The 6th Target

death but not wanting to show it. So Claire smiled at her as she dragged her butt through the gate and walked to the witness stand.

Claire put her hand on the Bible as the bailiff took her through the 'do you swears,' and then she arranged the folds of her dress that now hung loosely around her from having lost fifteen pounds in just under three weeks. The gunshot diet, she thought as she settled into the chair.

'Thank you for coming today, Dr. Washburn. You just got out of the hospital a couple of days ago?'

'Yes, that's right.'

'And can you tell the jury why you were in the hospital?'

'I was shot in the chest.'

'Is the person who shot you sitting in court today?'

'Yes. That's the little shit-bird. Right there.'

Sherman didn't bother to get out of his seat, simply said, 'Your Honor, I object. I'm not really sure about the grounds, but I'm pretty sure the witness isn't allowed to call my client a shit-bird.'

'Dr. Washburn, he's probably right about that.'

'I'm sorry, Your Honor. It's just the pain talking.' She looked down at Brinkley. 'I'm terribly sorry,' she said. 'I shouldn't have called you a shit-bird.'

The titters in the gallery flowed across the room and into the jury box, until the judge patiently banged his gavel, saying, 'Everyone, and I do mean everyone' – he peered over his glasses at Claire – 'there will be no more of this. This is not Comedy Central, and I will clear the courtroom if there are any more public outbursts. Ms. Castellano, please control your witnesses. That's part of your job.'

'I'm sorry, Your Honor. I understand.'

Yuki cleared her throat. 'Dr. Washburn, what was the nature of your injuries?'

'I had a hole in my chest caused by a.38-caliber bullet that collapsed my left lung and nearly caused my death.'

'That must have been very frightening and painful.'

'Yes. More than I can say.'

'The jury saw the film of the shooting,' Yuki said, Claire reading her sympathetic look. 'Can you tell us what you said to the defendant before he shot you?'

'I said, 'Okay, son, that's enough, now. Give me the gun.' '

'And then what happened?'

'He said something about this being my fault, that I should have stopped him. Next thing I knew, I was being carted off the ferry by paramedics.'

'You tried to stop him from shooting anyone else.'

'Yes.'

'You saw other people try to stop him.'

'Yes. But he took aim and shot us all. Shot Mr. Ng's brains right onto the deck.'

'Thank you, Doctor. Your witness,' Yuki said.

Chapter 76

MICKEY SHERMAN HAD KNOWN CLAIRE WASHBURN for many years, liked her very much, and was glad she'd survived her ordeal on the Del Norte.

But she was a dangerous threat to his client.

'Dr. Washburn, what's your profession?'

'I'm the chief medical examiner of San Francisco.'

'Unlike the coroner, you're a medical doctor, isn't that right?'

'Yes.'

'When you were doing your internship, did you do rotations at a teaching hospital?'

'I did.'

'And you rotated through the psychiatric ward?'

'Yes.'

'Ever see any patients walking around with a blank stare in the psych ward?'

'Objection. Relevance, Your Honor,' Yuki said.

'Overruled. The witness may answer the question.'

'I really don't remember any of my psych patients, Mr. Sherman. All the patients I have now have blank stares.'

'All right,' Sherman said, smiling, hands in pockets, pacing a little bit in front of the jury box, turning back to Claire, saying, 'Well, Doctor, you've had a chance to observe Mr. Brinkley, isn't that right?'

'Big stretch of the word 'observe.' '

'Yes or no, Dr. Washburn?'

'Yes. I 'observed' him on the ferry, and I see him right now.'

'Let's just talk about what happened on the ferry. You just testified that my client said something like, 'This is your fault.' And 'You should have stopped me.' '

'That's right.'

'Were the shootings your fault?'

'No.'

'What did you think Fred Brinkley meant?'

'I have no idea.'

'Did Mr. Brinkley appear to be of sound mind at that time? Did he appear to know right from wrong?'

'I really can't say. I'm not a psychiatrist.'

'Well, did he deliberately try to kill you?'

'I'd say yes.'

'Did he know you?'

'No, sirree.'

'Did you provoke Mr. Brinkley into shooting you?'

'Just the opposite.'

'So you'd have to say that the shooting was basically a random act based upon no foundation whatsoever?'

'I guess so.'

'You guess so? You'd never met him before, and he was saying things to you that just didn't make sense. You saw him shoot four people before he aimed his gun at you, didn't you? Isn't there a simple word that describes someone who acts this way? Wouldn't that word be 'insane'?'

'Objection, Your Honor – argumentative, and that's a legal question for the jury.'

'Sustained.'

Yuki sat down, slumped back in her seat. Mickey saw her eyes dart from him to the jury to the witness and back to him. Good. She was rattled.

'Did Mr. Brinkley seem sane to you, Dr. Washburn?'

'No.'

'Thank you. I have no further questions.'

'Ms. Castellano, redirect?' the judge asked.

'Yes, Your Honor.'

Yuki got out of her chair and approached her witness, Mickey noting Yuki's furrowed brow, her fingers knit together. He knew that Yuki was big with hand gestures and was probably training herself to keep her hands still.

'Dr. Washburn,' she said, 'do you know what Alfred Brinkley was thinking when he shot you?'

'No. I absolutely do not,' Claire said emphatically.