“You’ll be sorry!” Machiavelli called after her.
Mary caught up with John. “That was him.”
“The alleged Machiavelli?” John scoffed, and they fell into step together. “I see that guy here. He’s the only lawyer left in Creation who carries a briefcase.”
Mary tried to smile but couldn’t. “You don’t think he knows why we’re here, do you?”
“Nah.” John led her to the escalator and they traveled upstairs. “The courthouse is only a year or two old, and it was designed with the judges’ help. You know what that means. The open space is pretty but the noise is worse because the voices echo off the walls, and this escalator switches direction later in the afternoon, which is always impossible to remember.”
Mary knew he was making small talk to calm her down. “Thanks for doing this. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. Don’t worry.” They traveled upward, passing a floor that held vending machines and round white tables with black chairs, which were beginning to fill up with children and their families, getting snacks and watching large-screen televisions mounted on the wall.
They rode up to one of the courtroom floors, and got off to find it buzzing with activity. Four courtrooms ringed the massive lobby, and mounted above the entrances were large flat-screen TVs in front of chairs fixed to the floor, almost like a movie theater. Almost every seat was filled with families talking, reading phones, or quieting children, who squirmed in the seats or wandered over to the floor-to-ceiling glass window, pressing their hands to its surface. Court personnel circulated among the crowd, easy to spot in their blue logo polo shirts and red lanyards, and lawyers conferred with clients, standing out because they were in suits.
“Look, there’s Abby and Susan.” John led her down the center aisle, and Mary noticed that other women lawyers were checking John out, flashing him smiles and giving him friendly waves.
Mary realized that John was evidently quite the hit with the women, though he hadn’t shared more about his personal life yesterday, so she didn’t know if he had a girlfriend, though everybody at the office speculated he had a crush on Anne.
John reached Abby and Susan at the closed entrance to the courtroom. “Abby, Susan, thanks for coming,” he said, shaking their hands, and they greeted each other.
“Hi, Mary! Hi, John!” Abby beamed, looking fresh in a print dress, still overburdened with bags.
“Hi, everyone. Nice to meet you in person, Mary.” Susan smiled, elegant in a tan linen pantsuit with a silk paisley scarf.
“You too. Thanks for the help.”
“Don’t worry, we got this.” Susan smiled.
“Hope so.” Mary didn’t say that Patrick’s future hung in the balance. She told herself to stay calm and she put Machiavelli out of her mind.
It was showtime.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Mary took a seat at counsel table next to Abby and John, unaccustomed to sitting in the third chair like a client instead of first chair like a lawyer. She eyed opposing counsel, Assistant City Solicitor Hannah Chan-Willig, who sat reading her notes at counsel table. Chan-Willig was a ponytailed Asian woman, dressed in black statement-glasses and a suit with a bold black-and-white geometric pattern.
Mary glanced around the courtroom, noting that Olivia Solo from DHS hadn’t arrived yet. The courtroom contained no gallery, since juvenile proceedings were confidential, and Susan sat behind counsel table, reading her phone. On the left side of the courtroom was a panel of windows, sending indirect light on a blue-patterned rug, and at the front stood a sleek wooden dais, flanked by a witness box on the left, and on the right, a desk for the administrative clerk, a heavyset man tapping away on a computer.
A phone rang on the clerk’s desk, and he answered it, then hung up and rose, signaling that court was about to begin. John, Abby, and Mary stood up, as did Hannah Chan-Willig, and about the same time, the door opened in the back of the courtroom. Mary turned around to see Olivia entering, with her overly made-up face, long ponytail, and a black dress that was too tight, and she was with two middle-aged men; one was tall and well-built with trimmed, dark hair, a nice suit, and an authoritative air, and the other was shorter, an odd-looking man in a boxy suit with flyaway graying hair, carrying a thick red accordion file.
