Miracle Creek(83)

Heights pursed her lips, as if forcing herself to say nothing.

Shannon said, “And are you aware that one of the study’s researchers, a Dr. Anjeli Hall, who was an attending at Stanford Hospital and professor at Stanford Medical School, treats children with autism with, among other things, chelation?”

Matt didn’t know the name, but those credentials—how could anyone dispute the legitimacy of someone like that?

“No, I don’t know that doctor,” Heights said, “but I do know that autistic children have recently died from IV chelation.”

“Caused by negligence of a doctor no longer licensed to practice medicine, correct?”

“I believe so, yes.”

“People die from doctors’ mistakes.” Shannon turned to the jury. “Just last month, I read about a child dying from a pediatrician’s dosage error for Tylenol. Tell me, Detective, if I give my child Tylenol tomorrow, is that medical abuse because Tylenol is obviously a dangerous medical treatment that can kill children?”

“Chelation is not Tylenol. The defendant gave Henry DMPS, a dangerous chemical normally administered in a hospital. She got it by mail, through an out-of-state naturopath.”

“Are you aware, Detective, that this out-of-state naturopath practices in Dr. Hall’s office, and she was refilling a prescription Dr. Hall originally wrote for Henry?”

Heights’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “No, I wasn’t aware of that.”

“Do you consider it medical abuse to provide medication prescribed by a neurologist who happens to teach at Stanford?”

She pursed her lips and thought for a while, and Matt wanted to say, Come on, don’t be an idiot. “No,” she finally said.

“Great.” Shannon crossed out IV Chelation on her chart. “Now, that leaves the so-called bleach treatment. Detective, what’s the chemical formula for bleach?”

“I don’t know.”

“It’s in your files, but it’s NaClO, sodium hypochlorite. What’s the chemical formula for MMS, the mineral solution that Elizabeth gave to Henry, which you’re calling bleach?”

She frowned slightly. “Chlorine dioxide.”

“Yes, ClO2. Actually, a few drops of it diluted in water. Are you aware, Detective, that companies use this to purify bottled water?” Shannon turned to the jury. “Water we buy in supermarkets contains the same chemical as the MMS formula she’s been calling ‘bleach.’”

Abe stood up and said, “Who’s testifying here, Judge?” but Shannon kept going, her voice rising and words getting faster. “Chlorine dioxide is present in over-the-counter antifungals. Are you arresting all the parents who buy those at Walgreens?”

Abe said again, “Objection. I’ve been trying to be patient, but she’s badgering the witness with all these questions outside the scope of her expertise, not to mention assuming facts not in evidence. Detective Heights is not a doctor, nor is she a chemist or medical expert.”

Shannon’s face flushed red with an indignant fervor. “That’s exactly my point, Your Honor. Detective Heights is not an expert, doesn’t know the first thing about these treatments she’s labeled—based on what, I have no idea—as dangerous and unnecessary, and she hasn’t bothered to learn the basics, which are all in her own files, if she’d bother to look.”

The judge said, “Objection sustained. Ms. Haug, you can call your own experts, but for now, stick to what’s in the record and within the scope of the detective’s duties.”

Shannon nodded. “Yes, Your Honor.” She turned. “Detective, are you permitted to start your own investigations? In the course of one case, if you come across evidence of another parent committing abuse, for example, could you open a new case?”

“Of course. It doesn’t matter how a claim comes to our attention.”

“In this case,” Shannon said, “you came across evidence of many other parents in your jurisdiction doing both IV chelation and MMS, through online discussions, correct?”

The detective’s eyes flickered to the gallery before she said yes.

“How many of these parents did you investigate for medical abuse?”

Her eyes flickered to the gallery again. “None.”

“And that’s because you don’t consider MMS and chelation to constitute child abuse, isn’t that correct?” Shannon didn’t say it, but Matt could almost hear the unsaid words: Because if those treatments were abuse, half the people here should’ve been thrown in jail long ago.

Heights glared, and Shannon stared right back, the staring duel lasting for many seconds, past awkward to downright painful, when Heights said, “Correct.”

“Thank you,” Shannon said, and slowly, deliberately, she walked to her chart and put a big, fat line through the last row, Medical Abuse.

Matt looked at Elizabeth, her face unchanged, still wearing the expressionless mask she’d worn all yesterday as Detective Heights portrayed her as a sadistic abuser conducting painful experiments on her child for the hell of it. Except now, she didn’t look heartless but numb. Dazed from grief. And it occurred to him, what he’d known ever since he woke up: he had to tell Abe, and probably Shannon, too. Maybe not everything, but at least about Mary and the insurance call, the H-Mart note. The cigarettes, he could wait and see. But he had to go find Mary and warn her. Give her a chance to go to Abe first and confess.