Daniel barely slept Thursday evening worrying about what would happen the next day in the rec room. Fortunately, his bail hearing was set for Friday and early the next morning he was placed in chains and transported two blocks to the Multnomah County Courthouse, where he was lodged in a large open cell in the courthouse jail with other prisoners awaiting court appearances. At 9:45, two sheriff’s deputies gave Daniel a suit that Amanda’s investigator had brought to the jail for the hearing. As soon as he was dressed the deputies escorted him from the seventh-floor holding area to the courtroom where his case was to be heard. The Multnomah County Courthouse is a blunt, functional building constructed of gray concrete whose exterior makes no pretensions to art. The interiors are another matter. The Honorable Gerald Opton’s fifth-floor courtroom had grand, high ceilings, ornate molding, marble Corinthian columns, and a polished wood dais. The spectator section consisted of several rows of hard wooden benches set back behind a low wooden fence that separated the public from those having business before the court. The benches were packed because of the publicity Daniel’s case had received, but Daniel spotted Kate Ross easily. She smiled at him. Daniel was embarrassed to have her see him in chains and all he could manage was a restrained nod. Several partners from Reed, Briggs occupied the front row of the courtroom.
Daniel wondered if the DA was going to use them as witnesses. Seated behind the partners with two other associates was Joe Molinari. He gave Daniel a thumbs-up, which made Daniel smile. The other associates nodded at him and he was relieved to see that some of his friends from the firm were still standing by him. Susan Webster was conspicuously absent. Daniel scanned the crowd for other familiar faces and was surprised to see a young black man in a charcoal-gray business suit, armed with a pen and a legal pad, whom he recognized as one of the associates Aaron Flynn had brought to Kurt Schroeder’s deposition.
When his guards brought Daniel into the courtroom Amanda Jaffe was talking to Deputy District Attorney Mike Greene, a large man who looked like a football or basketball player. Looks were deceiving.
Greene was a gentle soul who played competitive chess and the saxophone instead of sports. The defense attorney and the DA had faced each other in court several times and they had started dating after the violent resolution of the Cardoni case. Amanda heard one of the deputies unlock Daniel’s handcuffs and hurried to her client. With his suit on, Daniel looked like any other young attorney, but three days in jail had taken their toll. As soon as his manacles were removed, Amanda led him to the defense table, where they conferred in whispers.
“Are you okay?” she asked. Daniel shook his head. “You’ve got to get me out of jail. I’ve been in a fight and the guy has friends. They’re going to come after me as soon as I’m back at the Justice Center. What are my chances of making bail?” Amanda was about to answer when the bailiff rapped his gavel. She touched Daniel on the forearm. “You’re going to be okay.” The Honorable Gerald Opton entered the courtroom and everyone stood. Jerry Opton was one of three judges in the homicide rotation. These judges heard murder cases exclusively for one or two years so they could develop an expertise in this area of law.
Assignment to the homicide rotation was usually reserved for experienced judges. Opton had only been on the bench for five years, but he had been a homicide specialist in the Multnomah County District Attorney’s Office for ten years. He was a stocky, balding man whose features bore a faint resemblance to the actor Jack Nicholson. Despite being a career prosecutor before his elevation to the bench, Opton was a favorite of defense attorneys and prosecutors alike. He was scrupulously fair, well versed in the law, and ran his court with a firm hand that was softened by a wry sense of humor. “Are we ready to go?” the judge asked the attorneys. “Ready for Mr. Ames,” Amanda said.
“Ready for the state,” Greene intoned. “Bailiff, please call the case.” The bailiff read the name and number of Daniel’s case into the record. For purposes of the bail hearing, the parties had entered into a stipulation that Arthur Briggs had been shot with a. 45-caliber bullet and a person other than Briggs had intentionally caused the death. This helped speed up the hearing because the prosecutor did not have to call the medical examiner as a witness. The parties had further stipulated that Daniel worked at Reed, Briggs until the week before the murder when Briggs had fired him. After reading the stipulation into the record, Mike Greene called his first witness. In response to Greene’s questions, Zeke Forbus told the judge that he had been summoned to the crime scene at Starlight Road and had interviewed Dr. April Fairweather. Dr. Fairweather had given him the name and description of a man she had seen leaving the crime scene and the car in which he had driven away. Forbus testified that he ran a check on the car owned by the man Dr. Fairweather named and he discovered that the car was the make and color that Dr. Fairweather had described.
