Killing The Blood Cleaner (13 page)

“I see. So it wouldn’t surprise you if she was deeply involved in the drug business?” the lawyer asked.

“Not really. She may have been trying to keep a low profile by living in a trailer and driving an inexpensive truck, but you would have a hard time owning the stuff I saw on a County salary. But I’m a doctor, not a detective. She was pretty and fun and we were having a good time. I didn’t see any need to investigate her life,” Jack said.

“Son, I think we both know that Cindy was very much involved in drug smuggling. She was in way over her head. Recently, she had become an informant. She wanted to get out, but she was scared and cocky at the same time. She really didn’t think the Sheriff could figure her out and she was real cagy with us as to her deal. And it came down to last night. She was finally going to give me the evidence I needed to pull down the Sheriff. If she could do that she would get full immunity. On top of that, there would have been a little winking by the government about the money she had piled up for herself. She told me it was all on a thumb drive she was supposed to deliver last night. But that never happened, and she ended up out here somehow. The people that did this still want that little piece of plastic and they want Cindy dead,” Davis said.

“What do you mean … people that did this? My car went off the road because of a deer, didn’t it?” Jack said.

“That is certainly the appearance. But you and the deer may not be the only actors in this play. Maybe Cindy can help us out, if she can talk,” Davis continued as they returned to the car.

It took them about twenty minutes to reach the Glynn County Hospital in Brunswick. Once inside, Jack felt more in his comfort zone as he walked past orderlies and nurses and into the waiting area of the ICU.

“We are here to see Cindy Jessup,” Davis said with authority to the nurse at the glass-enclosed counter. Jack started to explain he was a doctor, but thought the better of it when Davis gave him a stern look.

“She is still unconscious, and you can go inside. But you should speak to the officer outside her door first,” the nurse said, pointing to the entrance door to the ICU. Jack and Davis pushed through the door and saw a uniformed officer seated in a chair beside the door to the brightly lit, glass encased ICU unit.

“They are guarding her?” Jack asked, eyeing the officer.

“This is not a guard. He is a friend,” Davis replied, as he stretched out his hand to the officer. “Jason, I’m glad you could make it over so quickly from the prison,” Davis said as he shook the officer’s hand.

“I am always ready to watch over Cindy,” officer Tibbs said, ignoring Jack.

“Is she doing any better?” Davis asked as he peered into the glass wall of the unit. As he looked inside, he noticed Cindy’s chart in a plastic pocket attached to the door of the unit. “Has anyone else been by to see her?” Davis continued as he handed Cindy’s chart to Jack. Jack began to scan it quickly.

“Major Knowles came by, but I asked him to leave. This must be the doctor that was driving the car,” officer Tibbs continued with a flash of hostility in his voice.

“I don’t think we need Major Knowles around here. Yes, this is my client, Dr. Jack Randolph. Jack, this is officer Jason Tibbs from Georgia Maximum Security Prison,” Davis stated flatly.

“You must be the one that gave Cindy the greyhound,” Jack said in a kindly way.

“That would be me,” Tibbs replied with a note of sadness in his voice as he turned and looked at Cindy lying motionless on the bed and connected to numerous tubes and monitors. Davis touched Tibbs’ shoulder gently, and said, “Jason, there may be more to this than just a car wreck. You keep an eye on Cindy and her trailer and let me know if you hear anything. I need to get my client back to the hotel. He has a rough day in Court ahead of him tomorrow.”

TWENTY

Jack was not surprised when Fitz Davis pulled up to the front door of the Cloister at precisely eight in the morning as agreed. The ride off Sea Island, across the causeway and into Brunswick felt like it was happening in slow motion as Jack looked down at the expanse of marsh below the causeway.

“What exactly are we doing today? Except for a DUI four years ago, I really haven’t been to Court much,” Jack said as they approached the center of Brunswick. “I haven’t even had a speeding ticket for the last two years.”

“Today is your arraignment. You will be pleading not guilty and the Judge will set your bond. I understand from his Clerk that it will probably be thirty thousand dollars, based on what the Judge has done in similar cases,” Davis said.

“But I don’t have thirty thousand dollars! Especially after I pay you,” Jack said quickly.

