The previous day the judge had been all too happy to postpone listening to the witnesses after the two lawyers had given their speeches. Colón's, while far shorter and less outrageous than the woman's, had still taken about fifteen minutes and had tried the patience of everyone nearly as much. In the end, the man on the podium had cleared his throat, bade them farewell and exited the room swiftly.
Spencer and the team had gone to Rossi's feeling hollow and more tired than ever. The genius then had fallen asleep in his designated room and slept for twelve hours straight.
Now they were in the courtroom again, and despite not feeling ready to face another day of torment just yet, Reid knew he didn't have any other choice. It was happening whether he wanted it or not.
BAU * BAU * BAU * BAU * BAU * BAU * BAU * BAU * BAU
"Mr. Reid, can you please tell us about your son a bit? So that we can all understand what kind of child he used to be and what he's like as a young adult." – The attorney asked smoothly, flashing her too-white teeth and too-wide smile.
To Spencer, she looked like those fake bikini models on the beach who always appeared to be more mythical than human and more frightening than appealing.
His father pointedly avoided eye-contact with him and with the entire team all the time he spoke, addressing only his lawyer. 'So, who has trouble meeting other people's eyes now!? Who might I have this habit from, I wonder.' – Spencer thought sarcastically.
"My son… He was already a strange baby." – He began slowly, as if a bit uncertainly.
"Can you elaborate that a bit, please?"
"Yes… Well, he never cried. I mean, really… It was disturbing. We never knew if he was hungry or cold or tired… He just watched us with those huge, attentive eyes as if he was trying to figure us out. I must say, it was creepy; like he was judging us, trying to decide if we were worthy of being his parents."
"Did you talk about that with any doctors back then?"
Mr. Reid shook his head.
"His mother insisted it was fine. I was unsure… She never listened to me. She claimed I should spend more time with him, try to get to know him better, you know? I… I admit it was hard. How do you get to know a baby that doesn't even act like a normal newborn!?"
Colón jumped up.
"Objection, your Honor! The witness is not an expert on babies' behavior and as such, shouldn't make assumptions like that."
"Sustained. Mr. Reid, stay objective and tell your story without drawing conclusions."
Spencer was mortified to see his father actually blush at the reprimand but his lawyer didn't seem bothered. And rightly so, since the damage was already done: he could feel jurors number 2, 7 and 11 watching him intently as if trying to imagine him as an abnormal and potentially dangerous infant; an alien amongst humans. Someone like ET.
It was his time to blush; like father like son.
"So, when did you finally decide to talk to a professional? Because later, you did, didn't you?"
"When he was about two years old. Coming home from work, I found him perched on the couch one evening, holding War and Peace. When I asked what he was doing, he claimed he was reading it! His mother told me he loved literature and didn't find anything odd about it. Come on, he was two, for God's sake!"
"So, you talked to a doctor after that?"
"Objection! It's a leading question!"
"I'll rephrase it, your Honor: Did you talk to a doctor after that, Mr. Reid?"
"A psychiatrist. Diana – his mother – didn't know about it back then. I looked up Doctor Moss on the internet. She's an expert…" – He emphasized the word and directed it at Colón. As an attorney himself, albeit one who only tried criminal cases, Spencer's father knew exactly what effect his words could have on the jury and how to carefully choose his expressions. – "… I made an appointment, went to her and told her everything I'd experienced with Spencer."
"And what did she say?"
"She confirmed what I'd already suspected: that he was most likely a genius. But she also warned me that most geniuses had difficulties with everyday life and a lot of them were severely autistic. She told me to watch out for signs and pay attention to the behavioral patterns."
"Is that so..." – There was a pause during which Blight gave a meaningful look toward the by now visibly interested jury, letting the words sink in. Spencer fought the desire to punch his father and the attorney in the face. – "Can you share more examples with us, please?"
Mr. Reid nodded.
"Of course. I won't repeat the stories you've already told but they're all true. I also have more. For example, when he was five and attending sixth grade, he came home one day from school with a shiner and dark bruises. He didn't want to tell us what had happened so Diana and I went in to talk with his teacher. She confessed he'd been beaten by his classmates. And that it wasn't the first time either."
Colón jumped up again.
"Objection! Just how is this my client's fault!?"