Finally, Forbus described Daniel’s arrest. “Good morning, Detective Forbus,” Amanda said when the witness was turned over to her for cross-examination. Forbus did not answer. He distrusted defense attorneys and he especially disliked women lawyers. “Were you present during the arrest of Mr. Ames and the search of his apartment?” “Yes, ma’am.” “Did Mr. Ames make any incriminating statements to you or any other police officer or detective following his arrest?” “He asked for an attorney, right away.” “Can I take it that means that Mr. Ames did not make any statement that incriminated himself in the murder of Mr.
Briggs?” “That is correct.” “Have Mr. Ames’s fingerprints been found at the crime scene?” “Not to my knowledge.” “When Mr. Briggs was found he was lying in a pool of blood, was he not?” “Yes.” “Did you find any blood on Mr. Ames or his clothing?” “Mr. Ames washed his clothes. We found them in a washing machine in the basement.” “Your Honor, would you please instruct Detective Forbus to answer my questions?” Judge Opton smiled. “Come on, Detective. You’re not going to score any points this way. Do everyone a favor. Listen to the question and answer it, okay?” “Sorry, Judge,” Forbus answered. “No blood was found on Mr. Ames or his clothing.” “Did you find the murder weapon on Mr.
Ames or in his apartment?” “No.” “You searched his car?” “Yes.” “Find any blood or guns?” “No.” “Would it be fair to say that the only evidence you have connecting Daniel Ames with the scene of the crime is the statement of Dr. Fairweather?” “Yes.” “Thank you. No further questions.” “Mr. Greene?” Judge Opton said. “We call Dr. April Fairweather to the stand.” Daniel turned sideways and watched Fairweather walk down the aisle toward the witness box. Whenever he saw her he got an impression of a person in hiding. Fairweather kept her eyes front and avoided looking at Daniel. When she took the oath she continued to look away from him. “Dr. Fairweather,” Mike Greene began as soon as the witness was sworn, “what is your profession?”
Fairweather sat erect with her hands folded in her lap and her eyes glued on the deputy district attorney. Her response was so soft that Daniel strained to hear her. The judge asked her to raise her voice and repeat her answer. “I am a counselor.” “Is that what your doctorate is in?” “Yes, and my master’s degree.” “Is it as a result of your practice that you came to be a client of Arthur Briggs?” “Yes, sir. A patient sued me. My insurance company employed Mr. Briggs to represent them in cases of this sort.” “Did you ever meet with Mr.
Briggs at his office to discuss your case?” “We met on several occasions.” “While at the office, did you ever meet the defendant, Daniel Ames?” “Yes. Mr. Briggs introduced me to him. He told me his name and we shook hands.” Daniel remembered that Dr. Fairweather had also refused to meet his eye when Arthur Briggs had introduced them.
When he’d shaken her hand it had been damp and cold, and she’d jerked it away as if she was afraid Daniel would trap it. “Did you see Mr.
Ames a second time at the Reed, Briggs offices?” “Yes.” “When was that?” “The Friday before Mr. Briggs was killed.” “Please describe that occasion for the judge.” “I was sitting in the waiting area in front of Mr. Briggs’s office when the door opened. Mr. Ames stood in the doorway with his back to me speaking to Mr. Briggs.” “Can you remember anything he said?” “No, but I could tell that he was angry.”
“How do you know that he was angry with Mr. Briggs?” “I could hear Mr.
Briggs shouting at him, then Mr. Ames slammed the door. When he turned around he looked furious. Then he saw me and Mr. Briggs’s secretary and he rushed away.” “Did you have a third occasion to encounter Mr.
