Page 37 of The 24th Hour

I thought about my marriage to Joe. A safe haven. Husband, lover, father of our little girl, all of us eating take-out dinners, watching TV. Joe and I brainstormed our cases, occasionally had a week away together. We were happy.

Judy was digging in her bag for her car keys.

“Just one more question,” I said. “Tell me about Arthur Bevaqua.”

CHAPTER 47

JUDY BORINSTEIN SAID, “Walk me out to my car?”

I got to my feet. “Sure.”

As we left the office, Judy said, “Arthur is a sweetie. You probably know he’s been working for Jamie ever since he graduated from Cal State. Jamie bought him a house not far away in Cow Hollow.”

“Wait. I thought Arthur lived here. He has a room on the second floor.”

“I don’t know about that, but Arthur is married. His husband, Simon Bevaqua, is a writer. If I remember correctly, he’s been working on a book about the relationship between animals and humans since the Garden of Eden.”

My jaw didn’t drop, because I’d read the card Jamie left for Arthur.

“I couldn’t have left home without you. Wishing you and Simon continued love, health, and a very happy life.”

Judy laughed. “I made up the biblical reference,” she said. “But as I understand it, Simon’s been writing the book foryears and years. Arthur signs off on the household expenses, does administrative duties, writes employee checks for Jamie. That’s all I know about Arthur except that he was considered invaluable to the Fricke family. Ran things while the Frickes were away, managed the staff and the household budget. I know what he was paid—a lot—and I’d guess he needed the money.”

We stopped at her car, a BMW, in the driveway.

Borinstein said, “I just got it. You’re thinking of Arthur as a suspect? That’s your wheelhouse, Sergeant, but I don’t see it. What I see is that pretty soon Arthur’s going to have to find another job.”

I stood by as Judy Borinstein got into her sharp little Beemer. We mutually agreed to check in with each other as the curtain fell on her visit to the house of Fricke.

I turned back to the house, climbed the steps to the portico, and called Conklin, who was running point for Team Fricke.

He said, “Time check, Lindsay. Nothing new to report.”

CHAPTER 48

THERE WAS THE usual scuffle as the folks in the gallery jostled for seats, put away their phones, slid handbags and computer cases under the benches, coughed, whispered, and settled in. His Honor Henry William St. John entered the courtroom through his private door from his chambers to the bench. All rose, then sat back down. The judge exchanged greetings with the clerk and bailiff, who escorted the jury in. Twelve jurors plus two alternates stood while Riley Boone swore them in, announced the trial part and docket number and that court was now in session.

As the room quieted down, crime writer Cindy Thomas of theSan Francisco Chronicleturned on her recorder. It was a repeat of earlier. Only one thing had changed: Mary Elena Hayes was not in her seat between second chair, Nick Gaines, and ADA Yuki Castellano.

Judge St. John made his customary warnings to the gallery about keeping quiet and penalties for disturbances. Ready to begin, he said, “Over to you, Ms. Castellano.”

Yuki stood, saying, “Thank you, Your Honor. The People call Dr. Stuart Aronson.”

Dr. Aronson was the reason Yuki had decided to exclude Mary Elena from the proceedings today. The witness was Mary Elena’s treating psychiatrist, and although she had given permission for him to explain her condition to a room full of strangers, Yuki felt it safer for her client’s mental health that she not be present for the sharing of these intimate details. The reaction from the defense would surely flip her out.

Bailiff Riley Boone stepped out into the corridor for Dr. Aronson, who entered the courtroom, came up the center aisle, and took the witness stand. Dr. Aronson was of slightly less than average height and weight and had less hair than most men in their forties, but his severe expression and firm step communicated that he was to be taken seriously.

After Dr. Aronson had been sworn in and seated, Yuki asked softball questions about his Ivy League education, his teaching hospital background, and how long he’d been treating Mary Elena Hayes. While they were so engaged, Nick Gaines set up a computer on a stand in front of the counsel table.

Yuki said, “Dr. Aronson, it’s true, isn’t it, that you have permission from the plaintiff to share details of her disorder?”

“That’s correct.”

“And how is this disorder classified?”

Aronson said, “Mary Elena suffers from dissociative identity disorder, abbreviated as DID. Under extreme stress or danger, her full personality is fragmented, dissociated from her core personality, and one or more alternate personalities come forward and take over, in a sense, to protect her. These alternate personalities are often referred to as alters.”

Yuki asked, “Is Ms. Hayes aware of these alters?”

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