“Why didn’t you arrest someone immediately?”
“The fingerprints we found didn’t match any that we had on record. We were waiting for a match on the prints we had.”
“But when you finally got Ashley Patterson’s fingerprints and her DNA, it all came together?”
“It sure did. It all came together.”
Dr. Steven Patterson was at the trial every day. He sat in the spectators’ section just behind the defendant’s table. Whenever he entered or left the courtroom, he was besieged by reporters.
“Dr. Patterson, how do you think the trial is going?”
“It’s going very well.”
“What do you think is going to happen?”
“My daughter is going to be found innocent.”
Late one afternoon when David and Sandra got back to the hotel, there was a message waiting for them. “Please call Mr. Kwong at your bank.”
David and Sandra looked at each other. “Is it time for another payment already?” Sandra asked.
“Yes. Time flies when you’re having fun,” he said dryly. David was thoughtful for a moment. “The trial’s going to be over soon, honey. We have enough left in our bank account to give them this month’s payment.”
Sandra looked at him, worried. “David, if we can’t make all the payments…do we lose everything we’ve put in?”
“We do. But don’t worry. Good things happen to good people.”
And he thought about Helen Woodman.
Brian Hill was sitting in the witness box after being sworn in. Mickey Brennan gave him a friendly smile.
“Would you tell us what you do, Mr. Hill?”
“Yes, sir. I’m a guard at the De Young Museum in San Francisco.”
“That must be an interesting job.”
“It is, if you like art. I’m a frustrated painter.”
“How long have you worked there?”
“Four years.”
“Do a lot of the same people visit the museum? That is, do people come again and again?”
“Oh, yes. Some people do.”
“So I suppose that over a period of time, they would become familiar to you, or at least they would be familiar faces?”
“That’s true.”
“And I’m told that artists are permitted to come in to copy some of the museum’s paintings?”
“Oh, yes. We have a lot of artists.”
“Did you ever meet any of them, Mr. Hill?”
“Yes, we—You kind of become friendly after a while.”
“Did you ever meet a man named Richard Melton?”
Brian Hill sighed. “Yes. He was very talented.”
“So talented, in fact, that you asked him to teach you to paint?”
“That’s right.”
David got to his feet. “Your Honor, this is fascinating, but I don’t see what it has to do with the trial. If Mr. Brennan—”
“It’s relevant, Your Honor. I’m establishing that Mr. Hill could identify the victim by sight and by name and tell us who the victim associated with.”
“Objection overruled. You may go ahead.”
“And did he teach you to paint?”
“Yes, he did, when he had time.”
“When Mr. Melton was at the museum, did you ever see him with any young ladies?”
“Well, not in the beginning. But then he met somebody he was kind of interested in, and I used to see him with her.”
“What was her name?”
“Alette Peters.”
Brennan looked puzzled. “Alette Peters? Are you sure you have the right name?”
“Yes, sir. That’s the way he introduced her.”
“You don’t happen to see her in this courtroom right now, do you, Mr. Hill?”
“Yes, sir.” He pointed to Ashley. “That’s her sitting there.”
Brennan said, “But that’s not Alette Peters. That’s the defendant, Ashley Patterson.”
David was on his feet. “Your Honor, we have already said that Alette Peters is a part of this trial. She is one of the alters who controls Ashley Patterson and—”
“You’re getting ahead of yourself, Mr. Singer. Mr. Brennan, please continue.”
“Now, Mr. Hill, you’re sure that the defendant, who’s here under the name of Ashley Patterson, was known to Richard Melton as Alette Peters?”
“That’s right.”
“And there’s no doubt that this is the same woman?”
Brian Hill hesitated. “Well…Yeah, it’s the same woman.”
“And you saw her with Richard Melton the day that Melton was murdered?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Thank you.” Brennan turned to David. “Your witness.”