Mary had no clue who the men were, but she hoped they weren’t witnesses because a surprise witness was never a good thing. If this had been a trial in Common Pleas or federal court, there would’ve been rules that prevented testimony by surprise witnesses, but there were no such rules for emergency shelter care hearings in Family Court. She remembered that John had told her that random people came to shelter care hearings, so maybe it was Olivia’s boss or another higher-up at DHS. Mary didn’t have time to ask John or Abby because the courtroom deputy was already rising.
“All rise for the Honorable Judge William R. Green. This Honorable Court is now in session!”
A pocket door opened, and Judge Green entered the courtroom. He was a short, African-American man who looked to be in his fifties, with warm brown eyes, chubby cheeks, and grayish patches throughout his short hair. He swept up the dais and looked around with a relaxed smile. “Good morning, people. Please, sit down, and let’s get started. This is a shelter care hearing in the matter of P.O.B.”
Everyone sat down except for Chan-Willig. “Your Honor, may it please the court, my name is Hannah Chan-Willig and I am here representing the Department of Human Services, DHS. I’d like to call my first witness, Detective Joseph Randolph.”
Judge Green nodded. “Proceed, Ms. Chan-Willig. Detective Randolph, please come forward.”
Mary looked over as the tall, authoritative man stood up, smoothed his striped tie, and strode to the stand, but she couldn’t understand what was going on. She hadn’t anticipated a detective being called as a witness, neither had Abby or John. She assumed it was in connection with the gun and she prayed that DHS wasn’t considering weapons charges against Patrick. She couldn’t catch Abby or John’s attention because they were both turned away, watching the detective be sworn in and sit down in the witness box.
Chan-Willig stood in front of the witness stand. “Detective Randolph, would you please identify yourself for the court?”
“I’m Detective Joseph Randolph, and I’ve been assigned to the Roundhouse, Philadelphia Police Headquarters, Sixth & Arch Streets, for the past twelve years.” Detective Randolph gazed directly at Chan-Willig, his eyes brown and set close together. “Before that I was a uniformed patrol officer with the Philadelphia Police Department.”
“Detective Randolph, have you ever testified in a shelter care hearing before?”
“No, I have not.”
“Detective Randolph, do you understand that the purpose of a shelter care hearing is to determine the guardianship of Patrick O’Brien, a ten-year-old boy who is presently in DHS custody?”
“Yes, I do understand that.”
Mary’s mind raced, watching from counsel table. She couldn’t imagine what Detective Randolph was going to testify about, but she was getting more and more worried. Still there was no basis to object to any of the questioning so far, and she could see that Judge Green was listening intently on the stand.
Chan-Willig stood straighter. “Detective Randolph, did there come a time when you were contacted in connection with this matter?”
“Yes.”
“And who was it who contacted you in connection with this matter?”
“Dr. Amit Chopra contacted me last night at approximately 9:15 P.M. Dr. Chopra is one of the assistant medical examiners for the City of Philadelphia. He called me at night because he had to leave for a conference this morning and wanted to reach me before he left.”
“Detective Randolph, why did Dr. Chopra contact you?”
“Dr. Chopra contacted me to tell me that the manner of Edward O’Brien’s death is considered suspicious and that Patrick should be investigated as involved in his death.”
Mary a
lmost gasped, shocked to her very foundations. She couldn’t believe what had just happened. It was a bombshell that would explode their case. There must have been some mistake. Edward’s death wasn’t suspicious. Patrick had nothing to do with his death. Edward had died in his sleep, and Patrick loved Edward. Patrick never would’ve done anything to hurt Edward, ever.
“Objection, Your Honor!” Abby and John said in unison, jumping to their feet.
Chan-Willig turned to Judge Green. “Your Honor, the question before this Court is whether DHS should retain physical custody of Patrick. There is absolutely no question that DHS should, given that the child may have been involved in the suspicious death of his grandfather. There is no possible reason for an objection.”
Abby faced Judge Green, flustered. “Your Honor, uh, we were given no notice of this witness or this fact. I’m the Child Advocate of Patrick O’Brien and I should’ve been told about this.”
John added, “Judge Green, my name is John Foxman and I represent Mary DiNunzio, who seeks guardianship of Patrick. We were not given notice of his witness, either. We object to the relevance and reliability of this testimony. What Dr. Chopra told the witness is rank hearsay.”
