“No!”
“Objection!” Jack shouted. “This is pure harassment.”
Gaines repositioned himself yet again, as if someone had pointed out the perfect spot in the courtroom for TV coverage. “Judge, we intend to show that the QT syndrome was caused by the victim’s own mother, who presents a classic case of Munchausen syndrome by proxy.”
“What?” said Jack.
“Her daughter presented to the ER nearly every two weeks before her second birthday. Mrs. Laramore shows a high level of understanding of her daughter’s medical condition. She has never left her daughter’s side since she’s been hospitalized. This is a psychology that thrives on the illness of children. The diuretics given to her daughter caused symptoms that fed the mother’s illness, but they also caused long-term heart problems for Celeste.”
“Judge,” said Jack, “it doesn’t matter how Celeste got long QT syndrome. The point is that it’s treatable and would not have resulted in a coma if BNN had not interfered with the transmission of vital information from the ambulance.”
“I’ll sustain the objection. Counsel, please approach the bench.”
Jack came forward, and Gaines stood with him at the judge’s bench.
“Mr. Swyteck, your objection is well founded because, yes, in a strict legal sense, you are right: It doesn’t matter how Celeste got long QT syndrome. The law says that a wrongdoer takes the victim as he finds her. I’m sure Mr. Gaines is well aware of that rule of law. But if these allegations of Munchausen syndrome by proxy are true, Mr. Swyteck, you need to settle this case. To be blunt about it, the sympathy value of your case has been neutralized. These are smart lawyers you’re up against. They are going to find a way to get this information before the jury if and when this case goes to trial. If not in the courtroom, it will definitely be in the media. And as much as I tell jurors not to read newspapers or watch TV, they do. This is the sort of thing they will hold against your case and your client.”
“I guess that’s why BNN wanted today’s hearing on television,” Jack said, unable to resist a swipe.
“That’s an outrageous accusation,” said Gaines.
“I won’t ascribe any motives to anyone,” said the judge. “I’m denying BNN’s motion to dismiss the case. But take my warning to heart, Mr. Swyteck. You’ve got serious problems.”
Jack turned away and glanced at Mrs. Laramore in the witness chair.
Don’t I know it.
“The witness may step down,” the judge announced. “We’re adjourned.”
Chapter Forty-Six
"I don’t want to talk about it.”
That was all Virginia Laramore said to Jack after the hearing before Judge Burrows. Jack was fine with it, at least until the handful of inquisitive reporters stopped trailing them out of the courthouse, down the granite steps, and to the parking lot. The media coverage wasn’t nearly as extensive as it had been for the Sydney Bennett hearing, but one reporter followed them all the way to the car, asking over and over, “Mrs. Laramore, did you abuse your daughter?” The question was met with silence, punctuated by Jack slamming the driver’s-side door.
Jack was behind the wheel and turning onto Flagler Street when his client finally opened up.
“Celeste was adopted.”
Jack hit the brake, then looked straight at her. “What?”
“All those medical records are from the time she was with her birth mother. Ben and I adopted her after HRS took her away and she was put in foster care.”
Jack pulled the car over to the curb and put it in PARK. It wasn’t easy to get tough with a woman whose daughter was in a coma, but Jack was losing patience. “Why didn’t you tell me that? And, for God’s sake, why didn’t you shove it in Ted Gaines’ face when he attacked you like that?”
“Because Ben and I have never told anyone outside the family that Celeste is adopted. And I’ve never even told Celeste that her birth mother was abusive. I wasn’t about to make that blowhard Ted Gaines the first person to hear it. Especially not on television. Celeste has already made enough headlines for his disgraceful client.”
Jack couldn’t disagree. “I’m sorry you had to go through that today,” he said.
“It’s the second worst thing I’ve ever had to deal with.”
Jack knew the first.
“Can we get back to the hospital, please? I want to be with Celeste.”
Jack put the car in gear and drove. Instinct told him that Mrs. Laramore would have preferred to ride in silence, but questions remained, and Jack was running out of time. He’d spoken to Ben Laramore about the visitation records from the women’s detention center and gotten no explanation. He needed to ask again.
“Why did Celeste visit Sydney Bennett in jail?”
Mrs. Laramore was looking out the side window. “I’m no more help than Ben on that one. We don’t know.”
“Why do you think she went? Your best guess.”
“No idea.”
“Celeste’s roommate told me that Celeste also visited Neil Goderich, Sydney’s first lawyer. We’ve searched through all Neil’s notes and can’t find a single record of their meeting.”
“Maybe it never happened.”
“Can you think of any reason why Celeste would have met with him?”
“A formality, maybe? She wanted to visit Sydney and needed to clear it with her lawyer. But that’s just a guess.”
It seemed like a reasonable guess. “But that still doesn’t tell us why she wanted to visit Sydney.”
“No,” Mrs. Laramore said as she massaged the bridge of her nose. “This is giving me a headache.”
“I’m sorry, but I have to press. This adoption news may be leading me down the wrong path, but it may be the answer to some of the questions I’ve been asking myself. Questions that started with those photographs of Celeste that Ben sent me.”
“What about them?”
Jack cut across traffic to take the expressway on-ramp. “There’s a definite transformation in Celeste’s appearance.”
“She grew up.”
“No, it’s not just the difference between being seventeen and being twenty. Sydney Bennett was arrested three years ago. That’s when her face first appeared on the news. There’s a vague resemblance between Celeste at age seventeen and Sydney when she was arrested. Over the next three years-as Sydney’s face was more and more on television-the resemblance gets stronger. Mostly due to the way Celeste started wearing her hair, how she wore her makeup.”
“Are you saying she was trying to look like Sydney?”
“Maybe I am.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Is it? I don’t mean to pry,” said Jack, “but if you’ve never told Celeste that her mother was abusive, you probably haven’t told her much at all about her. Is it possible that Celeste started to wonder?”
“She never asked me about her.”
“Did she ask Ben?”
“Not that he ever told me. But I honestly don’t see where you’re going with this. And could you please drive faster? I really want to get back to the hospital.”
Jack’s focus on the conversation had dropped his speed well below the limit. He took it up to sixty, which still left him in the slow lane on the busy westbound Dolphin Expressway. They were coming up on the exit for Jackson Memorial Hospital when the real question finally popped out of Jack’s mouth.
“Virginia, do you know who Celeste’s birth mother was?”
“No. Ben and I were never foster parents. We came into the picture after the birth mother’s rights were terminated and Celeste’s foster parents decided they couldn’t afford to adopt another child. I got medical information and such, and I think under Florida law I could have gotten the mother’s first name, if I’d wanted it. But the birth mother’s identity was just something I never really wanted to pursue.”
Jack turned at the Twelfth Street exit, and they stopped at the red light at the end of the ramp. The hospital where Celeste lay in a coma was in sight. Jack glanced at her adoptive mother.