Randy Singer - By reason of insanity

Quinn snuck a glance at the jury. They looked contemplative, as if weighing the merits of this bizarre theory that Mancini had proposed.

Bizarre, Quinn thought. Just one step away from crazy.

"No further questions," he said.

Gates was on his feet immediately, apparently trying to show the jury he was unafraid to take on Dr. Mancini.

"Since you're so familiar with the defendant's college record, I presume you know that she had a journalism major and a criminal justice minor?"

"That's correct."

"Meaning she would have studied cases involving the insanity defense."

"Presumably."

"In addition, for a number of years she covered the crime and courts beat for our local paper. Is that your understanding?"

"Yes."

"And in that capacity would have sat through numerous trials, including some dealing with the insanity defense?"

Mancini shrugged. "She would have attended numerous trials, yes. But the insanity plea is actually used far less frequently than most people think-"

"Just answer the question yes or no," Gates insisted.

But he was dealing with an experienced witness, one who knew her rights. "I thought I was allowed to explain where necessary," Mancini said to the judge.

"You are," Rosencrance ruled. "But keep it brief."

"Thank you," Mancini said. "As I was saying, Mr. Gates, the insanity plea is used so rarely that I would doubt Ms. O'Rourke ever covered a case quite like this one."

Gates glared at the witness. "She covered the case of Anne Newberg, who pleaded not guilty by reason of insanity, did she not?"

"Yes. And since I testified in that case, I can assure you that it was a totally different scenario than dissociative identity disorder."

Gates checked his notes, apparently deciding to move on. "Normally you can bring out an alter personality by bringing up memories of the triggering incidence either through hypnosis or other means; isn't that right?"

"That is normally the case, though not always."

"Did you try that here?"

"Yes. I don't use hypnosis, but we did dig deeply into the emotions of the rape and what Catherine remembers about that night."

"Did you ever trigger this alternate personality?"

"No, I didn't."

Gates looked puzzled-an act for the jury, no doubt. "You mentioned on direct examination that you expect to be paid a lot of money in this case for your opinions; is that correct?"

"That's correct, Mr. Gates. With emphasis on the phrase ' expect to be paid.'"

"Let's not be cute, Doctor. Twenty thousand dollars is a lot of money, isn't it?"

"To be precise it was nineteen thousand. But yes, it's a lot."

"And that's not the full extent of your bias, is it?"

Mancini knit her brow. "I'm not sure what you mean. Any professional wants to get paid. That doesn't make me biased."

Gates walked toward the front of the jury box, pulling the gaze of most jurors along. "Then let me make it real clear. Isn't it true that you and Mr. Newberg have formed quite a little team on these insanity cases? Isn't it true that you would do anything to help his cause? Isn't it true-?"

"Objection!" Quinn called out, jumping to his feet. He normally didn't object during Mancini's testimony, confident that she could fend for herself, but this was way over the line. "That's highly improper. Plus, it's about three questions in one."

"Judge, the bias of this witness is central to our case. I'm entitled to probe how tightly she is connected with defense counsel."

Standing there, it dawned on Quinn-he had been suckered. Gates wanted that objection. He wanted the jury focused on the question; he wanted the press on the edge of their seats. He wanted Quinn to make a big deal out of this, and Quinn had played right into his hands.

"You may ask about bias," Rosencrance ruled. "But one question at a time. And save your arguments for closing."

Gates paused, thinking. He spoke slowly, thoughtfully, theatrically. "Isn't it true that you and Mr. Newberg are so close, so willing to do anything for each other, that you're even helping him raise his niece?"

Quinn couldn't believe it! How dare Gates drag Sierra into this! Even Rosemarie seemed stunned into silence.

"Dr. Mancini," Gates insisted, "isn't it true that Quinn Newberg's niece is living with you right now?"

"Yes," Mancini answered.

Quinn stared at Gates in disbelief. Poor Sierra had nothing to do with this case. Nothing! She was just starting to get her legs back under her.

And with one insensitive question, Gates had blown it all away.

During the subsequent break, Quinn rose and walked over to Boyd Gates's counsel table. The prosecutor had his back turned and was talking with Jamarcus Webb.

"This case has nothing to do with my family," Quinn said. He placed a hand on Gates's elbow, and the prosecutor turned to face him. "Leave my family out of this."

Quinn's words caused a hush in the courtroom; spectators and press members gawked at the two.

"Your client killed five people, three babies, in cold blood," Gates said, thrusting out his jaw. "Everything's fair game in this trial, Newberg. Everything. "

Quinn inched closer, his fury boiling over. "Not my family. My family stays out of this."

"Or what? Is this some kind of threat?"

A split second before Quinn could respond with a shove or a fist, Marc Boland edged between the two men, taking hold of Quinn's arm. "C'mon, Quinn," he said, nudging his co-counsel back from the brink. "It's a low blow. That's what he's known for. We've still got a case to try."

Quinn shot one last menacing look at Gates as he shook his right arm free from Boland, feeling the pain as he did so, then straightened his suit coat. He walked with Bo back to their counsel table "That guy's an idiot," Quinn said.

Bo looked at the reporters. "Show's over," he announced.

As Quinn sat down to cool off, the deputy who had escorted Catherine into the holding cell reentered the courtroom. Seeing him reminded Quinn.

"My client wants to meet with me," Quinn said to the deputy.

"You know the drill," the man said.

Bo decided to go make nice with the press, and Quinn headed toward the chamber where he could meet with Catherine, separated by about six inches of steel door.

He passed Mancini on the way.

"You need me to make an appointment?" she asked.

"For what?"

"For you. Anger management."

"Sorry, Rosemarie. The guy just knows how to get under my skin."

After the break, the tension level in the courtroom had increased noticeably. There was none of the idle chatter and hustling into seats that usually occurred as Rosencrance took the bench.

Quinn sat numbly as the judge told everyone to be seated. He watched as she jotted a few notes. He knew he should be preparing himself for a tongue-lashing over his altercation with Gates, but he was still trying to process what Catherine had told him just moments ago.

Rosencrance had the bailiff bring Catherine into the courtroom. "Before I bring in the jury," she said, "I would like counsel to approach the bench."

Here it comes. Quinn noticed that Marc Boland stayed on his right, physically separating him from Boyd Gates.

The judge put her hand over her mike and leaned forward, her eyes dissecting Quinn. "I've about had it with your conduct in this courtroom, Counselor. My bailiff told me what happened during the break. I want you to know that I'll be filing a complaint against you with the Nevada state bar after this case. I would revoke your pro hac status right now, but then Mr. Boland would just ask for a continuance."

"I understand," Quinn said, thankful that she hadn't tried to make him apologize. A man had to have standards.

"And, Mr. Gates, as many cases as you've tried in my courtroom, you should know better than to pull a stunt like that on cross-examination."