Ames?” “Yes, sir.” “When was that?” “The night of the murder.” “Where were you?” “At a cottage on Starlight Road.” “What time was it?” “A little after eight.” “How do you know that?” “Mr. Briggs’s secretary called me earlier in the day and told me that there had been a development in my case and Mr. Briggs needed to meet with me at the Starlight Road address at eight-fifteen that evening. I’m always punctual and I checked the clock on my dashboard when I turned into Starlight Road.” “What did you see as you approached the cottage?” “I saw Mr. Ames. He was running and he looked upset. When he saw my car, he threw his arm in front of his face. Then he dashed to his own car and drove away at a high rate of speed.” “How can you be sure that it was Mr. Ames you saw at the cottage?” “As I said, I’d met him before and he ran right into my headlight beams. It was like watching someone on a stage standing in a spotlight.” “And there is no doubt in your mind that it was Daniel Ames, the defendant, whom you saw running from the cottage on Starlight Road?” “None.” “For the record, do you see Mr. Ames in court today?” “Yes.” “Please point him out for the judge.”
Fairweather shifted in her seat and pointed her finger at Daniel, but she still would not look him in the eye. “After Mr. Ames drove away, what did you do?” Fairweather paused before answering the prosecutor’s question in the same soft monotone in which she had spoken during all of Greene’s direct examination. “I parked my car and entered the house. The lights were off and it took a moment for my eyes to adjust.
Then I saw Mr. Briggs lying on the floor. I walked over to him and I knew at once that he was dead.” “How did you know that?” “He was lying in a pool of blood. I knelt down and felt for a pulse, but there was none.” “What did you do next?” “I left the house and used my cell phone to call 911.” “Thank you, Dr. Fairweather. Your witness, Ms.
Jaffe.” “What is your date of birth, Dr. Fairweather?” Amanda asked in a friendly tone. “July twenty-ninth, 1957,” Fairweather answered, averting her eyes. “And where were you born?” “Crawford, Idaho.” “What is your father’s name?” Daniel thought he saw Fairweather flinch.
“Herman Garlock,” she answered, her voice dropping again. “And your mother?” “Linda Garlock.” “If your parents are both named Garlock, why are you named Fairweather?” “I changed my name legally five years ago.” “What was your given name?” “Florence Garlock.” “When is the last time you spoke to either of your parents?” “I don’t know the exact date. It would have been around 1978.” “You haven’t had any contact with them for more than twenty years?” “That’s correct.” “Can you tell me why?” “I did not wish to contact them.” “Wouldn’t you agree it’s rather unusual for a daughter to have no contact with her parents for twenty years?” “Objection, relevance,” Mike Greene said.
“Is the witness’s relationship to her parents relevant to this case, Ms. Jaffe?” Judge Opton asked. “It is, Your Honor, but I’ll withdraw the question for now.” Amanda turned her attention back to the witness. “Do you have any siblings?” “I have a younger sister, Dorothy.” “Has your sister maintained a relationship with your parents?” “Yes.” Amanda made a few notes, then switched to another subject. “I’d like to talk to you about your educational background.
What school or schools awarded you your master’s and Ph. D.?”
“Templeton University.” “Where did you receive your undergraduate degree?” “I don’t have one.” Amanda looked surprised. “I’m a little confused,” she said. “Before you can get a master’s and a doctorate, don’t you have to graduate from college?” “That was not a requirement at Templeton.” “Is Templeton University a regular school with a campus and a football team?” “Templeton is a correspondence university. I attended by mail.” “How long did it take you to get a master’s degree and a Ph. D. by mail?” “About three years.” “Each?” “Total.” Amanda had Judge Opton’s attention and Daniel noticed that Mike Greene was starting to look nervous. “What major are your degrees in?”
“Theocentric counseling.” “I don’t believe I’ve heard of that. Could you explain theocentric counseling to Judge Opton?” “Theocentric is God-centered. There’s no specific religious connection,” Fairweather said without turning to the judge. Daniel had the impression that she was not speaking to anyone in particular, as if she was distancing herself from what was happening in the courtroom. “Dr. Fairweather, is Templeton an accredited university like Oregon State?” “I don’t believe so.” “And you’re not licensed by any state agency, are you?”
“No.” “Let’s go back to your parents. Was your father abusive to you when you were a child?” “Objection. This is totally irrelevant.”
Amanda stood. “To the contrary, Your Honor. If you will give me a little leeway here, you will see that this line of questioning goes directly to the issue of this witness’s credibility and competence.”
Judge Opton took a moment to decide what to do. He did not look happy.
