Sidney Sheldon - Tell me your dreams

"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 banning 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 Brenman 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.

More than three months had gone by since the beginning of the trial, and David could not remember when he had last had a full night's sleep.

One afternoon, when they returned from the court-room, Sandra said, "David, I think I should go back to San Francisco."

David looked at her in surprise. "Why? We're right in the middle of—Oh, my God." He put his arms around her. "The baby. Is it coming?"

Sandra smiled. "Anytime now. I'd feel safer if I were back there, closer to Dr. Bailey. Mother said she'd come and stay with me."

"Of course. You have to go back," David said. "I lost track of time. He's due in three weeks, isn't he?"

"Yes." He grimaced. "And I can't be there with you."

Sandra took his hand. "Don't be upset, darling. This trial's going to be over soon."

"This goddamn trial is ruining our lives."

"David, we're going to be fine. My old job's waiting for me. After the baby comes, I can—" David said, "I'm so sorry, Sandra. I wish—"

"David, don't ever be sorry for doing something you believe is right."

"I love you."

"I love you."

He stroked her stomach. "I love you both." He sighed. "All right I'll help you pack. I'll drive you back to San Francisco tonight and—"

"No," Sandra said firmly. "You can't leave here. I'll ask Emily to come and pick me up."

"Ask her if she can join us here for dinner tonight."

"All right."

Emily had been delighted. "Of course I'll come to pick you up." And she had arrived in San Jose two hours later.

The three of them had dinner that evening at Chai Jane.

"It's terrible timing," Emily said. "I hate to see you two away from each other right now."

"The trial's almost over," David said hopefully. "Maybe it will end before the baby comes." Emily smiled. "We'll have a double celebration."

It was time to go. David held Sandra in his arms. "I'll talk to you every night," he said.

"Please don't worry about me. I'll be fine. I love you very much." Sandra looked at him and said, "Take care of yourself, David. You look tired."

It wasn't until Sandra left that David realized how utterly alone he was.

Court was in session. ÑÙÒ

Mickey Brennan rose and addressed the court. "I would like to call Dr. Lawrence Larkin as my next witness."

A distinguished gray-haired man was sworn in and took the stand.

"I want to thank you for being here. Dr. Larkin. I know your time is very valuable. Would you tell us a little about your background?"

"I have a successful practice in Chicago. I'm a past resident of the Chicago Psychiatric Association."

"How many years have you been in practice, Doctor?"

"Approximately thirty years."

"And as a psychiatrist, I imagine you've seen many cases of multiple personality disorder?"

"No."

Brennan frowned. "When you say no, you mean you haven't seen a lot of them? Maybe a dozen?"

"I've never seen one case of multiple personality disorder."

Brennan looked at the jury in mock dismay, then back at the doctor. "In thirty years of working with mentally disturbed patients, you have never seen a single case of multiple personality disorder?"

"That's correct."

"I'm amazed. How do you explain that?"

"It's very simple. I don't think that multiple personality disorder exists."

"Well, I'm puzzled. Doctor. Haven't cases of multiple personality disorder been reported?"

Dr. Larkin snorted. "Being reported doesn't mean they're real. You see, what some doctors believe is MPD, they're confusing with schizophrenia, depressions and various other anxiety disorders."

"That's very interesting. So in your opinion, as an expert psychiatrist, you don't believe that multiple personality disorder even exists?"

"That is correct."

"Thank you. Doctor." Mickey Brennan turned to David. "Your witness."

David rose and walked over to the witness box. "You are a past president of the Chicago Psychiatric Association, Dr. Larkin?"

"Yes."

"You must have met a great many of your peers."

"Yes. I'm proud to say that I have."

"Do you know Dr. Royce Salem?"

"Yes. I know him very well."

"Is he a good psychiatrist?"

"Excellent. One of the best."

"Did you ever meet Dr. Clyde Donovan?"

"Yes. Many times."

"Would you say that he's a good psychiatrist?"

"I would use him"—a small chuckle—"if I needed one."

"And what about Dr. Ingram? Do you know him?"

"Ray Ingram? Indeed, I do. Fine man."

"Competent psychiatrist?"

"Oh, yes."

"Tell me, do all psychiatrists agree on every mental condition?"

"No. Of course we have some disagreements. Psychiatry is not an exact science."

"That's interesting. Doctor. Because Dr. Salem, Dr. Donovan and Dr. Ingram are going to come here and testify that they have treated cases of multiple personality disorder. Perhaps none of them is as competent as you are. That's all. No further questions." Judge Williams turned to Brennan. "Redirect?" Brennan got to his feet and walked over to the witness box.