Escape (51 page)

Early that morning, she'd met Sipowitz at the parking lot near "the Metro," which is what he called the complex. He drove as fast as he could to the parking garage, and as fast as the elevator could move, they were on the top floor. "Um, Mrs. Sipowitz has something important she needs to share with me privately," he had said to the four guys monitoring the security cameras.

"Sure boss, no problem," one of the four said, as the others tried not to laugh. "We'll let you know if anything comes up. You do the same, eh?"

Sipowitz pulled Natalie back to his office. He closed the door and locked it. "Go ahead, yell all you want," he laughed as he started to unzip his pants. "Nobody will be able to hear you."

Ten minutes later, Malovo pulled her pants back on and looked down at the half-naked body of Leonard Sipowitz. A letter opener protruded from his left ear. She'd been on top and waited for the moment of his orgasm before shoving the blade into his brain, twisting the handle in several violent circles. She'd thought it was sexually exciting that he'd bucked so hard at first and then died in a series of convulsions.
I'll have to try that again sometime,
she thought as she looked at the clock radio. It was 7 a.m.... Plenty of time to do everything that needed to be done.

Malovo opened her cell phone and dialed a number. "Where are you?" she asked. "Good. Are you prepared? Yes,
Allah-u-Akbar.
Now wait for my signal."

She pulled the gun from the shoulder-holster of her former lover. Even with her "wife's" visitor card, she had still had to pass through a metal detector. The fact that he always wore a Colt .45 to work made getting a firearm into the building that much easier.

She tucked the gun into the back of her waistband and walked into the monitoring room. The four young men watching the screens looked up, then went back to their duties. Sometimes the boss took a nap to recover from one of his little morning workouts.

Malovo wasted no time. The control center was also soundproofed, so she wasn't worried about the roar of the .45 as she shot first one, then the next, and then a third young man. The fourth she kept alive.

"Shhhhh, Billy." She pointed the gun at his head. "This is a robbery. Nothing worth losing your life about, am I not correct?"

"Yes, ma'am," Billy replied. He was the youngest and, she'd guessed correctly, the easiest to manipulate.

"Then do exactly as I say. First, clean the blood off those other monitors. I can't see a thing in them."

When Billy finished, Malovo had him handcuff himself to his desk with a telephone next to him. "If someone calls," she said, "you will answer as you would normally. Any attempt to give a warning, and I will shoot you in the balls and let you bleed to death. Your idiot boss told me the code words, so don't try anything stupid. Now be a good boy, and you will do better than your friends."

With Billy secured, Malovo flipped through the monitors to ascertain the whereabouts of the other security guards. The two at the front desk were chatting and drinking coffee; the other four on duty were making the early-morning rounds on various floors.

Satisfied that none were in problem areas, she dialed the telephone number of the man who had called earlier. "Okay, Car One, proceed." She turned to watch the monitor for the entrance to the underground garage until she saw the van turn in, and then switched to the garage camera.

The van pulled into a space and disgorged a half-dozen men armed with submachine guns and pistols. As they ran for the elevator, she checked the monitor and then spoke again into her telephone. "Fifth floor. He's in the hallway just to the right."

Malovo watched as the team burst from the elevator and took the guard by surprise. They incapacitated him with a stun gun and dragged him into the elevator.

"Second target, tenth floor."

Malovo's team captured the other patrolling security men in short order. They then transported their hostages to the nineteenth floor where, using a switch on the console, she unlocked the door into the office area. The four security guards were taken to a back office, forced to strip out of their uniforms, and executed.

Dressed in the dead men's uniforms, four members of the team took the elevator to the main floor, where they captured the two remaining guards. Two of Malovo's men remained at the front desk while the others took these guards back to the nineteenth floor to also be stripped and shot.

Except for the two on the front desk, the remaining members of the team returned to the garage. Malovo called a second number. "Car Two, proceed." She watched as the second van pulled into the garage and parked next to the first.

Another six men, including Azahari Mujahid and Abu Samar, got out of the van. Along with the first team, they now began loading dollies with C-4 explosives, which were transported along with wires and pager detonators to the nineteenth floor.

Once all of the explosives were transported, Malovo flipped on the audio switch that would allow her to broadcast to the nineteenth-floor, which housed the offices for a securities trading firm. The employees would have an unexpected and unpleasant surprise when they arrived for work.

"Congratulations, warriors of Islam," she said, winking at Billy. "You have completed Phase One. It is now 7:30, one-half hour before your next hostages will be arriving for work. You know what to do."

She picked out Mujahid, who with Samar was standing off a little to the side of the others. "Sheik Mujahid."

"Yes."

"My men will take care of any arrivals," she said. "You may proceed with your mission.
Allah-u-Akbar!"

Malovo turned off the audio switch. "So Billy, where are you from?"

