Penn stood up. “I object. I don’t see the relevance. Dr. Barker is not here, nor is Dr. Barker on trial here. If…”
Venable interrupted. “Your honor, I assure you that my line of questioning is very relevant to the testimony we have just heard. It also has to do with the defendant’s competency as a doctor.”
Judge Young said skeptically, “We’ll see. This is a courtroom, not a river. I won’t stand for any fishing expeditions. You may call your witnesses.”
“Thank you.”
Gus Venable turned to the bailiff. “I would like to call Dr. Mathew Peterson.”
An elegant-looking man in his sixties approached the witness box. He was sworn in, and when he took his seat, Gus Venable said, “Dr. Peterson, how long have you worked at Embarcadero County Hospital?”
“Eight years.”
“And what is your specialty?”
“I’m a cardiac surgeon.”
“And during the years you’ve been at Embarcadero County Hospital, did you ever have occasion to work with Dr. Lawrence Barker?”
“Oh, yes. Many times.”
“What was your opinion of him?”
“The same as everyone else’s. Aside, possibly, from DeBakey and Cooley, Dr. Barker is the best heart surgeon in the world.”
“Were you present in the operating room on the morning that Dr. Taylor operated on a patient named…” He pretended to consult a slip of paper. “…Lance Kelly?”
The witness’s tone changed. “Yes, I was there.”
“Would you describe what happened that morning?”
Dr. Peterson said reluctantly, “Well, things started to go wrong. We began losing the patient.”
“When you say ‘losing the patient…’”
“His heart stopped. We were trying to bring him back, and…”
“Had Dr. Barker been sent for?”
“Yes.”
“And did he come into the operating room while the operation was going on?”
“Toward the end. Yes. But it was too late to do anything. We were unable to revive the patient.”
“And did Dr. Barker say anything to Dr. Taylor at that time?”
“Well, we were all pretty upset, and…”
“I asked you if Dr. Barker said anything to Dr. Taylor.”
“Yes.”
“And what did Dr. Barker say?”
There was a pause, and in the middle of the pause, there was a crack of thunder outside, like the voice of God. A moment later, the storm broke, nailing raindrops to the roof of the courthouse.
“Dr. Barker said, ‘You killed him.’”
The spectators were in an uproar. Judge Young slammed her gavel down. “That’s enough! Do you people live in caves? One more outburst like that and you’ll all be standing outside in the rain.”
Gus Venable waited for the noise to die down. In the hushed silence he said, “Are you sure that’s what Dr. Barker said to Dr. Taylor? ‘You killed him’?”
“Yes.”
“And you have testified that Dr. Barker was a man whose medical opinion was valued?”
“Oh, yes.”
“Thank you. That’s all, doctor.” He turned to Alan Penn. “Your witness.”
Penn rose and approached the witness box.
“Dr. Peterson, I’ve never watched an operation, but I imagine there’s enormous tension, especially when it’s something as serious as a heart operation.”
“There’s a great deal of tension.”
“At a time like that, how many people are in the room? Three or four?”
“Oh, no. Always half a dozen or more.”
“Really?”
“Yes. There are usually two surgeons, one assisting, sometimes two anesthesiologists, a scrub nurse, and at least one circulating nurse.”
“I see. Then there must be a lot of noise and excitement going on. People calling out instructions and so on.”
“Yes.”
“And I understand that it’s a common practice for music to be playing during an operation.”
“It is.”
“When Dr. Barker came in and saw that Lance Kelly was dying, that probably added to the confusion.”
“Well, everybody was pretty busy trying to save the patient.”
“Making a lot of noise?”
“There was plenty of noise, yes.”
“And yet, in all that confusion and noise, and over the music, you could hear Dr. Barker say that Dr. Taylor had killed the patient. With all that excitement, you could have been wrong, couldn’t you?”
“No, sir. I could not be wrong.”
“What makes you so sure?”
Dr. Peterson sighed. “Because I was standing right next to Dr. Barker when he said it.”