Directed Verdict Read Online Free PDF Page B

Clinic.”
    “And is that what motivated you—,” Brad began.
    “Stop! Right there!” Ichabod demanded, her harsh words echoing off the courtroom walls. “You are flaunting this court’s rulings, Mr. Carson.” She clenched her teeth and hunched her shoulders. “Move off this line of questioning.”
    “Doesn’t the prosecution have to make her own objections anymore, or are you just—”
    “Don’t push it, Mr. Carson,” Ichabod snapped. “Don’t push it.”
    Brad pulled a copy of the case from his counsel table and turned to the dissenting opinion of Justice Anthony Kennedy. “Do you recall these words from the opinion?” he asked the reverend. He began reading as if Ichabod had never spoken. “Are these the words that caused you so much anguish that you went first to the courthouse and later to the clinic for the purpose of begging God to stop these procedures?”
    Ichabod looked stunned, but Brad could sense the wheels turning. Would she dare rule out of order, as being too emotionally charged, the very words from an opinion of the U.S. Supreme Court?
    “‘In a D and E procedure,’” Brad read, “‘the fetus, in many cases, dies just as a human adult or child would: it bleeds to death as it is torn from limb to limb. . . .’”
    The prosecutor jumped to her feet again. “I strongly object to this inflammatory tactic,” Bennett shouted in an effort to be heard over Brad’s reading.
    “‘. . . The fetus can be alive at the beginning of the dismemberment process and can survive for a time while its limbs are being torn off. . . .’”
    Ichabod started banging her gavel. “Mr. Carson! Mr. Carson!”
    The prosecutor continued objecting, and a loud murmur rose from the left side of the courtroom. The Reverend Bailey’s eyes widened.
    Brad increased his volume and continued over the rising din. “‘. . . Mere dismemberment does not always cause death. Dr. Carhart knew of a physician who removed the arm of a fetus only to have the fetus go on to be born as a living child with one arm.’” The gavel was still banging, Bennett objecting, and Ichabod was repeating the word sustained over and over. “‘At the conclusion of a D and E procedure, no intact fetus remains. In Dr. Carhart’s words, the abortionist is left . . .’”
    “That’s enough!” Ichabod screamed. The intensity of it stilled the courtroom. Nobody moved.
    “‘. . . with a tray full of pieces,’” Brad said into the silence.
    All eyes turned to the seething form of Ichabod, still hunched forward, wild-eyed, her face crimson.
    “That comment, Mr. Carson, will earn you contempt of court and a ten-thousand-dollar fine,” she said coldly, straining every muscle to keep control. “I have never, in twenty-six years on the bench, seen such obnoxious behavior.” As she spoke, her voice shook, the anger etched deeply on her face. “In addition,” she continued, “your contempt citation will carry a five-day prison term . . .”
    An audible gasp went up from the right side of the courtroom. Brad averted his eyes.
    After an exaggerated pause Ichabod continued. “. . . to be suspended on the condition of an apology to this court and good behavior befitting a member of the bar throughout the remainder of this case.”
    She glared at Brad. “Does counsel wish to make a statement or comment?”
    Brad knew the drill. She was waiting for a humble and contrite Brad Carson to grovel and apologize, and then she would probably consider some leniency. Even Ichabod was not in the habit of sending lawyers to jail. The ball was in his court.
    For this moment, Brad was ready. He had done his homework. He had mulled this scenario over in his head during the prior sleepless night. He knew that only one word could have the desired effect and consummate his plan. He weighed his response carefully.
    Then he shrugged.
    “Whatever” was all he said as he turned to take his seat.
    “Get him out of here!” Ichabod barked to