Custody of the State (45 page)

“I spoke of the right of children to be free of abuse. But I am also concerned about the abuse of good parents by a system that doesn't always respond the way it should. The right of parenting is a fundamental right. To overcome it, the harm to the child must be real, not imagined—the threat must be imminent—and above all, the procedures used against the parents must be scrupulously fair.

“Ex parte hearings without notice to the parents or their attorneys—police sweeping down onto a farm family when lesser measures could have been used—a case carefully built to prove abuse rather than to search for truth—these are not the hallmarks of fairness. This case should not have been brought. Period. If you want to know where the system went awry, then I
suggest that you, Mr. Putnam, and you, Ms. Bender—as honest and hardworking as the two of you are—I suggest that when you get up in the morning you look in the mirror. You will see where the system failed the Fellows family.

“This custody case is dismissed. The order transferring custody of Joshua to the county is hereby vacated. Mr. Putnam, there are still criminal charges outstanding against both Mr. and Mrs. Fellows, are there not?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” the prosecutor responded, not bothering to stand.

“If you can't prove abuse by a civil standard, then you can't prove it by a criminal standard—right?”

“That's true—though Joe Fellows is actually charged with obstruction of justice.”

“Yes. And that case is assigned to my courtroom. Do you know what I intend to do with those charges?” the judge asked sternly.

“Actually, judge,” Harry Putnam said, finally rising to his feet, “I will be withdrawing all criminal charges against both Mary Sue and Joe.”

“Today?”

“Ah…yes. That's right. Today.”

Joe Fellows was weeping openly and unashamedly, his shoulders heaving with sobs.

In the pandemonium that followed, the judge swept down from the bench and then slammed the doors to his chambers so firmly that the picture of George Washington hanging over the judge's chair began swinging to and fro.

The crowd in the courtroom was on its feet—reporters were shouting for Joe and for Will. But Will was being drawn, inexplicably, out of the courtroom. Out through the cacophony and the pushing and shoving, and the sea of faces. Will made his way through them. Guard Thompson rushed to Joe and offered to escort him to his cell so he could remove his jail clothes, don the shirt and pants he was wearing the day he was arrested, and get ready to be released into the daylight.

As Will muscled his way out, the crowd of reporters was spilling out into the hallway—and soon it was packed with onlookers and members of the press.

“Mr. Chambers!” a woman's voice called out.

Will glanced in the direction the voice had come from.

“There he is—go on!” said an older woman he didn't recognize. She was propelling a younger woman with blonde hair and light-blue eyes toward Will.

And then the attorney realized who the younger woman must be.

The crowd parted in front of Mary Sue as she made her way toward Will Chambers, smiling, crying, and laughing all at the same time, and wiping the streams of tears away in big swipes.

She reached out her arms to Will, who accepted her tender hug.

“Thank you for giving me back my family,” she whispered, in a voice choked with tears.

Guard Thompson was smiling and opening up the crowd for his former prisoner. Then Joe Fellows saw his wife. When his eyes met hers, she gave a little convulsed sob and began running toward him.

“Mary Sue!” Joe yelled out in joy.

But in the chaos there were others.

Beth, Jason Bell Purdy's former secretary, was in the crowded hallway, making certain for herself that the terrible mistake she had made would be corrected. She covered her mouth and disappeared quickly into the human tide in the hallway.

And there was also another, there in the hallway. In the mass of people. And as Joe ran toward Mary Sue, he realized it first.

Suddenly the elation rushed out of him—replaced instantly by fear. Stunned, he looked closer, to his right. He saw a gun barrel appearing out of the crowd.

Behind sunglasses and a hat, Linus Eggers held the revolver with both hands to steady it. It had a full round. More than enough for both of his targets—Mary Sue Fellows and Will
Chambers, her attorney, who was assumed to be the repository of all of her knowledge about Henry Pencup.

Eggers aimed at Mary Sue's chest and started to squeeze the trigger.

Joe screamed wildly and dove toward the gunman, flying at him like a crazed linebacker who was using his body like a human missile to prevent the final, deadly play.

The gun discharged with a terrible reverberating bang as Joe's arms reached the barrel and knocked it downward.

The bullet hit the marble floor and ricocheted into the ceiling.

People were screaming and running away. Will was trying to push Mary Sue out of the line of fire. When he whirled around, he saw Linus Eggers on his back, sunglasses knocked off—pointing the gun toward his face.

There was a bang as the barrel was directed at Will's left eye.

Immediately a second shot rang out with a terrible, hollow echo.

But Will was still standing.

Deputy Thompson, his revolver pointed at the gunman's chest, had squeezed off two rapid-fire rounds before Linus could pull the trigger a second time. Eggers was dead on the cold marble floor, still clutching the revolver.

Joe scrambled up off the floor and rushed over to Mary Sue. He embraced her, checking her face, her hair, her body, to make sure she was unhurt.

Will stood stunned for a moment, taking a few seconds to process it all. Deputy Thompson was calling on his walkie-talkie for an emergency vehicle—and additional backup in case there were more gunmen.

They would find no other assassins.

Will walked over to the deputy. He reached out and the two men clasped hands firmly. The attorney could only shake his head—he had no words at first.

Thompson was smiling.

“Give me fifty years or so,” Will finally said, “and I will think up some way to thank you.”

62

T
HE PRESS CONFERENCE
had been adroitly planned to take place on the front steps of the Georgia Statehouse. A bevy of news reporters and cameras were all focused on Jason Bell Purdy, who was smiling confidently while concluding his remarks.

