by Adam Zorzi
“I needed to wait until she found someone else.”
Bella burst out laughing. Not her man-tingling laugh. A full-throated from the stomach out of her mouth laugh. “In what universe is that a rule?”
“I'm glad you think consideration for others is funny.”
“Oh, please. That's not consideration. That's martyrdom. I'll bet she was married within two years. What's your excuse for the last six?”
“Eighteen months, actually.”
“Really, this is none of my business. I'm your colleague on this case. I respect you. I don't want to make it personal.” She stood.
He reached up and took her hand. “I do. Bella, I want it to be personal with you.”
“I'm not available, Mark,” she said softly.
“You know there's something between us.”
“That doesn't make me more available. Get some rest. You need to bring your A game Monday.” She squeezed his hand. “I'll see myself out.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Bella sent Mark a text Sunday night.
Kick Ass.
He didn't respond. He seemed determined to prove he not only knew what he was doing, but could do it alone. Good for him. His spine was showing.
When she invisibly entered the courtroom after proceedings had started, Bella saw that the deputy attorney general was flanked by two associates and three clerks. Mark sat alone at the plaintiff's table. Judge King had called the court to order and the parties had given notice of their appearances for the record.
Mark spoke first. In eight minutes, he summarized the reasons the federal court had jurisdiction over the subject matter of the case and was able to grant the remedy that was requested. That's all the law required. Mark sat.
The deputy AG made a preliminary statement. An associate started a discourse on the history of jurisdiction. Judge King interrupted.
“We all know the requirements for jurisdiction. There's no need for a history lesson. Do you have anything else to add?”
“No, your honor,” said the young woman and sat down.
A second associate was up. He meandered around the question of whether the case met the requirements to be heard in federal court. He ended up repeating Mark's argument.
“You do realize, Mr. Bassett, that you just argued in favor of this court's jurisdiction.”
“I apologize, your honor. If it please the court…”
“It doesn't.”
The deputy AG attempted to make what they considered to be their primary argument. The federal court didn't have jurisdiction to award the remedy sought by the plaintiffs—$19 million dollars in damages to Evan Cooper's survivors plus $1 million dollars in punitive damages and the closing of Commonwealth Psychiatric Hospital.
“Who would order the closing of Commonwealth Psychiatric Hospital for multiple egregious civil rights violations if not a federal court, Mr. Deputy Attorney General?” Judge King asked.
Unprepared, he stammered it was up to the state legislature.
“I want to be certain I understand your position. A federal court cannot enforce federal civil rights?”
“Not entirely, Your Honor. In this case, there are budget considerations for the state. That's a matter for the state legislature.”
“Could you please explain what budget considerations you're referencing. There's nothing in your papers about budgets.”
“Your honor, that's an oversight.”
“Thank you. You may sit down.”
“I've read your papers thoroughly. Mr. Hoffman, I must say your legal memorandum in support of your motion was perhaps the best I've read in my fifteen years on the bench and persuasive. I find in favor of the plaintiff's motion to move forward with this case.”
“Notice of Appeal,” said the deputy AG.
“So noted. We'll have a scheduling conference next Monday at eleven o'clock. Any questions?
“No, your honor,” stated both Mark and the deputy AG.
“Adjourned.”
***
Bella waited and watched a handsome, confident Mark take a few questions from the media outside the courthouse. He answered succinctly and directly with a soupçon of humor. The gaggle of lawyers from the AG's office fled with no comment.
She got to the office midday. Opal was at lunch and Mark was eating a ham on rye sandwich at his desk when she got to the office.
“Congratulations,” she said and walked in with a genuine smile. “I saw you on the news at noon. Sounds like you kicked ass and more.”
He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “How did I look?” He teased.
“Confident.” She sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk. “Handsome. In fact, you were the most handsome man on the screen.”
Mark laughed. “Given that reporters are some of the most bedraggled people in Richmond, I'll still take that as a compliment.”
“What did you do to the AG's office? They scurried off like they were terrified of reporters.”
“I didn't do a thing. Judge King let them make fools of themselves and promptly ruled in our favor. They're appealing to the Fourth Circuit Court.”
“Of course. No doubt hoping some old boy will give them a break.”
“You can't let that go, can you?”
Without raising her voice, Bella made her point. “I'm not going to. You may forget how entrenched those old boys are in the legal system, but I don't. They have tendrils in every court. I expect their every move to be calculated to manipulate the outcome in their favor.”
He didn't respond. She hoped he recalled how they'd not only bugged his office, but sicced his father on him to drop the case just three days ago. He knew with certainty he was an outsider now, but Mark sometimes acted like a boy who couldn't quite believe he'd been unjustly expelled from the fraternity.
She let him finish eating before bringing up next steps. They'd had a victory this morning, but they had to remain vigilant and keep going at full throttle. “What's next?”
“Depositions.” He tossed his sandwich bag into the wastepaper can with a nice lob. “Opal has scheduled depositions for us for the next two weeks. You're getting former nurses from the hospital and some former patients. I've got former physicians and some former patients. One of us has to depose Larry Yarbrough, aka the Psycho Killer.”
