will be no more specific mention of the diagnosis, I would like to open the courtroom to the masses once again.”

  “Of course, Your Honor.” As the bailiff opens the door and the observers file in, Langley turns and shoots Sevillas a sly grin. When all are settled, he turns back to the witness. “Do you schedule such meetings with every parent after such a diagnosis is revealed?”

  “No,” the doctor says. “In this particular case, Ms. Parkman was unusually reactive. Despite my overtures, she refused to discuss the diagnosis further. I knew that Ms. Parkman’s adamant state of denial would negatively impact Max’s ability to ultimately come to terms with his disease. It is imperative, of course, that the parents of such a child fully support the medical team. If a parent refuses to accept the facts, they cannot help the child cope with the reality of the situation.”

  “Please tell us what happened during the conference.”

  “Certainly.” She speaks in a professional, yet caring voice. Her demeanor is one of ultimate credibility. The judge takes notes. It is clear that she takes Reyes-Moreno’s testimony seriously. “I began by telling Ms. Parkman that I understood her level of concern about the seriousness of Max’s diagnosis. I assu
red her that we had not come to our conclusions lightly and that all of our testing clearly indicated that the diagnosis was correct. At that point, Ms. Parkman became upset and told me that she would not accept our diagnosis, regardless of what our tests showed.”

  “What happened next?”

  Reyes-Moreno looks at the judge. “I informed Ms. Parkman that her refusal to accept the diagnosis was extremely detrimental to Max’s well-being and that she needed to face it for his sake. She continued to disagree vehemently.”

  “Was there any discussion of a second opinion?”

  “Absolutely,” she says. “I told her that she was welcome to have any professional she chose review our results. I urged her to do it quickly, however, given the gravity of the situation.”

  “And then?”

  “I informed Ms. Parkman that Max believed that Jonas was plotting to hurt him or kill him—”

  Sevillas stands. “Your Honor, this is dangerously close to violating the court’s order not to discuss Max Parkman’s diagnosis in public.”

  “Mr. Langley, I warned you not to cross the line.” She looks sharply at the D.A. “Proceed with caution.”

  He nods. “How did Ms. Parkman react to your telling her of Max’s fears?”

  Reyes-Moreno takes a deep breath. “She flew into a rage. She accused us not only of having fabricated his symptoms, but of falsifying entries we made into Max’s chart that clearly exhibited his violent behavior.”

  “What happened then?”

  The doctor shakes her head. “Ms. Parkman jumped up from the conference table, and it appeared that she intended to attack me. An orderly was forced to restrain her.”

  Langley smacks his lips, as if he has just polished off a crème brûlée. “Is this a common response?”

  She shakes her head sadly. “Not at all, I’m afraid.”

  “Go on, Doctor.”

  She clears her throat. “At that time, I felt it imperative that we calm Ms. Parkman down. I then attempted to convince her that we had no ‘secret agenda’ and that our diagnosis was based upon clinical facts and observations, with the conclusion that Max was clearly psychotic.”

  Sevillas leaps across the room. “Your Honor! This flies completely in the face of the Court’s order! Why did we bother to clear the courtroom? Counsel is flagrantly attempting to introduce details of that boy’s diagnosis in open court by sliding it in as a question to the witness!”

  “Sustained.”

  Sevillas’s face is flushed. “Your Honor, the defense requests that the District Attorney be cited with contempt for deliberately disobeying this court’s order.”

  The judge shakes her head. “You certainly deserve it, Mr. Langley. I will take the defense’s motion under advisement and will rule on it at the end of the day.”

  Langley gives the judge a short bow. “I apologize, Your Honor. I assure you, it was just a slip.”

  Sevillas curses under his breath. The damage is done. Langley will happily risk a contempt citation because he’s gotten exactly what he wanted. By this evening, every reporter in the courtroom will turn in copy about how Max is dangerously psychotic and was convinced that Jonas wanted to kill him. Sevillas is sure that it will hit the wires before the evening news. Even worse, any jury pool that might have kept an objective view of Max’s innocence will be tainted. If he doesn’t get a change of venue for the trial, Max will buy it for sure.

  Langley turns to the witness. “What was Ms. Parkman’s reaction to her son’s diagnosis?”

  “She became highly agitated. She accused me and the entire team of fabricating and doctoring Max’s entries solely for the purpose of substantiating our diagnosis.” She pauses for breath. “She then began cursing and demanding the release of her son.”

  “What was your response?”

  “I told Ms. Parkman that it would be extremely detrimental to Max’s treatment and his rapidly dissociative behavior to remove him from Maitland.”

  “What did Ms. Parkman say?”

  “To the best of my recollection, and please understand that I wrote these notes after our meeting, I believe she said: ‘Like hell, lady. By the time you people are through with me, I’d be foaming at the mouth and baying at the moon.’”

  “And then?”

  The doctor looks down at her notes. “Then she stood up and told me to get Max’s—excuse me for the language, Your Honor—‘fucking records’ copied and sent to her hotel immediately.”