“For those reasons,” Purdy said, “I support the quick action of Congress, as well as the President, in ending the airline strike that was threatening to paralyze our nation.”

Then Purdy pivoted ever so slightly and looked directly into the cameras, with polished sincerity and honed poise.

“Later this week I'll be releasing my position paper on the recent developments in the Middle East, the ever-present threat of terrorism, and even more importantly, the need for a geopolitical partnership with the community of nations. Global unity and goodwill are not options in the twenty-first century, they are mandates. That will be a major theme of mine as I represent the fine state of Georgia in the United States Senate, finishing the term of Senator Jim Boggs Hartley, a truly great American whose death was a blow to us all. I am leaving this press conference and going directly to his widow so I can confer with her and get a true sense of those matters that weighed most strongly on his heart—those matters she thinks her late husband would most want me to complete on his behalf.”

A raft of hands appeared in the crowd as the reporters began pelting Jason Bell Purdy with questions.

“What about the allegations of wrongdoing in the Eden Lake Resort project? What about the questions that were raised in the child-abuse case over in Delphi?”

Purdy smiled with assurance and raised his hand to quiet the group.

“As you know,” he responded, “you were told in advance I was not going to take any questions except in regard to those matters in my prepared remarks, but I will say this: Because these wild accusations have been raised, tomorrow, at noon, my office will release a statement answering all of your questions and putting to rest this ridiculous allegation that was thrown out by a desperate trial lawyer. Of course, you all know the reputation of trial lawyers!”

A few chuckles came from the press corps.

The new senator fielded a few more questions from the media group and then excused himself with a smile and a wave to the cameras.

Jason Bell Purdy would be right about one thing—the statement released from his office, carefully prepared by political and legal strategists, would quiet the questions raised about the Eden Lake Resort project.

Bank examiners would be unable to trace the several million dollars missing from the Delphi National Bank.

Father Godfrey, who was spending more and more time fishing and tending to his small garden, would never reveal the confession of bank president Henry Pencup.

The overflow pen was permanently closed, and the brutal guard pleaded guilty on a negotiated plea and was sentenced to ten years in prison. And the Juda County jail overall, both in its procedures and its facility, would be updated.

On the whole, the predictable and safe patterns of life in Delphi continued as before. However, metal detectors were installed at all the entranceways of the courthouse—particularly when it was realized, after the Linus Eggers shooting, that the Delphi facility was one of the few remaining courthouses that had not installed them.

Eggers had died immediately in the shootout. At the autopsy, high levels of cocaine were found in his blood. That, coupled
with the fact that Eggers was in the final stages of his battle with AIDS, created a comfortable conclusion for most of the community—that his attempt to assassinate Mary Sue Fellows and Will Chambers was an aberration caused by a brain dysfunction.

Harry Putnam had had hopes of being a circuit judge, but he was rightly concerned about the outcome of the Mary Sue Fellows case and felt it did not bode well for him politically, at least in the near future.

Not long after the trial, Putnam called Will Chambers at his office in Virginia to confirm the final dismissal of all the criminal charges against Joe and Mary Sue.

“Will, trying the Mary Sue Fellows case against you was—well, let's just say it was
educational
. Do me a favor and don't come up against me again anytime soon.”

Will thanked him for the compliment and wished him farewell.

After he hung up with Putnam, Will contacted the legal counsel for the State Department. The attorney told Will that the Department appreciated his cooperation in delaying the lawsuit against General Nuban for the Sudan atrocities. As a result, they wanted to offer him some information.

The lawyer indicated they had received information that General Nuban would be making a short stop on American soil for a meeting of international arms dealers in Miami. That would give Will Chambers and his legal team a perfect opportunity to serve the lawsuit papers on the general while he was within the borders of the United States, which would remove some of the jurisdictional objections the general and the nation of Sudan might have to the legal action.

After finishing the phone call with the State Department, Will stepped over to Hilda's desk with the carbonless copy of a credit slip that documented a lunch at Denny's Log Cabin for $7.43. Handing the slip to Hilda, he asked, “Do me a favor—get this framed, will you?”

Hilda gave him a look of total bewilderment. “You are kidding, of course—right?”

Will smiled, and then he declared, “Hilda, I've never been more serious in my life.”

63

S
O WHERE DOES THAT LEAVE YOU
?”

“With a little different perspective, I suppose.”

“You mean, regarding Mary and the welfare of her little boy?”

“Yes. A different paradigm. A shift of focus.”

“How so?”

“Well, I'm trying to figure this out—put myself in her shoes. She sees a tyrannical abuse of government power—obviously. But I really believe she was mostly thinking much like any loving mother would—she was trying to figure out how to protect her little boy.”

“But with obvious differences from the usual case, right?”

“Oh, yes. Absolutely.”

“In this case, the little boy is what the whole story is about.”

“Sure. But the idea is the same. That's why I said a different paradigm, or focus. I was trying to approach the miracles in the Gospel accounts from the viewpoint of my old intellectual rationalism. I was approaching this story as if the real question were this—does God really protect us through supernatural acts?”

Len Redgrove thought for a minute about what Will had just said. Then he asked another question.

“Is that what you think was on Mary's heart?”

“I'm not sure,” Will replied, finishing the last bite of his apple pie. “But we have to assume she would be feeling and thinking like any mother—or any parent. Or any one of us, for that matter.”