Read Tell Me Your Dreams Online

Authors: Sidney Sheldon

Tell Me Your Dreams (17 page)

There were two men and two women seated in the booth next to him. One of the men was saying, “She’s a hell of a lot worse than Lizzie Borden. Borden killed only two people.”

The other man added, “And
she
didn’t castrate them.”

“What do you think they’ll do to her?”

“Are you kidding? She’ll get the death sentence.”

“Too bad the Butcher Bitch can’t get three death sentences.”

That’s the public speaking,
David thought. He had the depressing feeling that if he walked around the restaurant, he would hear variations of the same comments. Brennan had built her up as a monster. He could hear Quiller’s voice.
“If you don’t put her on the stand, that’s the image the jurors will carry in their minds when they go into the jury room to reach a verdict.”

I’ve got to take the chance. I’ve got to let the jurors see for themselves that Ashley’s telling the truth.

The waitress was at his side. “Are you ready to order, Mr. Singer?”

“I’ve changed my mind,” David said. “I’m not hungry.” As he got up and walked out of the restaurant, he could feel baleful eyes following him.
I hope they’re not armed,
David thought.

Chapter Twenty

W
EN
David returned to the courthouse, he visited Ashley in her cell. She was seated on the little cot, staring at the floor.

“Ashley.”

She looked up, her eyes filled with despair.

David sat next to her. “We have to talk.”

She watched him, silent.

“These terrible things they’re saying about you…none of them are true. But the jurors don’t know that. They don’t know you. We’ve got to let them see what you’re really like.”

Ashley looked at him and said dully, “What am I really like?”

“You’re a decent human being who has an illness. They’ll sympathize with that.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to get on the witness stand and testify.”

She was staring at him, horrified. “I—I can’t. I don’t know anything. I can’t tell them anything.”

“Let me handle that. All you have to do is answer my questions.”

A guard came up to the cell. “Court’s coming into session.” David rose and squeezed Ashley’s hand. “It’s going to work. You’ll see.”

“All rise. Court is now in session. The Honorable Judge Tessa Williams presiding in the case of
The People of the State of California Versus Ashley Patterson.”

Judge Williams took her seat on the bench.

David said, “May I approach the bench?”

“You may.”

Mickey Brennan walked to the bench with David.

“What is it, Mr. Singer?”

“I’d like to call a witness who’s not on the discovery list.”

Brennan said, “It’s awfully late in the trial to introduce new witnesses.”

“I would like to call Ashley Patterson as my next witness.”

Judge Williams said, “I don’t—”

Mickey Brennan said quickly, “The state has no objection, Your Honor.”

Judge Williams looked at the two attorneys. “Very well. You may call your witness, Mr. Singer.”

“Thank you, Your Honor.” He walked over to Ashley and held out his hand. “Ashley…”

She sat there in a panic.

“You must.”

She rose, her heart palpitating, and slowly made her way to the witness stand.

Mickey Brennan whispered to Eleanor, “I was praying that he’d call her.”

Eleanor nodded. “It’s over.”

Ashley Patterson was being sworn in by the court clerk. “You do solemnly swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help you God?”

“I do.” Her voice was a whisper. Ashley took her seat in the witness box.

David walked over to her. He said gently, “I know this is very difficult for you. You’ve been accused of horrible crimes that you did not commit. All I want is for the jury to know the truth. Do you have any memory of committing any of those crimes?”

Ashley shook her head. “No.”

David glanced at the jury, then went on. “Did you know Dennis Tibbie?”

“Yes. We worked together at Global Computer Graphics Corporation.”

“Did you have any reason to kill Dennis Tibbie?”

“No.” It was difficult for her to speak. “I—I went to his apartment to give him some advice that he had asked me for, and that was the last time I saw him.”

“Did you know Richard Melton?”

“No…”

“He was an artist. He was murdered in San Francisco. The police found evidence of your DNA and fingerprints there.”

Ashley was shaking her head from side to side. “I—I don’t know what to say. I didn’t know him!”

“You knew Deputy Sam Blake?”

“Yes. He was helping me. I didn’t kill him!”

“Are you aware that you have two other personalities, or alters, within you, Ashley?”

“Yes.” Her voice was strained.

“When did you learn this?”

“Before the trial. Dr. Salem told me about it. I couldn’t believe it. I—I still can’t believe it. It’s—it’s too awful.”

“You had no previous knowledge of these alters.”

“No.”

“You had never heard of Toni Prescott or Alette Peters?”

“No!”

“Do you believe now that they exist within you?”