“I’m going to let you continue based solely on your assertion that you can prove relevance. If I’m not convinced pretty quickly, I’ll uphold Mr. Greene’s objection.” “Thank you, Your Honor. Dr. Fairweather, was your father abusive?” “Yes.” “In what way?” “Sexually, physically, and emotionally.” “Since what age?” “I don’t know exactly. My earliest memory would be somewhere around four or five.” “When you say ‘physical abuse’ what do you mean?” “Hitting, choking, being locked in closets,” she answered in a flat, emotionless tone that reminded Daniel of the way he might describe something he saw on the evening news. “And ‘sexual abuse’?” “Touching, intercourse.” “He had intercourse with you at four?” “Yes.” “Anything else?” “Sodomy, oral sex. He… he used objects. Bottles, other things.” “How long did this go on?” “Until I left the family.” “How old were you then?”
“Twenty-one.” “So this went on for 17 years?” “Yes.” “Every year?”
“Every week.” “Did you report this physical and sexual abuse to anyone?” “I… I may have tried to report it to my teachers. I can’t remember.” “Would it surprise you to learn that my investigator has spoken to several of your teachers and they have no memory of your making any such complaint?” “Like I said, I can’t remember if I did or not.” “Did your mother know what was going on?” “She participated.”
“How?” “She performed oral sex on me, inserted objects in my vagina, my rectal area.” “What kind of objects?” “A broom handle, a gun.” “A gun?” “Yes.” “What kind of gun?” “I don’t know.” “Was it a rifle or a pistol?” “I can’t remember.” “Was your sister also molested?” “I think so.” “Did she ever complain about this abuse?” “She has no memory of it.” “But you think she was abused sexually?” “We shared a bedroom from six to seventeen or eighteen and I believe my father came into the bedroom and had sex with my sister.” “How often?” “Two to three times a week.” “And she doesn’t remember this?” “She denies it.” “Ms.
Jaffe,” Judge Opton interrupted. He was obviously upset. “Where are you going with this?” “A few more questions and it will all be clear, Your Honor. I promise.” “It better be, because I am this close to ending this examination.” Amanda turned her full attention to the witness and went for the kill. “Other than your parents, were you ever sexually abused by anyone else?” “Yes.” “How many people molested you?” “I’m not exactly certain.” “Can you give the judge a ballpark figure?” “Maybe fifteen. Maybe as many as thirty-five.” Judge Opton frowned. “Can you identify any of the other people who sexually molested you, these fifteen to thirty-five people?” “No.” “Were they men or women?” “It’s hard to say.” “Why is that?” “They were wearing robes with hoods. They wore masks.” The judge leaned forward. “Can you describe these costumes?” “They were black-hooded robes, they reached the floor. When I was little it seemed to me that the people could fly, that they floated instead of walking. Now I realize that it just seemed that way because the robes covered their feet.” “Can you remember anything else about the costumes?” “They had circular medallions.” “Did the medallions symbolize something?” “They symbolized the fact that these people worshiped Satan.” “So you were molested by Satan worshipers?” “Yes.” Amanda now had the judge’s full attention. Mike Greene struggled to appear nonchalant, as if mass molestations by devil worshipers were a commonplace occurrence in his life. “Where did these attacks take place?” “Sometimes in a barn. I also remember the basement of a church.” “Can you give the judge some idea of what happened at these meetings? For instance, why don’t you tell him the worst experience you can remember.” “One time I was taken to the barn and tied down to a table and an abortion was performed on me…” “An abortion? You were pregnant?” “Yes.” “How old were you?”
“Thirteen.” “And they aborted you?” “Yes. And then I was forced to eat the fetus of my… my child.” Judge Opton struggled to maintain his judicial composure. “How often were you taken to these satanic group meetings?” “About once a month.” “And how old were you the last time you went?” “I believe I was eighteen or nineteen.” “Was your sister also taken to these ceremonies?” “Yes, but she denies it. She says she has no memory of them.” “Were other people’s children at these meetings?” “I remember two or three.” “Was anything done to these other children?” “They were put in boxes with insects,” Dr.
Fairweather answered in the same monotone she’d used to answer all of Amanda’s questions. “Snakes were made to crawl on them, electric shock was used, they were made to eat parts of animals, photographs were made of them having sex with adults.” “Were there animal sacrifices at these meetings?” “Yes. I remember cats, dogs. Once there was a sheep.”
