"Objection," Randolph said, "for the very reason cited."
"Sustained."
"You will also hear testimony," Tony continued with hardly a break, "that the known standard of care when a heart attack is suspected is to get the patient to the hospital immediately in order to initiate treatment. And when I say immediately, I'm not exaggerating because minutes, maybe seconds, count between life and death. You will hear testimony that despite my client's pleading to take his stricken wife to meet Dr. Bowman where she could be treated, Dr. Bowman insisted he make a house call. And why did he make the house call? You will hear testimony that it was important because if Patience Stanhope did not have a heart attack, even though from his own testimony you will hear that he suspected it, if she didn't, then he would be able to get to the symphony on time to drive up in his new red Porsche, walk in and be admired for his culture and for the young, attractive woman he had on his arm. And therein, my friends, lies – or lays, I'm never sure which – the medical negligence and malpractice. For in his own vanity, Dr. Bowman violated the standard of care that dictates a heart attack victim get to a treatment facility absolutely as soon as possible.
"Now, you will hear some different interpretation of these facts from the efforts of my more polished and experienced colleague. But I am confident that you people will see the truth as I believe the Massachusetts tribunal did when they heard this case and recommended it for trial."
"Objection!" Randolph called out, leaping to his feet. "And move to strike and request the court to admonish counsel. The tribunal's findings are not admissible: Beeler versus Downey, Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court."
"Sustained!" Judge Davidson snapped. "Defense counsel is correct, Mr. Fasano."
"I'm sorry, Your Honor, " Tony said. He stepped over to the plaintiff's table and took a paper offered by Ms. Relf. "I have here a copy of Massachusetts Laws, Chapter two thirty-one, section sixty B, saying the panel's findings and testimony before the panel are admissible."
"That was overturned by the case cited," Judge Davidson said. He looked down at the court reporter. "Remove the reference to the tribunal from the record."
"Yes, sir," the court reporter said.
Judge Davidson then engaged the jury. "You are directed to disregard Mr. Fasano's comment about the Massachusetts Tribunal, and you are instructed that it will play no role whatsoever in your responsibility as triers of fact. Am I understood?"
The jury all nodded sheepishly.
The judge glanced down at Tony. "Inexperience is not an excuse for not knowing the law. I trust there will be no more slipups of this sort, or I will be forced to declare a mistrial."
"I will try my best," Tony said. He returned to the podium slab-footed. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, then looked up at the jury. "I am confident, as I said, that you will see the truth and find that Dr. Bowman's negligence caused the death of my client's lovely wife. You will be then asked to award damages for the care, guidance, support, counsel, and companionship that Patience Stanhope would be providing today to my client if she had lived.
"So thank you for your attention, and I apologize to you as I did to the judge for my inexperience in this particular arena of law, and I look forward to addressing you again at the conclusion of the trial. Thank you."
Gathering his cards from the lectern, Tony retreated back to the plaintiff's table and immediately launched into a hushed but intense conversation with his assistant. He was flaunting the paper she had recently handed him.
With a sigh of relief that Tony had finished, Judge Davidson glanced at his watch before looking down at Randolph. "Does the defense counsel wish to make an opening statement at this juncture of the proceedings, or after the plaintiff's case in chief?"
"Most definitely now, Your Honor," Randolph replied.
"Very well, but first we will take a lunch recess." He smartly smacked the gavel. "Court's adjourned until one thirty. Jurors are instructed not to discuss the case with anyone or among themselves."
"All rise," the court officer called out like a town crier as the judge got to his feet.
3
Although most everyone else began to file out of the courtroom's gallery Alexis Stapleton Bowman did not move. She was watching her husband, who'd sunk back into his chair like a deflated balloon the moment the paneled door to the judge's chamber closed. Randolph was leaning over him and speaking in a hushed tone. He had a hand on Craig's shoulder. Randolph 's paralegal, Mark Cavendish, was standing on the other side of Craig, gathering up papers, a laptop, and other odds and ends, and slipping them into an open briefcase. Alexis had the impression Randolph was trying to talk Craig into something, and she debated whether to intervene or wait. For the moment, she decided that it was best to wait. Instead, she watched the plaintiff, Jordan Stanhope, come through the gate in the bar. His face was neutral, his demeanor aloof, his dress conservative and expensive. Alexis watched as he wordlessly found a young woman who matched his behavior and attire like two peas in a pod.
As a hospital-based psychologist, Alexis had been to numerous trials, testifying in various capacities although mostly as an expert witness. From her experience, she knew that they were anxious affairs for everyone, particularly for doctors being sued for malpractice, and especially for her husband, whom she knew was in a markedly vulnerable state. Craig's trial was the culmination of an especially difficult two years, and a lot was riding on the outcome. Thanks to her training and her ability to be objective, even about personal affairs, she knew Craig's vulnerabilities as well as his strengths. Unfortunately, in the current crisis she was aware that vulnerability trumped the strengths such that if he did not prevail in this very public questioning of his abilities as a doctor, she doubted he'd be able to pull together his life, which had splintered even prior to the lawsuit with a rather typical midlife crisis. Craig was first and foremost a doctor. His patients came first. She'd known that fact from the beginning of their relationship and had accepted it, even admired it, for she knew that being a doctor, particularly a good doctor, was in her estimation – and she had a lot of firsthand knowledge from working in a major hospital – one of the toughest, most demanding, and unrelenting jobs in the world.
The problem was that there was a good chance, at least on the first go-round, as Randolph had confided to her, that the case could be lost despite there having been no malpractice. In her heart of hearts, Alexis was sure of that from hearing the story and because she knew that Craig always put his patients first, even in those situations where it involved some inconvenience and even if it was three o'clock in the morning. In this instance, it was the double whammy of the malpractice claim and the midlife adjustment disorder that complicated the situation. The fact that they did occur together did not surprise Alexis. She hadn't seen many physicians in her practice, because seeking help, particularly psychological help, was generally not in the physician's nature. They were givers of care, not recipients. In this regard, Craig was a prime example. She had strongly suggested he seek therapy, especially considering his reaction to Leona's deposition and to the deposition of the plaintiff's experts, and she could have easily arranged it, but he had steadfastly refused. He'd even reacted angrily when she made the suggestion again a week later, when it was apparent he was becoming progressively more depressed.