Authors: Unknown
Getting a call through to Ivy at Mount Carmel was an equally urgent reason for missing lunch. She had planned to call that morning; but Bill had routed her out of the apartment too early, and the courtroom pressures of the morning session had also prevented her from doing so.
Having lost three of her dimes, Janice trudged up and down icy streets in a biting wind, seeking a telephone booth with a working phone, and finally found one in the warm and aromatic precincts of an Optimo cigar store.
The woman who answered her call was a secular teacher named Miss Halderman, or Alderman, an assistant art teacher who supervised the lower grades. Her sprightly voice informed Janice that the girls had just finished lunch and were happily engaged in preparing Sylvester for the crowning and melting ceremonies that were due to commence at four fifteen sharp. Yes, Ivy was fine; in fact, Miss Alderman could spot her through the office window - at least, the lovely blond hair seemed to be Ivy’s - in the midst of a group of girls who were helping Mr Calitri, the school custodian, pile the boxes. Did Janice want her to go fetch Ivy?
‘No, it’s all right,’ Janice said, feeling a sudden unaccountable chill in the oven-warm booth. ‘I don’t want to bother her. I just called to see how she is.’
On the walk back to the Criminal Courts Building, Janice went into a pharmacy to buy some aspirin. Her head felt light, and the chill persisted.
Inside the lobby, she stopped at a fountain and took three aspirin. As she rose from the water spout, a wave of dizziness seized her, forcing her to grab on to the porcelain basin to keep from falling. She was trembling. Uncontrollably. Dear God, what was wrong? What was happening to her? It had started after the phone call. Actually, during it. Something in their conversation. Something Miss Alderman had said caused her to suddenly feel ill. But what?
‘Dr Perez, tell me …’
Janice heard Brice Mack’s voice as if through a filter. The trembling had stopped, but the chill persisted. That, and the empty hollow feeling of encroaching doom, which seemed to be moving now at a swifter pace.
A dry cough from Bill beside her caused her to open her eyes and steal a glance at him. He seemed blessedly out of it all - eyes shut, body slumped down in his seat, totally relaxed in a deep alcoholic euphoria. She was alone. The thought struck her in a painful way. She was alone. Bill’s withdrawal into bitterness and his deepening self-absorption had made any real communication between them impossible. He had shown himself to be incapable of understanding not only her, but all that was truly happening in their lives. Yes, she was alone.
‘… and you say that Dr Vassar took you into her confidence on all of her cases, including this one?’
‘We worked very closely on every case, and especially this one.’
‘Why especially this one?’
‘Because it was unusual, unique. It defied categorizing. Dr Vassar had never before encountered such a case.’
‘And you and she discussed it at great length?’
‘At great length and in great detail.’
Brice Mack referred to a page in the notebook.
‘I want to call to your attention certain language in Dr Vassar’s notebook, Dr Perez. Certain language that requires interpretation.’
Turning slightly towards the jury, the lawyer read in a clear voice:
‘In the entry dated January 18, 1967, she says: “[the child] tries to climb over the back of a chair - and succeeds! Appears well coordinated and shows a degree of muscular coordination and skill of an older child. (Test subject’s ability to climb over chair during wakened state.)”’
Flipping to a clipped section in the notebook, he continued:
‘And in the entry dated February 20, 1967, she says, “results of chair-climbing tests during wakened state disclosed subject unable to climb over chair successfully without falling … but within dream state is able to climb over chair and appears to show much greater creative muscular skill and coordination than one would expect in a child of two and a half…”’ Mack looked up at the witness. ‘How do you interpret this observation that the child seemed “older” during her dream state?’
‘It didn’t make sense to either of us. Because a person in a somnambulistic state may enact an event that happened at an earlier time, but in that case the person would appear younger. And yet here she was, enacting some prior event in a somnambulistic state in which she appeared to be actually older.’
‘So in your discussions with Dr Vassar, what conclusions did you reach in regard to this phenomenal behaviour?’
‘We could reach none. It was completely unexplainable.’
‘Dr Perez, what do you mean by the word “unexplainable”?’
‘I mean, there was no explanation for the child’s behaviour that we could give with any degree of medical certainty.’
