While Justice Sleeps(31)
“Tell me.”
Dr. Toca placed a hand on her shoulder. “When Justice Wynn was brought in last night, he showed signs of a drug overdose. Nurse Lewis brought in a pill bottle she found at his bedside. It appears he may have attempted suicide.”
“No.” Avery jerked away from Dr. Toca. “Justice Wynn wouldn’t do something like that.”
“He was getting worse, Avery.” Dr. Knox moved to her other side, but did not touch her. “Howard might have wanted to accelerate the end.”
As though waiting for his cue, Mumford spoke: “The question of the hour is how long he stays in this netherworld, Ms. Keene.” He folded his arms, examining her closely. “Assuming you are his legal guardian, it appears you have the power to decide how long he remains on the machines keeping his body operating.”
Avery caught the intentional note of doubt. “?‘Assuming’? ‘It appears’?” she repeated, her back stiffening. “Do you have something to say to me, Mr. Mumford?”
“Appropriate questions have been raised by Justice Wynn’s next of kin about the validity of his power of attorney. As you know, Mrs. Turner-Wynn is planning to contest the document. I’ve already received calls from her attorneys.”
“The power of attorney is valid, and your concerns are noted,” Avery replied stiffly.
“My concern is family squabbles being played out on the grounds of this hospital,” he huffed. “It is highly unusual for the next of kin to be passed over in this manner.”
“Justice Wynn has the right to choose whomever he wants to speak for him.”
“Ms. Keene, this hospital has never had to wage a public relations battle about one of its patients, despite the caliber of clientele we receive. I have never before had occasion to dispel the media from the lobby.”
“I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”
“As you should be.” His chest puffed out as he continued: “I must admit that I am dubious about why a venerable justice of our nation’s highest court would select his law clerk to make life-or-death decisions for him. He could do better.”
“Robert!” Dr. Toca glared at the attorney as Avery stood. The chair toppled behind her, while Dr. Toca chastised, “We discussed this. For now, this is our patient’s chosen representative. You will show her due respect.”
“Forgive me, Michael, but I’m the only one in this room responsible for the reputation of this facility. Your job is to treat the patients, even suicidal ones, but I am charged with keeping the hospital out of the courts. And allowing this woman to decide the fate of one of this country’s leaders who clearly suffered from mental distress is absurd.” He crossed to a stack of files and jerked a sheaf of pages free. “A power of attorney conferring unlimited authority on a child. This is either an act of senility or an act of romantic stupidity. Either way, this hospital will not be the pawn in her melodrama.”
“I’m twenty-six,” Avery corrected coolly, her hands hanging loosely at her sides, lest she lunge for the squat attorney’s throat. “And I, for the moment, am his guardian. Justice Wynn was many things, but never senile and never stupid.”
“Was he suicidal?” Dr. Knox broached the question quietly, holding up a hand to forestall Avery’s angry response. “Ms. Keene—Avery—if you did have a more personal relationship with him, you might have better insight into his behavior. Why he refused treatment and why he chose to vest control with you rather than his wife or son. Why he took an overdose last night. If you had a—deeper—relationship with him, we should know. It might help us.”
“I have never had any relationship with Justice Wynn other than that of mentor and employer, nor have I ever considered any other. He’s married, and despite your colleague’s insinuations, he held those vows to be very sacred.”
“How do you know?” snapped Mumford.
“Because he took every oath as sacred. Especially his oath as a judge.” Avery couldn’t explain the pills, but she could explain what she knew of the man. “Justice Wynn has been the swing vote on most major decisions in recent years on the Court. Without him present to vote, decades of his work would have been lost. He’d hold that responsibility to be graver than any medical crisis. I know this because it is my job to know,” she added, anticipating Mumford’s reaction. “I wrote his opinions, vetted his decisions. I know Howard Wynn.”
“Then do you know if he wants to remain on life support indefinitely?” Dr. Toca asked quietly. “If removing him from life support becomes a viable question, what were his wishes?”
Avery focused on the kindly face and the suspicious eyes. And answered honestly: “I have no idea.”
TWELVE
Sitting in her darkened office in the late afternoon lull, Avery struggled to make sense of her day. She wouldn’t meet with Jared Wynn until midnight, and focusing on work seemed impossible. She wanted to return to Justice Wynn’s office, but now the Court vultures were starting to circle. Avery tipped her chair back on protesting springs and stared at the ceiling. In the corner of her eye, her message light flashed insistently. Sighing, she reached across the desk and punched the button.
Messages played from latest to earliest—a preference she’d developed after discovering Justice Wynn’s penchant for long diatribes that resulted in an edict by the tenth pronouncement. Better to cut to the chase.