As the trial of Jessica Campbell resumed Tuesday morning, Dr. Louise "Niki" Nickles poked her head into the courtroom like an actor taking a peek at the audience before a performance, then stepped in. She adjusted a small pink beret on top of her Barbie-blonde hair, pushed the pink-tinted frames up on her nose, and marched to the witness stand.

Sitting down, she waved to the defendant. "Hello, Jessica," she said cheerily, as if they were old friends meeting for tea. Jessica looked up briefly but didn't return the smile as she went back to her drawing.

Lewis began by asking Nickles to brief the jury on her educational and professional background. The psychiatrist spent the next ten minutes reviewing her multiple degrees from an impressive slate of universities, the clinical trials she'd completed that had been funded through the National Institutes of Mental Health, her numerous awards, and a great many published works. At the conclusion of her speech, she smiled and nodded to the jurors as if expecting a round of applause. When none was forthcoming, she arched her eyebrows and frowned as she turned back to Lewis.

"Before we begin your analysis, Dr. Nickles," the attorney said, "you have an ... unusual way of speaking, do you not?"

"Um, hmmm ... yes. I have a speech impediment known as a ... hmmm, ah ... slackwater drawl, which causes me to sometimes ... break my sentences into fragments at odd spots. However, it in no way affects the way my brain ... mmm ... functions." She looked at the jurors. "You just need to pay attention ... hmmmm?"

"I'm sure we will. Doctor, have you had an opportunity to examine the defendant, Jessica Campbell?"

"Yes, on a number of occasions, for a total of about ... ummm, ha ... twenty hours."

Twenty hours at $250 an hour,
Karp thought.
Plus whatever time it took to think about it, discuss it, write it up, and discuss it some more. At least the taxpayers aren't footing the bill this time. And we're not paying anybody to
refute
her.

"And doctor, bearing in mind that another defense witness, Dr. Harry Winkler, has testified that when he saw Jessica Campbell four years ago, she was suffering from postpartum depression, are you able to confirm that diagnosis from your own examinations?"

"Actually ... um, hmmm ... no."

"No?" Lewis asked, looking over at the jurors as if surprised.

"No. While it is certainly true that Mrs. Campbell has... ah, yes ... suffered from postpartum depression in the past, at the time of this, unfortunate occurrence, she was suffering from a much more severe illness called ... mmm hmmm ... postpartum psychosis."

"Postpartum psychosis?" Lewis repeated the words slowly.

"Yes, specifically, postpartum schizophrenia resulting in ... ahem, mmm ... delusions and a loss of touch with reality."

"I see. Now, doctor, I think most of us, when we hear the word 'schizophrenia,' think of 'split-personality'—that is, two or more 'personalities' inhabiting the same body."

Nickles rolled her eyes. "Ah yes, the television version of schizophrenia— Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, one good ... hmmm ... one monstrously bad." Actually, the more proper term for the "split personality" condition was "multiple personalities," she explained. "But it has very little to do with ... um ... schizophrenia. In extreme cases ... multiple personality disorder is where the individual seems to have ... mmm ... a different personality on different occasions. These personalities don't know about ... each other; instead the individual... ah ... acts as if they were two or more different people."

However, the sort of "split personality" that occasionally entered into part of a schizophrenia diagnosis wasn't "a case of more than one personality, each taking turns at being 'up front,' so to speak, but rather ... mmm hmmm ... the deterioration of the one 'original' personality into a second personality, with no going back and forth." Nickles paused. "Am I making myself... ah, yes, mmm ... clear?"

Several of the jurors nodded their heads, but the others looked confused. Karp leaned over toward Kenny Katz. "This is what you think we need our own shrink for?"

"I already cried 'uncle,' what more do you want?"

Lewis, who was watching the jurors for their reaction, turned back to the psychiatrist. "So if this version of 'split or multiple personality' is only one of many components of schizophrenia, what then is schizophrenia?"

"Well, for that let us refer to the
Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders,
or
DSM
for short, which ... ummm, hmmm ... is a handbook for
mental health professionals
listing various categories of
mental disorders
and the criteria for diagnosing them, according to the American
Psychiatric Association,
of which ... ah, yes, umhmm ... I was a past president."

Reciting from the DSM, Nickles defined schizophrenia as "a severe brain disease that... can make it difficult to know what is real and what is not. It can result in false perceptions and ... hmm umm ... expectations, in enormous difficulties in understanding reality, and in corresponding difficulties with language and expression."

"Doctor, we've already identified a variation of multiple personality disorder as one of the symptoms of schizophrenia. What are some of the others?" Lewis asked.

"Well, again referring to the
DSM,
the symptoms are quite wide ranging. They might include ... umm mmm ... psychotic manifestations, such as hearing voices, or assigning unusual meaning to an everyday event, or delusions, which are when a patient is convinced that... false personal beliefs are instead real."