She held up her hand. “Please, let's stick to Yarbrough. Psycho Killer dehumanizes him. Don't forget, he was a patient at the time of the murder. What's his mental status?”
“According to the warden at Red Onion, he's unavailable due to illness.”
“Red Onion. Is that a joke?” That name hadn't turned up in Bella's research.
“No, my dear New Yorker, that's the name of Virginia's maximum security prison.”
Bella knew how little the state valued its only forensic hospital. She wasn't going to pursue the status of its prison system. Red Onion? It sounded like a tavern. “I'm sure he's not getting any treatment. He's probably in solitary. They'd be afraid to allow him in the general population or the infirmary.”
“Correct on both counts. I just e-filed a motion to compel assessment, treatment, and deposition. Any evaluation in the transcripts of the murder trial is cold. We need a current assessment of his mental health. Something to support the state's culpability in Evan Cooper's death. One of our three psychiatric expert witnesses can assess him.”
“Two experts,” she said. “I just saw a notice of appearance for the defense filed by one of our experts on Opal's desk.” She expected anger. She saw only a flash of it quickly replaced with all business.
“One down. Whoever it was just disqualified himself from the case for either party.”
Mark stood and walked to sit next to Bella in the chair in front of his desk. He held a can of soda in his right hand.
“The best forensic psychiatrist is at Duke. He's our first choice and the AG has just handed him to us. We need to retain him immediately. I'll call him now and draft an agreement that Opal can overnight to him along with
Yarbrough's medical records from the trial transcript. “
Bella nodded. “There's very little there. Nothing at all upon his admission to Petersburg. Very little after his arrest and transfer to jail pending trial, the trial, and sentencing. All of it was physical info. Nothing about his mental health.”
“I'm sure our psych can read between the lines.”
Bella hoped Mark was right.
“Opal asked if we wanted bank statements from the hospital. What do you think?”
At least Mark was considering multiple moving parts. After he’d gotten over thinking the AG wasn't playing dirty, he thought more clearly and acted less impulsively. Good. Still, Bella didn't like Opal having to prompt him into action. He was such a work in progress, even a club girl hostess outpaced him.
“I don't think so. We don't need to prove corruption. We have the certified financial statements they filed. Let someone else follow that trail in the aftermath of its closing,” she said.
Mark high fived her. “I like that—its closing.”
She smiled one of her Bella smiles. “It does sound good.” It would happen. She'd make it happen. “No slacking, though. We need to keep this case tight. We can't pursue tangents. I'm sure the AG will try to send us on some useless excursions.”
“What if they try?” He sounded more collegial than pupil now.
“Ignore it. If it's in the form of a motion, we don't oppose. If it's a witness list, we don't object. They think you are working alone with a paralegal. They'll try to bury you in paper.”
“They don't know about my secret weapon.” He looked at her as he had Friday night.
“And they don't need to know.”
He was getting harder to resist. In just a month, he'd moved beyond following her suggestions to formulating good plans. He was unsurpassed in the courtroom. Add that to handsome and crinkly-eyed laughs and he was a nice package. No baggage. No ex-wife or kids.
She reached in her bag and placed a USB drive in his hand. She let her fingers linger longer than necessary when she touched his palm. Excitement surged through her in a way it hadn't in long time.
“My question list for patient depositions. They're tighter than the ones for hospital staff. Assuming the patients meet the criteria for answering questions under oath, they're still people who not only have a mental illness but endured a stay at Petersburg. I don't think we can expect full concentration for more than thirty minutes. More like twenty. Some will be nervous with a court reporter recording their answers. I want to ease in, get what we need, and ease out. We're the good guys.”
“That we are.” He looked like he was going to kiss her.
Opal interrupted. “You were awesome on the news at noon, Mark. What do I tell reporters wanting interviews?”
Bella let him take the question. It wouldn’t hurt. She just didn't want him spending precious time away from the case.
“I'm not available this week. I'll be in court next Monday at eleven. They can talk to me then.”
Bella turned to Opal. “Thanks for setting up the interviews. Great idea to pull their employment records. Anticipation is an excellent quality, and you have it.”
Opal almost blushed. “Not a problem.”
When she left, Mark asked Bella why she wasn't using the conference room in the office for depositions.
“A legal office will spook former employees and most former patients. They'll be more comfortable in modest hotel conference rooms.”
“If you decide you want the conference room here, you can have it.”
“Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow.” She picked up the personnel files Opal had left, slipped them in her bag, and stood to leave.
“A recap tonight at my place? We could catch the evening news and watch me again.”
Bella smiled. “Mark, I'm not setting foot in that monastery. Hire a decorator or a professional stager. Make a home for yourself.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Bella had just enough time to review the personnel file on the nurse she was to meet in the afternoon. She'd asked Opal to schedule the ones who had the longest employment history first. She quickly saw that the nurse scheduled for tomorrow morning would be the gem. She'd left for personal reasons after twenty-four years. She'd been paid to leave.
