Gary was puzzled. “You’ve got it all wrong. They never yelled at each other. They were great together.”
“Did you ever see anything that would lead you to believe that Alette Peters would do anything to harm—?”
“Objection. He’s leading the witness.”
“Sustained.”
“No more questions,” David said.
When David sat down, he said to Ashley, “Don’t worry. They’re building up our case for us.”
He sounded more confident than he felt.
David and Sandra were having dinner at San Fresco, the restaurant in the Wyndham Hotel, when the maître d’ came up to David and said, “There’s an urgent telephone call for you, Mr. Singer.”
“Thank you.” David said to Sandra, “I’ll be right back.”
He followed the maître d’ to a telephone. “This is David Singer.”
“David—Jesse. Go up to your room and call me back. The goddamn roof is falling in!”
Chapter Seventeen
JESSE—?”
“David, I know I’m not supposed to interfere, but I think you should ask for a mistrial.”
“What’s happened?”
“Have you been on the Internet in the past few days?”
“No. I’ve been a little busy.”
“Well, the trial is all over the damned Internet. That’s all they’re talking about in the chat rooms.”
“That figures,” David said. “But what’s the—?”
“It’s all negative, David. They’re saying that Ashley is guilty and that she should be executed. And they’re saying it in very colorful ways. You can’t believe how vicious they are.”
David, suddenly realizing, said, “Oh, my God! If any of the jurors are on the Internet—”
“The odds are pretty good that some of them are, and they’ll be influenced. I would ask for a mistrial, or at the very least, to have the jurors sequestered.”
“Thanks, Jesse. Will do.” David replaced the receiver. When he returned to the restaurant where Sandra was waiting, she asked, “Bad?”
“Bad.”
Before court convened the following morning, David asked to see Judge Williams. He was ushered into her chambers, along with Mickey Brennan.
“You asked to see me?”
“Yes, Your Honor. I learned last night that this trial is the number one subject on the Internet. It’s what all the chat rooms are discussing, and they’ve already convicted the defendant. It’s very prejudicial. And since I’m sure that some of the jurors have computers with on-line access, or talk to friends who have online access, it could seriously damage the defense. Therefore, I’m making a motion for a mistrial.”
She was thoughtful for a moment. “Motion denied.”
David sat there, fighting to control himself. “Then I make a motion to immediately sequester the jury so that—”
“Mr. Singer, every day the press is at this courtroom in full force. This trial is the number one topic on television, on radio and in the newspapers all over the world. I warned you that this was going to turn into a circus, and you wouldn’t listen.” She leaned forward. “Well, it’s your circus. If you wanted the jury sequestered, you should have made that motion before the trial. And I probably would not have granted it. Is there anything else?”
David sat there, his stomach churning. “No, Your Honor.”
“Then let’s get into the courtroom.”
Mickey Brennan was questioning Sheriff Dowling.
“Deputy Sam Blake called to tell you that he was going to spend the night at the defendant’s apartment in order to protect her? She told him that someone was threatening her life?”
“That is correct.”
“When did you hear from Deputy Blake again?”
“I—I didn’t. I got a call in the morning that his—his body had been found in the alley in back of Miss Patterson’s apartment building.”
“And of course you went there immediately?”
“Of course.”
“And what did you find?”
He swallowed. “Sam’s body was wrapped in a bloody sheet. He had been stabbed to death and castrated like the other two victims.”
“Like the other two victims. So all those murders were carried out in a similar fashion?”
“Yes, sir.”
“As though they were killed by the same person?”
David was on his feet. “Objection!”
“Sustained.”
“I’ll withdraw that. What did you do next, Sheriff?”
“Well, up until that time, Ashley Patterson wasn’t a suspect. But after this happened, we took her in and had her fingerprints taken.”