Randy Singer - By reason of insanity

Rosemarie had forgotten the details of the plot and, despite the professor's condescending attitude, was beginning to think the visit had been worthwhile. She considered the implications of The Eumenides for Catherine's case. Honestly, she had been so focused on the biblical notion of a blood avenger that she had missed this secular angle. "Is it okay if I borrow this book for a few weeks?" she asked.

"Have at it," the professor said. "Maybe sometime you could come and lecture to my class. 'The psychology of The Eumenides.'"

Also known, Rosemarie thought, as the professor finding another excuse to take a class off. She tucked the book in her briefcase. "Is this the kind of thing Catherine would have been exposed to as part of her comparative religion course?"

"This and other examples," said Channing, "my basic point being to demonstrate that these ancient religions all sanctioned some type of blood feud. Makes you wonder who copied whom, doesn't it?"

Rosemarie had heard enough revisionist history. "Seems to me that Greek drama came along in about the fifth century BC, thousands of years after the Mosaic law," she said. "And I'm no expert, but if I remember correctly, the biblical system included a number of 'cities of refuge' set up throughout the country. Any killer could flee to the cities, but a blood avenger could not go there. A person fleeing to the cities would not be put to death unless that person was tried and found guilty of intentional murder, not just an accidental killing."

She opened the Bible on the desk and flipped back to the book of Numbers, locating one of the passages she had run across while analyzing Catherine's case. "'The cities shall be to you as a refuge from the avenger, so that the manslayer will not die until he stands before the congregation for trial.'" She looked at Channing. "Seems to me the biblical system was focused on a fair trial, not just blood vengeance."

"Yes, yes, I see your point," he said. "One could certainly view it that way, though I'm still struck by the overwhelming similarities."

Rosemarie thought about pressing the point but decided against it. Channing could be a valuable witness in Catherine's trial. She thanked the professor for his time, turned off the tape recorder, and left his office. Her suspicions had now been confirmed, dropping the first piece of the puzzle into place.

Under a DID diagnosis, an alter ego would often carry with it many of the thoughts and characteristics that the person had exhibited at the time of the event that caused the personality to fracture, as if that other personality had become frozen in time. Catherine's rape had occurred during her senior year in college. That same year, she had studied the blood-avenging Greek goddesses in The Eumenides and the biblical notion of a blood avenger. It could be a coincidence, Rosemarie thought. Or perhaps not.

On the way to her car, Rosemarie dictated a note to herself, a reminder to check Catherine's newspaper articles for any coverage of the Paul Donaldson or Clarence Milburn rape trials. Then she called Marc Boland.

"Whose idea was it to bring Quinn Newberg into the case?" Rosemarie asked. "Yours or Catherine's?"

"Catherine's," Marc said without hesitation. "Why?"

Rosemary ignored the question. "How insistent was she on getting Quinn involved?"

"Pretty insistent. Confidentially, I tried to talk her out of it. I'm glad he's part of the team now, but at the time I wasn't thinking insanity, and I felt like his involvement might send the wrong signal."

"Thanks," said Rosemarie. "That's what I thought."

"Do you mind telling me why you're asking?"

"I do mind," said Rosemarie. "And thanks for being sensitive to the fact that I can't always share everything I've discovered with you and Quinn."

Rosemarie could tell by the silence that Marc didn't particularly care for that answer. She thanked him for his time and hung up the phone. The second piece of the puzzle was now firmly in place.

Catherine O'Rourke felt herself slipping deeper into depression but couldn't seem to stop it. Everything about jail was designed to depersonalize, humiliate, and desensitize. If it wasn't for Tasha, she probably would have gone totally berserk.

Even visiting hours compounded the despondency. The steady stream of visitors had dwindled to a few loyal friends and Cat's mom and sister. In a couple of days, her family would have to return to Pennsylvania. "We'll come down just about every weekend," Kelsey promised. But Cat knew the realities-money was getting tight. Kelsey had to get back to work. Trips to Virginia were long and costly.

Catherine continued taking her antidepressants. Her psychiatrist assured Cat she would work through this. The worst thing was that Cat had not seen Marc Boland in nearly a week, and Quinn Newberg had quit taking her collect calls. Updates on her case came from the news or other inmates.

Through it all, she wondered and worried. Was there really another Catherine, one responsible for the murder of infants, defense lawyers, and criminals? Why had the visions stopped? If she wasn't the Avenger, who was?

Catherine was a woman of action, but here she sat, helpless, watching the minutes slowly tick by as she waited for her trial date. If she lost and faced a lifetime prison sentence, she would seriously consider taking her own life. If she truly was the Avenger, who would care?

I can't think that way. But it wasn't that easy. The more she obsessed about the case, the more she isolated herself. And the more that happened, the more depressed she became. She couldn't remember the last time she had genuinely laughed. Cat felt trapped inside a spiral of misery, her mind eroding by the hour.

Even if she won the trial, there would be a significant percentage of Americans who would always believe she was a serial killer. Her best-case scenario was living like O.J. Simpson, enduring the scorn of good people everywhere.

Maybe she could start over again in some remote Latin American country or someplace in Europe. But first, she had to get through today. And then tonight. And then the day after that and the day after that.

Catherine O'Rourke, suspected serial killer. It seemed at times like she could barely remember what life had been like before this nightmare. The sun. The freedom. Friends who believed in her. A promising career.

All gone. And maybe her sanity along with them.

Late Monday afternoon, Quinn suffered one final blow before his scheduled court appearance with Annie. It came as he entered his office building, pushing through a few persistent TV reporters who had set up shop in the lobby.

"Do you have any comment on Claude Tanner's filing in family court?" one of the reporters asked.

"No comment," Quinn said, wondering what the man was talking about. He and Annie had decided to keep the TV off in the condo. He'd never heard of anyone named Claude Tanner.

"Does your client deny that Mr. Tanner is Sierra's father?"

Quinn stopped dead in his tracks, his world suddenly spinning. Sierra's father?

"No comment," Quinn said more tersely than before. He resumed walking toward the elevator, hoping he didn't look as flustered as he felt.

"Will Ms. Newberg contest his right to custody?"

Quinn whirled and shot the reporter a withering look. "Of course," he said. "I don't know if this man is Sierra's biological father or not. I do know that Sierra's biological father wanted nothing to do with his child from day one, at least until the smell of money apparently became irresistible."

"Were you aware he asked for a DNA test?" asked a second reporter.

"No comment," Quinn said, reminding himself that this was a game he could not win. He turned and walked away.

Waiting for the elevator, Quinn mulled over this new complication. Sierra's father could not have picked a worse time to reappear. The thought of the man swooping in and acting concerned about his child's welfare infuriated Quinn. He wondered if Tanner realized that Richard Hofstetter's estate didn't amount to much. Even if Annie was convicted and disqualified from inheriting the money, Sierra, as second in line, wouldn't be getting rich. The proceeds from Hofstetter's life insurance policy would be used to pay his debts first, leaving precious little for either Annie or Sierra.