This afternoon's nurse was terminated due to a Reduction in Staff. She'd be interesting as well.
A chime sounded inside her bag. A text from Opal that this afternoon's appointment needed to reschedule later in the week. Bella had the afternoon off. She'd do some shopping.
***
Annette Tandy was an attractive woman in her mid-fifties. She arrived promptly Tuesday morning, accepted water, and had no questions before starting the deposition. She appeared at ease in the hotel conference room Bella had chosen. They sat across a polished table. The court reporter was across the room. Bella led Annette through the introductory questions to establish her identity, qualifications, and work history.
In response to Bella's question as to whether Ms. Tandy had ever witnessed violations of patients' civil rights to adequate medical and mental health treatment in a safe environment, she pulled out two stacks of paper dating back fifteen years. “I kept these,” she said, “in case anyone ever had the guts to take a hard look at that place.”
“What are these?” Bella asked. She couldn't use any of them as evidence because there was no way to authenticate them to judicial standards, but the contents could lead to exploration of specific incidents.
“Memos, at first. Then when I realized nothing was going to be done, I just wrote a summary at the end of my shifts.”
“Ms. Tandy, I'm going to ask you to walk me through various categories and I'll follow up after I've had a chance to read these. Do you mind if I take them with me?”
“No, I want you to keep them,” she said decisively.
Bella nodded in acknowledgement and launched into her questions. “Let's talk about a safe environment. In general, did you consider the conditions at Commonwealth Psychiatric to be safe for patients?”
“Absolutely not. Not for the patients or the staff.”
“Ms. Tandy, I can only discuss the patients. Could you give me a sense of why you considered the conditions generally unsafe?”
“Not a week went by without the patients beating each other up. Assault, rape, and attempted murder.”
Daniel. Daniel was there. Daniel had been vulnerable. Bella didn't allow herself to react. “Did this happen during any particular time or after a particular activity, such as meals or going outside?”
“No, it happened whenever a patient couldn't control his illness and acted out.”
“Why couldn't patients control their illnesses on such a regular basis?”
“They were under-medicated or given no medication. They weren't being treated. They were being warehoused.”
“That's a very strong statement. Were there segmented populations? According to whether patients were awaiting competency hearings versus serving sentences for NGRI? According to age? According to where they were in their treatment plan?”
“No separation of populations. Not one of those patients had a treatment plan. We just made notes of their behavior and a tentative diagnosis.”
“Who do you mean when you say we?”
“The nurses. Three per shift for 130 patients.”
“So the diagnoses could have been wrong?”
“Absolutely. They were wrong. I misdiagnosed patients myself. As I became more experienced, I could tell psychosis from bipolar, but I'm not a trained psychiatrist.”
“Patients with an incorrect diagnosis wouldn't receive the medication that would actually treat their condition. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“Without a diagnosis and treatment plan, patients were not given medication to relieve their symptoms and they acted out violently. Is that correct?”
“Yes.”
Bella knew it was bad, but she thought worse was to come.
“Of course, patients were under-medicated too. They were usually the victims.”
Bella reacted quickly. “Please strike the last statement by Ms. Tandy. We're off the record,” she said to the court reporter.
“Ms. Tandy, please wait for me to ask you a question for the record.”
“Sorry, I'm angry. I've been angry for thirty years. I'm finally getting to say something. We tried. So many of us tried, but we couldn't get anywhere. No one listened to us. They didn't care about us any more than they cared about the patients.”
“Would you like to take a break? Have more water? Anything else to drink?”
She shook her silver-haired head. Ms. Tandy was serious. She'd taken care with her appearance today. She wore a grey dress with matching jacket, a pink scarf, black low-heeled shoes. Her makeup was perfect as was her manicure. She wore only a wedding ring and a watch. In addition to the RN pin she wore on the lapel of her jacket, she wore a second pin that read “I'm a nurse. What's your super power?” She was proud to be a nurse.
“I like your pin,” Bella said.
Ms. Tandy smiled. “It is a super power. No one knows more about patients than nurses.”
“An underappreciated and underpaid profession,” Bella remarked.
“Thank you.”
“Ms. Tandy, are you ready to go back on the record?”
“Yes.”
Bella announced they were on the record and continued her safety questions. She'd then skip to why Ms. Tandy left.
“Ms. Tandy, without a proper diagnosis, were any patients over-medicated in your opinion?”
“Yes. Anyone who didn't speak English was immediately sedated. Young women were usually sedated. Elderly patients were always sedated.”
“So, the most vulnerable populations were over-medicated?”
“Correct.”
“Aside from misdiagnosis, improper treatment plans, and improper medication, were there any other conditions that you considered to be unsafe?”
“Yes. Repeatedly violent patients were restrained and put in seclusion. One patient I recall was in seclusion for twenty-nine out of thirty days each month. He'd make an appearance on census day. That's the day the patients were counted.”