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  "Why not?"

  "Conflict of interest. The eyewitness is Dr. April Fairweather, a Reed, Briggs client."

  Kate's mouth dropped open. "You're kidding?"

  "Daniel had the same reaction. She was supposed to meet with Briggs at eight-fifteen at the cottage where he was killed. She says she saw Daniel run out and drive away."

  "You can't take Fairweather's word for anything, Amanda. She's-" Kate stopped suddenly. "Damn."

  "What?"

  "You're right. There is a conflict."

  "Do you know something about Dr. Fairweather that I should know?"

  Kate nodded. "But I can't talk about it. I learned it while working on her case. All I can tell you to do is dig deep."

  "For what?"

  "I'm sorry, Amanda. I'll have to talk to one of the partners before I can say anything. I suspect the partner is going to tell me that Fairweather will have to give her okay before I can talk to you, and I doubt she'll do it."

  "Daniel will understand why you can't get involved. He knows you're helping him with expenses and he's very grateful."

  "I wish there was something else I could do."

  "Well, there isn't, for now, but don't worry. Herb Cross will conduct the investigation, and you know how good he is. If you want to show your support, be in court at two for Daniel's arraignment."

  "I plan to be."

  The offices of Jaffe, Katz, Lehane and Brindisi, one of Oregon's premier law firms, took up the eighth floor of the Stockman Building in downtown Portland. Amanda's father, Frank Jaffe, and two law-school classmates had started their practice as soon as they passed the bar. Amanda had joined the firm six years ago after graduating with honors from New York University School of Law and serving a two-year clerkship at the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals. As a reward for solving the Cardoni serial murder case, the firm's members had voted to make her a partner. Six months ago she had moved from one of the small offices used by the associates to a larger office with a view of the West Hills. Amanda had decorated her new office with two abstracts she'd purchased at a gallery near her condominium in the Pearl District and several photographs of Broadway that had been taken shortly after the First World War around the time that the Stockman Building had been constructed.

  As soon as she returned from her meeting with Daniel, Amanda started making notes about her new client. She liked Daniel and she hoped that he was innocent, but she had been practicing criminal law long enough to know that you never took your client's word for anything, no matter how sincere they seemed. Daniel had a strong motive to murder his ex-boss, he had admitted being at the scene of the crime, and he had destroyed the answering-machine tape-the evidence that Daniel claimed would have proved his relationship with Arthur Briggs had changed.

  Amanda leaned back and tapped her pen against her palm. What did Kate know that would help her cast doubt on the eyewitness identification made by April Fairweather? What difference would impeachment evidence make, anyway? Daniel was at the cottage. He'd told her so. That meant that Daniel could not testify, because he would have to admit that Fairweather had seen him. She sighed. This was not going to be easy. She was going to have to work very hard and be very lucky if she was going to keep Daniel Ames off of death row.

  Chapter Twenty-Three.

  At Daniel's arraignment, Amanda Jaffe asked for a bail hearing and the judge set it for Friday. Daniel made a plan for getting through the week. It involved staying in his cell as much as possible and being as inconspicuous as possible when he was in the presence of other prisoners.

  Every morning at ten o'clock the guards unlocked the bottom tier of cells and let the prisoners watch television, talk, and walk around in the glassed-in recreation area. This was the most frightening time for Daniel. He had found a corner of the room from which the television was not visible and he had stayed there until it was time to return to his cell. On Thursday morning Daniel made for his corner only to find a wiry white man with a shaved head and swastika tattoo on his muscled biceps headed the same way. Daniel tried to avoid him, but he did not move fast enough and they collided. Daniel's stomach clenched.

  "Sorry," he mumbled.

  The man glared. When Daniel did not look away fast enough, he moved close to him.

  "What are you lookin' at, pussy?"

  "Nothing," Daniel answered, praying that he could avoid a fight.

  "You sayin' I'm nothing?"

  Daniel had been a civilized human being for many years, but the next second he was back on the street, he was fifteen, and he was listening to George, an ex-con who had been kind to him until Daniel rebuffed his sexual advances with a broken bottle. George had tried to seduce Daniel with tales of life in the Joint that had been filled with survival tips. The tips had come in handy on the other occasions he'd spent time in jail and Daniel flashed on them now.

  "I . . . I said I'm sorry," Daniel apologized again in a voice intentionally meek and subservient. The prisoner took a step forward.

  "That ain't good enough," he was saying when Daniel stomped hard on his foot. When the inmate bent forward reflexively Daniel snapped a hard elbow into his face. Blood sprayed from the man's nose. Before he could get his bearings Daniel struck him again, this time in the throat. The inmate went down hard and his head made a hollow sound as it bounced off the concrete floor.

  Daniel turned to see if anyone else was going to come for him. Most of the inmates gave the fallen man and his assailant a wide berth, but two prisoners with shaved heads started across the room. One man was slightly shorter than Daniel and had a weight lifter's build. His biceps expanded and contracted as he flexed his fists. The other man was tall and flabby, but he had pit bull eyes and huge hands.

