Custody of the State (9 page)

Then the door to an anteroom opened, and a small flood of people entered the courtroom. In the lead was prosecutor Harry Putnam, striding quickly, file in hand. He was grinning.

The court reporter was next, lugging her stenographic equipment.

She was followed by a woman wearing a bland suit jacket and a pair of jeans, with a plastic tag dangling from her neck on a little chain. She was carrying a pile of papers. Will assumed she was a county worker—probably Liz Luden from Social Services.

Finally, a rumpled-looking woman in a pantsuit entered the courtroom. She had a briefcase and shouted a husky hello to the bailiff as she walked over to him. The two enjoyed a loud laugh about something until the judge entered in his robe, a thick file under his arm.

The courtroom fell silent as everyone rose.

“State of Georgia versus Mary Sue Fellows—child abuse—one count—everybody here?” the judge asked.

“Herodius Putnam, prosecutor, for the State.”

“Harriet Bender, recently court-appointed to act as attorney ad litem for the child Joshua Fellows,” the woman in the pantsuit barked out with enthusiasm.

“Liz Luden, Social Services, Your Honor.”

Will Chambers moved forward to the empty counsel's table.

“Your Honor, Will Chambers, from the Commonwealth of Virginia. I have filed my motion for admission, pro hac vice. I am here, entering a special appearance on behalf of Mary Sue Fellows.”

“Perhaps you could enlighten us,” the judge asked with a smile, staring up at the ceiling, “what's so
special
about your appearance today, Mr. Chambers?”

Putnam and Harriet Bender laughed loudly. The bailiff and the court clerk were resisting the temptation to join in the mirth.

“The special appearance is to let the court know that we are objecting to jurisdiction over my client. A
general
appearance, Your Honor, would have waived any jurisdiction defects—”

But Will was interrupted by the judge. “Oh, now don't lecture me on the law of criminal jurisdiction, Mr. Chambers. Before we get down to the nitty-gritty legalities of the situation—you're asking this court to permit you to practice here in Georgia for purposes of this case?”

“That's right. I filed my motion for admission, which has been endorsed by Alexander Armstrong, former Chief Justice of the Georgia Supreme Court and presently the president of the Georgia Bar Association.”

“I know who Mr. Armstrong is, counselor. He and I just had dinner together at the state bar meeting not three weeks ago,” the judge said. “So let's not get off on that.” He paused for a few seconds, eyeing Will.

The judge turned to the other two lawyers.

“Any objections to Mr. Chambers' motion?”

“No objection,” Harry Putnam snapped out, then sat down.

“Ms. Bender?”

Harriet Bender rose slowly.

“As guardian ad litem for the minor child, I take no position on Mr. Chambers being admitted. However, if I get a whiff of any funny business from out-of-state counsel that interferes with the best interests of my client—Joshua Fellows—I will be back in this courtroom in a heartbeat. And Mr. Chambers,” and with that she turned to face Will, “this court knows that I will tolerate no attorney who takes any action that impedes my representation of my children.”

The judge smiled. “Mr. Chambers, Ms. Bender is one of our best attorneys ad litem for minor children. This court knows well how she represents them with the kind of zeal that a mother bear would show for her little cubs.”

Will decided not to comment on that metaphor, and he nodded politely. Though he couldn't help thinking that the part of the mother bear had already been cast in this drama—and Mary Sue Fellows was the one playing it.

“On the criminal case number 04-CR-169, Mr. Chambers, is your client here?”

“No, Your Honor.”

“Why not?”

“To divulge that would be to reveal attorney–client confidences—which my client has not authorized me to do.”

The judge tapped both hands on the bench like he was playing a bongo drum. When he finished he addressed Will again.

“Do you know where she and little Joshua are?”

“I can candidly say that I don't know where they are. But even if I did, I would probably not be able to reveal that based on my ethical duty to preserve client confidences—”

“You seem to be singing the same song again, Mr. Chambers. I'm hearing a broken record. If this isn't live—then it must be Memorex…”

Putnam and Bender were chuckling.

“Let's hear something new,” the judge said impatiently. “Like this—when can this court expect Ms. Fellows to be
present with you
in court so we can take a plea—and proceed with this criminal case?”

“I'm not sure, Your Honor. If Mr. Putnam would see clear to dismiss these charges—or at least file a nolle prosequi—I am fairly confident that I could produce Mary Sue Fellows, and the prosecution and I could then discuss getting to the truth—”

Putnam jumped up, his arms flailing.

“The State of Georgia will not be dismissing these charges, Your Honor. As the court knows from the ex parte hearing we held in closed chambers before opposing counsel got here, this is a very serious case. You will recall the substantial evidence of child abuse that we have already presented.”

“Ex parte hearing?”
Will asked incredulously.

“Yes,” the judge said, “our code does permit that. Section 9-27-315 specifically authorizes an emergency hearing without attendance by the parent or her counsel—and even without notice to them—in order to transfer custody of the child—”

“Your Honor,” Will said, “section 328 in that same code chapter requires a finding by the court, based on an
emergency
situation, that the health and safety of the child have made such a drastic hearing—in the absence of the presence of the attorney—absolutely necessary—”

“I've been satisfied by the evidence. In fact, I'm more than satisfied that Mary Sue Fellows has got some mental issues—at least according to the evidence I've seen. And
my land,
Mr. Chambers—giving her little boy hydraulic brake fluid to drink—do you think that's
not
a danger to health and safety…”

But before Will could respond to what was apparently just a rhetorical question, the judge continued.