“Yes…I have to believe it. They must have done all these—these horrible things.…”

“So you have no recollection of ever having met Richard Melton, you had no motive for killing Dennis Tibbie or for killing Deputy Sam Blake, who was at your apartment to protect you?”

“That’s right.” Her eyes swept over the crowded courtroom, and she felt a sense of panic.

“One last question,” David said. “Have you ever been in trouble with the law?”

“Never.”

David put his hand on hers. “That’s all for now.” He turned to Mickey Brennan. “Your witness.”

Brennan rose, a big smile on his face. “Well, Miss Patterson, we finally get to talk to all of you. Did you ever, at any time, have sexual intercourse with Dennis Tibbie?”

“No.”

“Did you ever have sexual intercourse with Richard Melton?”

“No.”

“Did you ever, at any time, have sexual intercourse with Deputy Samuel Blake?”

“No.”

“That’s very interesting.” Brennan glanced at the jury. “Because traces of a vaginal discharge were found on the bodies of all three men. The DNA tests matched your DNA.”

“I…I don’t know anything about that.”

“Maybe you’ve been framed. Maybe some fiend got hold of it—”

“Objection! It’s argumentative.”

“Overruled.”

“—and planted it on those three mutilated bodies. Do you have any enemies who would do such a thing to you?”

“I…don’t know.”

“The FBI’s fingerprint lab checked the fingerprints the police found at the scenes of the crimes. And I’m sure this will surprise you—

“Objection.”

“Sustained. Be careful, Mr. Brennan.”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

Satisfied, David slowly sat down.

Ashley was on the verge of hysteria. “The alters must have—”

“The fingerprints at the scenes of the three murders were yours, and yours alone.”

Ashley sat there, silent.

Brennan walked over to a table, picked up a butcher knife wrapped in cellophane and held it up. “Do you recognize this?”

“It—it could be one of…one of my—”

“One of your knives? It is. It has already been admitted into evidence. The stains on it match the blood of Deputy Blake. Your fingerprints are on this murder weapon.”

Ashley was mindlessly shaking her head from side to side.

“I’ve never seen a clearer case of cold-blooded murder or a more feeble defense. Hiding behind two nonexistent, imaginary characters is the most—”

David was on his feet again. “Objection.”

“Sustained. I’ve already warned you, Mr. Brennan.”

“Sorry, Your Honor.”

Brennan went on. “I’m sure that the jury would like to meet the characters you’re talking about. You are Ashley Patterson, correct?”

“Yes…”

“Fine. I would like to talk to Toni Prescott.”

“I…I can’t bring her out.”

Brennan looked at her in surprise. “You
can’t? Really?
Well, then, how about Alette Peters?”

Ashley shook her head despairingly. “I…I don’t control them.”

“Miss Patterson, I’m trying to help you,” Brennan said. “I want to show the jury your alters who killed and mutilated three innocent men. Bring them out!”

“I…I can’t.” She was sobbing.

“You can’t because they don’t exist! You’re hiding behind
phantoms. You’re the only one sitting in that box, and you’re the only one who’s guilty. They don’t exist, but
you
do, and I’ll tell you what else exists—irrefutable, undeniable proof that you murdered three men and cold-bloodedly emasculated them.” He turned to Judge Williams. “Your Honor, the state rests.”

David turned to look at the jury. They were all staring at Ashley and their faces were filled with repulsion.

Judge Williams turned to David. “Mr. Singer?”

David rose. “Your Honor, I would like permission to have the defendant hypnotized so that—”

Judge Williams said curtly, “Mr. Singer, I warned you before that I will not have this trial turned into a sideshow. You can’t hypnotize her in
my
courtroom. The answer is no.”

David said fiercely, “You
have
to let me do this. You don’t know how important—”

“That’s enough, Mr. Singer.” Her voice was ice. “I’m citing you a second time for contempt. Do you want to reexamine the witness or don’t you?”

David stood there, frustrated. “Yes, Your Honor.” He walked over to the witness box. “Ashley, you know you’re under oath?”

“Yes.” She was taking deep breaths, fighting to control herself.

“And everything you’ve said is the truth as you know it?”

“Yes.”

“You know that there are two alters in your mind and body and soul who you have no control over?”

“Yes.”

“Toni and Alette?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t commit any of those terrible murders?”

“No.”

“One of them did, and you’re not responsible.”

Eleanor looked at Brennan questioningly, but he smiled and shook his head. “Let him hang himself,” he whispered.

“Helen—” David stopped, white-faced at his slip. “I mean, Ashley…I want you to have Toni come out.”

Ashley looked at David and shook her head helplessly. “I—I can’t,” she whispered.