  Daniel knew there was no way he could take out two men, but he was poised to go at the weight lifter when the skinheads stopped abruptly. That's when Daniel noticed the four Hispanics who stood beside him. One was his cellmate.

  "Whas up, bro?" Pedro asked the weight lifter.

  "Get out of the way, monkey," he answered.

  Pedro smiled, but he did not move. The weight lifter started forward.

  "Break it up," a guard shouted from the door to the rec room. Three guards armed with truncheons backed him up.

  "We ain't through with you, fucker," the fat skinhead said to Daniel, spitting on the floor between them. Then he touched the weight lifter on the arm and the two men backed into the crowd.

  One of the guards knelt to check the unconscious man, who was covered with blood from his broken nose.

  "Who did this?" he demanded. No one answered.

  "All right, that's it. No more rec time. Get back in your cells."

  The room cleared quickly.

  "Thanks, man," Daniel said when he and Pedro were locked up. "I'd have been dead if you hadn't stepped in."

  Pedro shrugged. "I don' like those skinhead motherfuckers."

  "Well, it's appreciated."

  Pedro smiled. "I didn' figure you for no fighter, but you clocked that Nazi good."

  "Lucky punch."

  Pedro's smile widened. "Sucker punch."

  They both laughed. Then Pedro's smile fell away abruptly and he wagged a warning finger at Daniel.

  "You watch your back. Those are bad people. They gonna hurt you if they get the chance."

  Daniel nodded. Then he climbed onto his upper bunk. As soon as he was certain that Pedro could not see him, he let go of his self-control and started to shake.

  Chapter Twenty-Four.

  Herb Cross, a slender African-American in his late thirties, led Amanda Jaffe up a narrow stairway to the second-floor office of Dr. April Fairweather. Fairweather worked over a hardware store in a low-rent building on Stark. The stairwell was dingy and poorly lit, as was the hall in front of the doctor's office.

  Herb had briefed Amanda on what little he had discovered about the therapist during the ride from their law office. Fairweather did not have a criminal record. She had a single credit card and never let the charg
es get too high. Fairweather advertised herself as a consulting therapist and claimed to have a doctorate, but she was not licensed by any state agency. Then again she didn't have to be to practice her kind of New Age therapy. Fairweather lived in a cheap garden apartment in Beaverton, and Herb had talked to a few of her neighbors, but all he'd learned was that she never said more than an occasional hello.

  The investigator opened a wooden door with a frosted-glass window. On the other side was a small reception room. As Amanda closed the door, a short, mousy woman in a frayed gray business suit walked out of the interior office. Amanda noticed that Dr. Fairweather had not done much with her light brown hair. She didn't see any jewelry, either. The lawyer concluded that the psychologist was not someone who gave a lot of thought to her looks.

  "Can I help you?" Fairweather asked as she eyed the investigator warily. She seemed frightened, so Amanda stepped forward and smiled.

  "I'm Amanda Jaffe, the attorney representing Daniel Ames. This is my associate, Herb Cross. If you have a few minutes we'd like to talk to you."

  Fairweather grew rigid. "No, I can't do that."

  "I'm going to have a chance to talk to you in court, Dr. Fairweather," Amanda pressed. "I might be able to save some time if we clear up a few things here."

  "I'm not supposed to talk to you," Fairweather answered. Her shoulders hunched and her gaze drifted toward the floor.

  "Did the district attorney tell you that? Because you have the right to talk to anyone you want to. Talking to me would be the right thing to do."

  "I don't want to do that and I'd like you to go."

  "Okay." Amanda held out her card and Fairweather took it reluctantly. "If you change your mind please call me."

  "That is one uptight lady," Herb Cross said as soon as the door closed behind them.

  "Yes, she is," Amanda mused, "and I'd love to know why."

  On the way back to the office, Amanda and Cross brainstormed about ways to get through Fairweather's armor. When they walked into the firm's waiting room, the receptionist handed Amanda a small box wrapped in brown paper.FOR AMES BAIL HEARING was written on the paper in block letters with a Magic Marker. There was no return address.

  "This isn't how the DA's office sends discovery," Amanda said as she stripped away the wrapping paper. "Who brought it over?"

  "A messenger," the receptionist answered.

  "Did he say who sent it?"

  "No."

  The box was cardboard without any markings. Amanda lifted the lid. There was no note inside, but there was a videocassette. Moments later Herb Cross and Amanda Jaffe were sitting in the conference room in front of a VCR. A title informed the lawyer and the private investigator that they were going to see a speech that Dr. April Fairweather had given at a conference devoted to abuse survivors three years before. On the screen, a distinguished gentleman stepped behind a podium and introduced Dr. Fairweather in glowing terms. After the introduction Dr. Fairweather took the man's place at the podium and began to speak. A few minutes into the tape, the investigator and the attorney turned to each other.

  "Is this for real?" Cross asked.

  "I certainly hope so," Amanda answered.

  Chapter Twenty-five.

  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 wh
ich 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.