“Isn’t it true, Doctor, that you murdered Meredith Costello?”
And there it was: The Question. Time stopped, as if God pressed “pause” for Alex Cutter’s universe. Every courtroom detail suddenly became ultra-sharp: the American and state flags to either side of the judge’s black robe, dirt coating the outside windows, the metallic, mold-tinged smell of air conditioning, the jurors’ eyes on him, the observers scattered throughout the viewing gallery. Alex’s breath caught. Two beats passed before time began creeping forward again.
How did I ever get to this point?
Tom Finder jumped to his feet, saying, “Objection, Your Honor.”
“Objection sustained. Mr. Diamond, you’ve been warned. I will not warn you again.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” the lawyer said solemnly in spite of flashing a smile at the jury, clearly having made his point.
The witness chair felt like concrete.
“Isn’t it true, Doctor, that you wrote Meredith Costello the Nembutal prescription?”
Alex thought back to the endless hours of trial preparation. Tom Finder drilled him repeatedly, approaching each point from as many angles as possible, probing for an inconsistency in answers. “We don’t want to be ambushed,” Finder had explained.
“Yes.”
Diamond nodded at the jury as if to say, “See?”
“And isn’t it true, Doctor, that she used this prescription to kill herself?”
“It’s possible. I don’t know that for a fact—”
“Doctor! Answer yes or no, please,” Diamond said, voice raised.
“No. That assumes—”
“Yes or no.”
Alex wanted to scream from the frustration and anger boiling inside. “He’s going to try to piss you off,” Finder had warned. “Don’t let him succeed.”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” Diamond’s voice was now laced with heavy sarcasm. “You don’t know?”
I’m going to lose. Tom Finder had been right to recommend a negotiated settlement. Why had he not followed that advice? Better yet, he should’ve followed Garrison’s advice and refused to operate the AVM. How many times had he criticized physicians for overestimating their abilities—flying planes, launching restaurants and other business ventures—and now here he was, having ignored the advice of his defense lawyer. Maybe he should talk to Tom during the next break and agree on a settlement. Would that work? Or did the shark now smell blood, whipping him into a feeding frenzy? Had he already lost any opportunity to negotiate a settlement? I’m fucked.
“No, I don’t know that. If the owner of a gun shop sells a customer a pistol, is he then responsible for any murder committed with that weapon?”
Diamond appeared furious. “I want that comment stricken from the record.”
“You did just fine,” Finder assured Alex during the break. “You didn’t let him rattle you, and you remained on point just like we practiced. It’s not pleasant being on the stand. I understand that.”
Just then, one of Tom’s partners passed him a note. Tom read it, smiled, and slipped it into his suit coat.
“What was your relationship with Meredith?” Finder asked Jenny Baker, Meredith’s sister.
“We were very close. Like all sisters are.” Baker sat with her spine straight. She wore what Alex considered, for lack of better words, a typical southern belle dress: white lace collar and fluted lace cuffs at the wrists. She wore a plain gold cross hanging from a modest gold chain around her neck.
“Does this mean you approved of her sexual persuasion?”
Her smile shriveled immediately as she glanced at Diamond. “Objection,” he yelled. “Irrelevant.”
“Objection sustained. Restate the question, please.”
Finder took his time ambling toward the jury to place his right hand on the dark oak railing. “What I’m asking is this: Did the fact she was a lesbian bother you?”
“Objection.”
Jenny Baker squirmed, eyes pleading for Diamond’s guidance. She fingered the gold cross around her neck.
“If it pleases the court, I’d like to explain,” Finder said to the judge, approaching the bench. The judge turned on the white-noise generator to block the jury from hearing their ensuing discussion.
“The relevance will become clear very soon, Your Honor.”
With a stern look, she said, “I sincerely hope so, Mr. Finder.”
“Ms. Baker, are you a Christian?” Finder asked.
She hesitated, perhaps looking for a trap in such a simple question, and began fingering the gold cross around her neck again. “Why, yes, of course,” she said, as if some things in life should be self-evident.
“I see. Where do you worship?”
She fidgeted a moment before clasping her hands primly on her lap. “Well … I worship every day, throughout the day. I constantly thank our Heavenly Father for his blessings.”
Finder leaned in on the jury rail, making eye contact with each juror while addressing Baker. “Yes, I understand that, Ms. Baker. What I am asking is this: Do you attend a specific church?”
He turned to her, her face the picture of innocence. “And what is the name of that church, please?”
Her rigid, prim posture straightened even further, a seemingly impossible feat. “A Christian church, sir.”
“I believe we just established that, ma’am. Please give the name and address of the church in question, Ms. Baker.”
Eyes straight ahead, she said, “Christ Our King Church on Poplar Avenue.”
Finder scanned the jury again. “I see. And is there anyone at this church from whom you receive spiritual guidance? A pastor, a church elder, someone you seek when needing support?”
She shrugged. “Pastor Gilliam, I suppose.”
“Pastor Gilliam,” Finder repeated. “Have you ever sought the advice of any of the church elders?”
“No,” she replied without hesitation.
“Be very careful here, Ms. Baker, and think. I ask you again: Is there anyone else in that church, especially among the church elders, from whom you’ve sought advice?”
She clasped her hands tightly together while considering her answer. “No.”
“Really? Isn’t it true Ms. Baker that Doctor Clarence Hill attends the same church?”
She momentarily froze.
“Your Honor, Mr. Finder is badgering the witness.”
“Answer the question, Ms. Baker,” the judge said.
“Well, yes, I guess he does.”
“And isn’t it true, Ms. Baker, that Doctor Hill is one of the church elders?”
“Yes.”
“And isn’t it also true that you spoke with Doctor Hill on multiple occasions about Meredith’s sexual persuasion?”
“Objection,” Diamond said.
“Overruled.”
“Isn’t it also true that you prayed with Doctor Hill for Meredith’s conversion to heterosexuality?”
“Objection!”
“Ms. Baker, haven’t you just testified that you and Doctor Clarence Hill talked about Meredith several times?”
“I guess we talked from time to time. After all, we attend the same church and are involved in several of the same activities. Bible study is one of them.”
“It’s more than that, isn’t it, Ms. Baker?” Finder stood at the defense table staring directly into her eyes, his voice assertive. Alex expected Diamond to object, but that didn’t happen.
“Well, I reckon I’ve sought his advice on spiritual matters from time to time.” She seemed to like that answer, because she added, “But that’s all.”
“Spiritual matters? You mean like suicide?”
“Objection!”
“Isn’t it true, Ms. Baker, that when you learned of Meredith’s death, you suspected your sister committed suicide?”
She glanced at her tightly clasped hands. “Yes.”
Finder nodded. “And isn’t it true, Ms. Baker, that you knew she was under Doctor Cutter’s care?”
“Yes.” Her eyes began to take on a defiant hardness.
“And isn’t it true that you knew that Doctor Cutter and Doctor Hill practice in the same group?”
Her defiance began to slump. “Yes, I guess that’s true.”
“And isn’t it true, Ms. Baker, that you are the sole beneficiary of Meredith’s life insurance policy?”
She was looking at her hands now instead of at the court. “Yes.”
“Speak up, please, ma’am, so the court can hear you.”
“Yes.” She glared directly into Finder’s eyes.
“Isn’t it true that you asked Doctor Hill to look at Meredith’s medical records to see if Doctor Cutter had prescribed the Nembutal?”