Ingle turned to her, wearing the expression of a daydreaming schoolboy whose attention was being forcibly brought back to his class work.
“Yes,” he admitted somewhat grudgingly. “Defense has filed a motion to dismiss. Ms. Kellogg, I have not had time to review the lawyers’ briefs on this case. Please succinctly state your position for the record.”
“Yes, Your Honor. Mrs. Nye is suing Dr. Steele for the wrongful death of her husband. In point of fact, however, her husband is not dead.”
Croghan pounded his fist on the table before him. “The plaintiff contends that Mrs. Nye’s husband is dead, Your Honor!”
Kay jumped, obviously startled. Damian certainly understood. He was more than a bit startled himself.
Ingle, however, simply raised his hand, looking more pleased than perturbed by the unprofessional pounding. Damian wondered if the judge was making mental notes to use Croghan as a character in his next book.
“You’ll have a chance to speak, Mr. Croghan. Go on, Ms. Kellogg.”
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Kay said. “Before you is a copy of a name change approved by a Seattle court. As you can see, the man previously known as LeRoy Nye, the man to whom the plaintiff was married, legally changed his name to Lee Nye three years and five months ago. Lee Nye is very much alive. If necessary, the defense will be happy to produce him to prove that fact. As I said before, there is no basis for a wrongful-death suit, since there has been no death.”
“Your Honor—”
Ingle held up his hand. “A moment, Mr. Croghan. Give me a chance to review this motion.”
Ingle quickly scanned the documents that Kay had pointed out. A frown cut into his forehead. “Ms. Kellogg appears to be correct about this name change. Mr. Croghan, I fail to see—”
“Your Honor, the defense attorney is trying to mislead this court. She knows perfectly well that we’re dealing with a dual-personality individual. The truth is that even though the body that Roy Nye once possessed is still walking on this earth, Roy’s personality—what distinguished Roy Nye as a man like you or me—is dead. He was killed by Dr. Damian Steele.”
Ingle leaned over his bench, his interest clearly piqued. “Mr. Croghan, am I to understand that Mrs. Nye is suing this psychologist because he did away with her husband’s half of a dual-personality patient?”
“Exactly, Your Honor. You’ve stated the matter perfectly.”
Ingle leaned back, his smirk returning. “Hmm. Nothing mundane about this cause of action,” he mumbled as though to himself. “Is this true, Ms. Kellogg?”
“Your Honor, Lee Nye—not Roy Nye—was the patient who came to Dr. Steele for treatment. The Roy manifestation was only a dysfunctional personality fragment that—”
Croghan banged on the table, interrupting once again. “Your Honor, I protest! That man’s attorney just called my client’s husband a dysfunctional fragment!”
“Your Honor,” Kay began again, “Mr. Croghan’s outbursts are disruptive to—”
Croghan’s fist hit the table yet again. “Disruptive nothing! We have a right to be furious! This so-called psychologist thought of Roy Nye as only a dysfunctional fragment. We have it on record now!”
“Your Honor,” Kay said in a voice that sounded as if it was rapidly losing patience. “I appeal to you. It is very difficult to state the defendant’s position while the plaintiff’s attorney continues to interrupt with these pounding theatrics. I respectfully ask the court to admonish Mr. Croghan—”
“Yes, yes,” the judge interrupted. “A little less noise, Mr. Croghan,” he said without any real enthusiasm for the censure.
“Now, Ms. Kellogg,” the judge continued, “do I understand the defense’s position correctly? Is it your contention that Roy Nye was only a dysfunctional personality fragment and, therefore, Dr. Steele had a right to eliminate him?”
“Your Honor, I am not a psychologist, so it would be inappropriate for me to make any such contention, just as it would be inappropriate for this court to attempt to do so. The real issue—the legal issue—facing us this morning is whether or not a man has died. I have presented documentation to show that he has not.”
“Roy Nye is dead, Your Honor!” Croghan bellowed again. “Dr. Damian Steele psychologically murdered him!”
Ingle nodded appreciatively, his dark eyes as shiny as fresh fountain ink waiting for the dip of a feathery writing quill. “A psychological murder, eh? I like the sound of that. What do you say, Ms. Kellogg? Did your client psychologically murder Roy Nye?”
“Your Honor, despite the natural human titillation and intellectual draw of such a question, it is clearly not one that can be answered by lawyers. A debate over whether a man can be psychologically murdered, as the plaintiff claims, does not fall within the purview of the legal system.”
Again Croghan shouted. “Your Honor, I protest! Defense counsel is trying to cloud the issue.”
“No, Mr. Croghan, you are the one filling the air with the foggy fumes of rhetoric in order to try to block out the clarity of reason,” Kay said quietly, but firmly. “This is not a legal matter and you know it.”
“It is a legal matter! If a medical doctor’s malpractice results in death to his patient, the avenue of financial redress for the family is the court. This is no different. Dr. Damian Steele is a psychologist who deliberately performed psychosurgery to cut Roy Nye out of his own life. Mrs. Nye’s only course of redress for the loss of her husband is this court. Her case deserves to be heard!”
Ingle ran the palm of his hand over his mohawk appreciatively. “Hmm. I like your analogy to a medical doctor.”
“Except that logically and legally it doesn’t hold up,” Kay quickly interjected. “No medical definition has ever recognized death as occurring with the removal of a dysfunctional personality part—”
“The defense attorney is wrong, Your Honor! Brain-dead is legally dead!”
Kay turned to Croghan. “You know perfectly well that Lee Nye is not brain-dead. He is a functioning—”
“But he is not Roy! It is not a man’s body that defines him, but his thoughts, his emotions!” Croghan’s arms made great circles around him, building momentum before pointing accusingly at Damian. “Roy Nye’s essence is gone—murdered by that man!”
“Your Honor, there are absolutely no legal grounds—”
Ingle’s hands came up. “Yes, yes, Ms. Kellogg. You are right about there being no legal precedent for Mrs. Nye’s unusual cause of action. But it’s a damn interesting cause of action, you must agree. Hell, I can’t wait to see what the cri—uh...I mean, the jury will make of this one.”
Ingle picked up his gavel and held it high. “Motion to dismiss due to lack of cause denied.” He rapped the gavel once, its vibration bouncing ominously off the walls of the mostly empty courtroom.
Damian felt the legal blow of the judge’s decision.
