There are seven courtrooms in the building, each one presided over by a judge and staff.
At ten o’clock Wednesday morning, David Singer was ushered into the chambers of Judge Tessa Williams,
in the room with her was Mickey Brennan. The leading prosecutor from the district attorney’s office was in his fifties,
a short, burly man with a slight brogue. Tessa Williams was in her late forties,
a slim, attractive African-American woman with a crisp, authoritative manner.
“Good morning, Mr. Singer. I’m Judge Williams. This is Mr. Brennan.” The two men shook hands.
“Sit down, Mr. Singer. I want to talk about the Patterson case.
According to the records, you’ve filed a plea of not guilty by reason of insanity?”
“Yes, Your Honor.” Judge Williams said, “I brought you two together
because I think we can save a lot of time and save the state a great deal of expense.”
I’m usually against plea bargaining, but in this case, I think it’s justified.
David was listening, puzzled. The judge turned to Brennan. “I’ve read the preliminary hearing transcript,
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