The lawyer hesitated. He weighed the wisdom of getting into the matter of Jungian archetypes at this point. Even though Vassar had suggested this as a possibility in her final entry, he finally decided to forgo raising the issue at all. It was possible that Dr Vassar might have been more amenable to Jungian theory than Dr Perez would be. Besides, the first rule in questioning any witness is: Never ask a question if you are not sure what the answer will be. He moved on to the next entry.
‘On April twenty-first, there is an entry which reads: “the window seems to be her main goal… the glass pane presenting a barrier of prodigious heat… the fires of hell? … attempts to approach glass unsuccessfully as heat too intense … stumbles back, falls, weeps …” Did you have discussions with Dr Vassar about this particular entry?’
‘Yes, indeed. Many discussions.’
‘Did you and she discuss the significance of this behaviour?’
‘Yes, we did.’
‘And did you come to any conclusions?’
‘We both felt there may have been a memory of an incident in which the child was trapped in some sort of enclosure and sought to escape, but the escape route was painful. So there was this contradiction of moving in a direction and being repelled by it at the same time.’
‘Were the child’s parents questioned to determine whether or not such an incident existed in the child’s past that would account for such a memory?’
‘The file indicates that the matter was discussed with the parents and with the obstetrician who delivered Ivy, but none knew of any event in the child’s past to account for such a memory.’
Assuming an air of grave concentration, Brice Mack continued in a carefully measured voice. ‘Dr Perez, assume that a child was trapped in a burning automobile, but the windows were closed and the fire blocked the avenue of escape. Do you have a medical opinion as to whether this set of circumstances might produce a similar reaction to the one you observed in the case of Ivy Templeton?’
‘Yes, conceivably, that would account for such behaviour.’
‘And to your knowledge, the patient, Ivy Templeton, had no history of having suffered the experience of being trapped in a burning automobile?’
‘Yes, that’s correct.’
Brice Mack turned to the prosecutor.
‘Cross-examine.’
Scott Velie rose with exaggerated slowness. His voice seemed tired, his manner sleepy.
He said, ‘As I understand it, you joined the Park East Clinic in 1966, is that right?’
‘Yes.’
‘The same year that the parents of Ivy Templeton sought help for their child?’
‘Yes, it was in 1966.’
‘What month did you arrive at the clinic?’
‘It was in November.’
‘Early November? Late November?’
‘It was after Thanksgiving.’
‘I see.’ Velie pondered this a moment. ‘So that, in actuality, you commenced your internship only a few weeks before Ivy Templeton became a patient of Dr Vassar’s?’
‘Yes.’
‘And yet new as you were to the psychiatric profession, you maintain that Dr Vassar took you into her complete confidence on a case so unusual and unique that it defied categorizing?’
Dr Perez licked his lips.
‘Yes, that is correct.’
‘Is it customary in the psychiatric field for psychiatrists to consult with their interns on cases of behaviour so complex as to be, and I quote you, “unexplainable with any medical certainty”?’
‘Dr Vassar did so,’ Perez answered simply. ‘She was a remarkable woman.’
‘Well, how much did you actually participate with her on this case?’
‘As I said before, we worked together very closely on it.’
‘How?’
‘After each session we would review the substance of what happened and what was said and discuss it.’
‘And together arrive at conclusions?’
‘Sometimes, when it was possible to do so.’
‘Did you sit in on these sessions with the child?’
‘No.’
‘Were you with her at the apartment?’
‘No.’
‘Did you ever observe the child during one of her nightmares?’
‘No.’
‘Therefore you relied on what Dr Vassar told you she had observed?’
‘Yes.’ ‘
‘Then, when you say you came to conclusions with her, you’re basing your conclusions only on what Dr Vassar told you she heard or saw?’
‘Yes.’
The district attorney studied some notes and, after the full impact of his witness’ testimony had been absorbed by the jury, renewed his questioning.
‘Tell me, Doctor, this matter of the child “appearing” older during her seizures, of performing functions and displaying greater muscular skill and coordination than a child her age normally would - is there not a circumstance under which such behaviour may be seen to occur, a circumstance which you as a psychiatrist should be quite familiar with?’
