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Authors: Frank Peretti

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BOOK: Piercing the Darkness
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ON MONDAY MORNING,
the day of the hearing in Westhaven, Pastor Mark Howard was thankful he’d arrived at the church earlier than everyone else. Hopefully he would be able to clean up the mess before any of the school kids saw it.

He’d already opened the school building and turned up the heat; so the facility was ready, and he still had about forty-five minutes before the parents started dropping off their children. He hurried down into the church basement, opened his office, and grabbed the telephone.

His voice was quiet and somber as he spoke, almost afraid of being heard. “Good morning, Marshall. This is Mark. Sorry to wake you up so early. Please come to the church right away. I’m going to be calling Ben, and I hope to have him here as well. Yes, right away. Thank you.”

He opened the utility closet under the stairs and grabbed a mop and bucket. He was so upset he forgot he would need a garbage can as well. With his heart racing, he ran upstairs and out onto the front porch of the church.

The blood on the front door was dry. It would take some scrubbing to get it off.

Oh! I’ve got to get the garbage can! No, not yet. I’d better wait until Marshall and Ben get here. I hope they get here before the children do. O Lord Jesus, we pray for the covering and protection of Your shed blood over this place!

Come on, guys, hurry up! I can’t leave these things here!

At Mark’s feet, crossed like an X and staining the church steps red, were two hind legs from an animal, most likely a goat.

 

AT NINE O’CLOCK
that morning, representatives of the press, the ACFA, the National Coalition on Education, and even a few churches
converged on Room 412 at the Federal Courthouse in Westhaven, the courtroom of the Honorable Emily R. Fletcher.

Wayne Corrigan and Tom Harris were already seated at the defendant’s table; Gordon Jefferson and Wendell Ames, Lucy Brandon’s attorneys, were seated and ready for combat, with Lucy seated between them. In the first row of the gallery, Dr. Mandanhi was waiting to testify.

KBZT Channel Seven News reporter Chad Davis was there, prowling about for any news tidbits or comments while Roberto Gutierrez set up the television camera.

John Ziegler was there as well, and Paula the photobug had already snapped some pictures—uninvited—of Tom and Corrigan.

The bailiff stood to her feet. “All rise.”

They all rose.

“Court is now in session, the Honorable Emily R. Fletcher presiding.”

The judge took her place behind the bench. “Thank you. Please be seated.”

They sat. So far everything was going the same as last time, and just like last time, the judge perched her reading glasses on her nose and looked over the documents before her.

“The defendant has requested today’s hearing to determine whether or not the child in this case, Amber Brandon, should be excused from any deposition or testimony. It is the court’s understanding that counsel for the plaintiff strenuously opposes any deposition or testimony from the child, and so the court has been asked to rule on the question.” She looked up and seemed just a little impatient with the whole matter. “Mr. Corrigan, please proceed.”

Corrigan rose. “Thank you, Your Honor. Our request is simple enough, and not at all irregular. The complaint against my client includes charges of harassment, discrimination, and outrageous religious behavior. But may I remind the court that thus far, any testimony pertaining to these charges has not come from the plaintiff’s key witness, Amber herself, but secondhand, through Amber’s mother, Lucy Brandon, and from the plaintiff’s expert witness, Dr. Mandanhi. We’ve made many requests to talk to Amber, to have our own psychologist visit with her so Dr. Mandanhi’s opinions can be balanced with those
of another expert witness. But counsel for the plaintiff has adamantly refused to cooperate, and we are concerned that my client’s right to confront his accuser is being infringed. Also, with no opportunity to question Amber and hear her testimony for ourselves, we have no assurance that the indirect testimony coming through Mrs. Brandon and through Dr. Mandanhi is not in some way colored, tainted, or embellished.

“Counsel for the plaintiff has insisted that Amber is in too delicate a condition, at too fragile an age to go through a deposition or a court trial. But we can assure counsel that we would not in any way resort to harsh tactics.

“Also, the record is clear that Amber is a strong-willed child and has stated conflicting facts, even to her mother. In addition to that, Amber’s mother has testified in deposition that there are other influences affecting Amber’s life which she was exposed to outside the school. Only Amber herself can answer the many unanswered questions that arise in these areas.

“All we’re asking is that we be allowed to hear the details from Amber herself, and that our own psychologist be allowed to examine Amber to verify or refute the findings of Dr. Mandanhi.”

Corrigan took his seat, and the judge recognized Wendell Ames.

Ames wasn’t quite as exciting to watch as the younger Jefferson, but he did exude a dignity of experience that was in itself persuasive. “Your Honor, this entire case is being brought to court because of severe damage done to an innocent child, the extent of which is clearly shown in the affidavits and the reports of Dr. Mandanhi. As attorneys for the plaintiff, we wish to right a wrong, to redress a grievance, and to somehow undo the harm that has been done. It was never our intention, as responsible human beings, to only increase Amber’s pain by putting her through the trial process, dredging up all her old wounds, and putting her hurts on public display.

“We have presented an additional opinion from Dr. Mandanhi, detailing for the court Amber’s current emotional condition and establishing that it would not be in her best interests to be made to testify or give a deposition. If the court so requires, Dr. Mandanhi is here to testify in person as to Amber’s fragile state of mind and emotions at this time.”

