Sidney Sheldon - Tell me your dreams

"You are with the Federal Bureau of Investigation in Washington, D.C.?"

"Yes, sir."

"And what do you do with the FBI, Special Agent Jordan?"

"I'm in charge of the fingerprints section."

"How long have you had that job?"

"Fifteen years."

"Fifteen years. In all that time have you ever come across a duplicate set of fingerprints from different people?"

"No, sir."

"How many sets of fingerprints are currently on file with the FBI?"

"At last count, just over two hundred and fifty million, but we receive over thirty-four thousand fingerprint cards a day."

"And none of them matches any others?"

"No, sir."

"How do you identify a fingerprint?"

"We use seven different fingerprint patterns for identification purposes. Fingerprints are unique. They're formed before birth and last throughout one's life. Barring accidental or intentional mutilation, no two patterns are alike."

"Special Agent Jordan, you were sent the fingerprints found at the scenes of the three victims who the defendant is accused of murdering?"

"Yes, sir. We were."

"And you were also sent the fingerprints of the defendant, Ashley Patterson?"

"Yes, sir."

"Did you personally examine those prints?"

"I did."

"And what was your conclusion?"

"That the prints left at the murder scenes and the prints that were taken from Ashley Patterson were identical."

There was a loud buzz in the courtroom.

"Order! Order!"

Brennan waited until the courtroom quieted down. "They were identical? Is there any doubt in your mind, Agent Jordan? Could there be any mistake?"

"No, sir. All the prints were clear and easily identifiable."

"Just to clarify this... we're talking about the fingerprints left at the murder scenes of Dennis Tibble, Richard Melton and deputy Samuel Blake?"

"Yes, sir."

"And the fingerprints of the defendant, Ashley Patterson, were found at all the scenes of the murders?"

"That is correct."

"And what would you say was the margin of error?"

"None."

"Thank you. Agent Jordan." Brennan turned to David Singer. "Your witness."

David sat there a moment, then rose and walked over to the witness box. "Agent Jordan, when you examine fingerprints, do you ever find that some have been deliberately smudged, or damaged in some way, in order for the felon to conceal his crime?"

"Yes, but we're usually able to correct them with high-intensity laser techniques."

"Did you have to do that in the case of Ashley Patterson?"

"No, sir."

"Why was that?"

"Well, like I said... the fingerprints were all clear." David glanced at the jury. "So what you're saying is that the defendant made no attempt to erase or disguise her fingerprints?"

"That is correct."

"Thank you. No further questions." He turned to the jury. "Ashley Patterson made no attempt to conceal her prints because she was innocent and—"

Judge Williams snapped, "That's enough. Counselor! You'll have your chance to plead your case later."

David resumed his seat.

Judge Williams turned to Special Agent Jordan. "You're excused." The FBI agent stepped down.

Brennan said, "I would like to call as my next witness, Stanley Clarke."

A young man with long hair was ushered into the courtroom. He walked toward the witness stand. The courtroom was still as he was sworn in and took his seat.

Brennan said, "What is your occupation, Mr. Clarke?"

"I'm with National Biotech Laboratory work with deoxyribonucleic acid."

"More commonly known to us simple nonscientists as DNA?"

"Yes, sir."

"How long have you worked at National Biotech Laboratory?"

"Seven years."

"And what is your position?"

"I'm a supervisor."

"So, in that seven years, I assume that you've had a lot of experience with testing DNA?"

"Sure. I do it every day."

Brennan glanced at the jury. "I think we're all familiar with the importance of DNA." He pointed to the spectators. "Would you say that perhaps half a dozen people in this courtroom have identical DNA?"

"Hell no, sir. If we took a profile of DNA strands and assigned it a frequency based on collected databases, only one in five hundred billion unrelated Caucasians would have the same DNA profile."

Brennan looked impressed. "One in five hundred billion. Mr. Clarke, how do you obtain DNA from a crime scene?"

"Lots of ways. We find DNA in saliva or semen or vaginal discharge, blood, a strand of hair, teeth, bone marrow..."

"And from any one of those things you can match it to a specific person?"

"That's correct."

"Did you personally compare the DNA evidence in the murders of Dennis Tibble, Richard Melton and Samuel Blake?"

"I did."

"And were you later given several strands of hair from the defendant, Ashley Patterson?"

"I was."

"When you compared the DNA evidence from the various murder scenes with the strands of hair from the defendant, what was your conclusion?"

"They were identical."

This time the reaction from the spectators was even noisier.

Judge Williams slammed down her gavel. "Order! Be quiet, or I'll have the courtroom cleared."

Brennan waited until the room was still. "Mr. Clarke, did you say that the DNA taken from every one of the three murder scenes and the DNA of the accused were identical?" Brennan leaned on the word.

"Yes, sir."

Brennan glanced over at the table where Ashley was sitting, then turned back to the witness. "What about contamination? We're all aware of a famous criminal trial where the DNA evidence was supposedly contaminated. Could the evidence in this case have been mishandled so that it was no longer valid or—?"

"No, sir. The DNA evidence in these murder cases was very carefully handled and sealed."

"So there's no doubt about it. The defendant murdered the three—?"

David was on his feet. "Objection, Your Honor. The prosecutor is leading the witness and—"

"Sustained."

David took his seat.

"Thank you, Mr. Clarke." Brennan turned to David. "Nothing further."

Judge Williams said, "Your witness, Mr. Singer."

"No questions."

The jurors were staring at David. Brennan acted surprised. "No questions?"

Brennan looked at the jurors and said, "I'm amazed that the defense is not questioning the evidence, because it proves beyond a doubt that the defendant murdered and castrated three innocent men and—"

David was on his feet. "Your Honor—"

"Sustained. You're stepping over the boundaries, Mr. Brennan!"

"Sorry, Your Honor. No more questions."

Ashley was looking at David, frightened.

He whispered, "Don't worry. It will be our turn soon."

The afternoon consisted of more witnesses for the prosecution, and their testimony was devastating.

"The building superintendent summoned you to Dennis Tibble's apartment. Detective Light man?"

"Yes."

"Would you tell as what you found there?"

"It was a mess. There was blood all over the place."

"What was the condition of the victim?"

"He had been stabbed to death and castrated."

Brennan glanced at the jury, a look of horror on his face. "Stabbed to death and castrated. Did you find any evidence at the scene of the crime?"

"Oh, yes. The victim had had sex before he died. We found some vaginal discharge and fingerprints."

"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.