Love Gone Mad (26 page)

“No. Of course not,” Nicole says, closing her eyes. Grayson is certain Nicole is indulging Farley, tolerating this self-serving line of questioning. She’s too cagey a witness to get snared into a pissing match with a cross-examining attorney.

“Do millions of men attempt murder because they were sexually abused as children?”

“No. But they’re damaged people.”

“Damaged? So damaged that they lie in wait and try to
kill
other people?”

“No. They’re damaged and they develop distorted and stunted emotional lives.”

“Damaged in a way that they
stalk a woman for weeks
, ambush her with a knife, firebomb her boyfriend’s house, assault a police officer—all preplanned—and try to slaughter the boyfriend?”

“No, of course not.”

“And, Doctor, who told you that Conrad Wilson was sexually abused as a child?”

“He did.”

“And you took him at his word?”

“Yes. When a man divulges that kind of thing, it’s a core issue in his life.”

“Would you consider his
word
to be scientific evidence?”

“No, it’s not
scientific
.” Her eyes look like they’re laughing.

Yes, Nicole is suffocating the urge to verbally decimate the prosecutor
, thinks Grayson.
She’s restraining herself. She’s a damned good psychiatrist and a fabulous witness, even though she sometimes advocates too strongly for a defendant
.

“Is it objective medical evidence?”

“It’s the patient’s history. All patients give history.”

“But isn’t medicine supposed to be based on science?”

“Mr. Farley, let me assure you that the practice of medicine—every specialty from surgery to psychiatry—is as much
art
as it is science.”

“And Conrad Wilson’s
history
, as you called it, is what
he
told you, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“So, speaking of
art
, could he have been
artfully
lying?”

“That’s possible.”

“Do patients ever lie to doctors?”

“On occasion they do.”

“Has a patient ever lied to you?”

“Yes.”

“And, Doctor, in a legal proceeding such as this one, is there an incentive for the defendant to lie—especially to a psychiatrist evaluating him for
trial
purposes?”

“There can be.”

“Thank you, Doctor. I have no more questions,” Farley says, sitting down.

“Mr. Kovac, any redirect?” asks Judge Burke.

“Yes, Your Honor,” says Kovac, going to the lectern.

“Dr. DuPont, is Conrad Wilson lying when he talks about an affair between his ex-wife and Dr. Douglas and about Marlee being their daughter?”

“No. He’s telling the truth.”

“
Truth
? How on earth is that
true
?”

“He’s telling
his
truth. It’s
his
sick, psychotic, inner truth. It’s a
delusion
. He believes it to be completely true, even though it’s ridiculous. And he acted on this jealous delusion and sought revenge.”

T
o Adrian, Conrad looks like a hulking bear sitting in the witness chair. Conrad stares straight ahead with that menacing look Adrian recalls from King’s Corner. Those eyes smolder as though something dark and unknowable lurks within him. Adrian shudders as Conrad’s eyes scan the gallery and finally fix on him. He feels malevolence pouring from Conrad like hot lava.

Conrad is cleanly shaved, and his hair is no longer shorn in a military buzz cut. Obviously, Kovac has advised him to change his look to something softer and less threatening. Conrad’s sloping shoulders, massive arms, and chest bulge through a gray sports jacket. His blue work shirt, open at the collar, reveals his thick, corded neck.

Conrad doesn’t wear handcuffs during the trial. It could prejudice the jury to see a defendant manacled. Adrian notices five court officers lining the oak-paneled wall near the witness stand.

As if that doesn’t send a clear message to the jury
.

The jurors glance furtively at Conrad and then avert their eyes. On the gauge of menace and intimidation, Conrad throws the needle way past the meter’s maximum number, Adrian thinks. That metallic taste forms on Adrian’s tongue as images of the cemetery wash over him.

“Now, Conrad,” Kovac says, “You don’t deny attacking Megan Haggarty and Adrian Douglas, do you?”

“I did what I did,” Conrad says in a monotone.

“So you tried to kill these people?”

“Yes.”

“Why in your mind did they have to die?”

