LATER AT THE NURSE’S DESK

Nurse Gordon sees Sarah leaving for the day and calls after her.

“Sarah! I wanted you to know I spoke to Dr. Patterson. The dosage was changed to 10 mg. You made the right call!”

Sarah looks embarrassed. “It wasn't really me that caught the mistake. It was our amnesia patient. He overheard the doctor changing the prescription and insisted I check it. I wasn't going too, but he was very insistent.”

“Oh!” Ruth answers in surprise. “Thanks for letting me know.” After Sarah walks out the door, she heads for John Doe's room. She finds him staring out the window deep in thought.

“John. Sarah told me you were the one who warned her about that mistake in the prescription yesterday. How did you know?”

Doe shakes his head. “I don't know. I just did.” He hesitates before continuing, “There’s something else you need to know. When I came back to my room today, I saw Dr. Patterson altering the patient’s chart.”

Ruth’s face reflects her shock at the news. She crosses over to the other bed and checks the chart. “You’re right. This chart has been altered,” she says with a worried frown.

“You have to report him. I’ll testify, if you need me to.”

Ruth looks up, surprised by the vehemence in his voice. “I appreciate that, but it won’t be necessary. I’ll handle it. Sarah can back me up.”

Doe relaxes again, then reaches up to rub his forehead. Ruth looks at him with concern. “Does your head hurt? Why don’t you lie down. You’ve had a busy day. I heard you had a very successful visit in pediatrics. The children all want you to come back. I bet you'll find you've worked with kids before.”

“I wonder,” he says, looking out the window again.

“Is something wrong?”

Doe turns to her and hestitates before speaking. “Dr. Patterson thinks I may be trying to hide from something…because I wasn't carrying any ID, because no one has inquired about anyone with my description…"

Ruth is shocked at the idea. “I think its more likely that Dr. Patterson doesn't want you talking to anyone about his own mistake in that prescription. Or about this!” she adds, holding up the chart. “If it wasn't for you, that patient could have died! Don't listen to what he said. I've watched you enough to know you're a good person.”

Cheered by her enthusiastic support, Doe smiles. “Thanks.”

LOCATION: NEW YORK CITY - TWO DAYS LATER

Ben Charnquist sits at the bar inside Webber’s Pub. Loud music and smoke fill the air, and in the background the local news is seen on the television.

“Give me another one,” he tells the bartender. He takes a drink and then looks at the television screen.

“Did they show the sports scores yet?” he asks. “I’ve got money riding on the Mets.”

“Not yet,” the bartender replies. “but they should be coming up soon. Money on the Mets? That’s one bet I think you gonna’ lose, pal.”

Charnquist throws him a nasty look and turns to listen to the news report.

“Meanwhile, local police are asking for your help to identify an unknown man brought to St. Joseph Medical Center earlier this week,” the female news announcer reports. “Here is an artist’s rendering of the unknown man.”

Charnquist looks up and is shocked to see a likeness of Richard Kimble on the TV screen. “The man, thought to be in his early 40s, was brought to the hospital after suffering a concussion. He has no identification and the hospital is asking for your help to locate his family. If you have any information, please call 555-3687.”

Charnquist hastily gulps the last of his drink. Throwing some money down on the bar, he leaves without a backward glance.

NEXT DAY, EARLY MORNING

Ruth is browsing through the morning paper as she spreads cream cheese on her breakfast bagel. She pauses at the headline – “KIMBLE TRIAL RE-ENACTED” and reads the beginning of the article.

A mock trial of the People vs. Richard Kimble will be reenacted this coming Monday at 9 AM at MacNaughton Hall on the campus of the Syracuse Law School.

Dr. Kimble was convicted in 1999 of the murder of his wife, Helen Ross Kimble. Dr. Kimble maintained his innocence throughout the trial, claiming he returned home one evening to find a one-armed man in his apartment and his wife brutally beaten. Kimble testified he fought with the intruder but he escaped while Kimble went to the aid of his wife. Police reports contradicted his claims, showing no evidence of an intruder or a break-in in the apartment the night of the murder. Mrs. Kimble, daughter of the wealthy business mogul Matthew Ross, had recently inherited $20 million from her mother’s trust fund.

While being transported to Joliet State Prison’s Death Row, Dr. Kimble escaped after the van he was riding in was forced off the highway during a freak ice storm. He remains at large, wanted for murder and interstate flight.

Simulated jury trials are a regular part of the Law School’s trial practice courses, which concentrate on the communicative aspects of litigation, including jury selection, expert witness examination, direct and cross-examination, and summation, culminating in simulated jury trials, where students demonstrate skills learned during the semester.