“My goodness.” Judge Green shook his head. “I’ve never before had a shelter care hearing in which the child involved was suspected of murder.” He turned to Abby. “Ms. Ortega, I’m going to deny your objection. You know that notice procedures are more informal in shelter care proceedings, especially emergency proceedings. Please take your seat.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.” Abby wilted into her chair, glancing over at Mary, who met her gaze with equal shock. They both knew that Detective Randolph’s testimony could be devastating to their case. Mary felt a bolt of fear that she was going to lose Patrick.
Judge Green turned to John. “Mr. Foxman, I decline to rule on your objection, since you have no standing to object to any testimony in this proceeding. I am aware that you filed papers on Ms. DiNunzio’s behalf and I did review them before I came on the bench. However, the Child Advocate is usually lead attorney in these matters, and Ms. Ortega is capable of handling any objections.”
John stood tall. “Thank you, Your Honor. But if it pleases the Court, Ms. Ortega and I have decided that because I am more familiar with the facts of Ms. DiNunzio’s case, I will take the lead in presenting Ms. DiNunzio’s case.”
“That’s not our procedure, Mr. Foxman, but at this moment, we have bigger fish to fry. As I have said, the procedural rules are informal in shelter care hearings, so I suppose if that’s the way you and Ms. Ortega want to proceed, I’ll grant your request. But I deny your objection for relevance and for hearsay. Our evidentiary rules are more relaxed in these proceedings, as well. Please sit down.” Judge Green turned to Chan-Willig. “Ms. Chan-Willig, continue your questioning.”
Chan-Willig faced the witness stand, where Detective Randolph sat unflustered. “Detective Randolph, what did Dr. Chopra tell you about his suspicions regarding the death of the grandfather Edward O’Brien?”
John rose. “Your Honor, I have a continuing objection to hearsay, for the record.”
Judge Green frowned. “Mr. Foxman, please don’t make me sorry that I agreed to this procedure. I’m going to deny your hearsay objection again, considering that the only cure would be bringing in Dr. Chopra himself to testify. That would turn a shelter care hearing into a murder trial, and I will not allow that.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.” John sat down, and Mary held her breath waiting for Detective Randolph’s answer. She was still trying to get over the fact that they had said the word murder in connection with Edward’s death. The word had a gravity all its own.
Chan-Willig said, “Detective Randolph, you may answer.”
Detective Randolph looked at Judge Green. “Your Honor, before I do, I assume my testimony today is confidential, since it involves an ongoing police investigation.”
Judge Green nodded. “Yes, Detective, these proceedings are non-public, and the records are sealed to protect the confidentiality of the minors involved.”
“Thank you.” Detective Randolph returned his attention to Chan-Willig. “Dr. Chopra performed the autopsy on Edward O’Brien and determined that Edward O’Brien had type 2 diabetes and that the cause of his death was hypoglycemia caused by an overdose of insulin, which eventually caused death. In addition, Dr. Chopra informed me that Mr. O’Brien most often injected himself in the abdomen, revealed by a physical examination of the body. However, Dr. Chopra observed that the most recent needlemark for insulin injection, that is, the injection that caused the death, had a point of entry on Mr. O’Brien’s right arm, and Mr. O’Brien had never injected himself there previously. That raised the question in Dr. Chopra’s mind that someone else had injected Edward O’Brien with insulin, causing his death.”
Chan-Willig asked, “Detective Randolph, what does the fact that the site hadn’t been previously used for insulin injection have to do with Patrick?”
“I’m in the preliminary stage of my investigation, but I have learned that Patrick was familiar with his grandfather’s diabetes and his grandfather’s routines regarding checking his blood sugar and injecting himself with insulin. Patrick also injected his grandfather with insulin from time to time, at his grandfather’s request.”
