Natural Causes

ALTERNATIVE HEALERS REALLY CARE

The specter in the red robe broke off his interview with Channel 7 and rushed over, extending a bony hand.

"Dr. Misha Korkopovitch, energy healing and shamanism," he said. "We're with you all the way, Dr. Baldwin. You're bringing us all together like nothing else ever has."

"Thank you," Sarah managed, as Matt whisked her up the stairs. "Matt, this is very strange and a little hard to take. Some of those people I revere as healers. Some, like that Misha, are probably kooks."

Matt glanced back as they entered the building. "Not much different than if they were a group of M.D.'s, right?" he said.

"… Let's look at what we have here, and how we intend to prove our case…"

Jeremy Mallon consulted his notes briefly and then began a slow strut before the tribunal. He was closely observed from the plaintiff's table by two other attorneys, one about his age and one quite a bit older.

"Grayson's lawyers," Matt whispered.

He nodded toward the courtroom, which had been nearly empty when they arrived. Several of the demonstrators had taken seats. And now Willis Grayson and an entourage of four were making their way down a row. Before Sarah could look away, Grayson's cool gray eyes found hers. The power and anger in them made her shudder. As she returned her attention to Mallon, she wondered about Lisa-how she was doing, and whether she had been given the option of attending today.

The physician on the tribunal, an obstetrician from Harvard named Rita Dunleavy, and the attorney, a balding, rumpled man named Keefe, were squeezed in behind the bench beside Judge Judah Land, according to Matt an implacable veteran of twenty-five years or more on the bench.

Mallon's opening remarks had included the words dangerous, reckless, irresponsible, negligent, arrogant, substandard, flawed, and fatal. Sarah, he alleged, had prescribed a potentially powerful set of drugs to patients who were at their most sensitive and vulnerable-those readying their bodies to give birth.

"Given the lack of control over herbal medicines," Mallon went on, "there are any number of points between the soil in Southeast Asia and the bloodstream of a woman in Boston where something can go awry. Our offer of proof today consists of letters from an obstetrician, Dr. Raymond Gorfinkle, and from a non-M.D. specialist in herbal medicine, Mr. Harold Ling. The letters from these two experts make it clear that Dr. Baldwin acted outside of standard medical practice in prescribing an herbal supplement for her patients in place of prenatal vitamins, and outside of standard holistic practice in the manner in which her supplement was prepared and dispensed. Specifically, Mr. Ling's letter questions the competence of the herbal pharmacist who ordered the herbs and then compounded the medicinals prescribed by Dr. Baldwin."

Mallon then proceeded to read the two condemning letters out loud. Gorfinkle, an obstetrician operating out of West Roxbury, stressed that in thirty plus years of practice, he had seen all manner of rites and rituals used by his patients. Some of those he felt were unhealthy, some innocuous. But never had he seen any broad deviation from the norm at the request of a physician. In his opinion, in Boston, Massachusetts, in the 1990s, substituting herbs of any kind for FDA-approved prenatal vitamins constituted substandard medicine.

Ling, an herbalist from New York's Chinatown, was no less damning. Herbal supplements had their place in maintaining health, he wrote, but only in small amounts, and only when provided by an established, responsible herbal pharmacist. It was his opinion that Kwong Tian-Wen, a well-known chronic opium abuser, was neither established nor responsible. He further felt that noni, the herb in the jar that Kwong believed contained chamomile, could well cause problems with blood clotting.

"Ling is one of Peter's oldest friends," Sarah whispered. "And Gorfinkle is just a hired gun. He makes a fortune testifying against other doctors."

"I'm not surprised," Matt said. "I'm sure my ex-wife would love the chance to do to me what Ettinger is doing to you."

"Mr. Daniels," Judge Land said, with a weariness in his voice that suggested Matt might as well remain mute, "you have about five minutes to present your arguments. You know that no letters from experts or other evidence will be considered from your side at this time."

"I do know that, your Honor, yes. Thank you… Sarah, listen," he whispered. "I don't want to say anything now that will give Mallon a clue as to what part of his case we intend to home in on. As, things stand, I can't see how we can win here. So we can only hurt ourselves."

"I understand." But Sarah wasn't at all certain she did.

"Your Honor, Dr. Dunleavy, Mr. Keefe," Matt said, eschewing the pacing tactics of his opponent and allowing just a hint of drawl into his speech. "What we're all looking for today is the presentation of a prima facie case from my colleague, Mr. Mallon. But what we have gotten instead is a very impressive smoke screen. What's missing? What void is Mr. Mallon trying to hide behind all that smoke? Well, I suspect you see the answer to those questions as well as I do. He's trying to hide the fact that he has nothing that connects action taken or not taken by Dr. Sarah Baldwin with the development of DIC in Lisa Grayson.

"Frankly, with what little substantive material he has produced today, I'm surprised Mr. Mallon has the gumption even to bring this case before a tribunal. We've heard a shouldn't have from Dr. Gorfinkle and a could possibly have from Mr. Ling, but those are the weakest speculations. There's no science here, no expert saying that what this caring, dedicated physician did was wrong, and that because-because-of her alleged actions, an infant was stillborn and her mother gravely injured. Without such an expert, Mr. Mallon has failed to prove his prima facie case. On that basis, I request a dismissal of the charges against my client."

"Bravo," Sarah whispered after Matt sat down. "Bravo."

"Bullshit," he whispered back.

"What?"

"I'm the one whipping up a smoke screen. And you can see by the faces on our panel up there that they know it. Mallon's done more than he had to to win here."

The judge thanked the participants, promised to have a decision within the hour, and dismissed the tribunal.

Matt spoke not at all as they left the courthouse and headed back toward his office.

"Well?" Sarah asked finally.

"Well, what?"

"Well, what do you think?"

"Think about what?" He seemed distracted and perplexed.

"About what just went on in there, of course," she said irritably.

"I think we lost."

"So what? You told me that was going to happen before we even went in."

"That doesn't make me feel any better about it. We were pretty much hammered in there. And Mallon did it without even working up a sweat." He sank down on a curbside bench. "Sarah, listen," he went on. "Dead babies and maimed young women make juries angry. Sometimes very angry. I don't know how solid a link Mallon's going to be able to forge between Mr. Kwong's herbs and Lisa Grayson's DIC, or even if a judge is going to allow him to introduce the two other DIC cases. But my sense is that with Kwong's drug arrest, and frail, pretty, one-armed Lisa coming forward to testify, he'll be able to pluck enough emotional chords to make a jury stick the burden of proof on us. And that's a position the defense never wants to be in."

There was a nervousness about him, a tension in his eyes and the set of his jaw, that Sarah had never seen before.

"Maybe you should go right to the bottom line," she said.

He looked up, startled that she had read him so quickly and so accurately. "Well, the bottom line is that there's an option available to us that I haven't discussed with you, but that I think we ought to seriously consider."

"Namely."

Black Cat Daniels chewed at his lower lip and scuffed at a cigarette butt with the toe of his shoe.

"Namely, to quit," he said.