“What did they do?” “They cut the belly of the animal open. Sometimes they hung it from the ceiling, cut open the belly, the organs would fall on the people, or the children were forced to eat it.” “Were there human sacrifices?” “Yes.” “Where were they?” “In a barn.” “Do you know where the barn was?” “It was in the country, way out. There were high trees all around and the only light was in the barn from lanterns. Inside, there were blackout curtains to keep out sunlight or to prevent people from seeing in.” “What happened in the barn on the first occasion when you saw a human sacrifice?” “This man was tied up from the rafters with his hands above his head.” “Was he clothed?”
“No, he was naked.” “Was he screaming or fighting?” “Yes.” “What happened to this man?” “The people took knives and flayed his skin off.” “Was he alive when this happened?” “Yes.” “How many people were involved?” “I can’t remember. More than fifteen.” “And they all were involved in skinning this man alive?” “Some were chanting and playing drums and calling on demons.” “Do you know why the victims were selected for the ritual?” “They were selected because they were Christians.” “What happened to the body after it was taken down?”
“There was a ceremony in which the blood was drunk from a chalice, people had sex, that kind of behavior.” “What did the blood represent?” “Whoever drank the blood of a Christian got that person’s power.” “What were these satanic cult members hoping to achieve by following Satan?” “They wanted to live with Satan for eternity and have everything they wanted, and when Satan overcame the world, you would be a chosen one.” “How were the victims found?” “The way I understand it, there were people in the cult who were programmed to capture Christians for these ceremonies.” “Were they captured at random off of the street?” “That’s how I understood it.” “Flaying someone alive is murder, isn’t it, Dr. Fairweather?” “Yes.” “And these people probably had families who would worry about them?” “I suppose.”
“Did you ever tell the police about these horrible things that happened to you and these other people?” “No, I couldn’t.” “Why is that?” “I was terrified and scared for my life.” “Well, you left the cult at twenty-one and you’re in your forties now. So you’ve been away from your parents and these people for twenty years. Didn’t it ever occur to you to tell anyone about this after you broke away?” “I wasn’t able to tell anyone.” “Why is that?” “I was led to believe from the time I was very young that there were members of the cult who could read my mind and that I was constantly being watched and…”
“Yes?” “I believe there were some medical mind-control experiments performed on me by doctors who were members of the cult.” “What was the purpose of these experiments?” “To make me behave and do what they wanted.” “What were these experiments?” “I remember having electrical shock. I remember people giving me certain words or codes or phrases and then telling me what I needed to do when I heard them.” “Where did this happen?” “In a place that was like an operating room. There were bright lights over my head. I was naked and strapped down. They attached electrodes to my head. That’s all I remember.” “How did these experiments work? What did they do to you?” “There was a phrase said and they would say, ‘When you hear this phrase you will do thus and such. Do you understand?’ And no matter what I said, they would say, ‘We don’t believe you,’ and I would get more shocks. And at some point they would stop. I guess when they thought I was under control.” “Were you ever given these codes or phrases?” “Yes.” “How?” “On the phone or someone in the street would give me a sign. They might say the phrase and I would have to do what I was told.” “What types of things were you told?” “If I saw red I was supposed to try and kill myself, but not succeed.” “Fake a suicide?” “Yes.” “Were you ever ordered to do this?” “Yes, several times.” “How did you attempt suicide?” “I cut my wrists.” “How many times?” “I can’t say for sure.” “Were you ever hospitalized for this?” “Twice. I was sent for psychiatric treatment.”
Amanda Jaffe was about to ask another question when Mike Greene stood and buttoned his suit jacket. “Your Honor, I think this might be a good time for a recess.” “I agree, Mr. Greene. We’ll recess for fifteen minutes. Dr. Fairweather, you can step down, but you’ll have to be back in court when we reconvene. I’ll see counsel in chambers.”
The judge left the courtroom through a door behind the dais. Daniel turned to Amanda and looked at her wide-eyed. “She’s nuts,” he said.
“Yes, she is,” Amanda answered with a comforting smile. “And we are sitting in the catbird seat. You hang tight while I talk to the judge.
Hopefully, I’ll have good news when I come out.” “How did you know about that Satan stuff?” “I’ll tell you later.” Amanda and Mike Greene left the courtroom and Joe Molinari walked up to the bar of the court.