“Our local bondsman will handle that for you. You just need to pay him one thousand today and another thousand later and sign a bunch of papers that basically say that if you were to skip he could take your property. But you won’t skip, because if you did, you’d be found very quickly and put in a gunnysack to be delivered to the Courthouse by his Geechee bounty hunter, Polonius Starr. Very few people have been able to evade Polonius for long,” Davis continued.

“Of course, I’m not going to skip,” Jack said with irritation. “What else will we be doing?”

“I expect that there will be a little dog and pony show concerning the accident by the Sheriff and the District Attorney in opposition to your bond and a request to have you kept in the Ossabaw jail until your trial in about six months,” Davis explained.

“So what is the difference with this DUI? For the previous one, I paid a big fine and did community service, usually working weekends at Grady Hospital in Atlanta,” Jack asked.

“The difference is that we are dealing with a serious injury along with reckless driving involving drugs and alcohol. You could get two years for those. And that is assuming that Cindy lives. If she were to die, you would certainly be looking at involuntary manslaughter which could be ten years,” Davis replied.

“So I could be looking at years in prison either way? Even though you seem to think there is something strange going on with this accident? And even though I know for certain I didn’t take any drugs?” Jack said, now understanding the seriousness of his situation.

“Thinking something is not quite right about this accident and proving it are two different things. But at least we have Judge Valentino. He is under no illusions about the Sheriff, and he will take the time to get to the bottom of things. Also, there has been a development over at Georgia Maximum Security Prison in Lester. The prison is under a bunch of Court Orders from Judge Valentino that cover everything that goes on in the prison. Some of the Orders involve medical care and order the State to provide adequate medical care for the inmates. Recently, the prison doctor was murdered. So they need a doctor over there, at least temporarily. It takes a while to find a decent doctor who’ll work in a prison like G-MAX,” Davis continued.

“I’m not going to work at Georgia Maximum Security Prison! I have a job waiting for me in Atlanta. Besides, I don’t know anything about inmates and their medical problems,” Jack stated, somewhat loudly for emphasis.

“We will see. You may find Judge Valentino to be quite persuasive. And inmates get sick just like anybody else,” Davis replied with a slightly knowing smile. “Also, the State has a history of being creative in providing doctors at G-MAX. Years ago, a Board Certified internist from Macon got into a bunch of trouble with drugs. Everyone agreed he was a good doctor. The State Medical Board decided to give him a limited license to practice medicine at the prison. The Warden made him a trusty and gave him a white coat and a State house on the prison grounds. After he completed his sentence he continued to work for the Department and did a good job. I think you will find Judge Valentino to be quite imaginative and flexible in the way he handles things.”

“Most patients don’t generally murder their doctors,” Jack replied sharply.

They pulled into a parking spot on the side of the Courthouse. The Courthouse took up an entire block in the center of Brunswick. It was a white columned, classical stone structure, placed in the center of a manicured green lawn and surrounded by palm trees and huge oaks laden with Spanish moss. A work detail of three inmates in orange jumpsuits was lightly supervised by an older Deputy as they picked up the few pieces of trash that had accumulated from the previous day. The Deputy waved at Davis as he and Jack walked up the granite steps and into the building. Davis looked at the Deputy manning the metal detector at the entrance and stated, “He’s with me.” The Deputy nodded and they walked directly through the metal detector which buzzed loudly. Jack followed meekly as Davis moved quickly across the polished tiles of the Courthouse rotunda, stopping to pull open a huge mahogany door with a brass handle. Above the door, large brass letters announced, “Superior Court, State of Georgia.”

The few people in the Courtroom were milling about, preparing for the arrival of the Judge. Two deputies on each side of the Courtroom looked out toward the entrance and carefully scanned the Courtroom for any potential security problems. The Judge’s long time Clerk, Albert Rogers, was at his seat below the bench, sorting through a sheaf of papers. In front of the Judge’s bench were two varnished wooden tables for counsel. Beyond the bar of the Court were twenty rows of pews divided into two parts by a red carpeted path which led to the Judge’s bench. Seated on one of the front rows was Major Knowles and beside him was the District Attorney, Dewey Lawson, an ancient, white haired, attorney in a rumpled seersucker suit who seemed to be somewhat nervous as he took his glasses off and on while looking at the file in his lap. Arnold O’Berne, the attorney for the inmates at Georgia Maximum Security Prison, was seated at the counsel table on the right side of the Courtroom. From time to time, he would make a comment to the Clerk which the Clerk seemed to generally ignore.