"And doctor, how severe can these symptoms be?"

"Quite severe. They can totally impair ... aha, yes ... an individual's functioning in the world."

Lewis walked over to the defense table and stood next to Jessica. "So doctor, you testified that after more than twenty hours of examination, your diagnosis is that at the time of the ... deaths of her children ... Jessica Campbell suffered from postpartum psychosis, specifically postpartum schizophrenia."

"Um ... hmm ... that is correct."

"And how did you reach that conclusion?"

"Well, we may begin ... with the auditory hallucinations. She heard a voice, or voices, commanding her to perform certain acts."

"A voice? Any particular voice?"

"Umm ... yes, she believed that she was hearing the voice of God."

"The voice of God?"

"Yes, it was part of her delusions, which were also consistent with my diagnosis."

"And what was God asking her to do?"

"Commanding ... God was commanding her to ... ah, yes ... 'send' her children to Him."

"Were there any other aspects to this delusional state?"

"Yes." Nickles looked at Charlie Campbell. "She believed that this was necessary to ... mmmm hmmm ... save their souls from Satan, as personified by her husband."

"Doctor, did this personification of Satan as Charlie Campbell have anything to do with your diagnosis?"

"Yes. This is one of those instances in which there was ... a multiple-personality component... hmmm ... of schizophrenia. I mean, here we had a well-regarded professor of political science at New York City University, active in political ... and community activist circles, a good wife and ... ah, yes ... devoted mom, at least after treatment for postpartum depression following the ... births of her children. And yet this illness got progressively worse with each birth. Her ... mmm hmmm ... 'original' personality began to disintegrate until ... finally she was simply 'not herself.'"

"Not herself," Lewis repeated. "Doctor, in your opinion, when she was 'not herself,' was Jessica Campbell able to understand the nature and consequences of her actions that day?"

"No, I believe that... aha, yes, mmm ... Jessica Campbell was lost in her delusions. She was now a religious zealot performing a ritual that would protect her children from evil and give them to God for safe-keeping. And while that may seem ... um huh ... insane and wrong to you and I, it made perfect, moral sense to her. She was doing as ... ah, mmm, yes ... God requested."

"Were her actions subsequent to the deaths of her children done to avoid punishment?" Lewis asked. "In other words, did she clean up the scene of the crime and hide the bodies because she knew that what she had done was wrong?"

"Not at all. She was complying with the wishes of a higher moral authority ... God. And it's not as though she made rational choices to avoid ... mmm ... punishment."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, if she was really ... hmmm ha ... trying to 'get away with it,' she might have accused a stranger of breaking into the house and taking the children. Or said that she'd gone for a drive with the children and then ... hmmm umm ... somehow struck her head, developed amnesia and ... ah, yes ... couldn't remember what happened to the children. But instead, she told her husband ... mmm hmm ... that she'd sent the children to be with God, as if throwing it in his face. She'd thwarted his efforts to steal the souls of their children."

The psychiatrist, pretending to be Jessica Campbell, swatted at the man sitting in the pews. "Take that, Charlie Campbell! Begone, Satan!"

Jessica stopped drawing at the outburst. Lewis pointed to her. "Doctor, my client, as she sits here today, doesn't appear to be violent or dangerous. In fact, she doesn't seem to have anything wrong with her."

Nickles shrugged. "She is being treated for her mental illness. I believe ... she has been taking quite large doses of... hmmm ... lithium, as well as anti-psychotic medication."

"So is she cured?"

"No. Her mental defect is treatable so that the ... umm, uh-huh ... symptoms are not currently present, but she will never be 'cured' as we think of the word."

"Is she, in your medical opinion, a danger to herself and others?"

"Well, she has been through a ... ha, yes... enormous trauma, and will need psychiatric counseling into the foreseeable future, as well as ... medication to keep her stabilized. I believe that she still ... hmmm ... manifests some suicidal ideation and will have to be watched carefully. However, that is ... related to the remorse she feels for what happened to her children now that she is able to understand ... hmmm umm ... that what she believed was real was actually delusional. But she does not represent a ... hmmm ... danger to others."

"The state would like to see her incarcerated," Lewis said, turning toward Karp and Katz. "Does Jessica Campbell belong in prison?"

Nickles shook her head so vehemently that she had to catch her glasses and push them back on her nose. "No, not at all.... That would be cruel and unusual ... hmmm ... As we all know, prisons have little help to ... hmmm aha ... offer the mentally ill. She would be at great risk for ... mmmm mnnn ... suicide and abuse by other prisoners. Jessica Campbell is a sick woman, not a criminal. Today she may seem fine, but in March, she had no idea what she was doing. She ... was not responsible for her actions. And therefore, she ... ha mmm ... belongs in a secure hospital setting, not a ... prison cell."

"Thank you, Dr. Nickles," Lewis said. "No further questions."