The 6th Target

"You've also heard from Dr. Sandy Friedman, a highly regarded clinical and forensic psychiatrist who examined Mr. Brinkley three times and diagnosed him with schizoaffective disorder," Sherman said, pacing now as he talked.

"Dr. Friedman told us that at the time of the crime, Fred Brinkley was in a psychotic, delusional state. He was suffering from a mental disease or defect that prevented him from conforming his conduct to the laws of society. That's the definition of legal insanity.

"This is not a lawyer-created illness," Sherman said. He walked two paces to the defense table and picked up a heavy hardcover book.

"This is the DSM-IV, the diagnostic bible of the psychiatric profession. You'll have it with you in the deliberation room so that you can read that schizoaffective disorder is a psychosis – a severe mental illness that drives the actions of the person who has it.

"My client is not admirable," he said. "We're not trying to pin a medal on him. But Fred Brinkley is not a criminal, and nothing in his past suggests otherwise. His conduct yesterday demonstrated his illness. What sane man asks the jury to have him put to death?"

Sherman went back to the defense table, put down the book, and sipped from his water glass before returning to the lectern.

"The evidence of insanity is overwhelming in this case. Fred Brinkley did not kill for love or hate or money or thrills. He is not evil. He's sick. And I'm asking you today to do the only fair thing.

"Find Fred Brinkley 'not guilty' by reason of insanity.

"And trust the system to keep the citizens safe from this man."

Chapter 122

"IT'S TOO BAD you guys didn't catch Yuki's close," Cindy said, putting an affectionate arm around Yuki, beaming across the table at Claire and myself. "It was killer."

"This would be your impartial journalistic point of view?" Yuki asked, coloring a little but smiling as she tucked her hair behind her ears.

"Hell, no." Cindy laughed. "This is me speaking. Off the record."

We were at MacBain's, across from the Hall, all four of us with our cell phones on the table. Sydney MacBain, our waitress and the owner's daughter, brought four glasses and two tall bottles of mineral water.

"Water, water, everywhere," Syd said. "What's up, ladies? This is a bar, ya know what I mean?"

I answered by pointing at each of us. "It's like this, Syd. Working. Working. Working." I pointed to Claire and said, "Pregnant and working."

Sydney laughed, congratulated Claire, took our orders, and headed to the kitchen.

"So does he hear voices?" I asked Yuki.

"Maybe. But a lot of people hear voices. Five to ten thousand in San Francisco alone. Probably a couple of them here in this bar. Don't see any of them shooting the place up. Fred Brinkley might very well hear voices. But that day? He knew what he was doing was wrong."

"The bastard," said Claire. "That's me, speaking on the record as a very biased eyewitness and victim."

That day flooded back to me with sickening clarity -the blood-slicked deck and the screaming passengers and how scared I was that Claire might die. I remembered hugging Willie and thanking God that Brinkley's last shot had missed him.

I asked Yuki, "You think the jury will vote to convict?"

"I du

Chapter 123

IT WAS AFTER TWO IN THE AFTERNOON, day three since the jury had begun their deliberation, when Yuki got the call. A shock went through her.

This was it.

She sat rigid in her seat for a moment, just blinking. Then she snapped out of it.

She paged Leonard and speed-dialed Claire, Cindy, and Lindsay, all of whom were within minutes of the courtroom. She got up from her desk, crossed the hall, and leaned into David's cubicle.

"They're back!"

David put down his tuna sandwich and followed Yuki to the elevator, which they then rode to the ground floor.

They crossed the main lobby, went through the leather-studded double doors to the second lobby, cleared security outside the courtroom, and after going through the glassed-in vestibule, took their places behind the table.

The courtroom had filled up as word spread. Court TV set up their cameras. Reporters from the local papers and stringers from the tabloids, wire services and national news, filled the back row. Cindy was on the aisle.

Yuki saw Claire and Lindsay sitting in the midsection, but she didn't see the defendant's mother, Elena Brinkley, anywhere.

Mickey Sherman came through the gate wearing a flattering dark-blue suit. He put his metallic briefcase down in front of him, nodded to Yuki, and made a phone call.

Yuki's phone rang. "Len," she said, reading his name off the caller ID, there's a verdict."

"I'm at my fucking cardiologist," Len told her. "Keep me posted."

The side door to the left of the bench opened, and the bailiff entered with Alfred Brinkley.

Chapter 124

BRINKLEY'S BANDAGE HAD BEEN REMOVED, exposing a line of stitches ru

The bailiff unlocked Brinkley's waist chains and handcuffs, and the defendant sat down beside his lawyer.

The door to the right of the jury box opened, and the twelve jurors and two alternates walked into the courtroom, dressed up, hair sprayed and styled, a sprinkling of jewelry on the women's hands and around their necks. They didn't look at Yuki and they didn't look at the defendant. In fact, they looked tense, as though they may have been fighting over the verdict until an hour ago.

The door behind the bench opened, and Judge Moore entered his courtroom. He cleaned his glasses as court was called into session, then said, "Mr. Foreman, I understand that the jury has a verdict?"

"We do, Your Honor."

"Would you please hand your verdict to the bailiff."

The foreman was a carpenter, with shoulder-length blond hair and nicotine-stained fingers. He looked keyed up as he gave a folded form to the bailiff, who brought it to the bench.

Judge Moore unfolded the form and looked at it. He asked the people in the gallery to please respect the protocol of the court and to not react outwardly when the verdict was read.

Yuki clasped her hands on the table before her. She could hear David Hale's breathing beside her, and for a fraction of a moment, she loved him.

Judge Moore began to read. "In the charge of murder in the first degree of Andrea Canello, the jury finds the defendant, Alfred Brinkley, 'not guilty' by reason of mental disease or defect."

A wave of nausea hit Yuki.

She sat back hard in her chair, barely hearing the judge's voice as each name was read, each charge a finding of "not guilty" by reason of insanity.

Yuki stood up as Claire and Lindsay came forward to be with her. They were standing around her as Brinkley was shackled, and they all saw how he looked at Yuki.

It was an odd look, part stare, part secret smile. Yuki didn't know what Brinkley intended by it, but she felt a prickling of hairs rising at the nape of her neck.

And then Brinkley spoke to her. "Good try, Ms. Castellano. Very good try. But don't you know? Someone's got to pay."

One of the guards gave Brinkley a shove, and after a last look at Yuki, he shuffled up the aisle between his keepers.

Sick or sane, Alfred Brinkley was going to be off the streets for a long time. Yuki knew that.