“If the people in this courtroom are representative of the general population, which is not something we can know with any degree of certainty, that would be correct, yes.”
“And how likely is it, Dr. Baer, that any of those seven people are going to leave here today and go out and murder someone?”
“I couldn’t say.”
“Well, do you consider it likely?”
“No.”
“It is, in fact, extremely unlikely, is it not?”
“I suppose so, yes.”
“Now then,” Freyer said, “let’s turn to your testimony that Kwame Diggs is also bipolar. Are bipolar patients typically dangerous?”
“No.”
“Are they more likely than the average person to commit violent crimes?”
“I am aware of no evidence that they are.” Again with the bow tie.
“Can bipolar disorder be controlled with medication?”
“In most cases, yes.”
“Is my client currently taking such medication?”
“He is now, on my recommendation.”
“Has his condition improved since he began taking the medication?”
“I have no firsthand knowledge of this.”
“Have you spoken to the Corrections Department medical staff about how he is doing on the medication?”
“I have.”
“And what have they told you?”
“Objection. Hearsay,” Roberts bellowed.
“Must I remind you, Mr. Roberts, that this is not a criminal trial?” the judge said. “Objection overruled. The witness may answer.”
“They say that he is improving.”
“Is there any reason to believe that Kwame Diggs would not continue to do well if he is released?”
“That depends on whether he continues to take his medication.”
“Do you have any reason to believe that he wouldn’t?”
“No, but I have no reason to believe that he would, either.”
“So you can’t be sure either way.”
“That is correct.”
“Your Honor,” Freyer said, “I have no further questions at this time.”
“Mr. Roberts,” Judge Needham said, “would you care to reexamine?”
“Yes, Your Honor.” He rose and approached the witness.
“And Mr. Roberts?” the judge said. “Please refrain from that infernal pacing.”
“I’ll try, Your Honor. Dr. Baer, you testified that patients suffering from antisocial personality disorder are deceitful, manipulative, and incapable of remorse, is that correct?”
“It is.”
“So when Mr. Diggs expressed remorse for his crimes, he was probably lying, isn’t that correct?”
“He may have been. There is no way to be sure.”
“And if he promises to continue his medication for bipolar disorder, that could also be a lie, isn’t that right?”
“It could be, yes.”
“Can his antisocial personality disorder also be controlled with medication?”
“There are no medications available to treat that condition.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Roberts said, and returned to his seat.
Visibly relieved, Dr. Baer rose and stepped from the witness chair.
“One moment, Doctor,” Judge Needham said. “I have a few questions of my own.”
“Yes, Your Honor,” the psychiatrist said. He sighed audibly and settled back into the witness chair.
“If Kwame Diggs were to be released from custody, do you think he would immediately seek to commit another murder?”
“It is conceivable that he would do so.”
“Doctor, it is conceivable that any of us might do so. What I need to know is how likely it is.”
Again with the bow tie.
“If you are asking me to give you odds,” the witness said, “I cannot provide a medical answer.”
“You’re saying you don’t know?”
“That is correct.”
“I have nothing further,” Judge Needham said. “The witness is excused. Mr. Roberts, would you like to be heard at this time?”
“Yes, Your Honor,” he said, rising to address the court. “The State has presented incontrovertible medical evidence that Kwame Diggs is suffering from not one but two serious mental disorders. Our expert witness has testified that if he were ever to be released, he would pose a danger to himself and others. We ask the court to order that he be remanded to a secure mental hospital once his current sentence for assaulting a prison guard expires-or in the event that said sentence should be vacated. The State asks that he remain confined until such time as his condition no longer poses a risk to himself and to the people of Rhode Island.”
“Miss Freyer?” the judge said.
“Your Honor, the State has failed to meet its burden to prove that Kwame Diggs poses an immediate threat to himself or others. We ask that the State’s request be denied.”
Needham swiveled in his chair and faced the TV pool camera, a troubled expression on his face.
“The court is mindful of the horrific nature of the crimes for which Kwame Diggs was convicted,” he said. “I am also aware that the prospect of his release has produced an atmosphere of fear and anger such as I have never seen in my twenty years on the bench. As a grandfather of six, five of them girls, I understand those emotions, and to a degree I share them. However, the court must follow the law without respect to the vagaries of public opinion.”
As the judge paused for a deep breath, Mulligan noticed that a woman in one of the spectator benches was surreptitiously thumbing a text message on her smartphone.
“The evidence is clear that Kwame Diggs is suffering from two serious mental disabilities,” the judge continued. “What is not clear is the degree to which his release would pose an imminent danger, and that is the standard on which this case must be decided. I shall require a day or two to study the evidence and review the case law again before making my decision. I ask for your patience… and your prayers.
“Meanwhile, I have been informed by the bailiff that a large and disorderly crowd has formed on the courthouse steps. In the interest of safety, I urge the attorneys and the witness to exit the building through the north-side door, where you will be provided with a police escort to your vehicles. Spectators and members of the press who wish to avoid the tumult are also invited to depart by the side door.
“This court is adjourned.”
Mulligan shoved through the front door of the courthouse and found a skirmish line of uniformed Providence cops standing on the front step. They were edgy this time. Five of them had drawn batons from their Sam Browne belts and were slapping the shafts against their palms.
Standing behind Chief Angelo Ricci, Mulligan did a rough count. About nine hundred, he figured, many of them waving protest signs and all of them looking angry. They spilled down the steps, onto the sidewalk, and out into Benefit Street, where they were obstructing traffic.
A half-dozen TV reporters, accompanied by cameramen, were working the crowd, shoving their microphones into the faces of protesters for quotes that would pad their evening reports. Mulligan looked around for Gloria. He knew she was out there somewhere, snapping pictures.
At the curb across the street, Iggy Rock was broadcasting live from the back of WTOP’s mobile van, his words lashing the crowd from a pair of loudspeakers.
“According to our source inside the courtroom, Judge Needham claims he needs, and I quote, some time, unquote, to make his ruling,” Iggy was saying. The source, Mulligan figured, was the woman he’d seen texting. “He needs time?” Iggy snarled. “Really? What for? Time to get out of town before he sets a monster loose to prey on our wives, sisters, and daughters?”
The crowd hooted and shook their signs.
“Because that’s what he’s going to do,” Iggy shouted. “He telegraphed his decision by what he said at the conclusion of the hearing. He said, and again I quote, ‘What is not clear is the degree to which his release would pose an imminent danger, and that is the standard on which this case must be decided.’”