The Associate Read online

  "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."
r />   "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?"<
br />
  "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."