The judge raised his eyebrow.
"Ms. Blight?"
"We're getting there, your Honor."
"I'll allow it but I suggest you do not make me regret the decision. Overruled! Continue, please."
"Like I was saying, it turned out he was being abused regularly by his much older classmates and had never told anyone. His teacher only found out about it that very day; at least, that's what she claimed; and said she couldn't do anything about it. They were hurting my son because he was weird."
"What does 'weird' mean?"
By now, Spencer's cheeks were burning with shame and he had tears in his eyes. But he refused to let them fall. He wouldn't cry in front of so many people watching him, assessing his every reaction. He'd wait until the day would be over and he'd be alone with his real family. He could do it. He had to… He just wished it wasn't so damn difficult to keep his emotions under control!
"Well, my understanding is that he refused to participate in sports at all. He didn't talk with them about anything. He just sat alone, reading his books, keeping to himself. And he knew all the answers to every question ever asked of him while others struggled to keep up. It angered them."
"And that means what exactly?"
"That means he's antisocial. A common trait of an autistic person."
"Objection!" – Benny shouted again, face looking red from anger. – "Mr. Reid still isn't an expert to make such assessments!"
Before the judge could say anything, Spencer's father shouted back:
"I'm repeating what Doctor Moss said! And we had a good reason to be worried: Diana is also a genius, and she's schizophrenic. It is hereditary!"
"Objection again! He hasn't even been talking about schizophrenia but autism before! That's misleading; they're not the same!"
"No, but they're both mental disorders and-"
"Order in the courtroom!" – The judge bellowed. – "Sustained. The jury will please disregard every statement made since the last question. Continue but I'm warning you, Ms. Blight: my patience is wearing thin."
With the last question about what they'd done with the little boy after this incident, to which his father replied that they'd put him up to seventh grade so that maybe he'd be more academically challenged there, the judge ordered twenty minutes recess before cross and stomped out angrily again. As for Spencer, he broke his own promise to himself when he dashed into the restroom and burst into tears there.
BAU * BAU * BAU * BAU * BAU * BAU * BAU * BAU * BAU
"So, Mr. Reid, you've talked about this Doctor Moss who gave you tips what to look out for. According to you, she was the reason you've started worrying more about your son, isn't that right?"
"Yes, because, contrary to me, she is an expert and she said there was a lot to worry about. Of course I believed her; it all made sense."
"All right. So, did this Doctor Moss ever meet Spencer as a child?"
William looked down into his lap, swallowing uncomfortably.
"No, she didn't" – He admitted.
"Has she seen him ever?" – A hesitant shake of head. – "Mr. Reid, you'll need to speak up for the record."
"No, she hasn't."
"I see. Do you think it's normal for any professional to give an expert opinion on a subject they've never examined themselves?"
"Objection! It's not for the witness to give his opinion about what a professional is or isn't supposed to do!" – The lawyer protested.
"Withdrawn. Mr. Reid, for how long were you in contact with Doctor Moss?"
"I talked to her regularly until Spencer was 8."
"And why did you stop consulting her after that?" – William seemed mildly uncomfortable again as he fidgeted in his seat and looked toward his attorney as if asking for help. – "Answer, please. She can't do it for you."
The judge nodded in agreement.
"Mr. Reid, you need to answer the question."
"Because… khm… I didn't continue talking to her… 'cause… well… herlicensewasrevoked…"
"Sorry, what was that?"
"Her license was revoked." – William said finally.
"By whom and why did that happen?"
"Objection! How should the witness know that-?"
"Your Honor, this is important because Mr. Reid claims he knows his son is autistic because this doctor told him that. We should know why she's not allowed to practice anymore as an expert!"
The judge only thought about it for a moment, before calling:
"Overruled! I'll allow the question. Mr. Reid?"
"I… don't know. I never asked. She just disappeared one day." – For Spencer, and probably the entire BAU team, it was evident William was lying. But he did it good, without remorse or shame, so the genius wasn't sure the judge and/or the jury had caught it.
Benny Colón regarded the man for a few seconds silently, before stepping to the desk and pulling a paper from his bag sitting on it.