“They’re
evil
.” Conrad virtually quivers in the witness chair. “They betrayed me.” A purple vein on his forehead bulges and seems to twitch. Redness creeps into his face, and the pipelike veins on his neck bulge. A court officer edges closer. Judge Burke leans back in his high, padded chair.

“Conrad, how were you betrayed?”

“They were lovers for years.”

“But, Conrad, how do you
know
that?”

“I know. I visited the hospital at Yale where they worked.”

“But that was years ago. They didn’t even
know
each other then.”

“Yes, they did.”

“How do you know that?”

“I know what I know.” His jaw juts with certainty.

A juror in the front row shakes her head. Another furrows his brow and tilts his head. To Adrian, it seems the jurors instinctively lean away from Conrad, as does the judge.

“Can you prove they had an affair?”

“Yes, I can.”

“What proof do you have?”

“She bore
his
child … not mine.”

“But Marlee Wilson’s
your
daughter, isn’t she?”

“No. She’s
Adrian Douglas’s
.”

“How do you know that, Conrad?”

“I can
smell
it on her,” he hisses. His face turns venom-red.

A gasp comes from the jury. Frenetic whispering rises in the gallery. Adrian feels a spasm begin in his foot. His ears feel hot and begin ringing.

Grayson leans forward, watching Conrad intently.

“You can
smell
it?” Kovac asks with arched eyebrows.

“Yes. I smell it coming from the little bastard’s pores, and it’s on her breath. Even her innards reek of him. She’s
his
, not mine.”

Adrian’s pulse throbs in his throat. Heat flares in his chest as though his heart is bathed in acid. It occurs to him that Conrad is completely insane about Megan, Marlee, and himself.

“How can you
smell
it on her?” Kovac asks, moving closer to the jury box.

“Her stench fills my nostrils.”

One juror’s mouth hangs agape. Another blinks repeatedly and then squints at Conrad; disbelief is etched on his face.

“So you’re convinced that Adrian Douglas is Marlee’s father, even though other people’ve said that Megan first met Dr. Douglas only three months ago?”

“They’ve kept it a secret.”

“Conrad,” Kovac says, moving closer, “are you familiar with DNA testing?”

“Yes.”

“That it can be used when there’s a question of paternity?”

“Yes.”

“What if we swabbed Marlee’s inner cheek and yours and had the samples tested for DNA? Would that prove she’s
your
daughter …?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“The lab can’t be trusted. There could be a conspiracy.”

“What if I told you—just hypothetically, Conrad—that we could get a sample of
Dr. Douglas’s
cheek cells, so his DNA could be tested against Marlee’s? And they wouldn’t match. Would
that
change your mind?”

“It wouldn’t prove a thing. Whose samples would they use?” Conrad’s jaw muscles contract as though he’s clenching his teeth. The guards edge closer.

“So, Conrad, you’re convinced … the fix is in?”

“It’s been a secret for six years.”

Judge Burke stares at Conrad. The jurors are wide-eyed; a woman in the second row covers her mouth.

“So, Conrad, why did you try to kill them?”

“There’s so much evil and betrayal in the world. They must be destroyed.”

“Can’t you forgive them, Conrad?”

“Forgiveness is for the weak. Those who’re strong and righteous must eliminate the evildoers. They murdered my soul. It’s soul murder.”

A sucking sound comes from the gallery. Judge Burke glances at Farley as if to tell the prosecutor this man is insane. The jurors stare, wide-eyed and open-mouthed.

The courtroom is so silent, Adrian hears the overhead fluorescent lights buzz like a swarm of insects.

F
arley begins his cross-examination. “Mr. Wilson, this conspiracy you talk about, how did it start?”

Conrad stares coldly at Farley. He says nothing.

“Can you answer the question, sir?”

“I already have.”

“I don’t believe you have, Mr. Wilson. Again, how did this start?”

Conrad shakes his head and says, “If you don’t believe me, I can’t convince you. What you think is irrelevant.”

“What about the jury? Are they irrelevant?”

“Yes. Only the truth matters.”

“Don’t you want the jury to understand
your
version of the truth?”

“They don’t matter.”

“They don’t
matter
? Even though the rest of your life is in their hands?”

“My life ended long ago. My soul is dead.”