Judge Fletcher looked at Mandanhi and then at Ames. “Would the doctor have additional statements to make not included in his written opinion?”

“I’m sure he could clarify for the court any items the court may need clarified.”

The judge quickly perused Mandanhi’s report. “I think it’s clear enough. Any further oral testimony would most likely be cumulative.”

“Very well.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes. Even though there are strong arguments on either side, we would hope that common sense and decency will speak more loudly and persuasively than any argument, and that the court would spare this innocent child the pain and grief of reliving her hurts, of being challenged and doubted by the defense, of being put on display, as it were, in open court.

“We understand the legal process, of course. We understand that the defendant does have a right to confront his accuser. But we remind the court that we are dealing with a case of child abuse, a fact the defendants have already admitted.”

“Objection,” said Corrigan. “The defense has made no such admission.”

Ames responded, “Your Honor, I was simply referring to what has already been established, that spanking does occur at the school, and that the school does teach pervasive and imposing doctrines . . .”

The judge was a little impatient. “The affidavits are clear on what the school practices and teaches, Mr. Ames. If the defendants want to stand by their practices, this in no way constitutes an admission of guilt. The objection is sustained.”

Ames regathered his thoughts and continued. “At any rate, Your Honor, we hold that Amber is a child of tender years who needs to be protected. That is, after all, the motivation behind this suit in the first place. Given that, we must plead that the court spare Amber any further pain and trauma by ruling that she need not be deposed and she need not testify, or go through any more grueling examination by still another psychologist.”

Ames sat down.

The judge looked at Corrigan. “Anything else?”

Corrigan stood. “I suppose it might be effective to point out why I don’t have anything else I can say. If, as the plaintiff argues, Amber Brandon is in such a pitiful state of mind and emotion that she simply must not be allowed to testify or participate in the trial, we are left with having to take counsel’s word for it, with no way of knowing how true these claims are. Amber could actually be in this bad a condition, but we could never confirm that. The plaintiff might be conducting a clever, purposeful cover-up, but we could never know that either. Counselors for the plaintiff obviously think they know all they need to know about Amber and what she allegedly went through at the hands of the defendants, but the defendants and their counsel know virtually nothing apart from the filtered hearsay provided thus far. Without Amber we are being restricted, expected to present a persuasive defense, but forbidden to cut through to the real heart of the matter, to the real source of these complaints. I repeat again, we do not want to hurt Amber in any way or add to her trauma—if there be any trauma. We simply want to get to the facts so we can prepare to answer the charges. You have our brief as to the law which shows that Amber must be made available.”

Corrigan sat down, and the judge looked at Ames and Jefferson. “Anything else?”

“No, Your Honor,” said Ames.

“Court will recess, then, and reconvene at 2 this afternoon for my ruling.”

“All rise,” said the bailiff, and they all rose, and out went the judge.

Tom whispered to Corrigan, “How do you think we did?”

Corrigan wasn’t very happy. “I have no idea. I think that’s the weakest argument I’ve ever presented for anything.” He fretted, fumed, replayed the hearing in his mind. “I should have stressed the law more; it’s supposed to be on our side . . . Did you see her reaction to Mandanhi’s affidavit? She took it as gospel!”

“How about some lunch?” Tom asked.

Corrigan followed him out of the courtroom, still muttering to himself.

CHAPTER 32

 

THE SPIRITS WERE
aloft and rampant, goaded on by goat’s blood and blasphemy, by rage and conspiracy, by Destroyer’s reckless indignation and thirst for immediate victory over the subtle Captain of the Host and his prize, the elusive Sally Beth Roe.

Infested by lying demons, the Warings (Ed and Judy) and the Jessups (Andrea and Wes) were meeting for lunch at the Warings’ home to prayerfully discuss the latest news hot off the prayer chain: June Walroth had just heard that Tom regularly beat his daughter Ruth, and always dressed her in long sleeves so no one would notice; someone else—they didn’t know who, but the person had to be reliable—was concerned because Pastor Mark and Cathy were having some marital problems, most likely because Mark had been unfaithful years ago; the Christian school was actually in terrible debt because Tom and Mrs. Fields were pilfering some of the money.

Andrea was aghast. “Are you sure about that? I can’t believe Mrs. Fields would do such a thing.”

“Well,” said Judy, “do you know how little money she makes teaching at that school? It would be a real temptation, let’s face it.”

“But who told you about this?”

Ed was reluctant to reveal their source. “It’s . . . Well, let me just say that it’s someone close to the church board, someone I’ve really come to respect, all right? But this is all in strict confidence!”

Wes was immediately angry. “So why hasn’t the board told the rest of the church?”

“The party I spoke to is concerned about the same thing. She’s in a real fix: she doesn’t want to violate the confidence of the board, but at the same time she’s hurt because so much of this is being kept secret.”

Judy piped in, “I think we need to have a congregational meeting, that’s what I think!”

Andrea concurred. “And get this stuff out in the open once and for all!”

Ed nodded. “Well, I’ve talked to Ted and June Walroth, and they’re ready for one.”

Wes just shook his head and even laughed to vent his nerves. “This is all going to come out in that trial, you know. Somehow those ACFA guys are going to dig this up, and they’re going to sue the ever-loving buns off our church!”

BOOK: Piercing the Darkness
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