David said, “Yes, you can. Toni is listening to us right now. She’s enjoying herself, and why shouldn’t she? She got away with three murders.” He raised his voice. “You’re very clever, Toni. Come on out and take a bow. No one can touch you. They can’t punish you because Ashley is innocent, and they’d have to punish her to get at you.”

Everyone in the courtroom was staring at David. Ashley sat there, frozen.

David moved closer to her. “Toni! Toni, can you hear me? I want you to come out.
Now!”

He waited a moment. Nothing happened. He raised his voice. “Toni! Alette! Come out! Come on out. We all know you’re in there!”

There was not a sound in the courtroom.

David lost control. He was yelling, “Come out. Show your faces.. ..
Damn it! Now! Now!”

Ashley dissolved in tears.

Judge Williams said furiously, “Approach the bench, Mr. Singer.”

Slowly, David walked over to the bench.

“Are you through badgering your client, Mr. Singer? I’m going to send a report of your behavior to the state bar association. You’re a disgrace to your profession, and I’m going to recommend that you’re disbarred.”

David had no answer.

“Do you have any more witnesses to call?”

David shook his head defeated. “No, Your Honor.”

It was over. He had lost. Ashley was going to die.

“The defense rests.”

Joseph Kincaid was seated in the last row of the courtroom, watching, his face grim. He turned to Harvey Udell. “Get rid of him.” Kincaid got up and left.

Udell stopped David as he was leaving the courtroom.

“David…”

“Hello, Harvey.”

“Sorry about the way this turned out.”

“It’s not—”

“Mr. Kincaid hates to do this, but, well, he thinks it would be better if you didn’t come back to the firm. Good luck.”

The moment David stepped outside the courtroom, he was surrounded by television cameras and shouting reporters.

“Do you have a statement, Mr. Singer .. . ?”

“We hear Judge Williams says you’re going to be disbarred.…”

“Judge Williams says she’s going to hold you for contempt of court. Do you think you—?”

“The experts feel you’ve lost this case. Do you plan to appeal…?”

“Our network legal experts say that your client will get the death penalty.…”

“Have you made any plans for the future…?”

David got into his car without a word and drove away.

Chapter Twenty-one

H
E
rewrote the scenes in his mind, over and over again, endlessly.

I saw the news this morning, Dr. Patterson. I can’t tell you how very sorry I am.

Yes. It’s been quite a blow. I need your help, David.

Of course. Anything I can do.

I want you to represent Ashley.

I can’t do that. I’m not a criminal defense lawyer. But I can recommend a great attorney, Jesse Quiller.

That will be fine. Thank you, David.…

You’re an anxious young fellow, aren’t you? Our meeting wasn’t supposed to be until five o’clock. Well, I have good news for you. We’re making you a partner.

You asked to see me?

Yes, Your Honor. They’re talking about this trial on the Internet, and they’ve already convicted the defendant. This could seriously damage the defense. Therefore, I’m making a motion for a mistrial.

I think those are excellent grounds for a mistrial, Mr. Singer. I’m going to grant it…

The bitter-tasting game of “what if."…

The following morning, the court was in session.

“Is the prosecution ready to make its closing argument?” Brennan stood up. He walked over to the jury box and looked at the jurors one by one.

“You’re in a position to make history here. If you believe that the defendant is really a lot of different people and she’s not responsible for what she’s done, for the terrible crimes she committed, and you let her go, then you’re saying that anybody can get away with murder by simply claiming that they didn’t do it, that some mysterious alter ego did it. They can rob, rape and kill, and are they guilty? No. ’I didn’t do it. My alter ego did it.’ Ken or Joe or Suzy or whatever they want to call themselves. Well, I think you’re all too intelligent to fall for that fantasy. The reality is in those photographs you looked at. Those people weren’t murdered by any alter egos. They were all deliberately,
calculatedly, cruelly murdered by the defendant sitting at that table, Ashley Patterson. Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, what the defense has tried to do in this court has been tried before. In
Mann Versus Teller,
the decision was that a finding of MPD does not, per se, require a finding of acquittal. In
United States Versus Whirley,
a nurse who murdered a baby pleaded that she had MPD. The court found her guilty.

“You know, I almost feel sorry for the defendant. All those characters living in that poor girl. I’m sure none of us would want a bunch of crazy strangers moving around inside us, would we? Going around murdering and castrating men. I’d be scared.”

He turned to look at Ashley. “The defendant doesn’t seem scared, does she? Not too scared to put on a pretty dress and comb her hair nicely and apply makeup. She doesn’t seem scared at all. She thinks you’re going to believe her story and let her go. No one can prove whether this multiple personality disorder really exists at all, so we’re going to have to make our own judgments.

