“I’ve given it a lot of thought,” David said. “I don’t think I can.
Dr. Salem looked at him a moment. “Why not?”
“Brennan, the prosecuting attorney, is a killer. He would tear her apart. I can’t take that chance.”
David and Sandra were having dinner with the Quillers two days before the preliminaries of the trial were to begin.
“We’ve checked into the Wyndham Hotel,” David said. “The manager did me a special favor. Sandra’s coming down with me. The town is crowded beyond belief.”
“And if it’s that bad now,” Emily said, “imagine what it’s going to be like when the trial starts.”
Quiller looked at David. “Anything I can do to help?”
David shook his head. “I have a big decision to make. Whether to put Ashley on the stand or not.”
“It’s a tough call,” Jesse Quiller said. “You’re damned if you do and damned if you don’t. The problem is that Brennan is going to build Ashley Patterson up as a sadistic, murdering monster. If you don’t put her on the stand, that’s the image the jurors will carry in their minds when they go into the jury room to reach a verdict. On the other hand, from what you tell me, if you do put Ashley on the stand, Brennan can destroy her.”
“Brennan’s going to have all his medical experts there to discredit multiple personality disorder.”
“You’ve got to convince them that it’s real.”
“And I intend to,” David said. “Do you know what bothers me, Jesse? The jokes. The latest one going around is that I wanted to ask for a change of venue, but I decided not to because there are no places left where Ashley hasn’t murdered someone. Do you remember when Johnny Carson was on television? He was funny and he always remained a gentleman. Now, the hosts on the late-night shows are all malicious. Their humor at the expense of other people is savage.”
“David?”
“Yes.”
Jesse Quiller said quietly, “It’s going to get worse.”
David Singer was unable to sleep the night before he was to go into court. He could not stem the negative thoughts swirling through his head. When he finally fell asleep, he heard a voice saying, You let your last client die. What if you let this one die?
He sat up in bed, bathed in perspiration.
Sandra opened her eyes. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. No. What the hell am I doing here? All I had to do was say no to Dr. Patterson.”
Sandra squeezed his arm and said softly, “Why didn’t you?”
He grunted. “You’re right. I couldn’t.”
“All right then. Now, how about getting some sleep so you’ll be nice and fresh in the morning?”
“Great idea.”
He was awake the rest of the night.
Judge Williams had been correct about the media. The reporters were relentless. Journalists were swarming in from around the world, avid to cover the story of a beautiful young woman being tried as a serial killer who sexually mutilated her victims.
The fact that Mickey Brennan was forbidden to bring the names of Jim Cleary or Jean Claude Parent into the trial had been frustrating, but the media had solved the problem for him. Television talk shows, magazines and newspapers all carried lurid stories of the five murders and castrations. Mickey Brennan was pleased.
When David arrived at the courtroom, the press was out in full force. David was besieged.
“Mr. Singer, are you still employed by Kincaid, Turner, Rose & Ripley . ..?”
“Look this way, Mr. Singer.…”
“Is it true you were fired for taking this case…?”
“Can you tell us about Helen Woodman? Didn’t you handle her murder trial…?”
“Did Ashley Patterson say why she did it…?”
“Are you going to put your client on the stand…?”
“No comment,” David said curtly.
When Mickey Brennan drove up to the courthouse, he was instantly surrounded by the media.
“Mr. Brennan, how do you think the trial is going to go…?
“Have you ever tried an alter ego defense before…?”
Brennan smiled genially. “No. I can’t wait to talk to all the defendants.” He got the laugh that he wanted. “If there are enough of them, they can have their own ball club.” Another laugh. “I’ve got to get inside. I don’t want to keep any of the defendants waiting.”