Tell Me Your Dreams

Listening to her, David thought. She really believes what she's saying. I'm talking to a nut case. What am I going to tell Jesse Quiller? "Would you talk to a psychiatrist?"

"I don't - Yes. If you want me to."

"I'll arrange it." On his way back to San Francisco, David thought, I kept my end of the bargain. I talked to her. If she really thinks she's telling the truth, then she's crazy. I'll get her to Jesse, who will plead insanity, and that will be the end of it.

His heart went out to Steven Patterson.

At San Francisco Memorial Hospital, Dr. Patterson was receiving the condolences of his fellow doctors.

"It's a damn shame, Steven. You sure don't deserve anything like this...."

"It must be a terrible burden for you. If there's anything I can do..."

"I don't know what gets into kids these days. Ashley always seemed so normal...."

And behind each expression of condolence was the thought: Thank God it's not my kid.

When David returned to the law firm, he hurried in to see Joseph Kincaid.

Kincaid looked up and said, "Well, it's after six o'clock, David, but I waited for you. Did you see Dr. Patterson's daughter?"

"Yes, I did."

"And did you find an attorney to defend her?" David hesitated. "Not yet, Joseph. I'm arranging for a psychiatrist to see her. I'll be going back in the morning to talk to her again."

Joseph Kincaid looked at David, puzzled. "Oh? Frankly, I'm surprised that you're getting this involved. Naturally, we can't have this firm associated with anything as ugly as this trial is going to be."

"I'm not really involved, Joseph. It's just that I owe a great deal to her father. I made him a promise."

"There's nothing in writing, is there?"

"No."

"So it's only a moral obligation?" David studied him a moment, started to say something, then stopped. "Yes. It's only a moral obligation."

"Well, when you're through with Miss Patterson, I come back and we'll talk."

Not a word about the partnership.

When David got home that evening, the apartment was in darkness.

"Sandra?"

There was no answer. As David started to turn on the lights in the hallway, Sandra suddenly appeared from the kitchen, carrying a cake with lit candles.

"Surprise! We're having a celebration - " She saw the look on David's face and stopped. "Is something wrong, darling? Didn't you get it, David? Did they give it to someone else?"

"No, no," he said reassuringly. "Everything's fine." Sandra put down the cake and moved closer to him. "Something's wrong."

"It's just that there's been a... a delay."

"Wasn't your meeting with Joseph Kincaid today?"

"Yes. Sit down, honey. We have to talk." They sat down on the couch, and David said, "Something unexpected has come up. Steven Patterson came to see me this morning."

"He did? What about?"

"He wants me to defend his daughter."

Sandra looked at him in surprise. "But, David... you're not - "

"I know. I tried to tell him that. But I have practiced criminal law."

"But you're not doing that anymore. Did you tell him you're about to become a partner in your firm?"

"No. He was very insistent that I was the only one who could defend his daughter. It doesn't make any sense, of course I tried to suggest someone like Jesse Quiller, but he wouldn't even listen."

"Well, he'll have to get someone else."

"Of course. I promised to talk to his daughter, and I did."

Sandra sat back on the couch. "Does Mr. Kincaid know about this?"

"Yes. I told him. He wasn't thrilled." He mimicked Kincaid's voice. " 'Naturally, we can't have this firm associated with anything as ugly as this trial is going to be.'"

"What's Dr. Patterson's daughter like?"

"In medical terms, she's a fruitcake."

"I'm not a doctor," Sandra said. "What does that mean?"

"It means that she really believes she's innocent."

"Isn't that possible?"

"The sheriff in Cupertino showed me the file on her. Her DNA and fingerprints are all over the murder scenes."

"What are you going to do now?"

"I've called Royce Salem. He's a psychiatrist that Jesse Quiller's office uses. I'm going to have him examine. Ashley and turn the report over to her father. Dr. Patterson can bring in another psychiatrist if he likes, or turn the report over to whichever attorney is going to handle the case."

"I see." Sandra studied her husband's troubled face. "Did Mr. Kincaid say anything about the partnership, David?" He shook his head. "No."

Sandra said brightly, "He will. Tomorrow's another day."

Dr. Royce Salem was a tall, thin man with a Sigmund Freud beard.

Maybe that's just a coincidence, David told himself. Surely he's not trying to look like Freud.

"Jesse talks about you often," Dr. Salem said. "He's very fond of you."