"Your Honor, if I may?" – He held up the document and waited for the judge's approval before continuing. – "This is the official statement of the State Board; it just arrived by fax during recess. They claim they withdrew Doctor Moss' license August 1990 after a warning had been issued without avail, because she repeatedly violated the Code of Ethics of The American Psychological Association. According to the Board, she habitually gave out prescriptions for the right price without even making sure the patient needed the meds or if they were for the patient at all. These were strong sedatives; considered narcotics. Sometimes she did it without even meeting said patient. She also gave expert opinions for a set fare for court and as such, regularly purposely misdiagnosed children so that her contractor would win the case. There have been criminal trials in these matters. I'd like to enter this document as evidence Your Honor."
"Objection! I haven't been able to examine that statement!"
"Then, for all means, come here, Ms. Blight and examine it. I'll allow the evidence. Objection overruled. Proceed, Mr. Colón."
Hiding a satisfied grin at the lawyer's horrified expression, Benny Colón continued:
"Mr. Reid. We've been able to listen to some very… detailed… stories about my client as a small child. But not a single one about him as a pre-teen, a teenager or the young adult he is now, even though your attorney claimed we'd be able to get a full picture about him from your statement. So, please, tell me this: why don't you have any stories about your son since the age of 10?"
For the first time since the trial had started, William glanced towards his son, if only for a millisecond.
"Because, when my son was 10 years old, I moved out." – He whispered barely audibly.
"So, you left your family in 1991 if I understand correctly."
"I believe it was actually sometime late February 1992. But yes. I left my family."
No. It was Saturday, March, 16th, about 9:15 AM. Spencer remembered the day vividly; apparently, it hadn't been as important a date for his father though.
"May I inquire why?" – Silence. – "Mr. Reid?"
"Objection, Your Honor. Relevance?"
"Your Honor, of course it has relevance! The plaintiff left his son when he was 10, never to look back, and now he claims to want to take care of him as his guardian! Shouldn't we know the reason he didn't want to take care of him when he was a child and actually needed a parent?"
The judge contemplated William, then Spencer, then William again.
"Mr. Reid, do you believe that your leaving your family has anything to do with why we're here today?"
"No, your honor… I don't believe it has…"
"Sustained then. Move on to the next question, Mr. Colón."
"All right, Mr. Reid. Let's forget about motivations and answer me this: did you keep in touch with your son after you left in 1992?"
"It's not so simple because-"
"A yes or no will do, thank you."
William gritted his teeth so hard Spencer thought he'd surely lose two or three by the time they'd be finished for the day.
"No."
"Did you, in any way, support your family after you moved out?"
"I left them the house. I didn't take anything except for my most personal belongings. I-"
"Yes or no, Mr. Reid?"
"No."
"Did you know when you left that your ex-wife was schizophrenic and not suited to care for a child alone? That she wouldn't be able to work or even go to parents' meetings?"
"I believed-" – Benny cleared his throat, reminding Mr. Reid to give a simple affirmative or negative instead of a detailed explanation. – "Yes. I knew."
"And you left them anyway, with no support and no contact whatsoever. Interesting."
Jurors number 1, 3, 4 and 12 glared daggers at William by that point while number 10 and 11 conversed animatedly among themselves until the judge reminded them to keep quiet and not to discuss the case.
"Objection! Mr. Colón's opinion on the matter is of no relevance in this case."
"Withdrawn. Let's get back to your previous statement. You said your son was abused by his classmates in sixth grade." – In all grades, actually, Spencer thought. Of course, his father wouldn't know about that. – "You also said it was because he didn't participate in sports or other activities with his classmates, causing him to be labeled as 'antisocial'. Is that right?"
"Yes."
"Mr. Reid: wasn't your son 5 years old at that time, while his classmates were about 12?"
"I guess…"
"Do you think it's expected of a five-year-old to be able to socialize with children over twice his age? Or of a twelve-year-old to know how to behave around a small child that's smarter than them?"
"Ahm…"
"Did your son have company of his own age?"
William hung his head in shame.
"No."
"Did your son have company at all?"
"No."
"One last question: Mr. Reid, do you believe that being lonely because of the mentioned circumstances; or actually because of any circumstance at all; automatically makes one autistic?"
"Ahm… I… don't really know…"
"Don't you think if that were the official definition of autism then every one of us would be labeled as such?"
"Obj-"
"Withdrawn. No more questions."