Davis moved toward the empty counsel table with nods and waves to the Clerk, the Major, the District Attorney, the Deputies and Arnold O’Berne. Jack followed him, comforted somewhat by the fact that his attorney seemed to know everyone in the Courtroom. Once they arrived at the counsel table Davis signaled for Jack to take a seat while he walked over to speak to Arnold O’Berne who rose to shake his hand.

“I see you brought the new prison doctor with you,” lawyer O’Berne said to his opponent, very quietly so that Jack could not possibly hear. “He’s certainly got great credentials from the checking I have done.”

“You know, Arnold, we need to get a good doctor in there right away. This could be a good opportunity for my man if the Judge is willing. I am sure he would be delighted to serve the community over at Lester,” Davis said, just as quietly with a sly smile.

“Fitz, we have been litigating this Class Action on the conditions of confinement at G-MAX for the last five years. We both wrote the Judge’s Order that sets out the qualifications of the prison doctor. We also both know that the Judge is going to make sure that there is no medical lapse over there because of Dr. Bridge’s death. So my question is, how long did it take to get that Vanderbilt, Buckhead doctor of yours to agree to this?” attorney O’Berne asked.

“I have talked to him about it. But I may just let the Judge explain it to him. Judge Valentino can be so persuasive,” Davis replied quietly as he returned to his seat next to Jack.

“What is going on? Is there some other case on here today?” Jack asked. Before his attorney could answer, the Deputies stood at attention and the Deputy on the right side of the Courtroom announced in a booming voice, “All rise, the Superior Court of the State of Georgia is now in session. God bless this Honorable Court and the United States of America.”

A tall, broad faced, portly man with graying brown hair, who appeared to be in his early seventies appeared from the door behind the bench. He was wearing a black robe and hanging around his neck was a pair of bifocals. He sat down and adjusted the glasses as he picked up a file. “Please be seated,” he quietly announced and all persons in the Courtroom took their seats.

“Mr. Davis and Mr. O’Berne, I understand we have a problem with the G-MAX case?” the Judge asked, looking out at the two lawyers over his spectacles.

Fitz Davis rose and addressed the courtroom. “Your honor, sadly, Dr. Amy Bridge, the prison doctor, was murdered recently. She was a Board Certified physician in internal medicine and had devoted her life to helping inmates. I think the Court and Mr. O’Berne would agree that she was doing a wonderful job as the prison physician at Lester. The State has set up a national search committee to try to replace her. But finding a doctor of her caliber will take some time. She was one of those doctors who are devoted to the public health. Most doctors with her experience and credentials tend to practice outside the prison system. The Department is making every effort and I’m sure we will have acceptable candidates soon,” he said.

Attorney O’Berne then rose to address the court. “Judge, I am also saddened at the death of Dr. Bridge. Mr. Davis is correct that she was a large part of the solution to medical problems at Georgia Maximum Security Prison. It was very unusual for the State to find someone of her caliber for the job. I also know that the tragic circumstances of her death will add to the difficulty of finding a replacement. Warden Hammond has assured me that security in the medical area has been tightened. Even so, a lot of female doctors are going to be very afraid of working at Lester. I hope that in the long run a suitable replacement can be found. But as your honor is aware, your Court Order requires the State to employ a full-time, Board Certified physician at Georgia Maximum Security Prison. Your Order also sets out experience and qualification criteria which, thankfully, are quite high. But until she is replaced, the work at G-MAX must go on. I would like to hear from Mr. Davis the State’s plan for the months it will take to find another Dr. Bridge.”

Judge Valentino peered over the edge of his glasses directly at Fitz Davis with a slight side glance at Jack. “Mr. Davis, losing Dr. Bridge created a huge hole in the health-care system at Lester. We have all worked hard to get healthcare for inmates at Georgia Maximum Security Prison up to a reasonable level. How exactly does the State plan on providing high-level physician services to Georgia Maximum Security Prison while you look for a new doctor?” the Judge asked in a crisp voice as he leaned slightly over the bench.