  “Did she say anything else?”

  “Yes.” Her eyes are sad as she skims the piece of paper in her hand. “She said that she was planning to take Max out of our ‘execrable excuse for a hospital’—despite our insistence that this would harm Max—and told me that I better ‘fucking well’ send Max’s entire chart to her hotel immediately.”

  The judge looks at her. “Doctor, did you believe at that time that Ms. Parkman intended to leave the jurisdiction with her son?”

  “Yes, Judge, I must say that there was—and is—no question in my mind that, given the opportunity, Ms. Parkman would immediately leave Plano with Max and return to New York.”

  “And do you believe that Max Parkman would continue to suffer serious deterioration of his psychiatric condition if this occurred?”

  “I’m afraid so,” she finishes softly. “It is also my professional opinion that the violence he has exhibited will escalate.”

  Sevillas tries not to let his emotions show. Any chance Danielle had to stay out on bond after this highly credible testimony is now zero. Langley grins at Sevillas. “Pass the witness.”

  Sevillas moves as far away from Langley as he can and still be within hearing distance of the bailiff, who stands close to Max until the courtroom reconvenes.

  “Where’s Mom?” asks Max anxiously. “She should be here by now.”

  “She sent me a text message,” lies Georgia. “She’s coming just as fast as she can. Her plane was delayed a little.”

  Max gives her a wary look. “Where’s my iPhone? I can find out exactly where she is.”

  Max frowns and turns to Sevillas, who punches a speed dial on his cell phone—for the third time. He’s going to keep trying until he gets the son of a bitch. On the eighth ring, he hears the familiar gravel of Doaks’s voice. “Yeah?”

  “Where the hell are you?”

  “C’mon, Tony, grab your dick and take a deep breath,” he says. “I’m busy right now.”

  “Busy?” Sevillas snaps. “Doing what, for God’s sake?”

  “Look, I told you Danielle is on to somethin’ about that Marianne broad. She’s got some diaries that have all kinds of abuse shit in it, and not only that—”

  “Damn it, Doaks!” he says. “Do you have any idea how impossible it is for me to operate this way? How can I present a proper defense when the only fact witness Max has is his mother and she’s off somewhere taking a flier.” He pauses for breath. “And do you realize that Langley is ripping me a new asshole with every witness? Reyes-Moreno just leveled Max—and Danielle—on direct, and now I get to cross her without one single piece of Danielle’s so-called evidence. Even if you two are convinced that Marianne is the killer, I can’t even raise her behavior with Jonas because there’s no credible factual basis for it. Do you hear anything I’m saying?”

  “Listen, dickhead.” Doaks’s voice is red around the edges. “Let’s not forget whose brilliant idea it was to let the judge cram this hearing down our throats barely a week after the kid’s iced. I’ve been bustin’ my hump 24/7. I’m gonna yank your sorry ass out of the fire, but you gotta give me more time.”

  Langley comes down the hall. Sevillas turns the other way and lowers his voice to a hiss. “Listen, you geriatric piece of shit. You fly halfway across the country with Danielle on some half-assed hunch, and I’m supposed to completely change my whole M.O. for this defense? I’m sitting here with nothing—not even one of the goddamned defendants—thanks to you.”

  “Back off, Tony. You just have to trust her. Look, she
’s convinced she’s got more than enough to get Max off—and she ain’t no dummy.”

  “Christ, Doaks, I hope you’re right.” The anger melts from his voice, leaving an undercurrent of fear. “Just get her here as fast as you can.”

  “Tony, look, I gotta go. Barnes just got here.”

  “What does Barnes have to do with it?”

  “You don’t wanna know, and I ain’t gonna tell you.”

  Sevillas hears the bailiff’s cry. “How in the hell am I going to drag this out before Hempstead throws me in jail for contempt?”

  “For what?” asks Doaks.

  He sighs. “For lying to the court. I promised her Danielle was on the way.”

  Doaks chuckles. “Well, she is. You just keep that Morrison broad on the stand if she shows up,” says Doaks, “and we’ll fuckin’ cover you in evidence.”

  “And pigs will fly.” Sevillas snaps the phone shut.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Danielle checks her watch. They have made good time to Dallas and she is waiting to board the plane to Des Moines. If only she knew which witnesses have already taken the stand and how Sevillas has handled them. Her phone rings, and she grabs it. “Georgia? How is Max? Is he all right?”

  “God, Danielle, where are you?” There is a frantic note in her voice. “I’m in the ladies’ room. He’s okay—just scared and very anxious that you aren’t here yet.”

  “I’ve sent him text messages. Has he gotten any of them?”

  “No,” says Georgia. “I had to leave his cell phone in the car. He isn’t allowed to have it in the courtroom.”

  “Right. Well, my flight was delayed out of Phoenix and I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she says. “Who is on the stand? Has he kept Marianne off?”