An Accidental Life (39 page)

“Possibly.”

Charles Vicari’s face revealed nothing. His expression was blank. His eyes were flat and cold. After a beat, Peter turned back to the witness.

“Did you autopsy the entire body?”

“Yes, that’s standard to determine whether any major congenital abnormalities existed. We found none.”

“Were you able to determine the gestation age of the infant during the autopsy, Dr. Kand?”

“Yes.” She gave a firm nod. “The body measured 11.8 inches, crown to heel. Weight was one pound, eight ounces, 680.4 grams to be precise, consistent with gestation age twenty-four weeks. Growth appeared average for that age.”

“Twenty-four weeks.” He nodded. “I’d like to go over your conclusions in the autopsy report now, please.” He presented copies to the defense and the judge.

Right now his goal was to make the life of this baby real to the judge. He wanted Morrow to feel something deep, sorrow for the loss of this life, for the human potential this little body represented. It wasn’t often a prosecutor was called to prove that a life had existed before it was extinguished.

“During your examination,” Peter went on, looking now at Dr. Kand, “—did you find anything unusual in the formation of the body, any abnormality in the organs—the heart, lungs, brain, kidneys?”

She turned her head toward Judge Morrow, as she spoke, as she and Peter had discussed, struggling to make the personal connection that usually softened her words with a jury.

“The visceral organs, including the heart and liver showed the stage of development expected for the age. Some of the intestines were already fully retracted into the pelvic basin, as would be expected. The lungs showed normal development. The circulation system was functional. The skeletal system, including the spine appeared normal for the age.”

A quick smile crossed her face. “Toenails were visible,” she added. But Judge Morrow was looking off over the courtroom now. Peter wished the judge had caught Dr. Kand’s spontaneous reaction.

Turning back to Peter again, Dr. Kand continued. “No abnormalities were found in the formation of the skull—the partially calcified plates were knit with fontanels, the thin membranes covering the brain. The brain itself appeared normal, the surface was smooth. The eyes were structurally complete, eyelids formed.”

And then, suddenly she turned again toward Judge Morrow. Catching the motion, the judge looked at her.

In a tone of wonder, she said, “The eyes at this age are already beginning to sense changes in light and dark.” The courtroom grew hushed.

Judge Morrow’s brows lifted slightly. He blinked, and when she turned back to Peter, he saw the judge’s eyes remained fixed on the witness. Morrow was listening now.

“Please tell us what this picture shows, Dr. Kand.”

She put on her glasses and turned toward the screen.

“That is a photograph of the infant’s brain during autopsy,” she said. “We remove the brain during the autopsy and fix it in a container of embalming fluid for two weeks. This is a photograph taken after the two weeks, and before we began the sectioning.”

Consciousness. He wanted to show the potential was there.

Shauna handed Peter a pointer and he handed it to the witness. “Can you show us what you were looking for?”

“Certainly.” Dr. Kand stood and stepped down from the witness stand. With the pointer in hand, she walked up to the screen and stood to one side, pointing to various parts of the brain as she spoke. “We were looking for any evidence of abnormal formation. Here . . .” She began moving the pointer across the photograph.

“Here you can see the folds in the brain appear normal for the age. We looked at the shape of the brain stem, here. We looked at the mid-brain. Here and here, we ruled out defects and immature formation of the lobes of the brain.” She looked at the judge. “Those are evident if they’re present.” She dropped her hands to her sides and turned to Peter.

“Thank you, Dr. Kand.”

Walking back to the witness stand, Dr. Kand handed the pointer back to Peter.

“As a result of your examination, would you say that the brain of the Chasson infant had matured normally for the gestational age of the child?”

“Yes.”

“And in your expert opinion, if the infant had been immediately placed on a ventilator, and had been given pediatric intensive care treatment, would the brain have continued to grow and mature in a normal manner, as the other organs?”

“Under the right medical conditions this infant could have grown to full term. So, yes. All evidence points to a healthy baby.”

Vince leaped from his seat, his voice booming. “Objection. Objection! This is nothing more than speculation.”

Peter turned. “Your Honor, Dr. Kand is giving her opinion as an expert in forensic pathology after full examination of the victim’s body and brain.”

Judge Morrow looked at the slide on the screen. Seconds passed. At last he turned to Vince. “The witness is stating her opinion. I’m going to overrule the motion, as I would assume I would do, should the defense call an expert on the subject.”

Peter met Stephanie Kand’s eyes for an instant and saw the flicker of hope. Now he drew in his breath. This was the big question. “As a result of your autopsy and examination, are you now able to come to a conclusion as to the cause and manner of death?”

“The manner of death was poor temperature regulation resulting in hypothermia, and inability to continue breathing.”

“In your expert opinion, could the child have continued breathing with medical assistance?”