“The defense claims that these characters come out and take over. Let’s see—there’s Toni; she was born in England. And Alette; she was born in Italy. They’re all the same person. They were just born in different countries at different times. Does that confuse you? I know it confuses me. I offered the defendant a chance to let us see her alters, but she didn’t take me up on it. I wonder why? Could it be because they don’t exist…? Does California law recognize MPD as a mental condition? No. Colorado law? No. Mississippi? No. Federal law? No. As a matter of fact,
no
state has a law confirming MPD as a legal defense. And why? Because it
isn’t
a defense. Ladies and gentlemen, it’s a fictitious alibi to escape punishment.…”

“What the defense is asking you to believe is that there are two people inside the defendant, so no one bears any responsibility for her criminal actions. But there is only one defendant sitting in this courtroom—Ashley Patterson. We have proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that she is a murderer. But she claims she didn’t commit the crimes. That was done by someone else, someone who borrowed her body to kill innocent people—her alters. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we all had alters, someone to carry out anything we secretly wanted done that society doesn’t permit? Or maybe not. Would you like to live in a world where people could go around murdering others and say, ’You can’t touch me, my alter did it’ and ’You can’t punish my alter because my alter is really me’?

“But this trial is not about some mythical characters who don’t exist. The defendant, Ashley Patterson, is on trial for three vicious, cold-blooded murders, and the state is asking the death penalty. Thank you.”

Mickey Brennan returned to his seat.

“Is the defense ready to present its closing argument?”

David rose. He walked to the jury box and looked into the faces of the jurors, and what he saw there was disheartening. “I know that this has been a very difficult case for all of us. You’ve heard experts testify that they’ve treated multiple personality disorder, and you’ve heard other experts testify that there is no such thing. You’re not doctors, so no one expects you to make your judgment based on medical knowledge. I want to apologize to all of you if my behavior yesterday seemed boorish. I yelled at Ashley Patterson only because I wanted to force her alters to come out. I’ve talked to those alters. I know they exist. There really is an Alette and a Toni, and they can control Ashley anytime they want to. She has no knowledge of committing any murders.

“I told you at the beginning of this trial that for someone to be convicted of first-degree murder, there has to be physical evidence and a motive. There is no motive here, ladies and gentlemen. None. And the law says that the prosecution must prove a defendant is guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. I’m sure you’ll agree that in this case, there
is
a reasonable doubt.

“As far as proof is concerned, the defense does not question it. There are Ashley Patterson’s fingerprints and traces of DNA at each of the crime scenes. But the very fact that they are there should give us pause. Ashley Patterson is an intelligent young woman. If she committed a murder and did not want to be caught, would she have been stupid enough to leave her fingerprints at each one of the scenes? The answer is no.”

David went on for another thirty minutes. At the end, he looked at their faces and was not reassured. He sat down.

Judge Williams turned to the jurors. “I want to instruct you now on the applicable law to this case. I want you to listen carefully.” She talked for the next twenty minutes, detailing what was admissible and allowable by law.

“If you have any questions, or want any part of the testimony read back to you, the court reporter will do so. The jury is excused to go deliberate. Court is adjourned until they return with their verdict.”

David watched the jury file out of the box and into the jury room.
The longer the jurors take, the better our chances,
David thought.

The jurors returned forty-five minutes later.

David and Ashley watched as the jurors filed in and took their seats in the jury box. Ashley was stone-faced. David found that he was perspiring.

Judge Williams turned to the jury foreman. “Have the jurors reached a verdict?”

“We have, Your Honor.”

“Would you please hand it to the bailiff.”

The bailiff carried the piece of paper to the judge. Judge Williams unfolded it. There was not a sound in the courtroom.

The bailiff returned the paper to the jury foreman.

“Would you read the verdict, please?”

In a slow, measured tone, he read, “In the case of
The People of the State of California Versus Ashley Patterson,
we, the jury, in the above entitled action, find the defendant, Ashley Patterson, guilty of the murder of Dennis Tibbie, a violation of Penal Code Section 187.”

There was a gasp in the courtroom. Ashley shut her eyes tightly.

“In the case of
The People of the State of California Versus Ashley Patterson,
we, the jury, in the above entitled action, find the defendant, Ashley Patterson, guilty of the murder of Deputy Samuel Blake, a violation of Penal Code Section 187.

“In the case of
The People of the State of California Versus Ashley Patterson,
we, the jury, in the above entitled action, find the defendant, Ashley Patterson, guilty of the murder of Richard Melton, a violation of Penal Code Section 187. We, the jury, in all the verdicts, further fix the degree at first degree.”

David was finding it difficult to breathe. He turned to Ashley, but he had no words. He leaned over and put his arms around her.