One of the guards told Joe they could talk across the low fence but could not touch or exchange anything. “Thanks for coming,” Daniel said. “Hey, dude, this is the best show in town, and your lawyer kicks ass. You and me are going to be at happy hour this afternoon.” Daniel knew better than to get his hopes up, so he just smiled.
“What is going on here?” Judge Opton asked Mike Greene as soon as the judge and the two attorneys were seated in his chambers. “Believe me, I had no idea she was going to say that stuff.” Opton shook his head. “Just when you thought you’ve seen it all. Well, Mike, what are we going to do?” Greene exhaled. “Fairweather and Forbus are my only witnesses. You’ve heard everything I’ve got.” “Are you going to argue that you’ve proved by clear and convincing evidence that Mr. Ames murdered Arthur Briggs? Because you’ve got to do that before I’ll deny bail.” “She still saw what she saw, Judge,” Greene answered halfheartedly. “Your witness sees a lot of things. What’s your position, Amanda?” “The only evidence connecting Daniel to the murder is the testimony of Dr. Fairweather and I don’t believe she’s a credible witness.” “You don’t have to be diplomatic. We’re not on the record. The woman is a total fruitcake. Fucking electrodes. Jesus, Mike, where did you dig her up?” Greene didn’t answer. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do when we go back outside,” Opton said. “You’ll end your cross, Amanda, and you’ll rest, Mike. You can argue against bail, but I’m going to grant it, understood?” Greene nodded. Opton turned to Amanda. “What can your client afford?” “Daniel’s on his own and he’s almost broke, Judge. As you heard, Reed, Briggs just fired him. His mother doesn’t have a dime and he doesn’t know where his father is. He worked his way through college and law school, so he’s up to his nose in debt and he doesn’t have much in savings. I’m taking the case pro bono.” Opton’s eyebrows raised. Amanda ignored his surprise and continued. “I think you should release him on his own recognizance.
Daniel swears he’s innocent and there isn’t any credible evidence that links him to the murder. Even if you believed Dr. Fairweather, the best you have is Daniel running from the scene, but no evidence that he had a murder weapon or shot Briggs.” “Mike?” Greene looked defeated. “I’ll go on the record against recog, but I can’t make a great argument against it, right now.” “Okay. I’ll let you protect your office. You can make an impassioned plea. Just don’t go on too long.” Opton stood up. “Let’s get this over with.” Mike Greene looked grim when he emerged from the judge’s chambers and Amanda Jaffe’s face betrayed no emotion. As soon as Amanda sat down she turned to Daniel.
“Judge Opton decided that Fairweather is nuts. He can’t take her word for the ID, so Mike has no evidence connecting you to the scene of the crime. You’ll be out of jail by noon.” “It’s over? I’m free?” “Don’t get too excited. You’re still charged with murder, but the judge is going to release you on your own word. You’re going to be recogged, so you won’t have to post bail.” “Thank you,” Daniel said. “You’re amazing.” “I am good,” Amanda replied, “but we wouldn’t have won without your guardian angel.”
“Did you have any idea this was going to happen?” Mike Greene asked Zeke Forbus. “Because I love to have a little advance notice whenever I’m going to make a total fool out of myself in court. It gives me time to buy a disguise so I can make a quick escape.” Greene rarely got upset and Forbus was rarely embarrassed, but today had not been a normal day. “Believe me, Mike, I was as surprised as you are.
Fairweather seemed a little uptight when I talked to her, but I had no idea she was crazy.” Greene turned his chair toward the window in his office so he would not have to look at the homicide detective. A chessboard on his credenza displayed a position in the Queen’s Gambit Declined that the prosecutor was studying. He stared at it for a moment in hopes of distancing himself from his real-life problems, but it was no use. He swung his chair back so he was face-to-face with Forbus. “Where do we go from here, Zeke?” “I still think he did it, so I’m going to try and find a way to prove Ames was really at the cottage.” “Any idea how you’re going to do that?” Forbus shook his head. “Well think, damn it. We’ve got to move. The preliminary hearing is set for next week. Normally, I’d bypass it by getting a secret indictment out of the grand jury, but I’ve got nothing to show them.
I’m going to have to dismiss the charges against Ames if we don’t come up with something fast.”