Absolute Power (Southern Justice #1 (22 page)

“Councilor, I will not have you objecting over every word which does not tickle your behind. We all know your client has plead not guilty in his preliminary trial, which is why were are here,” Judge Randolph countered, after tossing his gavel on its side.

“Continue, Mr. Prosecutor.”

“Thank you, your Honor.” Jessup bowed his head in reverence. “Miss Stuart, it is your testimony you were one of the examining professionals the night of April seventeenth, this year, at University Hospital. Is this correct?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Miss Stuart, in your own words, please describe for us the events which took place when the defendant was brought into your place of employment.”

Claire looked at her lap for the briefest of moments, pulled her shoulders back and began her story.

“When we received word of an incoming patient over the response radio, Dr. Gillman, the attending physician on duty, informed me we had a possible sexual assault case. He wanted me to do the initial assessment as there was also a male patient coming in as well who had unknown injuries.”

Claire kept her eyes trained on Mr. Jessup, speaking slow and clear. I found myself watching her lips as she spoke every word.

“When we opened the doors to the trauma bay, Dr. Gillman instructed the ambulance drivers and attendants to secure the three injured patients in particular rooms, separate from each other.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but did I hear you correctly? There were three victims in one ambulance?” Jessup seemed surprised by Claire’s admission; although I remembered the ride over slightly different.

“Yes, Sir. By the manner in which Mr. Greyson was acting during his stay in the ER, I’m glad Detective Morgan was there during the ride over.”

“So, is the court to believe, the victim
and
the attacker were transported in the same ambulance?”

“Yes Sir. I was shocked about this myself.” Her hand rested on her white, blouse-covered chest. “I rushed to get the victim inside a secure room so the exam could begin. However, just as I finished, a loud commotion could be heard from outside the door. I assured my patient no harm would come to her and went to get Dr. Gillman.”

“And what did you find once you left the room?”

Claire’s eyes, full of compassion and loyalty, locked with mine. “Detective Morgan was instructing the man, who I then learned was Mr. Greyson, to let the staff take care of looking him over.”

“And did Mr. Greyson comply with this order?”

Claire shook her head, and answered, “No Sir. He shouted some derogatory words, ones I am too much of a lady to repeat, then demanded to be let out of the bed and room.”

“And was that the last interaction you had with the defendant that particular evening?”

“Yes, Sir. His wishes were granted and the officers took him away.”

“Thank you, Miss Stuart. No further questions, your Honor.”

Jessup nodded his head in the Judge’s direction as he resumed his seat in front of us. Anderson pushed his chair back, stood, and began his questioning.

“Miss Claire, you will have to forgive me, but I just can’t wrap my mind around something you said.”

“Miss Stuart,” Claire countered; her face stoic, voice monotone.

Anderson stopped his pacing and turned in her direction. “Beg pardon?” He asked for clarification.

“It’s Miss Stuart. You said my first name. I would prefer you to use decorum, Sir.”

What was more surprising than the set of balls Claire had grown, was the elbow nudging my dad was doing into my left side.

“She has spunk, just like your momma.”

I was fairly certain my dad meant to say those words in a hushed voice, his comment for my ears only. However, Jessup turned around, winked, and then smacked my knee with the back of his right hand; confirmation dad was louder than he intended to be.

“Very well, Miss
Stuart
… I find it difficult to believe that the great State of South Carolina would allow
just
a nurse to obtain valuable DNA. You’ve never been to medical school or had the proper training to perform such delicate exams.”

“Well, Sir, I’ve never been to Culinary School either, but I can still make Shrimp and Grits for Sunday dinner.”

“Your Honor!” Anderson shouted, pointing at Claire.

As much as Judge Randolph enjoyed Claire’s clever comeback, as was evident by the smile he was biting his lips to hold in, he still maintained his position. “Miss Stuart, if you can keep your answers to only those asked.” He finished his reprimand with a wink, and then turned to Anderson. “Councilor, I will warn you to watch your professionalism. My sister-in-law is a nurse in the same hospital as Miss Stuart. Nurses are vital parts of the medical community and deserve our respect as such.”

I would have to send Judge Randolph a bottle of Granddaddy’s Scotch when this was over.

The truth may sometimes hurt for a moment, but a lie will hurt forever.

-Anonymous

It was a good thing we as “just nurses” took an oath of confidentiality. Corbin Anderson might stand before the court system and brag about being a seeker of truth and justice, but behind closed doors where there was no judge and jury, only shots of Penicillin to cure the burning and dripping he’d had from the multitude of prostitutes he frequented.

When he came in, he always asked for Joey. Apparently, he wanted to boast to him about the fine pussy he’d had for getting her or her relative out of jail. It was disgusting, using his position to prey on others’ misfortunes. It was my belief there was a special place in hell for men like Corbin Anderson.

“My apologies, Miss Stuart, Your Honor.”

I knew a Connie Randolph; a great nurse who worked with the newborns. Although, there was no way to know if she was his sister-in-law. He could be in reference to his wife’s sister.

“Miss Stuart, from your findings, was the alleged victim in this case, sexually assaulted?”

Mr. Jessup had cautioned me earlier that Anderson was famous for twisting words to suit him. “There was no evidence of ejaculation in the vaginal cavity.”

