Sidney Sheldon - Tell me your dreams

"I wonder if he knows how expensive it is to maintain a penthouse?"

"Probably not. I'll just tell him we can't—"

"Give him the money."

Harvey looked at him in surprise. "But we don't have to—"

Kincaid leaned forward in his chair. "We're going to help him dig a hole for himself, Harvey. Once he puts a down payment on that penthouse... we own him."

Harvey Udell telephoned David. "I've good news for you, David. That money you have in the pension plan, you're taking it out early, but there's no problem. Mr. Kincaid says to give you anything you want."

"Mr. Crowther. David Singer."

"I've been waiting to hear from you, Mr. Singer."

"The down payment on the penthouse is on its way. You'll have it tomorrow."

"Wonderful. As I told you, we have some other folks who are anxious to get it, but I have the feeling that you and your wife are the right owners for it. You're going to be very happy there."

All it will take, David thought, is a few dozen miracles.

Ashley Patterson's arraignment took place in the Superior Court of the County of Santa Clara on North First Street in San Jose. The legal wrangling about jurisdiction had gone on for weeks. It had been complicated, because the murders had taken place in two countries and two different states. A meeting was held in San Francisco, attended by Officer Guy Pontaine from the Quebec Police Department, Sheriff Dowling from Santa Clara County, Detective Eagan from Bedford, Pennsylvania, Captain Rudford from the San Francisco Police Department, and Roger Toland, the chief of police in San Jose.

Fontaine said, "We would like to try her in Quebec because we have absolute evidence of her guilt. There's no way she can win a trial there."

Detective Eagan said, "For that matter, so do we, Officer Fontaine. Jim Cleary's was the first murder she committed, and I think that should take precedence over the others."

Captain Rudford of the San Francisco police said, "Gentlemen, there's no doubt that we can all prove her guilt. But three of these murders took place in California, and she should be tried here for all of them. That gives us a much stronger case."

"I agree," Sheriff Dowling said. "And two of them took place in Santa Clara County, so this is where the jurisdiction should lie."

They spent the next two hours arguing the merits of their positions, and in the end, it was decided that the trial for the murders of Dennis Tibble, Richard Melton and deputy Sam Blake would be held at the Hall of Justice in San Jose. They agreed that the murders in Bedford and Quebec would be put on hold.

On the day of arraignment, David stood at Ashley's side.

The judge on the bench said, "How do you plead?"

"Not guilty and not guilty by reason of insanity."

The judge nodded. "Very well."

"Your Honor, we're requesting bail at this time."

The attorney from the prosecutor's office jumped in. "Your Honor, we strongly object. The defendant is accused of three savage murders and faces the death penalty. If she were given the opportunity, she would flee the country."

"That's not true," David said. "There's no—"

The judge interrupted. "I've reviewed the file and the prosecutor's affidavit in support of no bail. Bail denied. This case is assigned to Judge Williams for all purposes. The defendant will be held in custody at the Santa Clara County Jail until trial."

David sighed. "Yes, Your Honor." He turned to Ashley.

"Don't worry. Everything's going to work out. Remember... you're not guilty."

When David returned to the office. Sandra said, "Have you seen the headlines? The tabloids are calling Ashley 'the Butcher Bitch.' The story is all over television."

"We knew this was going to be rough," David said. "And this is only the beginning. Let's go to work."

The trial was eight weeks away.

The next eight weeks were filled with feverish activity. David and Sandra worked all day and far into the night, digging up transcripts of trials of defendants with multiple personality disorder. There were dozens of cases. The various defendants had been tried for murder, rape, robbery, drug dealing, arson.... Some had been convicted, some had been acquitted.

"We're going to get Ashley acquitted," David told Sandra.

Sandra gathered the names of prospective witnesses and telephoned them.

"Dr. Nakamoto, I'm working with David Singer. I believe you testified in The State of Oregon Versus Bo-hannan. Mr. Singer is representing Ashley Patterson.... Oh, you did? Yes. Well, we would like you to come to San Jose and testify in her behalf...."

"Dr. Booth, I'm calling from David Singer's office. He's defending Ashley Patterson. You testified in the Dickerson case. We're interested in your expert testimony.... We would like you to come to San Jose and testify for Miss Patterson. We need your expertise...."

"Dr. Jameson, this is Sandra Singer. We need you to come to..."

And so it went, from morning until midnight. Finally, a list of a dozen witnesses was compiled. David looked at it and said, "It's pretty impressive. Doctors, a dean... heads of law schools." He looked up at Sandra and smiled. "I think we're in good shape."

From time to time, Jesse Quiller came into the office David was using. "How are you getting along?" he asked. "Anything can do to help?"

"I'm fine."

Quiller looked around the office. "Do you have everything you need?"

David smiled. "Everything, including my best friend."

On a Monday morning, David received a package from the prosecutor's office listing the state's discovery. As David read it, his spirits sank.

Sandra was watching him, concerned. "What is it?"

"Look at this. He's bringing in a lot of heavyweight medical experts to testify against MPD."

"How are you going to handle that?" Sandra asked.

"We're going to admit that Ashley was at the scenes when the murders took place, but that the murders were actually committed by an alter ego." Can I persuade a jury to believe that?

* * *

Five days before the trial was to begin, David received a telephone call saying that Judge Williams wanted to meet with him.

David walked into Jesse Quiller's office. "Jesse, what can you tell me about Judge Williams?"

Jesse leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. "Tessa Williams... Were you ever a Boy Scout, David?"

"Yes..."

"Do you remember the Boy Scout motto,—'be prepared'?"

"Sure."

"When you walk into Tessa Williams's courtroom, be prepared. She's brilliant. She came up the hard way. Her folks were Mississippi sharecroppers. She went through college on a scholarship, and the people in her hometown were so proud of her, they raised the money to put her through law school. There's a rumor that she turned down a big appointment in Washington because she likes it where she is. She's a legend."

"Interesting," David said.

"The trial is going to be in Santa Clara County?"

"Yes."

"Then you'll have my old friend Mickey Brennan prosecuting."

"Tell me about him."

"He's a feisty Irishman, tough on the inside, tough on the outside. Brennan comes from a long line of over-achievers. His father runs a huge publishing business; his mother's a doctor; his sister is a college professor. Brennan was a football star in his college days, and he was at the top of his law class." He leaned forward. "He's good, David. Be careful. His trick is to disarm witnesses and then move in for the kill. He likes to blind-side them.... Why does Judge Williams want to see you?"

"I have no idea. The call just said she wants to discuss the Patterson case with me."

Jesse Quiller frowned. "That's unusual. When are you meeting with her?"

"Wednesday morning."

"Watch your back."

"Thanks, Jesse. I will."

The superior courthouse in Santa Clara County is a white, four-story building on North First Street. Directly inside the courthouse entrance is a desk manned by a uniformed guard; there is a metal detector, a railing alongside and an elevator. There are seven courtrooms m the building, each one presided over by a judge and staff.