The public is invited to attend.

Ruth lowers the paper thoughtfully as she recalls John Doe's nightmares about a one-armed man and his obvious medical knowledge. She scans the article again attentively.

“Helen!” She reaches for a scissors and clips the story from the paper, quickly pushing it in her pocket as she grabs her coat and heads out the door with a look of confusion on her face.

HOSPITAL ENTRANCE - ONE HOUR LATER

Ben Charnquist walks through the revolving doors and up to the main desk.

“I’m here to see a friend of mine,” he says. “He came in earlier this week. Poor guy has amnesia.”

“You must mean our John Doe. Are you a relative?” the nurse asks.

“He and I are very close,” Charnquist says with an evil smile.

“Your friend’s on the third floor, room 307,” the nurse says, checking her computer records. “He’ll be happy to see you.”

ROOM 307

Doe is packing his few belongings, ready to leave the hospital. He stares at a battered passport, then slips it in his pocket as Ruth walks in.

“You're leaving?”

“Dr. Patterson feels there's nothing more he can do. I'll just have to wait and see. But I've remembered some important things. I know I'm a doctor. I remember doing surgery on a six-year old boy, a bleeder, and taking out someone’s spleen. I also remember my wife. Helen. She's beautiful and I love her very much. She must be worried about me. I have to find her.”

Ruth stares at him, uncertain what to say. “We need to talk.”

Doe looks at Ruth, puzzled. A movement outside his door catches his attention and he turns to see Ben Charnquist walking toward him. His face turns pale as memories of the night Helen died come surging back.

Overcome with anger, he leaps over the bed to tackle a startled Charnquist to the floor. He calls over to Ruth, “Call the police!”

[

Charnquist and Kimble are still grappling on the floor. Charnquist is shocked to hear Kimble asking for the police. A shiver of fear passes through him as he realizes he is facing someone he no longer understands. He desperately kicks his assailant in the side and scrambles to his feet to flee down the hall. Kimble stumbles to his feet and chases after him.

Dr. Patterson comes out into the hallway as the two run past. He stares at Charnquist's obvious prosthetic arm and suddenly realizes the identity of John Doe. Spotting Ruth in the hallway, he calls to her. “Nurse Gordon, call security! And call the police!”

Ruth ignores him and runs down the hall after Charnquist and Kimble.

“Nurse Gordon!” Dr. Patterson calls after her, angrily, then goes to make the call himself.

MINUTES LATER

Ruth catches up to Kimble in an empty corridor, leaning against the wall breathing heavily as Charnquist slips out an exit door at the end of the hall. Hearing a police siren approaching, Kimble pushes away from the wall toward the door.

Ruth runs after him to pull him back. “No! Dr. Patterson called the police!”

“Good! They have to catch him. He killed my wife!”

Ruth grabs both his arms and stands in his way, her uncertainties cast aside. “You don't understand! They're not coming for him. They're coming for you!”

Kimble looks startled. “What? What do you mean?”

Ruth pulls him into an empty room and shuts the door. She wordlessly pulls the news article from her pocket and hands it too him. He reads it silently, obviously stunned, until he reaches the last paragraph.

“Death row,” he whispers, clutching the edge of a table for support.

“I'm sorry, Dr. Kimble. I know you don’t remember any of this. But I'll tell you this. I've watched you for the last few days. I've seen your concern for the other patients and how upset you are about unethical medical behaviour, and no matter what that jury decided, I don't believe you killed your wife.” She reaches for his hand. “Come with me. I’m going to help you get out of here.”

Still dazed, Kimble follows her as she leads him down a back stairway and along an empty hallway where they enter a darkened room. Voices can be heard on the other side.

Ruth hesitates, than has an idea. She pulls Kimble over into the corner.

“Here. Get into this,” she whispers. “Hurry!”

“A body bag?”

“If you want to get out of here, then trust me,” she says. Kimble lies down on a table as Gordon zips the bag shut. “The men are here to transport the autopsy remains. Just keep quiet.” She hands him a scalpel. “You better take this. They don't put inside zippers on these things.” As he nods, she asks “What will you do now?” with concern.

“I have to know what really happened. I'm going to go to that trial.” Kimble answers without hesitation.

“Be careful!”

He reaches out to stop her as she is zipping the bag shut. “What about you? Will you report Dr. Patterson?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll take care of Dr. Patterson!” she says as she zips the bag shut, leaving a small opening for fresh air. “Good luck!” Then she calls to the men at the other side of the room. “Excuse me, there’s another body over here.”

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