Tell Me Your Dreams (15 page)

“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.”

David got up and slowly walked over to the witness box. “Mr. Hill, I would think it’s a big responsibility being a guard in a place where so many hundreds of millions of dollars’ worth of art was being exhibited.”

“Yes, sir. It is.”

“And to be a good guard, you have to be on the alert all the time.”

“That’s right.”

“You have to be aware of what’s going on all the time.”

“You bet.”

“Would you say that you’re a trained observer, Mr. Hill?”

“Yes, I would.”

“I ask that because I noticed when Mr. Brennan asked you if you had any doubts about whether Ashley Patterson was the woman who was with Richard Melton, you hesitated. Weren’t you sure?”

There was a momentary pause. “Well, she looks a lot like the same woman, but in a way she seems different.”

“In what way, Mr. Hill?”

“Alette Peters was more Italian, and she had an Italian accent.. . and she seemed younger than the defendant.”

“That’s exactly right, Mr. Hill. The person you saw in San Francisco was an alter of Ashley Patterson. She was born in Rome, she was eight years younger—”

Brennan was on his feet, furious. “Objection.”

David turned to Judge Williams. “Your Honor, I was—” “Will counsel approach the bench, please?” David and Brennan walked over to Judge Williams. “I don’t want to have to tell you this again, Mr. Singer. The defense will have its chance when the prosecution rests. Until then, stop pleading your case.”

Bernice Jenkins was on the stand.

“Would you tell us your occupation, Miss Jenkins?”

“I’m a waitress.”

“And where do you work?”

“The cafe at the De Young Museum.”

“What was your relationship with Richard Melton?”

“We were good friends.”

“Could you elaborate on that?”

“Well, at one time we had a romantic relationship and then things kind of cooled off. Those things happen.”

“I’m sure they do. And then what?”

“Then we became like brother and sister. I mean, I—I told him about all my problems, and he told me about all his problems.”

“Did he ever discuss the defendant with you?”

“Well, yeah, but she called herself by a different name.”

“And that name was?”

“Alette Peters.”

“But he knew her name was really Ashley Patterson?”

“No. He thought her name was Alette Peters.”

“You mean she deceived him?”

David sprang to his feet, furious. “Objection.”

“Sustained. You will stop leading the witness, Mr. Brennan.”

“Sorry, Your Honor.” Brennan turned back to the witness box. “He spoke to you about this Alette Peters, but did you ever see the two of them together?”

“Yes, I did. He brought her into the restaurant one day and introduced us.”

“And you’re speaking of the defendant, Ashley Patterson?”

“Yeah. Only she called herself Alette Peters.”

Gary King was on the stand.

Brennan asked, “You were Richard Melton’s roommate?”

“Yes.”

“Were you also friends? Did you go out with him socially?”

“Sure. We double-dated a lot together.”

“Was Mr. Melton interested in any young lady in particular?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you know her name?”

“She called herself Alette Peters.”

“Do you see her in this courtroom?”

“Yeah. She’s sitting over there.”

“For the record, you are pointing to the defendant, Ashley Patterson?”

“Right.”

“When you came home on the night of the murder, you found Richard Melton’s body in the apartment?”

“I sure did.”

“What was the condition of the body?”

“Bloody.”

“The body had been castrated?”

A shudder. “Yeah. Man, it was awful.”

Brennan looked over at the jury for their reaction. It was exactly what he hoped for.

“What did you do next, Mr. King?”

“I called the police.”

“Thank you.” Brennan turned to David. “Your witness.”

David rose and walked over to Gary King.

“Tell us about Richard Melton. What kind of man was he?”

“He was great.”

“Was he argumentative? Did he like to get into fights?”

“Richard? No. Just the opposite. He was very quiet, laid back.”

“But he liked to be around women who were tough and kind of physical?”

Gary was looking at him strangely. “Not at all. Richard liked nice, quiet women.”

“Did he and Alette have a lot of fights? Did she yell at him a lot?”

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!”

J
ESSE
—?”

“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.”

“And then?”

“We sent them to the FBI, and we got a positive make on her.”

“Would you explain to the jury what you mean by a positive make?”

Sheriff Dowling turned to the jury. “Her fingerprints matched other fingerprints on file that they were trying to identify from the previous murders.”

“Thank you, Sheriff.” Brennan turned to David. “Your witness.”

David got up and walked over to the witness box. “Sheriff, we’ve heard testimony in this courtroom that a bloody knife was found in Miss Patterson’s kitchen.”

“That’s right.”

“How was it hidden? Wrapped up in something? Stashed away where it couldn’t be found?”

“No. It was right out in the open.”

“Right out in the open. Left there by someone who had nothing to hide. Someone who was innocent because—”

“Objection!”

“Sustained.”

“No more questions.”

“The witness is dismissed.”