“The code has been satisfied. I have, today, entered an order transferring custody of Joshua Fellows to the care of the
Department of Social Services. Ms. Luden, have you secured a proper foster home for the child?”

Luden nodded.

“Now, all we need is the mother and the child. The criminal case cannot proceed without Ms. Fellows appearing personally to enter her plea and submit to the jurisdiction of this court. Instead, Mr. Chambers, this court is proceeding on the civil case—on the petition filed by Juda County for a permanent transfer of custody of Joshua out of the care of Ms. Fellows—the basis is child abuse. Because that action is civil—not criminal—we can proceed without Ms. Fellows' personal appearance.”

“I don't have a copy of that petition,” Will noted.

Putnam tossed a stapled packet of papers onto the counsel table in front of Will.

Will glanced at it and then addressed the court.

“We enter a denial to these allegations.”

“Noted,” the judge said casually. “The court clerk will be advising you all—when you come up to the bench after the hearing—of the date for the adjudication hearing on the issue of child abuse as grounds for transfer of custody.”

“Your Honor,” Will said.

“Yes?”

“The ten-day Georgia law hearing.”

“What about it?”

“Under section 19-13-3, subparagraph (c), 1, we have a right to a hearing within ten days to challenge this court's ex parte order transferring custody.”

“Fine. You'll get your hearing.”

“When?”

“Right now, Mr. Chambers. Go ahead and argue. Persuade me that what I did fifteen minutes ago in my office was legally incorrect.”

“I've had no time to prepare for that argument,” Will countered. “I've just received the petition.”

“It's all in there, Your Honor,” Putnam said, joining in. “The affidavits. Everything. Mr. Chambers should be able to respond to that right now.”

Will grabbed the packet of papers and flipped to the back. There was an affidavit from Dr. Wilson, the family's doctor. He had written that Mary Sue had impeded his proper treatment of Joshua, disregarding his advice. That she had become belligerent when he inquired about Joshua's medical history and her feeding schedule. And further, that he had personally reviewed the medical records from the hospital, where he had submitted Joshua to blood tests. Those test results, he concluded, had noted the presence of ethylene glycol—the main ingredient in hydraulic brake fluid—in Joshua's blood. Any further ingestion of that chemical could be fatal to Joshua.

A second affidavit was signed by Detective Otis Tracher. The detective indicated that after the arrival of the sheriff's deputies—and the arrest of Joe Fellows—he and a member of the evidence team had swept the kitchen for evidence. They had taken samples from the kitchen counter and had seized a child's drinking cup. The state crime lab results all indicated that there was hydraulic brake fluid on the kitchen counters and—most importantly—
on the child's cup
.

Of the final two affidavits, the first was from Liz Luden, Department of Social Services. It indicated that an anonymous caller had reported that Mary Sue Fellows was poisoning her son with hydraulic brake fluid. The second was from Dr. Parker, a local pathologist, who had performed the test on Joshua's blood that verified the poisoning.

“This evidence is complex and technical in nature,” Will said after reviewing the documents. “I need time to secure expert witnesses to rebut this.”

“Not here you don't. This is only a ten-day probable-cause hearing. Save that for trial.”

“Your Honor, this is all hearsay evidence—”

“Which our code
permits
in an
emergency
hearing,” the judge emphatically noted. “Read it yourself.”

“I have,” Will said. “That applies to emergency ex parte hearings—like the kind that you held in my absence earlier today—
but it does not apply to the ten-day probable-cause hearing
.”

“Well,” the judge said, leaning back, “that's what makes a good lawsuit. Differences of opinion. You can appeal that if you want—at the end of this case. Your objection is noted. This court affirms its prior ex parte order in this case.”

“But Your Honor,” Will added, “the county's entire case rests on expert-opinion evidence. But there is no evidence of the qualifications of the experts in these affidavits.”

Putnam was preparing to jump in, but the judge responded first. “I'm taking judicial notice that each of the folks in these affidavits is an expert. What else you got?”

That is when Harriet Bender rose to her feet.

“We want Mr. Chambers to be ordered to either produce the child or inform this court—as well as my office—where Ms. Fellows is hiding
my client
Joshua Fellows.”

“I have serious objections to that—” Will began to counter.

“I'm sure you do, Mr. Chambers. Now, here is what I am going to do,” the judge continued. “Mr. Chambers, you will have a period of time to either produce the child or find out from your client where the child is located.” Then the judge looked to Putnam.

“How long do you want, Harry?”

“Well, maybe seventy-two hours,” Putnam replied.

Bender stood up and rapped out, “
Twenty-four hours,
Your Honor. No longer than that. This little boy is fighting for his life.”

Before Will could respond the judge leaned forward and ruled.

“Here's what I'm going to do. I'm a fair man. Mr. Chambers, you've got five days. Five days. Either the boy, or his exact
whereabouts—so our law enforcement folks can pick him up and place him in the safety of a good foster home.”

Will clenched his jaw and nodded silently.

“I want your verbal acknowledgment to that—
on the record,
Mr. Chambers,” the judge demanded.

The purpose of that was clear to Will. The court was preparing the way to find him in contempt if he failed to comply.

“Do you fully understand each of the things I have ordered you to do today?”

“Yes,” Will said.

“Do you have any questions for the court at this time?” the judge added in a formal tone.

“Yes,” Will said. “I do have one. But I think I'll save it—I'll save that question for the trial on the merits, Your Honor.”