Page 114 of Precise Justice

FORTY-THREE

Maddy walked meekly into the administrative offices of the University of Minnesota Medical School. Her aim was to appear as non-threatening as possible. In the past, serving a subpoena, she had learned that some people would become quite hostile. Better to come in soft.

There was what Maddy believed to be a student working as a receptionist. Maddy guessed her age to be, maybe at most, twenty.

“Hi, um, I was wondering if I could speak to whoever is in charge of record keeping for doctors and professors,” Maddy said to the girl whose name plate identified her as Bonnie.

“Oh, I guess so. That would be Dale, Dale Mathison. May I ask what this is about? He’ll want to know,” she answered.

“Oh, gosh, um, well, I ah, I would prefer to discuss it with him,” Maddy said.

“That’s okay, I know what to tell him to get him out here,” Bonnie said.

Her headset in place, she dialed her boss. “Dale, there’s a woman out here needs to talk to you.”

“I’m busy, what does she want?” Dale replied.

“She won’t say. Dale, she’s a twelve, at least,” Bonnie said then hung up.

“He’ll be right out,” she told Maddy.

Before Maddy could sit down, a balding, pudgy man with bad taste in ties was there.

“May I help you?” he asked Maddy with a huge smile.

“Yes, you can,” Maddy replied, now all business and quite serious.

She stepped forward and handed him a two-page document folded into thirds. He opened and saw the words, Subpoena Duces Tecum as the title. The second page listed the items being subpoenaed.

“What? What is this? A subpoena? You want confidential patient records? I can’t…”

“No, at least not yet. I’m here on behalf of the attorney representing the young woman accused of murdering Phillip Friedman,” Maddy said.

Dale was caught between staring open-mouthed at Maddy and glancing at the subpoena. The young receptionist had wheeled her chair back as far as the cord of her headset allowed.

“I can’t give you that. I won’t give you…”

“We want any and all threatening correspondence, of any kind, ever sent to Dr. Phillip Friedman. We don’t want medical records although we might in the future.”

“Well, I won’t do it,” Dale tried again.

“Then we’ll haul your ass into court and put you in jail.”

Maddy had a notebook and pen in her hands when she asked, “How do you spell your last name?”

“I’m not sure I’m going to tell…”

“M-a-t-h-i-s,” the receptionist said.

“If you retaliate against her now, I’ll come after you,” Maddy said.

By now Dale’s face was red and Maddy expected steam to come out of his ears. She turned to leave then looked back and said, “One last thing, get rid of the tie and polyester pants. They went out with disco.”

Maddy’s next stop was the corporate office of the Hennepin-Ramsey Medical Clinics. This was the employer of Robbie’s surgeon, Dr. Walter Miller. Here, the woman in charge, Teresa Mills, was used to receiving subpoenas for various things. She read the document request on the subpoena while Maddy waited.

As Teresa read, she told Maddy, “I’ve been expecting you.”

Teresa looked up and said, “I pulled that file a week ago. It’s on my desk. If you don’t mind waiting a few minutes, I’ll make copies myself.”