Mistress of Justice

‘practiced,’ Doctor, not licensed. Have you ever
practiced
medicine anywhere outside of the United States?”
    The man swallowed, a look of horror in his eyes. “I’ve done some volunteer work.…”
    “Outside of the country.”
    “Yes, that’s right.”
    “And would you be so kind as to tell us which country, if that isn’t too much trouble, Doctor?”
    “Mexico.”
    “Mexico,” Reece repeated. “What were you doing in Mexico?”
    “I was getting a divorce. I liked the country and I decided to stay for a while—”
    “This was when?”
    “Eight years ago.”
    “And you practiced medicine in Mexico?”
    Morse was looking at his fingertips. “Yes, for a while. Before I moved back to California. I set up a practice in Los Angeles. I found Los Angeles to be—”
    Reece waved his hand. “I’m much more interested in Mexico than Los Angeles, Doctor. Now, why did you leave Mexico?”
    Dr. Morse took a sip of water, his hands trembling. The plaintiff’s lawyers looked at each other. Even the poor plaintiff seemed to have sat up higher in his wheelchair and was frowning.
    “The divorce was final.… I wanted to move back to the States.”
    “Is that the only reason?”
    The witness lost his composure for a moment as a time-lapse bloom of anger spread on his face. Finally he controlled it. “Yes.”
    Reece said, “Did you run into some kind of trouble down in Mexico?”
    “Trouble, like the food?” He tried to laugh. It didn’t work and he cleared his throat again and swallowed.
    “Doctor, what is Ketaject?”
    Pause. Morse rubbed his eyes. He muttered something.
    “Louder, please,” Reece asked, his own voice calm and utterly in control of himself, the witness, the universe.
    The doctor repeated: “It’s the brand name of a drug whose generic name I don’t recall.”
    “Could it be the brand name for ketamine hydrochloride?”
    The witness whispered, “Yes.”
    “And what does that do?”
    Morse breathed deeply several times. “It is a general anesthetic.” His eyes were joined to Reece’s by a current full of fear and hate.
    “And what is a general anesthetic, Doctor?”
    “You know. Everybody knows.”
    “Tell us anyway, please.”
    “It’s a solution or gas that renders a patient unconscious.”
    “Doctor, when you were in Mexico, did you have a patient, a Miss Adelita Corrones, a seventeen-year-old resident of Nogales?”
    Hands gripped together. Silence. He wanted water but was afraid to reach for the glass.
    “Doctor, shall I repeat the question?”
    “I don’t recall.”
    “Well, I’m sure she recalls you. Why don’t you think back to the St. Teresa Clinic in Nogales. Think back seven years ago. And try to recall if you had such a patient. Did you?”
    “It was all a setup! They set me up! The locals—the police and the judge—blackmailed me! I was innocent!”
    “Doctor,” Reece continued, “please just respond to my questions.” His tie was loose, his face was ruddy with excitement, and even from the back of the courtroom Taylor could see his eyes shining with lust.
    “On September seventeenth of that year, pursuant to a procedure for the removal of a nevus—that is, a birthmark—from Miss Corrones’s leg, did you administerKetaject to her and then, when you perceived her to be unconscious, partially undress her, fondle her breasts and genitals and masturbate until you reached a climax?”
    “Objection!” Marlow’s lead lawyer was on his feet.
    The judge said, “Overruled.”
    “No! It’s a lie,” the witness cried.
    Reece returned to the counsel table and picked up a document. “Your honor, I move to introduce Defense Exhibit Double G: a certified copy of a complaint from the federal prosecutor’s office in Nogales, Mexico.”
    He handed it to the judge and a copy to the plaintiff’s counsel, who read it, grimaced and said in disgust, “Let it in.”
    “So admitted,” the judge intoned and looked back to the witness.
    Dr. Morse’s head was in his hands. “They set the whole thing up. They blackmailed me. I paid the fine and they said they’d seal the record.”
    “Well, I guess it’s been unsealed,” Reece responded. “Now, the report goes on to say that the reason Miss Corrones was aware you were molesting her was that you not only administered the wrong dosage of Ketaject but that you injected it improperly so that most of the drug didn’t even reach her bloodstream. Is this what the prosecutor’s report