“Objection!” Mary found herself on her feet. “Your Honor, if Patrick injected Edward that night, he didn’t know it would harm his grandfather. There must have been some mistake, maybe Edward forgot he had already injected himself and asked Patrick—”
“Ms. DiNunzio!” Judge Green snapped his head around to face Mary, his dark eyes flaring. “Sit down. You’re out of order. I’ll entertain objections from Mr. Foxman but that’s as far as I’ll go.”
“Yes, Your Honor.” Mary sat down, agitated. She looked over at John, who shot her a warning glance. She could see the strain in his expression and read his mind. They both knew their case was in real trouble.
Judge Green straightened in his tall chair, then swiveled to face Chan-Willig. “Please proceed with your line of questioning.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.” Chan-Willig turned back to the witness. “Detective Randolph, let’s back up a minute. Is it your understanding that Patrick lived alone with his grandfather, Edward O’Brien?”
“Yes. Their residence was a house at 637 Moretone Street.”
“Detective Randolph, is it also your understanding that prior to his death, Edward O’Brien was Patrick’s sole caretaker?”
“Yes, that is my understanding.”
“Detective Randolph, do you know when Edward O’Brien passed away?”
“Dr. Chopra had difficulty determining time of death because there was such a significant delay in notifying police of the death. In addition, Dr. Chopra tells me that death from hypoglycemia can take several hours. His tentative finding is that the last insulin injection was given at about eleven o’clock on the night of October 8, last Thursday. Dr. Chopra tentatively places the time of death as anywhere between the hours of five o’clock in the morning and nine o’clock in the morning on Friday, October 9.”
“Detective Randolph, what did Dr. Chopra tell you about the status of his investigation?”
“Dr. Chopra told me that it was in its preliminary stages. He had finished his physical examination of the body, but he hadn’t filed an autopsy report yet. He called me to let me know that, at the present time, the manner of Edward O’Brien’s death was suspicious.”
“Detective Randolph, upon hearing that information, what did you do?”
“I began my own investigation.”
“Detective Randolph, what is the status of your investigation at this point?”
“It’s very preliminary, too. That’s what I wanted to explain to the court.” Detective Randolph looked over at Judge Green. “Your Honor, I only received this call from Dr. Chopra late last night. Dr. Chopra would be here himself, if he hadn’t had a previous commitment with the conference. This is not a m
urder case yet because Dr. Chopra has not officially determined that the manner of death was homicide. As you know, cause and manner of death are two different things.”
Judge Green shook his head, his expression grim. “No, I wasn’t aware of the difference. Please elaborate briefly, Detective Randolph. This is out of my wheelhouse.”
Detective Randolph nodded. “Your Honor, the cause of death is the way a person died, which in Edward O’Brien’s case was hypoglycemia. The manner of death is whether that death occurred by natural causes, accidental death, suicide, or homicide. Dr. Chopra has not yet determined that the manner of Edward O’Brien’s death was a homicide. Dr. Chopra is waiting to file his official report and release the body until he consults with the Chief Medical Examiner, who is away on vacation for another week. Dr. Chopra called me to give me the heads-up, and I called DHS. That’s when I learned that Patrick was in the Einstein Crisis Center and that this shelter care hearing was being held today. Then I called Assistant City Solicitor Ms. Chan-Willig, who asked me to testify. She also asked me if Dr. Chopra could testify, but he had already left for the conference.”
Judge Green nodded. “Now I understand. Thank you.”
Chan-Willig faced the witness stand. “Detective Randolph, did you interview Patrick in this case?”
“No, I have not.”
Mary blinked, surprised. She had no idea how Detective Randolph learned that Patrick sometimes injected Edward with insulin. John glanced over, and she could see that he was surprised, too. Either way, she feared that their case was circling the drain.
Chan-Willig asked, “Detective Randolph, how did you discover that Patrick knew how to inject his grandfather with insulin and did so sometimes?”
“I learned that from Cassandra Porter of the Philadelphia Children’s Alliance. She conducted a forensic interview of Patrick the day before Edward O’Brien died. She told me that Patrick told her that one of the ways in which he helped his grandfather was that he injected him with insulin when his hand was unsteady.”