Fitz Davis again rose and addressed the court. “Judge, the State understands that we are under your Order to keep a full-time doctor at G-MAX. The Order also requires that this doctor must be Board Certified in internal medicine and also meet the experience requirements as set out in your Order. We may need a temporary modification during the search period. We plan on bringing contract doctors from Brunswick and from other institutions while there is a vacancy. We will also transport inmates to the Augusta Correctional Medical Institution as necessary.”

“Mr. Davis, the inmates are still going to get sick and now Dr. Bridge is gone and Augusta is a long way away. You’re free to bring a formal modification request, but so far I’m not hearing anything to incline me to modify my Order. You know we need a full-time, experienced doctor at a big prison like G-MAX,” the Judge responded briskly.

“Yes, but under the circumstances …” Davis began as Arnold O’Berne quietly smiled, looking at the Judge.

Mr. O’Berne stood and again addressed the court. “Your Honor, I believe there is another case on the calendar today. Perhaps if you went ahead with that case it would give Mr. Davis and I time to review this issue,” he said, looking directly at Jack.

The Judge smiled and looked around the courtroom. “That is a good idea. I will call the next case, State of Georgia versus Jack Randolph. It is my understanding this is on the calendar for an arraignment and a bond hearing,” the Judge said.

After the Judge spoke, Mr. O’Berne picked up his file and was replaced at the counsel table by Major Knowles and the District Attorney. Jack and Fitz Davis stayed in their seats, and Davis again addressed the Court. “Your Honor, I represent Dr. Randolph in this matter and we have requested a bond of thirty thousand dollars. He was released by the Sheriff pending this hearing.”

The Judge looked at Jack over his spectacles and asked, “Dr. Randolph, you are charged with driving under the influence of alcohol and drugs and for reckless driving. How do you plead, Dr. Randolph?”

Jack stood and faced the Judge. “I am not guilty,” Jack said firmly. “I would like to explain,” he began until he was interrupted by Fitz Davis who was on his feet in a flash. “Your honor, my client has pled not guilty. I believe that is all he has to say today,” Davis stated in a tone of authority as he motioned for Jack to sit down immediately. The Judge smiled slightly.

The District Attorney rose to address the court. “Your Honor, the Sheriff and I have an objection to this bond. We would like to present evidence on that issue,” he said, pointing to Major Knowles.

“You may do so,” the Judge ruled. Major Knowles rose, carrying a file and a laptop computer, took the witness stand, and was duly sworn. It was apparent he had testified many times as he calmly opened the file in his lap and booted the laptop.

“Major Knowles, could you identify yourself for the record and tell the Court the circumstances of this accident?” the District Attorney asked in a slightly halting voice, giving the Major and open ended invitation to testify at length. Fitz Davis sat back in his chair, rolled his eyes slightly and prepared to listen.

“Your Honor, for the record, my name is Major Ross Knowles and I work for the Sheriff of Ossabaw County. This accident is upsetting to all of us at the Sheriff’s office, as I’m sure it is to this Court. Cindy Jessup is a longtime employee of Sheriff Odum and she is the Assistant Homeland Security Director for the Georgia Coastal Region. She is a wonderful person we all know and love. This is what she looks like now, because of Dr. Randolph,” Major Knowles said forcefully as he clicked a key on the laptop. On a large flat-panel screen, directly across from the jury box and visible throughout the Courtroom flashed a huge picture of Cindy in her bed in the ICU unit, connected to numerous machines by an assortment of tubes. “This is the Cindy we used to know, prior to Dr. Randolph,” he continued, clicking forward to a picture of Cindy in a crisp blue dress making a presentation to a group of Deputies. “Dr. Randolph’s blood-alcohol level, taken at some time after the accident was a .09, which is above the legal presumption of intoxication at .08. Also, Dr. Randolph’s blood showed a significant concentration of the drugs Ecstasy and cocaine. As such, looking at the combination of these, we feel we have a strong case for driving under the influence of drugs and alcohol,” Major Knowles said firmly, clicking again on the computer to show a printout of the blood analysis with the alcohol and drug findings highlighted and enlarged on the screen.