A Mother's Trial (40 page)

“I am even more surprised not to find this in her case, since according to the charges that have been leveled, a single or momentary act is not being discussed. It is apparently continuing and repetitive behavior. That kind of conception would either have to be seen in a thoroughly malevolent creature or at least someone whose emotional condition precludes them from normal human feelings and restraints. I find none of that present in Priscilla Phillips.”

Satten finished reading and looked up.

“Thank you, Doctor,” Al Collins said.

Week 9

Josh Thomas had saved Evelyn Callas's testimony for rebuttal. She was terribly nervous as she made her way to the stand, far more so than she had been at the preliminary hearing. She felt the trial was a culmination of all the hell she and Sara—the entire staff—had suffered at the hands of this woman. She did not begrudge the endless hours she had spent charting, recharting, collating, organizing, and reorganizing the records of the two Phillips children. It was an atonement of sorts. She should have realized the significance of the stool sodium; she knew that. She had tried to trade her guilt for anger at Priscilla Phillips, and to a certain degree she had succeeded. But the extent of her nervousness now reflected her anxiety that in some way she might fail again.

Evelyn began her testimony with a detailed account of the conversation on February twenty-fifth in the ICU Quiet Room. She described her fears that the Phillipses would remove Mindy against medical advice, her hopes that the situation would not escalate uncontrollably.

Her most important testimony centered on the conversation that she had held with Steve Phillips about the relationship between Tia’s condition and Mindy’s.

“There was a conference with the parents and Miss Jameson, and after the meeting, Mrs. Phillips and Miss Jameson started into ICU and Mr. Phillips and I were standing in the hall and he asked me, ‘Is this what Tia had?’ And I answered, ‘The two cases are just the same,’” Evelyn testified.

Steve, in his seat by Priscilla, looked astounded. Priscilla turned to stare at him and he returned a baffled frown. At first he could not remember asking Dr. Callas that question; later, when he recalled the conversation and recognized the misunderstanding, it was too late: the damage had been done. Dr. Callas’s testimony made it appear that he was willing to link Tia’s illness with Mindy’s contaminated formula, but that was not the truth. He had meant only that if Tia’s high sodium had been attributed to the normal consequences of diarrhea, why couldn’t Mindy’s?

By Steve’s side, Priscilla penned a quick note and passed it up to Ed Caldwell.

On cross-examination, Caldwell’s first question reflected Priscilla’s observation. “Did you ever tell Detective Lindquist about Mr. Phillips’s remark in the hall?”

“I’m not certain.”

“Why didn’t it come out in the preliminary?”

“I was never asked any questions in reference to it.”

“Have you ever related that conversation to anybody else before testifying in this courtroom—other than Mr. Thomas?”

“Yes. Other people know, including Dr. Shimoda,” Evelyn answered evenly. “It was the strongest statement made that weekend. It was the only time Tia’s name was mentioned to me. I am sure I told Dr. Shimoda because I had very strong feelings about the question.”

“Prior to February twenty-fifth, did you ever bring up to the Phillipses the similarities between Mindy’s situation and Tia’s?”

“No, I did not.”

“Thank you, Dr. Callas.”

The following day, Josh Thomas recalled Sara Shimoda in an effort to rebut portions of Dr. Alice Eaton’s testimony concerning her treatment of Sarah Wrigley. Josh had given Sara the transcript of Dr. Eaton’s testimony and asked her to study it, and Sara had come up with several points.

“Dr. Eaton says she treated Mindy on six different occasions with Streptomycin,” she told Josh.

“And—?”

“And Streptomycin is not used in pediatrics anymore. I have never had occasion to use it. In fact the only time I have ever seen it used is to treat tuberculous meningitis. The drug is highly toxic to the nerve that’s involved in hearing and balance.”

“Could it have caused Mindy’s ataxia?”

“Maybe. In any case, it’s certainly not the drug of choice—to say the least—when dealing with minor respiratory infections or ear infections. It’s like killing a bug with a cannon.”

On the stand, Sara discussed this issue and raised another. According to her records, Dr. Eaton had removed Sarah from Phenobarbital abruptly, whereas a gradual decrease in dosage over a period of about a month was the advisable procedure, Sara said.