"I'm fond of him. Dr. Salem."

"The Patterson case sounds very interesting. Obviously the work of a psychopath. You're planning an insanity plea?"

"Actually," David told him, "I'm not handling the case. Before I get an attorney for her. I'd like to get an evaluation of her mental state." David briefed Dr. Salem on the facts as he knew them. "She claims she's innocent, but the evidence shows she committed the crimes."

"Well, let's have a look at the lady's psyche, shall we?"

The hypnotherapy session was to take place in the Santa Clara County Jail, in an interrogation room. The furniture in the room consisted of a rectangular wooden table and four wooden chairs.

Ashley, looking pale and drawn, was led into the room by a matron.

"I'll wait outside," the matron said, and withdrew. David said, "Ashley, this is Dr. Salem. Ashley Patterson."

Dr. Salem said, "Hello, Ashley." She stood there, nervously looking from one to the other, without speaking. David had the feeling that she was ready to flee the room.

"Mr. Singer tells me that you have no objection to being hypnotized." Silence.

Dr. Salem went on. "Would you let me hypnotize you, Ashley?"

Ashley closed her eyes for a second and nodded. "Yes."

"Why don't we get started?"

"Well, I'll be running along," David said. "If - "

"Just a moment." Dr. Salem walked over to David. "I want you to stay."

David stood there, frustrated. He regretted now that he had gone this far. I'm not going to get in any deeper, David resolved. This will be the end of it.

"All right," David said reluctantly. He was eager to have it over with so he could get back to the office. The coming meeting with Kincaid loomed large in his mind.

Dr. Salem said to Ashley, "Why don't you sit in this chair?" Ashley sat down.

"Have you ever been hypnotized before, Ashley?" She hesitated an instant, then shook her head. "No."

"There's nothing to it. All you have to do is relax and listen to the sound of my voice. You have nothing to worry about. No one's going to hurt you. Feel your muscles relax. That's it. Just relax and feel your eyes getting heavy. You've been through a lot. Your body is tired, very tired. All you want to do is to go to sleep. Just close your eyes and relax. You're getting very sleepy... very sleepy...."

It took ten minutes to put her under. Dr. Salem walked over to Ashley. "Ashley, do you know where you are?"

"Yes. I'm in jail." Her voice sounded hollow, as though coming from a distance. "Do you know why you're in jail?"

"People think I did something bad."

"And is it true? Did you do something bad?"

"No."

"Ashley, did you ever kill anyone?"

"No."

David looked at Dr. Salem in surprise. Weren't people supposed to tell the truth under hypnosis?

"Do you have any idea who could have committed those murders?"

Suddenly, Ashley's face contorted and she began breathing hard, in short, raspy breaths. The two men watched in astonishment as her persona started changing. Her Ups tightened and her features seemed to shift. She sat up straight, and there was a sudden liveliness in her face. She opened her eyes, and they were sparkling. It was an amazing transformation. Unexpectedly, she began to sing, in a sultry voice with an English accent:

"Half a pound of tupenny rice,

Half a pound of treacle,

Mix it up and make it nice,

Pop! goes the weasel."

David listened in astonishment. Who does she think she's fooling? She's pretending to be someone else. "I want to ask you some more questions, Ashley." She tossed her head and said in an English accent, "I'm not Ashley."

Dr. Salem exchanged a look with David, then turned back to Ashley. "If you're not Ashley, who are you?"

"Toni. Toni Prescott."

And Ashley is doing this with a straight face, David thought How long is she going to go on with this stupid charade? She was wasting their time.

"Ashley," said Dr. Salem.

"Toni."

She's determined to keep it up, David thought "All right, Toni. What I'd like is - "

"Let me tell you what I'd like. I'd like to get out of this bloody place. Can you get us out of here?"

"That depends," Dr. Salem said. "What do you know about - ?"

" - those murders that little Goody Two-shoes is in here for?  I can tell you things that - "

Ashley's expression suddenly started to change again. As David and Dr. Salem watched, Ashley seemed to shrink in her chair, and her face began to soften and go through an incredible metamorphosis until she seemed to become another distinct personality.

She said in a soft voice with an Italian accent, "Toni... don't say any more, per piacere."

David was watching in bewilderment.

"Toni?" Dr. Salem edged closer.

The soft voice said, "I apologize for the interruption, Dr. Salem."

Dr. Salem asked, "Who are you?"