"Thanks," David said. "I—I can't tell you how much I appreciate this, Jesse."

Jesse smiled. "You're going to pay me back. Remember?"

Sandra arrived a few minutes later. "I'm ready," she said. "Where do we begin?"

"We begin by looking up every case we can find on multiple personality trials. There's probably a ton of stuff on die Internet. We'll try the California Criminal Law Observer, the Court TV site and some other criminal law links, and we'll gather whatever useful information we can get from Westlaw and Lexis-Nexis. Next, we get hold of doctors who specialize in multiple personality problems, and we contact them as possible expert witnesses. We'll need to interview them and see if we can use their testimony to strengthen our case. I'll have to brush up on criminal court procedures and get ready for voir dire. We've also got to get a list of the district attorney's witnesses and the witnesses' statements. I want his whole discovery package."

"And we have to send him ours. Are you going to call Ashley to the stand?"

David shook his head. "She's much too fragile. The prosecution would tear her apart." He looked up at Sandra. "This is going to be a hard one to win."

Sandra smiled. "But you're going to win it. I know you are."

David put in a call to Harvey Udell, the accountant at Kincaid, Turner, Rose & Ripley.

"Harvey. David Singer."

"Hello, David. I hear you're leaving us for a little while."

"Yes."

"That's an interesting case you're taking on. The papers are full of it. What can I do for you?"

David said, "I have sixty thousand dollars in my pension plan there, Harvey. I wasn't going to take it out this early, but Sandra and I just bought a penthouse, and I'm going to need the money for a down payment."

"A penthouse. Well, congratulations."

"Thanks. How soon can I get the money?"

There was a brief hesitation. "Can I get back to you?"

"Of course." David gave him his telephone number.

"I'll call you right back."

"Thanks."

Harvey Udell replaced the receiver and then picked up the telephone again. "Tell Mr. Kincaid I'd like to see him."

Thirty minutes later he was in Joseph Kincaid's office. "What is it, Harvey?"

"I got a call from David Singer, Mr. Kincaid. He's bought a penthouse, and he needs the sixty thousand he has in his pension fund for a down payment. In my opinion, we're not obligated to give him the money now. He's on leave, and he's not—"

"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?"