When did you get the call about Dr. Rossiter?
Around nine on Sunday night.
Where were you?
At my house.
Were you alone?
Yes.
Were you with anyone earlier in the day? Someone who can give you an alibi?
No. I was away for the weekend. I have a cabin on the coast. It's been hectic at the hospital, and I drove out Friday evening to get away from everyone and watch the storm. I got home shortly before the call.
You said that was about nine.
Justine nodded.
Where is the farmhouse located?
Out in the country on a two-lane road in the middle of nowhere. I got really concerned when I drove into the front yard. The place looked like it hadn't been lived in for years.
Justine looked unsettled again.
Go on, Amanda urged.
You were involved in Vincent's defense, weren't you?
I assisted my father.
And you've been to that cabin in Milton County? You're the one who found Vincent's hand?
Yes, Amanda answered softly.
Justine took a deep breath and closed her eyes for a moment.
It wasn't seeing the body that made me run.
Justine exhaled slowly and gathered herself while Amanda waited patiently.
The farmhouse basement is divided in two by a cement wall. There is a room on the other side of the wall. When I walked into the room I saw the table.
What table? Amanda asked as a sick feeling formed in her stomach.
An operating table.
Amanda's mouth gaped open. This sounds like ...
Justine nodded. It was the first thing I thought of. That's why I ran, and that's why I called your father.
Amanda stood up.
I've got to talk to Mike Greene. He was a DA in Los Angeles when Cardoni was arrested. He wouldn't know about the case.
Wouldn't DeVore have heard?
It wasn't his case, and most of the action was in Milton County.
Amanda rang for the guard, then turned to Justine.
The worst part of being in jail isn't what they show you on TV, she said. It's the boredom. Sitting around all day with nothing to do. I' m going to give you a job that will keep you occupied and help your defense. I want you to write an autobiography for me.
The request seemed to take Justine by surprise.
Why do you need that?
I' m going to be blunt with you. I hope I win this case and you go free, but a good lawyer always prepares for the worst. If you're convicted of aggravated murder, there will be a second phase to your trial: the penalty phase. That's when the jury decides your sentence, and one of the sentences that can be imposed is death. In order to convince a jury to spare you I'll need to get them to see you as a human being, and I do that by telling them the story of your life.
Justine looked uncomfortable.
If you don't use the biographical information unless I' m convicted, why don't I wait to write it?
Justine, I hope I never have to use any of the material you give me, but I know from experience that I can't wait until the last moment to prepare for the penalty phase. The judge usually gives you only a few days between the trial and the penalty phase. There won't be enough time to do a thorough job unless we start now.
How far back do you want me to go?
Start when you were born, Amanda answered with a smile.
The locks snapped, and the door started to open.
I'll come back this afternoon for the arraignment. While you're waiting, write the bio. You'll thank me for giving you something to take your mind off your troubles.
Chapter 37
Mike Greene dealt with rapists, killers and criminal defense attorneys all day but always seemed to be in a good mood. He had curly black hair, pale blue eyes and a shaggy mustache. His head was large but did not seem out of proportion because he was six-five with the kind of massive body that compelled males to ask if he had played basketball or football. He had not; he didn't even watch sports on TV. He did play chess and was a rated expert during his days on the chess team at the University of Southern California. Greene's other passion was tenor sax, which he played proficiently enough to be asked to sit in on occasion with a jazz quartet that entertained at local clubs.
Alex DeVore was a dapper little man who always dressed well and looked fresh and alert even at three-thirty in the morning. He had been the lead detective in two cases Amanda had cocounseled with Frank. She remembered him as being low-key and businesslike.
The deputy DA and the detective were sipping coffee from foam cups at DeVore's desk in the homicide bureau when Amanda walked in. A Dunkin' Donuts box with its lid folded back sat in front of them.
I saved a jelly doughnut and a maple bar for you, just to show that there are no hard feelings over Dooling, Greene told her.
Amanda was hungry and exhausted. Can I get some coffee? she asked as she grabbed the maple bar.
We'll even give you powdered creamer if you'll plead out your client.
No deal. I don't cop my clients for anything less than a grande caramel latte.
Damn, Greene answered with a snap of his fingers. All we've got is industrial-strength caffeinated.
Then it looks like we'll have to go to the mat.
Greene filled a cup with a sludgy black liquid. Amanda took a sip and grimaced.
What is this stuff? If I ever find out that you gave it to one of my clients, I'll sue you.
DeVore smiled, and Greene let out a belly laugh.
We brew this specially for defense attorneys.
Amanda took a big bite out of her maple bar to cut the taste of the coffee.
What do you say to some form of release for Dr. Castle?
Greene shook his head. Can't do it.
C' mon, Mike. She's a doctor. She has patients to tend to.
That's regrettable, but you have no idea what's going on here.
Tell me.
Greene looked at DeVore. The detective nodded. Greene leaned back in his chair.
Your client's been using the farmhouse as a torture chamber.
Greene waited for Amanda to react. When she didn' t, he continued.
We found a man in the basement. Greene shook his head and the pleasant smile disappeared. Count yourself lucky that you'll only have to look at the photos. What makes it even more evil is the journal.
What journal?
Your client has kidnapped other victims. The journal is an account of her torture sessions with each of them. She kept them in pain for days. It takes a lot to get to me, but I could not read the journal straight through.
Is the journal in Dr. Castle's handwriting?
Greene shook his head. No, the pages were generated by a computer. Her name's not in it, either. It would have made our job easier if Dr. Castle had signed it, but she didn' t.
So how can you be sure she wrote it?
We found a section of the journal in Castle's house when we executed a search warrant, earlier this evening. It contains a graphic description of what she did to the poor bastard we found in the basement. A copy will be