“Yes. If the air passages were cleared and the child was placed on a ventilator, with temperature regulation.”

“Thank you.” He swallowed. “And as to the cause of death?”

He knew what she was going to say, and wished he could change her words. But she’d been adamant that since there was no obvious wound in this case, the cause of death was a legal conclusion that she could not address.

“That’s strictly a legal question in this case,” she said. “I’ll have to leave that to the lawyers and the court.”

Peter smiled at his witness. “Thank you, Dr. Kand.” He glanced over at Vince. “Please answer Mr. McConnell’s questions now.”

Judge Morrow glanced at the clock and looked at Vince. “This looks like a good time to break for lunch. You can take the witness on cross when we reconvene at 1:30.”

“We’re ready, Your Honor,” Vince said, smiling.

At lunchtime Alice waited until everyone had left the office, and then she locked the door, as usual. Dr. Matlock liked to go out for lunch, to get away from the place for a while. She didn’t blame him. Often he was up all night with a patient in labor.

Walking into the file room, she sat down at the desk and picked up the phone. She had made her decision. She didn’t hesitate. Once Alice made up her mind about a thing, she carried through. She dialed zero and gave the long-distance operator the number in Cincinnati.

The phone rang and only then did the first shiver run through her. Her call was answered on the third ring.

“Hello?” a voice said.

She’d forgotten how sweet the voice was.

“This is Alice,” she said. “Alice Braxton.”

There was silence on the other end.

“I’m sorry to intrude. I’d . . . I’d never thought I’d be speaking to you again. But, this is important. Do you have a few minutes to talk?”

The words came out a sigh. “Yes, of course. Hello, Alice.”

On Octavia Street, Rebecca sat in a rocking chair in the nursery, thinking of Peter’s trial. He’d tossed and moaned all night in his sleep as he’d done for months now. The Chasson case had taken over Peter’s life, she knew; he was obsessed with making people understand what he had learned—that babies born alive during induced abortion were being allowed to die.

She looked at the crib that Peter had set up. She thought of Daisy—or Gatsby—whichever arrived she would love. Day by day she’d felt her baby grow. Week by week she’d studied the pictures in the book that Dr. Matlock had given to her. And she’d begun to understand that life cannot be explained in human terms. That the creator exists, just as the witness John had written thousands of years ago, and that he listens and loves every little life on earth.

She hadn’t spoken about these thoughts yet to Peter. They were too private, still. Too deep; too vulnerable, as yet. But she thought of Glory Lynn Chasson’s baby and how he’d grown unloved, in contrast to her own. She spread her hands across the pages of Amalise’s Bible, open on her lap.

It was open to these words: “Life was in Him, and that life was the light of men. That light shines in the darkness, yet the darkness did not overcome it.” The Gospel of John, again—chapter one, verses four and five.

Darkness could not be conquered without hope, without revelation.

And then, once again she began to pray for something good to happen. She prayed for the power of God to flow through Peter, so that he could help to shine that light.

When court reconvened, Vince bypassed the lectern and headed straight for Dr. Kand. Peter wasn’t worried; McConnell wouldn’t have much to work with on the autopsy and pathology reports and he would most likely call his own experts to rebut Stephanie Kand’s testimony.

“Now,” he said. “After concluding the autopsy, you stated that you were unable to establish a finite range of time that the fetus might have lived without medical assistance after birth, isn’t that correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“And yet your answer in fact did state a range of time, did it not?”

She arched one brow. “I don’t think that’s right.”

Vince turned toward Michelene and asked her to find the answer he referred to, and read it back. He stood, hands folded before him while he waited.

Michelene found the passage and read from the transcript: “From the expansion of the air sacs combined with our finding of the presence of air in the stomach, the child was breathing for several minutes at least, and perhaps longer. But there’s no way that I could give you a range, for example an hour, or two hours as opposed to minutes. It could have been either.”

“Thank you,” Vince said, turning back to Stephanie Kand. “In that answer you stated that there was no way that you could state a range for the amount of time the fetus breathed, and yet immediately after making that statement, you suggested a range between minutes up to two hours.” He looked at his shoes and walked to the jury box and back.

“So which is it, Doctor?”

“I’m standing by that statement, Counsel. From the expansion of the air sacs, and the fact that there was air in the stomach, we know the fetus was alive at the least for several minutes. We know the time of birth, according to Dr. Vicari’s notes, and from the preservation of the body prior to freezing we know it was placed in the freezer within a few hours of death.” She shrugged. “I can’t be more specific than that.”

“You are correct. There’s not much to work with in coming to that conclusion. You will admit, won’t you, that you had much more information at hand when you came to your conclusion as to the gestational age of the fetus than the Defendant did at the time of birth?” He turned and extended his hand toward Charles Vicari.

“Yes, of course.”