On cross-examination, Al Collins tried to establish that Dr. Eaton had not acted incorrectly.

“Streptomycin has not been ruled by the FDA as unsafe to use, has it, Doctor?”

“No.”

“Isn’t it true that most drugs have side effects?”

“Yes.”

“Can CMV affect balance?”

“Not to my knowledge.”

He tried an alternate approach. “Is cerebral palsy on occasion a result of CMV?”

“No.”

“What correlation or connection would you state exists between the two?”

“I don’t think anybody could make a direct correlation between the two. They are two different entities.”

Finally, Collins hit upon a winner. “Can cerebral palsy cause unsteadiness?”

“Yes,” Sara Shimoda said.

Without question, the star among Josh Thomas’s rebuttal witnesses was Mindy’s foster mother. Josh had done little to prepare Mrs. Portillo for court. He agreed with Ted that she was a natural witness: calm, straightforward, a comfortable grandmother to whom Catholic Social Service had entrusted numerous children over the years.

Under Josh’s gentle questioning, she told her story to the jury.

“Mindy was in my custody from March third to July eighteenth of last year. I never noticed any blueness while she was with me. She didn’t vomit or have diarrhea or convulsions. She was walking when she left.”

“Did she ever have temper tantrums?”

“No. But if anyone said, ‘No, no’ to her she’d kind of pout and cry. We didn’t dare say ‘No, no’ too often,” she added engagingly.

“Did you ever take her to the doctor?”

“Yes, to Dr. Hardy once for a sore throat.”

“Did she cry when she saw doctors or nurses?”

“Yes. But mine have always cried when I took them to the doctor.”

“Was there ever a time when you were waiting in the Waiting Room for the doctor when Mindy had loose stools?”

“Yes. Once we had to take her for a checkup, and I had given her a little Milk of Magnesia because she was going hard the day before, which I had forgotten. While we were waiting, her bowels moved, but it wasn’t diarrhea.”

“Did Mindy ever wear a helmet while she was with you?”

“No.”

Josh had asked Mrs. Portillo to bring some photographs of Mindy that she had taken at her house, and these were entered as evidence. Then the district attorney singled one out.

“There is a plaque in this photograph you’ve brought, Mrs. Portillo. What is that plaque?”

“It is the Last Supper,” she said.

“Thank you, Mrs. Portillo.”

“Mr. Caldwell?” the judge asked. Ed paused. He was afraid a cross-examination might turn the jury against him and damage the case even more than this witness already had. He knew Mrs. Portillo had made a strong contrast to Pat Wrigley; she was not only an older woman, but on crutches. He did not want to antagonize the jury by badgering her.

“No questions, your Honor,” he finally said, taking a step he would later regret. Josh looked at Ted and smiled.

On Tuesday, Jim Hutchison was asked to appear in the judge’s chambers to discuss his upcoming testimony. Jim had been approached by both sides in the case to appear as a witness, and for a long time he had hedged. Finally, Ted Lindquist had cornered him in a bowling alley and handed him a subpoena.

 “I don’t think I can help you much,” Jim had said to Ted. “There is a penitential relationship after all.”

That was only one of the factors in this increasingly uncomfortable relationship. Jim had come to terms with one thing: he believed that Priscilla was capable of committing the crimes. But this did not relieve him of his responsibility. He remained her pastor and he believed his duty was to support her. But given his feelings, this was difficult. It was an increasing struggle to hide what he felt. To further complicate their relationship, he knew that Priscilla and Steve both had learned of his involvement with the police after her arrest,

Priscilla had read Lindquist’s report of his interview with Hutchison. And Steve, in particular, had taken that interview as a betrayal. Still, Priscilla had continued to solicit Jim’s support and advice, and he knew his absence from their house had hurt her.

Finally Jim had decided to let the court make the decision. He had suggested in church that his parishioners do likewise since the congregation was deeply upset and divided over the case. Priscilla’s supporters were both legion and vociferous. But there were perhaps just as many who could not abide Priscilla in their midst, who resented the way she walked around pretending her life was unchanged.

“I’m not guilty. Why should I behave as though I am?” she had said to Jim and to others.

