The 6th Target

"Would they hear voices, Dr. Friedman?"

"Yes, many do. That would be one of the schizoid aspects of this disease."

"Threatening voices?"

"Yes." Friedman smiled. "That would be the paranoia."

"Did Mr. Brinkley tell you that he thought people on television were talking to him?"

"Yes. That's also a fairly common symptom of schizoaffective disorder – an example of a break from reality. And the paranoia makes him think that the voices are aimed at him."

"Could you explain what you mean when you refer to a 'break from reality'?"

"Certainly. From the onset of Mr. Brinkley's disease in his teens, there has always been a distortion in the way he thinks and acts, in how he expresses his emotions. Most important, in how he perceives reality. That's the psychotic element – his inability to tell what is real from what is imagined."

"Thank you, Dr. Friedman," Sherman said. "Now bringing us up to the recent events that brought Mr. Brinkley to trial. What can you tell us about that?"

"With schizoaffective disorder, there is generally a precipitate that causes an increase in crazy behavior. In my judgment, that precipitate for Mr. Brinkley would have been when he got fired from his job. The loss of his routine, the subsequent eviction from his apartment, all of that would have exacerbated his illness."

"I see. Dr. Friedman, did Mr. Brinkley tell you about the ferry shooting?"

"Yes. I learned in our sessions that Mr. Brinkley hadn't been on a boat since his sister died in a sailing accident when he was sixteen. On the day of the ferry incident, there was an additional precipitate. Mr. Brinkley saw a sailboat. And that triggered the event. In layman's terms, that sent him over the edge. He couldn't distinguish between illusion and reality."

"Did Mr. Brinkley tell you that he was hearing voices on the ferry?"

"Yes. He said that they were telling him to kill. You have to understand that Fred has a fierce underlying anger about his sister's death, and that manifested itself in this explosive rage.

"The people on the ferry weren't real to him. They were only a backdrop to his delusions. The voices were his reality, and the only way he could stop them was to obey."

"Dr. Friedman," Sherman said, touching his upper lip with the tip of his forefinger, "can you state with a reasonable degree of medical certainty that when Mr. Brinkley obeyed those voices and shot the passengers on the ferry, he did not appreciate the difference between right and wrong?"

"Yes. Based on my interviews with Mr. Brinkley and my twenty years of experience working with the severely mentally impaired, it is my opinion that at the time of the shooting, Alfred Brinkley suffered from a mental disease or defect that prevented him from knowing right from wrong. I am absolutely convinced of it."

Chapter 94

DAVID HALE PUSHED A NOTE over to Yuki – a cartoon drawing of a large bulldog with a spiked collar and drool dripping from its jowls. The voice balloon said, "Go get 'em."

Yuki smiled, thought about Len Parisi taking a wide-legged stance in the middle of this oaken courtroom and shredding Mickey Sherman's hired shrink to ribbons.

She drew a circle around the cartoon, underscored it. Then she stood, speaking before she reached the podium.

"Dr. Friedman, you're quite well known as an expert witness, isn't that right?"

Friedman said that he was and that he'd testified for both prosecution and defense teams over the past nine years.

"In this case, the defense hired you?"

"Yes. That's right."

"And how much were you paid?"

Friedman looked up at Judge Moore, who peered down at him. "Please answer the question, Dr. Friedman."

"I was paid about eight thousand dollars."

"Eight thousand dollars. Okay. And how long were you treating Mr. Brinkley?"

"Mr. Brinkley wasn't technically my patient."

"Oh," said Yuki. "Then let me ask you, can you diagnose someone that you've never treated?"

"I've had three sessions with Mr. Brinkley, during which time I also gave him a battery of psychological tests. And yes, I can assess Mr. Brinkley without treating him," Friedman sniffed.

"So based on three interviews and these tests, you believe that the defendant was unable to understand right from wrong at the time of the killings?"

"That's correct."

"You didn't give him an X-ray and find a tumor pressing against a lobe of his brain, did you?"

"No, of course not."

"So how do we know that Mr. Brinkley wasn't lying and skewing the test results so he wouldn't be found guilty of murder?"

"He couldn't do that," Friedman said. "You see, the test questions are like a built-in lie detector. They're repeated in many different ways, and if the answers are consistent, then the patient is telling the truth."

"Doctor, you use those tests because you can't really know what's in the patient's mind, can you?"

"Well, you also make a judgment based on behavior."

"I see. Dr. Friedman, are you aware of the legal term 'consciousness of guilt'?"

"Yes. It refers to actions a person may take that show the person is aware what he or she did was wrong."

"Well put, Doctor," Yuki said. "Now, if someone shoots five people and then runs away, as Alfred Brinkley did, doesn't that show consciousness of guilt? Doesn't it show that Mr. Brinkley knew what he'd done was wrong?"

"Look, Ms. Castellano, not everything a person does when he's in a psychotic state is illogical. People on that ferry were screaming, coming at him with intent to harm him. He ran. Most people finding themselves in that situation would have run."

Yuki stole a look at David, who gave her an encouraging nod. She wished he'd beam her something to nail Friedman with because she didn't have it.

And then she did.

"Dr. Friedman, does gut instinct play any part in your assessment?"

"Well, sure. Gut instinct, or intuition, is made up of many layers of experience. So, yes, I used gut instinct as well as formal psychological protocol in my assessment."

"And did you determine whether or not Mr. Brinkley is dangerous?"

"I interviewed Mr. Brinkley both before and after he was put on Risperdal, and it is my opinion that, properly medicated, Mr. Brinkley is not dangerous."

Yuki put both her hands on the witness box, looked Friedman in the eye, ignored everything and everyone in the courtroom, and spoke from the fear she felt every time she looked at that freak sitting next to Mickey Sherman.

"Dr. Friedman, you interviewed Mr. Brinkley behind bars. Check your gut instinct on this: Would you feel comfortable riding home in a cab with Mr. Brinkley? Would you feel safe having di

Mickey Sherman leaped to his feet. "Your Honor, I object. Those questions should be taken out and shot."

"Sustained," the judge grumbled.

"I'm done with this witness, Your Honor," Yuki said.