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Tell Me Your Dreams by Sidney Sheldon

The voir dire started with Judge Williams asking general questions of the potential jurors. When she had finished, it was the defense’s turn and then the prosecution’s.

To laymen, the selection of a jury seems simple: Choose the prospective juror who seemed friendly and dismiss the others. In fact, voir dire was a carefully planned ritual. Skilled trial lawyers did not ask direct questions that would bring yes or no answers. They asked general questions that would encourage the jurors to talk and reveal something of themselves and their true feelings.

Mickey Brennan and David Singer had different agendas. In this case, Brennan wanted a preponderance of men on the jury, men who would be disgusted and shocked at the idea of a woman stabbing and castrating her victims. Brennan’s questions were meant to pinpoint people who were traditional in their thinking, who would be less likely to believe in spirits and goblins and people who claimed they were inhabited by alters. David took the opposite approach.

“Mr. Harris, is it? I’m David Singer. I’m representing the defendant. Have you ever served on a jury before, Mr. Harris?”

“No.”

“I appreciate your taking the time and trouble to do this.”

“It should be interesting, a big murder trial like this.”

“Yes. I think it will be.”

“In fact, I’ve been looking forward to it.”

“Have you?”

“Yeah.”

“Where do you work, Mr. Harris?”

“At United Steel.”

“I imagine you and your fellow workers have talked about the Patterson case.”

“Yes. As a matter of fact, we have.”

David said, “That’s understandable. Everyone seems to be talking about it. What’s the general opinion? Do your fellow workers think Ashley Patterson is guilty?”

“Yeah. I have to say they do.”

“And do you think so?”

“Well, it sure looks like it.”

“But you’re willing to listen to the evidence before making up your mind?”

“Yeah. I’ll listen to it.”

“What do you like to read, Mr. Harris?”

“I’m not a big reader. I like to camp out and hunt and fish.”

“An outdoorsman. When you’re camping out at night and you look at the stars, do you ever wonder if there are other civilizations up there?”

“You mean that crazy UFO stuff? I don’t believe in all that nonsense.”

David turned to Judge Williams. “Pass for cause, Your Honor.”

Another juror interrogation:

“What do you like to do in your spare time, Mr. Allen?”

“Well, I like to read and watch television.”

“I like to do the same things. What do you watch on television?”

“There’s some great shows on Thursday nights. It’s hard to choose. The damn networks put all the good shows on at the same time.”

“You’re right. It’s a shame. Do you ever watch the X-Files?”

“Yeah. My kids love it.”

“What about Sabrina, the Teenage Witch?”

“Yeah. We watch that. That’s a good show.”

“What do you like to read?”

“Anne Rice, Stephen King…”

Yes.

Another juror interrogation:

“What do you like to watch on television, Mr. Mayer?”

“Sixty Minutes, the NewsHour with Jim Lehrer, documentaries…”

“What do you like to read?”

“Mainly history and political books.”

“Thank you.”

No.

Judge Tessa Williams sat on the bench, listening to the questioning, her face betraying nothing. But David could feel her disapproval every time she looked at him.

When the last juror was finally selected, the panel consisted of seven men and five women. Brennan glanced at David triumphantly. This is going to be a slaughter.

Chapter Sixteen

EARLY on the morning the trial of Ashley Patterson was to begin, David went to see Ashley at the detention center. She was near hysteria.

“I can’t go through with this. I can’t! Tell them to leave me alone.”

“Ashley, it’s going to be all right. We’re going to face them, and we’re going to win.”

“You don’t know—You don’t know what this is like. I feel as though I’m in some kind of hell.”

“We’re going to get you out of it. This is the first step.”

She was trembling. “I’m afraid they’re—they’re going to do something terrible to me.”

“I won’t let them,” David said firmly. “I want you to believe in me. Just remember, you’re not responsible for what happened. You haven’t done anything wrong. They’re waiting for us.”

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Categories: Sidney Sheldon
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