“Let me ask you something, Mr. Wilson. You say this conspiracy involves your ex-wife and Dr. Douglas, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Yet when you saw Dr. Douglas at the bar, you didn’t know who he was. It was a random encounter in a bar one night. Am I right?”

“Correct.”

“But you were aggressive with him—a man who did nothing to you, correct?”

“I confronted him.”

“But he was a stranger. In fact, he hadn’t even met your ex-wife yet.”

“So he claims,” Conrad says, as his eyes bore into Farley.

“But you didn’t know his name or who he was, right?”

“Yes.”

“Yet you
confronted
him. Why?”

Conrad’s hands hang over the ledge and curl again into huge hammerlike fists.

“Mr. Wilson, why did you confront Dr. Douglas?”

Adrian’s heart throbs; blood thunders in his ears; it feels like his skull will explode.

“Why were you aggressive with Dr. Douglas that night?”

Conrad’s eyes gleam. “Because I knew he was the kid’s father.”

“How on earth could you know that?”

Conrad’s face darkens and he says, “I could smell it on him. He stank. It was the stench of that bastard kid.”

I
n his closing argument, Farley scoffs at the notion that Conrad Wilson couldn’t obey the law because he was insane. He emphasizes how Conrad’s acts were meticulously planned. “He knew what he was doing was wrong and he was stealthy,” Farley cries. “And he’s using
insanity
as an excuse!”

He reviews the evidence and then says, “The defendant’s excuse is his childhood and the loss of his job. My God, every convict in prison has a reason, an
excuse
. In this society, we’re held
responsible
for our actions. We can’t blame our parents or our circumstances, our job, our luck, or our genes. We
are
responsible for what we do.

“The people ask that you hold
Conrad Wilson responsible
for what he did. The people ask that you find Conrad Wilson guilty for the attempted murders of Megan Haggarty and Adrian Douglas.”

K
ovac begins his closing argument. “Now, ladies and gentlemen, you heard the doctors. And most of all, you heard Conrad testify. It’s clear that he was acting under the influence of a delusion—an
insane
belief. He even thinks he can
smell
his own daughter on another man he bumps into at a bar. And this was a man whom his ex-wife didn’t meet until a few months ago. And he tries to kill them both.

“If this twisted conviction isn’t insane, then what on earth
is
? Ladies and gentlemen, you
must
conclude that Conrad suffers from paranoid delusional disorder, which caused him to act outside the requirements of the law. Ladies and gentlemen, I ask that you find Conrad Wilson
not guilty by reason of insanity.”

A
fter a short recess, Judge Burke addresses the jury. “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m going to instruct you about the law. In this case, the defendant has admitted to his actions, so that’s not at issue.

“What
is
at issue is the defendant’s
state of mind
when he acted. The defendant claims he was insane at the time. The burden of proof rests with the
defendant
, not the state. He must prove his claim by
a preponderance of the evidence
. This means that based on the evidence, you may conclude that the defendant’s claim is
more likely true than not true
. Or it may not be. That is the decision before you.”

The jurors appear to be listening intently.

“The defendant claims that because of a
mental disorder
, he acted the way he did.
That
is the issue you must decide. It doesn’t matter that he can work as a carpenter or a mason or that he may seem normal to the casual observer. What matters only is his state of mind as it relates
specifically to the crimes he’s charged with
.

“Now, your verdict must be unanimous. Your only decision is this one: did the defendant suffer from a mental disorder at the time of his crimes and,
because
of that disorder, was he unable to act lawfully?”

The jurors’ heads nod in unison.

“In other words, you may find the defendant either guilty, in which case he will be sentenced to a penal facility. Or, you may find him not guilty by reason of insanity.”

Burke pauses and looks along both rows of jurors.

“Now, I’m required by Connecticut statute to tell you the following: a finding of
not guilty by reason of insanity
does
not
mean the defendant is a free man.

“If you find him not guilty by reason of insanity, he’ll be confined to a state mental institution for
long-term treatment
. The acquittee—as he is known at that point—will remain confined
involuntarily
. He will remain committed until such time as he is no longer mentally ill, which may take years, or may never occur. So a finding of not guilty by reason of insanity does
not
mean the defendant leaves court a free man.