Seeing the perplexed look on the witness’ face, Velie went on, helpfully: ‘Is not hypnosis a fairly commonplace psychiatric tool in usage today among people in your profession?’
‘Well, yes’
‘And is it not true that under a hypnotic trance a subject may be induced by suggestion to perform physical feats well beyond his normal capabilities during the wakened state?’
‘Yes, but’
‘Thank you,’ Velie interrupted. ‘You have answered my question.’
Brice Mack was watching the district attorney like a hawk, ready to strike, ready to ask Judge Langley to instruct Mr Velie to permit the witness to give his questions the deliberate and careful consideration the jury required of an expert witness, but he held back, allowing the prosecutor to pluck half answers from the witness and preferring to await his own moment on redirect to fully explore the issues being raised.
Velie, meanwhile, had picked up Dr Vassar’s notebook and was flipping through its pages.
‘Turning now to the matter of the child’s groping motions towards the window …’ He found the entry he was looking for. ‘ “… the window seems to be her main goal … the glass pane presenting a barrier of prodigious heat… stumbles back, falls, weeps…” and so forth. I put it to you, Dr Perez, isn’t it conceivable that if someone is trapped in a building during a blizzard and is seeking to escape through that window but is unable to touch it because the window was so cold as to hurt his hand, that this, too, might account for the kind of behaviour described here by Dr Vassar?’
‘Well, you see …’
‘I’m only after a simple yes or no. Is it or is it not possible?’
Well, it’s possible …’
‘Thank you.’ Velie flipped to the back of the book. ‘This final entry of Dr Vassar’s, which, by the way’ - Velie’s voice became pointed - ‘counsel for the defence seemed disposed to bypass, deals with Dr Jung’s archetypes as a possible answer to account for the child’s behaviour. What is the significance of her reference to Dr Jung’s archetypes, Dr Perez?’
Doctor Perez took his time about answering.
‘It would be hard for me to say. I don’t really subscribe to that theory myself.’
‘The theory being?’
‘The theory she refers to is one that suggests that there is, within the human mind, the capacity to have memory of events that a person had not experienced. Events that are experiences of the human race, but not experiences of the individual. Dr Vassar, because she studied at the Burgholzli, probably was influenced by Jungian theory and may have reached for that conclusion. Dr Vassar was not herself actually a Jungian, but it may have been her only way to explain this behaviour, since there is no way to explain the reenactment of events a person had not experienced in life unless, of course, you believe in reincarnation.’
There, it was said, Janice thought. For the first time that day, the word was actually said. And strangely, the first to bring it up was the man of science.
‘In your opinion, does Jungian theory extend towards reincarnation?’
‘No, I don’t think so. What I think Jung believed was that the experience of generations of prior individuals created a kind of inheritance of memory. Just as earlier experiences leave genetic traces physically, he believed they left genetic traces on the memory. But I don’t think he believed that individuals literally had a prior existence.’
‘What do you believe, Dr Perez?’
What?’
‘Do you believe in reincarnation?’
A startled laugh escaped from the witness.
‘No, he said. ‘I do not.’
Brice Mack’s confident smile successfully shielded the concern he felt at hearing the tenor of Perez’s answer and noting the jurors’ smiling faces. Still, there would be moments of high drama aplenty soon to come, he was certain, that would bring the jury back to his table.
Velie continued.
‘Dr Perez, are there many people in the world today, to your knowledge, who believe in the supernatural?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘From a psychiatrist’s point of view, what is the basis of this belief in the supernatural?’
‘Well,’ Perez said soberly, ‘we are most of us terrified at the thought of death, the sense of finality of death. And if one is religious, one may avoid accepting death as final by believing in afterlife. But the fear of death and the fear of not existing lead many people to try to find something that will give them a feeling of continuity. That is one aspect. Another aspect is that there is so much about human behaviour that is mysterious, uncxplainable, that presumably has some rational explanation, but that we can’t explain now. And people, just by the nature of human curiosity, are driven to try to find explanations for things that are mysterious and supernatural to them. But I as a scientist assume there is no such thing as the supernatural, only things about nature we as yet do not know.’