In the judge’s chambers it was decided that the confidentiality of penitential communication was not in force when a third person was present. Jim Hutchison could testify to conversations that had taken place at Kaiser-San Rafael on February twenty-sixth in the presence of both Priscilla and Steve Phillips.

As it turned out, however, Jim’s testimony was uneventful. There were more objections on various issues other than his testimony. Jim described Priscilla’s uncontrollable weeping on the occasion of their meeting in the ICU Quiet Room. He went on to mention Priscilla’s fears that people would believe Dr. Callas’s inferences about Mindy’s illness. But he left the stand feeling that he had neither hurt Priscilla nor helped her with his testimony, and that this was all to the best. Priscilla had given him a tremulous smile as he left.

Since Judge Burke was attending a conference in Williamsburg on Thursday and Friday, the last day of the week’s testimony was changed to Wednesday. Most of the day was given over to
in camera,
or private discussions on three issues: first, the admissibility of a witness Josh Thomas wanted to call; next, Dr. Blinder’s credentials—which had been questioned by Dr. Chaffin—and finally, the admissibility of Satten’s tapes.

Josh wanted to call Marcine Johnson, who was the Kaiser psychologist Priscilla had visited in 1969, when—pregnant with Erik—she was afraid that her arguments with Steve would harm her baby. Ed adamantly opposed allowing the witness to testify, and the judge, deciding that the testimony was too remote in time and in scope, agreed with him, so Dr. Johnson was excused.

“Your Honor, I had Detective Lindquist verify that Dr. Blinder held the title of supervising psychiatrist for the private inpatient psychiatric service at the University of California, and that his duties were to perform the function of instructor and administrator to the staff of the inpatient psychiatric service. He held this position from October 1967 to October 1968. The hospital involved was Moffitt Hospital at the University of California,” Josh then told the judge.

“I will stipulate to that,” said Caldwell.

“I want it read to the jury,” Josh insisted.

“Agreed,” Caldwell said. “It looks like there was some semantic confusion about Langley Porter and Moffitt Hospital. I guess both are connected with UC Med Center,” he added in explanation of his witness’s contradictory testimony.

“Yeah—it’s confusing,” Thomas agreed.

The issue of Satten’s tapes could not be decided. Judge Burke had listened to them and felt that there was a considerable amount of material that would be prejudicial—negative comments about the attorneys and the judge, in particular—and that the tapes should be laundered before presentation to the district attorney.

“Your concern is the issue of Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy,” he told Josh. “Anything else is extraneous and will be removed from your copy of the transcript of the tapes.”

“All right, Your Honor,” Josh took defeat with a wry smile. The judge and attorneys then returned to open court.

The last witness of the trial was an Aldersgate parishioner named Beverly Smith. Josh called her to testify to the numerous times Tia’s name had been mentioned in church and the extent to which the congregation had been involved in Tia’s illness. The district attorney hoped to demonstrate Priscilla’s need for attention.

“I attended three quarters of the Sundays between late 1975 and the middle of 1977, and something about Tia was mentioned every Sunday during Tia’s hospitalization. There would be specific information given, like she was back on IV or NPO,” the nurse-practitioner testified.

“How many times did you actually talk to Priscilla Phillips during this time?” Ed Caldwell asked pointedly on cross-examination. He knew that Priscilla had attended church only five times during Tia’s eleven months of illness, and only once while Tia was hospitalized.

“I don’t remember,” Beverly Smith confessed. And on that weak note, the trail of witnesses ended.

The stipulation regarding Dr. Blinder was read to the jury and court was adjourned. All that remained were the final arguments and the jury instructions.

Week 10

On Monday, May 21, 1979, Deputy District Attorney Josh Thomas began his closing arguments. He had prepared very carefully and very thoroughly for these last moments before the jury.

“There are two issues in this case,” he began, “perhaps three, if you want to look at it that way. Number one: Were Tia’s symptoms caused by sodium poisoning? Number two: Were Mindy’s? And number three: If so, was Priscilla Phillips responsible?”

Step by step, the district attorney led the jury through an elaborate rerun of the evidence that he believed provided unequivocal affirmative answers to the questions he had posed. He reminded the jury of the testimony of Dr. Malcolm Holliday and Dr. Boyd Stephens; both had stated that no explanation existed for the children’s symptoms other than an exogenous source of sodium.