"How long did this condition last?"
Estevez thought a moment before answering. "I can't say with certainty, but after the shooting occurred, Dennis suffered a blackout. I believe this was the brain shutting down, protecting itself from the overload caused by too much stress, too much guilt. With Detective Sentz's death, the target of all that negative energy had been eliminated."
"Are you saying this is the result of Dennis's actions against Detective Sentz?"
"No, and perhaps I should make that more clear. I have no idea what happened in that hotel room. Neither does Dennis. From a psychological point of view, it makes no difference who did what. What matters is that Detective Sentz did in fact die, and when that occurred, the subject of Dennis's abnormal fixation was gone. With nothing to fixate on, the obsession began to lose its hold. The blackout signals a sort of mental changing of the guard, if you will. The brain shut down so it could begin healing itself."
"And did it?"
"Yes. He's been getting better ever since the incident, and now I believe he has returned to the same mental state he was in before his wife disappeared. He's still dealing with a great deal of stress, obviously, as a result of the charges and this trial. But he's much better than he was before."
"Does he present a danger to others at this time?"
"Objection," Guillerman said, undoubtedly grateful to finally have an opportunity to break up the flow. "Not relevant."
Technically, he was correct. The defendant's current mental state didn't matter; what mattered was his mental state at the time he allegedly pulled the trigger. But Ben wanted the jury to hear it, just the same.
"I'll allow this," the judge ruled.
"No. He is not a danger to anyone. The extreme circumstances that produced this anomalous situation will not and cannot recur."
"Thank you," Ben said, returning to his seat. "I'll pass the witness." And pray to God for deliverance from the barrage he knew was soon to follow.
28
Guillerman strode up to the witness box without missing a beat. He was coming on strong, and clearly he wanted everyone to know it. He couldn't afford to let this witness step down without putting a few dents in his highly educated armor.
"Just so the jury knows where everyone stands, Doctor, are you being paid for your testimony today?"
"No. I'm being paid for my time."
"So you are being compensated for being in the courtroom today."
"Yes. Just as you are, counsel."
Guillerman smiled. "I'll bet you're getting more. What's your hourly rate?"
"I get two hundred dollars an hour normally, but I charge three hundred for court time. Obviously, there are more problems when I have to come to court."
"Gosh, I'd hate to think of you being inconvenienced. What are the additional problems?"
"Having to drive downtown, find a parking place. And put up with cross-examination, of course."
Even though his delivery was totally flat and dry, Estevez was managing to get in a few zingers. Ben had no idea how that would play with the jury, but he was enjoying it.
"Does that three hundred dollars an hour include time spent in preparation for appearing in the courtroom?"
"Yes."
"How much of that time have you logged?"
"About twenty hours."
Guillerman whistled. "This little murder trial is turning into a real cash cow for you, isn't it?"
Estevez's reaction was cold. "I wouldn't put it that way."
"During this preparation, did you meet with the defendant?"
"Of course."
"And you met with his attorney?"
"I talked with Mr. Kincaid and his partner, Ms. McCall."
"And they told you what they wanted you to say?"
"Don't be offensive. I told them what conclusions I had reached regarding the incident. They didn't tell me anything."
"And you pocketed about ten thousand dollars for your trouble."
"Something like that."
"I would imagine you could get most people to say just about anything for ten thousand dollars."
"Objection," Ben said. He kept it quiet. The objection had to be made, but he didn't want to start a fuss. Expert witnesses got paid and the jury could do with that what they would.
"That's all right," Guillerman said. "I think I've made my point."
Several times over, Ben thought.
"Dr. Estevez, you mentioned that at some point prior to the murder you prescribed medication for Dennis."
"Yes."
"You described it as a mild anti-anxiety drug."
"Yes."
"It sounded as if his anxiety levels were rather high, at least at the time."
"Yes."
"Why didn't you prescribe something stronger?"
"This was the first time he had taken anxiety medicine. You don't start anyone on the strongest medication. You start with something mild, then see if more is required."
"But you could have prescribed something stronger, right?"
"I have the ability, if that's what you mean."
"And you chose not to. Tell me, sir-is it correct to say that if you had prescribed something stronger before all this happened, we might not be here today?"
"Objection," Ben said. "Speculation."
"I'll allow it," the judge ruled. "He is an expert."
The witness answered, "I seriously doubt it. I mean, I suppose if I had given him something so strong that it knocked him out he couldn't have done anything. But short of that, I don't think it would've made any difference."
"And that was because his anger was so intense, he was going to kill that cop no matter what."
"Objection," Ben said. Again, he played it weary, rather than angry. Better to give the impression the objection was obligatory, even though he knew no juror could be foolish enough to be swayed by it, rather than to act as if it were of great importance.
"Sustained."
"Well, let me come at this a different way." Guillerman rested his hands on the witness box and stared directly at Dr. Estevez. "That stuff you prescribed later-Risperdal. It's actually used for a variety of reasons, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"And one of those reasons is that it's supposed to improve impulse control. Or to put it another way, to suppress strong feelings. Violent impulses."
"It is used sometimes for that purpose, but-"
"So what you actually prescribed was something to help the defendant control his violent and angry temper."
"I had no reason to believe-"
"Tell me, Doctor. Is having a bad temper the same as being insane?"
"Of course not."
"But the defendant does have a history of violent temper, right?"
"I would not agree with that statement."
"He was in fact having troubles with his wife, the one whose loss supposedly drove him over the brink, right?"
Estevez took a deep breath. "Every marriage has its problems. Even the good ones."
"And he had in fact been violent with his wife."
"There was one incident that-"
"Dr. Estevez, isn't it true that the defendant was angry, even before his wife disappeared, because he believed his wife was having an affair?"
"Objection!" Ben rose to his feet. This one would require more strength. Where had this come from? He glanced at Christina. She was just as puzzled as he. "This is not relevant."
Judge McPartland tilted his head to one side. "I suspect it may be. Overruled."
"Please answer the question," Guillerman directed the witness.
"Dennis did believe that at one time."
"And he was particularly angry," Guillerman said, "because he believed she was having an affair with a cop, right? Isn't that the truth?"
The courtroom buzzed with whispering and murmuring. Spectators moved back and forth as if a fire had been lit beneath them. Several reporters made for the rear doors.