Beth’s jaw dropped. “Prison?”
Just then, the door to the room opened and a hospital security guard crammed himself inside, followed by a bailiff who was easily seventy and another man who changed the entire tone in the room. Immediately, both lawyers stood a little straighter. The cop put his hand on his weapon and wedged himself between Beth and the judge; the other security guard pushed Mandy further away from Beth to clear a path. “She’s not Charlie Manson,” Mandy murmured.
“All rise,” the bailiff announced, and Beth looked down at her legs in the hospital bed. “The Honorable Judge Pinot of the Third Circuit Judicial District Court.”
The prosecutor offered Pinot an oily smile. “Your Honor,” he said. “Did I hear that you shot under eighty last week at the country club?”
“None of your damn business, Cork,” the judge muttered. “I hate hospital arraignments.” He stared down at the only chair in the room, which was occupied by the stenographer. “Is there not another seat?”
“There isn’t much room in here,” the bailiff said.
“Maybe we make some by getting rid of what’s extraneous. Starting with you.”
“But, Your Honor,” the bailiff insisted. “I’m here to protect you.”
Beth wondered what they thought she was going to be able to do, chained to the hospital bed. The hospital security guard got a swivel chair from somewhere and crammed it into the room, which pushed Mandy evenfurtheraway from Beth.
“For the love of all that’s holy,” Judge Pinot said, “are weready?”
Beth wondered if anyone would be brave enough to point out that he was the cause of the delay. But no.
“Yes, we’re ready, Your Honor,” Mandy said.
“Indeed,” the prosecutor said.
The judge slipped on a pair of reading glasses and read the complaint out loud. Beth’s name wasn’t part of it, just her initials.
“Do you understand what’s going on here today?” the judge asked.
Beth shook her head.
“This proceeding is being recorded, ma’am,” the judge prompted. “You need to answer the question audibly.”
“Not really,” she murmured.
“Well, pursuant to Mississippi Code section 97-3-37, section 1, and Mississippi Code section 97-3-19, section D, you’re being charged with homicide for intentionally causing the death of a child in utero. Under our state law, murder is defined as the killing of a human being without the authority of law when done with deliberate design to effect the death of the person killed. Also under our state law, the termhuman beingincludes an unborn child in every stage of gestation, from conception to live birth. The charge is punishable by imprisonment for not more than twenty years or a fine of not more than seventy-five hundred dollars or both, because your conduct resulted in the miscarriage of that child.”
Twenty years?thought Beth.Seventy-five hundred dollars?Both numbers were incomprehensible.
“The only miscarriage here, Your Honor, is a miscarriage of justice,” Mandy interrupted.
He leveled a glance at her. “I do suggest you watch yourself, Miz DuVille.” To Beth he added, “How do you plead?”
“I can explain—”
“No,” Mandy instructed. “Beth, I know you have things to say, but don’t tell them to anyone but me. I can keep what you tell me private. They can’t. All you have to do now is say guilty or not guilty.”
“Not guilty,” she whispered.
“Where are the parents? Who brought her here?” the judge asked.
Beth waited for someone to ask her; they were acting like she wasn’t even there. “Damned if I know,” Willie Cork said.
“Your bail recommendation, Counselor?”
“Given the serious nature of this violent crime against a voiceless, unborn child, and given the grave indifference that the perpetrator seems to show, I would request that she be held without bail pending trial.”
“You bastard,” Mandy muttered.