“So, you’re saying there was no sexual assault?” His eyes glinted, dark and evil, like a serpent that waited in the shadows, ready to strike.

“On the contrary, sexual assault is not limited to penetration. It includes forced kissing and groping. By the cuts and bruises found on my patient, an attack had occurred.”

I would not allow him to frighten me or cause me to say something Jessup would have to fix by having Lainie testify. He’d sworn to her, placing her on the stand would be his last resort.

“Yet you, by your own admission, tell us there was no semen found on the victim.”

“Objection,” Jessup interceded. “Miss Stuart has already clarified she found no evidence of vaginal penetration, yet evidence of other injuries on the body and face of the victim.”

“Sustained.”

Anderson rubbed his chin as he carefully considered his next question. I followed him around the room with my eyes, as I would any reptile I wished to avoid.

“Miss Stuart, had you ever met the victim prior to April seventeenth?”

“No, Sir.”

“No? Yet according to witnesses, you waited until the alleged victim was released from care at your place of employment to take her to your home, where she stayed until a short time ago.”

“Objection, relevance?”

“Your Honor, I’m trying to establish that Miss Stuart is not as honest and forthcoming as she has led us to believe. Who, in their right mind, invites a complete stranger to their home?”

“Councilor, need I remind you Miss Stuart is not on trial. Redirect your question or withdraw it completely.”

“I’ll withdraw the question. I have nothing further for this witness.”

I glanced over to Dylan, his face was red with what I assumed was anger, most likely directed at me and the mess I’d caused. I was grateful Anderson didn’t ask me if I had treated Dylan for any injuries. I refused to lie, they only return to haunt you.

Once I was granted permission to leave, I rejoined Lainie. She was trembling and on the verge of tears. I could’ve scratched Anderson’s eyes out for all the damage he’d caused.

“Mr. Jessup, call your next witness.”

“The State calls, Dr. William Gillman.”

As drop dead gorgeous as he could be dressed in a lab coat and scrubs, nothing compared to the man in a tailor made suit. I briefly considered taking a quick picture of him and sending it to Kitty, until I remembered my phone was locked in my car. A large sign displayed as I walked from the parking lot into lobby, advised no electronics or purses could be carried into the building.

Dr. Gillman possessed a personality, which complemented his well-equipped exterior. His ability to go from speaking with a sixteen year old street kid, using the lingo they had like a pro, to kissing the hand of a Southern Lady as depicted in their youth, made him a fantastic physician.

Kitty had confided in me how he’d shown up at her front door one afternoon when she had to call out sick. Her eyes lit up as she retold how he’d made her a care package of everything chocolate, as her period had been extremely painful. He’d sat with her, and rubbed her lower back, distracting her with tales from his youth.

“You know, that man and few others in this room give me hope in the male species,” Lainie spoke from beside me. Her trembling had stopped once I had reclaimed my seat next to her.

“I, William Parker Gillman, do solemnly swear…” He repeated the same oath we all had. Somehow, his black-rimmed glasses made the mundane, extraordinary. Hell, the man could read the phone book and I would listen in earnest, as long as he wore those glasses.

“Dr. Gillman, you understand you have been called here today for your expertise on the subject of DNA, as well as your role as the physician present the night in question?” Judge Randolph reviewed; an air of respect in his manner.

“Yes, Your Honor.” Dr. Gillman straightened his tie and scanned the room until his eyes landed on mine. He graced me with a wink; a move I’d file away for another, more intimate occasion.

“For the record, Dr. Gillman, would you please share your qualifications in DNA science?”

“Of course.” He adjusted his glasses, and then placed his hands in his lap. “I graduated in the top three percentile from Notre Dame University and attended medical school at the University of Michigan. I then began a fellowship in DNA research under the supervision of Dr. Floyd Bremer. I transferred to University Hospital here in Charleston after his sudden death.”

Dr. Floyd Bremer was considered the single most authority in DNA studies. Three years ago, he went in for a routine procedure and his heart stopped on the operating table. His doctor was unable to revive him. The entire medical community mourned his loss.

“The Prosecution may begin,” Judge Randolph permitted, scribbling on the note pad on his desk.

“Dr. Gillman, on the night of April seventeenth, you were on staff when the victim and the accused were transported in by ambulance. In your own words, describe the events as you saw them.” Mr. Jessup did not rise from his chair as he made his request. Judge Randolph didn’t call him out for it either.

“We were in the middle of our shift. The patient load had been minimal. As Miss Stuart stated, we received a call over the rescue phone from the paramedics who were on their way. I asked her to get the trauma room ready for a sexual assault. Once the ambulance pulled up, I took over the care of the man who was handcuffed and, I presumed, under arrest. Since Miss Stuart was in the middle of obtaining samples and photographing any abnormalities she found with her patient, I had one of the other nurses assist me. However, before I could do any assessments on the man, he refused care and demanded to be released. Detective Morgan instructed the uniformed officers, who were present in the room, to take him to jail.”

Dr. Gillman paused, as he seemed to consider something. I was not the only one to notice his features distort in thought.

“Dr. Gillman, is something wrong?” Mr. Jessup questioned in genuine concern.

“Yes, I’m sorry.” He blinked, coming to his senses. “I was just recalling the manner in which Mr. Greyson left the hospital and his declaration of disdain for Nurse Stuart.”