Judge Williams said, “I would like to have the jury polled.”

One by one, each juror stood up.

“Was the verdict read, your verdict?”

And when each one had affirmed it, Judge Williams said, “The verdict will be recorded and entered into the minutes.” She went on. “I want to thank the jury for their time and service in this case. You’re dismissed. Tomorrow the court will take up the issue of sanity.”

David sat there, numb, watching Ashley being led away.

Judge Williams got up and walked to her chambers without looking at David. Her attitude told David more clearly than words what her decision was going to be in the morning. Ashley was going to be sentenced to die.

Sandra called from San Francisco. “Are you all right, David?”

He tried to sound cheerful. “Yes, I’m great. How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. I’ve been watching the news on television. The judge wasn’t fair to you. She can’t have you disbarred. You were only trying to help your client.”

He had no answer.

“I’m so sorry, David. I wish I were with you. I could drive down and—”

“No,” David said. “We can’t take any chances. Did you see the doctor today?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say?”

“Very soon now. Any day.”

Happy birthday, Jeffrey.

Jesse Quiller called.

“I bungled it,” David said.

“Like hell you did. You got the wrong judge. What did you ever do to get her so down on you?”

David said, “She wanted me to plea-bargain. She didn’t want this to go to trial. Maybe I should have listened to her.”

All the television channels were full of the news of his disgrace. He watched one of the network’s legal experts discussing the case.

“I’ve never heard of a defending attorney screaming at his own client before. I must tell you, the courtroom was stunned. It was one of the most outrageous—”

David switched off the station.
Where did it all go wrong? Life is supposed to have a happy ending. Because I’ve bungled everything, Ashley’s going to die, I’m going to he disbarred, the baby’s going to be born any minute and I don’t even have a job.

He sat in his hotel room in the middle of the night, staring into the darkness. It was the lowest moment of his life. Playing over and over again in his mind was the final courtroom scene.
“You can’t hypnotize her in my courtroom. The answer is no.”

If only she had let me hypnotize Ashley on the stand, I know she would have convinced the jury.
Too late. It’s all over now.

And a small, nagging voice in his mind said,
Who says it’s over? I don’t hear the fat lady singing.

There’s nothing more I can do.

Your client is innocent. Are you going to let her die?

Leave me alone.

Judge Williams’s words kept echoing in his mind.
“You can’t hypnotize her in my courtroom.”

And three words kept repeating themselves—
in my courtroom.”

At five o’clock in the morning, David made two excited, urgent phone calls. As he finished, the sun was just beginning to appear over the horizon.
It’s an omen,
David thought.
We’re going to win.

A little later, David hurried into an antiques store.

The clerk approached him. “May I help you, sir?” He recognized David. “Mr. Singer.”

“I’m looking for a folding Chinese screen. Do you have something like that?”

“Yes, we do. We don’t have any real antique screens, but—”

“Let’s see what you have.”

“Certainly.” He led David over to the section where there were several Chinese folding screens. The clerk pointed to the first one. “Now, this one—”

“That’s fine,” David said.

“Yes, sir. Where shall I send it?”

“I’ll take it with me.”

David’s next stop was at a hardware store, where he bought a Swiss Army knife. Fifteen minutes later, he was walking into the lobby of the courthouse carrying the screen. He said to the guard at the desk, “I made arrangements to interview Ashley Patterson. I have permission to use Judge Goldberg’s chambers. He’s not here today.”

The guard said, “Yes, sir. It’s all set. I’ll have the defendant brought up. Dr. Salem and another man are already up there, waiting.”

“Thank you.”

The guard watched David carry the Chinese screen into the elevator.
Crazy as a loon,
he thought.

Judge Goldberg’s chamber was a comfortable-looking room with a desk facing the window, a swivel chair, and near one wall a couch and several chairs. Dr. Salem and another man were standing in the room when David entered.

“Sorry I’m late,” David said.

Dr. Salem said, “This is Hugh Iverson. He’s the expert you asked for.”

The two men shook hands. “Let’s get set up fast,” David said. “Ashley’s on her way here.”

He turned to Hugh Iverson and pointed to a corner of the room. “How’s that for you?”

“Fine.”

He watched Iverson go to work. A few minutes later, the door opened and Ashley entered with a guard.

“I’ll have to stay in the room,” the guard said.

David nodded. “That’s all right.” He turned to Ashley. “Sit down, please.”

He watched her take a seat. “First of all, I want to tell you how terribly sorry I am about the way things went.”

She nodded, almost dazed.

“But it’s not over yet. We still have a chance.”

She looked at him with disbelieving eyes.

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