The 6th Target

in her ears. She cleared the slight croak in her throat, then greeted the jurors and launched into her summation.

'We're not here to decide whether or not Mr. Brinkley has psychological problems,' Yuki said. 'We all have problems, and some of us handle them better than others. Mr. Brinkley said he heard an angry voice in his head, and maybe he did.

'We can't know, and it doesn't matter.

'Mental illness is not a license to kill, Ladies and Gentlemen, and hearing voices in his head doesn't change the fact that Alfred Brinkley knew what he was doing was wrong when he executed four innocent people, including the most innocent – a nine- year-old boy.

'How do we know that Mr. Brinkley knew what he was doing was wrong?' she asked the jury. 'Because his behavior, his actions, gave him away.'

Yuki paused for effect, looked around the room. She noted Len Parisi's hulk and pinched expression, Brinkley's crazy glower – and she saw that the jurors were all tuned in, waiting for her to continue…

'Let's look at Mr. Brinkley's behavior,' she said. 'First, he carried a loaded Smith amp; Wesson Model 10 handgun onto the ferry.

'Then he waited for the ferry to dock so he wouldn't be stuck in the middle of the bay with no way out.

'These acts show forethought. These acts show premeditation.

'While the Del Norte was docking,' Yuki said, keeping her eyes on the jury, 'Alfred Brinkley took careful aim and unloaded his gun into five human beings. Then he fled. He ran like hell,' Yuki said. 'That's consciousness of guilt. He knew what he did was wrong.

'Mr. Brinkley evaded capture for two days before he turned himself in and confessed to the crimes – because he knew what he'd done was wrong.

'We may never know precisely what was in Mr. Brinkley's head on November first, but we know what he did.

'And we know for certain what Mr. Brinkley told us in his own words yesterday afternoon.

'He lined up the gun sight on his victims,' Yuki said, making her hand into a gun and slowly swinging it around in a semicircle, shoulder high, sweeping the gallery and the jury box.

'He pulled the trigger six times. And he warned us that he's a dangerous man.

'Frankly, the best evidence of Mr. Brinkley's sanity is that he agreed with us on both points.

'He's guilty.

'And he should be given the maximum punishment allowed by law. Please give Mr. Brinkley what he asked for so that we never have to worry about him carrying a loaded firearm ever again.'

Yuki felt flushed and excited when she sat down beside Len Parisi. He whispered, 'Great close, Yuki. First class.'

Chapter 121

MICKEY SHERMAN STOOD IMMEDIATELY. He faced the jury and told them a simple and tragic story as if he were speaking to his mother or his girlfriend.

'I've gotta tell you, folks,' he said, 'Fred Brinkley meant to fire his gun on those people, and he did it. We never denied it and we never will.

'So what was his motive?

'Did he have a gripe with any of the victims? Was this a stickup or drug deal gone bad? Did he shoot people in self-defense?

'No, no, no, and no.

'The police failed to find any rational reason why Fred Brinkley would have shot those people because there was no motive. And when there's zero motive for a crime, you're still left with the question – why?

'Fred Brinkley has schizoaffective disorder, which is an illness, like leukemia or multiple sclerosis. He didn't do anything wrong in order to get this illness. He didn't even know he had it.

'When Fred shot those people, he didn't know that shooting them was wrong or even that those people were real. He told you. All he knew was that a loud, punishing voice inside his head was telling him to kill. And the only way he could get the voice to stop was to obey.

'But you don't have to take our word for it that Fred Brinkley is legally insane.

'Fred Brinkley has a history of mental illness going back fifteen years to when he was a patient in a mental institution.

'Dozens of witnesses have testified that they've heard Mr. Brinkley talking to television sets and singing to himself and slapping his forehead so hard that his handprint remained visible long afterward – that's how much he wanted to knock the voices out of his head.

'You've also heard from Dr. Sandy Friedman, a highly regarded clinical and forensic psychiatrist who examined Mr. Brinkley three times and diagnosed him with schizoaffective disorder,' Sherman said, pacing now as he talked.

'Dr. Friedman told us that at the time of the crime, Fred Brinkley was in a psychotic, delusional state. He was suffering from a mental disease or defect that prevented him from conforming his conduct to the laws of society. That's the definition of legal insanity.

'This is not a lawyer-created illness,' Sherman said. He walked two paces to the defense table and picked up a heavy hardcover book.

'This is the DSM-IV, the diagnostic bible of the psychiatric profession. You'll have it with you in the deliberation room so that you can read that schizoaffective disorder is a psychosis – a severe mental illness that drives the actions of the person who has it.

'My client is not admirable,' he said. 'We're not trying to pin a medal on him. But Fred Brinkley is not a criminal, and nothing in his past suggests otherwise. His conduct yesterday demonstrated his illness. What sane man asks the jury to have him put to death?'

Sherman went back to the defense table, put down the book, and sipped from his water glass before returning to the lectern.

'The evidence of insanity is overwhelming in this case. Fred Brinkley did not kill for love or hate or money or thrills. He is not evil. He's sick. And I'm asking you today to do the only fair thing.

'Find Fred Brinkley 'not guilty' by reason of insanity.

'And trust the system to keep the citizens safe from this man.'

Chapter 122

'IT'S TOO BAD you guys didn't catch Yuki's close,' Cindy said, putting an affectionate arm around Yuki, beaming across the table at Claire and myself. 'It was killer.'

'This would be your impartial journalistic point of view?' Yuki asked, coloring a little but smiling as she tucked her hair behind her ears.

'Hell, no.' Cindy laughed. 'This is me speaking. Off the record.'

We were at MacBain's, across from the Hall, all four of us with our cell phones on the table. Sydney MacBain,