Brennan said, “If it pleases the court…” He signaled someone at the back of the courtroom, and a man in overalls came in, carrying the mirror from Ashley Patterson’s medicine cabinet. On it, in red lipstick, was written YOU WILL DIE.

David rose. “What is this?”

Judge Williams turned to Mickey Brennan. “Mr. Brennan?”

“This is the bait the defendant used to get Deputy Blake to come to her apartment so she could murder him. I would like this marked as exhibit D. It came from the medicine chest of the defendant.”

“Objection, Your Honor. It has no relevance.”

“I will prove that there is a relevance.”

“We’ll see. In the meantime, you may proceed.”

Brennan placed the mirror in full view of the jury. “This mirror was taken from the defendant’s bathroom.” He looked at the jurors. “As you can see, scrawled across it is ’You Will Die.’ This was the defendant’s pretext for having Deputy Blake come to her apartment that night to protect her.” He turned to Judge Williams. “I would like to call my next witness, Miss Laura Niven.”

A middle-aged woman walking with a cane approached the witness box and was sworn in.

“Where do you work, Miss Niven?”

“I’m a consultant for the County of San Jose.”

“And what do you do?”

“I’m a handwriting expert.”

“How long have you worked for the county, Miss Niven?”

“Twenty-two years.”

Brennan nodded toward the mirror. “You have been shown this mirror before?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve examined it?”

“I have.”

“And you’ve been shown an example of the defendant’s handwriting?”

“Yes.”

“And had a chance to examine that?”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve compared the two?”

“I have.”

“And what is your conclusion?”

“They were written by the same person.”

There was a collective gasp from the courtroom.

“So what you’re saying is that Ashley Patterson wrote this threat to herself?”

“That is correct.”

Mickey Brennan looked over at David. “Your witness.”

David hesitated. He glanced at Ashley. She was staring down at the table, shaking her head. “No questions.”

Judge Williams was studying David. “No questions, Mr. Singer?”

David rose to his feet. “No. All this testimony is meaningless.” He turned to the jury. “The prosecution will have to prove that Ashley Patterson knew the defendants and had a motive to—”

Judge Williams said angrily, “I’ve warned you before. It is not your place to instruct the jury on the law. If—”

“Someone has to,” David exploded. “You’re letting him get away with—”

“That’s enough, Mr. Singer. Approach the bench.”

David walked to the bench.

“I’m citing you for contempt of court and sentencing you to a night here in our nice jail the day this trial is over.”

“Wait, Your Honor. You can’t—”

She said grimly, “I’ve sentenced you to one night. Would you like to try for two?”

David stood there, glaring at her, taking deep breaths. “For the sake of my client, I’ll—I’ll keep my feelings to myself.”

“A wise decision,” Judge Williams said curtly. “Court is adjourned.” She turned to a bailiff. “When this trial is ended, I want Mr. Singer taken into custody.”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

Ashley turned to Sandra. “Oh, my God! What’s happening?”

Sandra squeezed her arm. “Don’t worry. You have to trust David.”

Sandra telephoned Jesse Quiller.

“I heard,” he said. “It’s all over the news, Sandra. I don’t blame David for losing his temper. She’s been goading him from the beginning. What did David do to get her so down on him?”

“I don’t know, Jesse. It’s been horrible. You should see the faces of the jurors. They hate Ashley. They can’t wait to convict her. Well, it’s the defense’s turn next. David will change their minds.”

“Hold the thought.”

“Judge Williams hates me, Sandra, and it’s harming Ashley. If I don’t do something about this, Ashley is going to die. I can’t let that happen.”

“What can you do?” Sandra asked.

David took a deep breath. “Resign from the case.”

Both of them knew what that meant. The media would be full of his failure.

“I never should have agreed to take on the trial,” David said bitterly. “Dr. Patterson trusted me to save his daughter’s life, and I’ve—” He could not go on.

Sandra put her arms around him and held him close. “Don’t worry, darling. Everything’s going to turn out fine.”

I’ve let everyone down,
David thought.
Ashley, Sandra…I’m going to be kicked out of the firm, I won’t have a job and the baby is due soon. “Everything’s going to turn out fine.”

Right.

In the morning, David asked to see Judge Williams in her chambers. Mickey Brennan was there.

Judge Williams said, “You asked to see me, Mr. Singer?”

“Yes, Your Honor. I want to resign from the case.”

Judge Williams said, “On what grounds?”

David spoke carefully. “I don’t believe I’m the right lawyer for this trial. I think I’m hurting my client. I would like to be replaced.”

Judge Williams said quietly, “Mr. Singer, if you think I’m going to let you walk away from this and then have to start this trial all over again and waste even more time and money, you’re quite mistaken. The answer is no. Do you understand me?”

David closed his eyes for an instant, forcing himself to stay calm. He looked up and said, “Yes, Your Honor. I understand you.

He was trapped.