“Not a lot? In the years you were practicing as a doctor, would you say you had a dozen cases who claimed they had MPD?”
“No.” “Six?” Dr. Raleigh shook his head. “Four?” There was no answer.
“Doctor, have you ever had a patient who came to you with MPD?” “Well, it’s hard to—”
“Yes or no, Doctor?” “No.” “So all you really know about MPD is what you’ve read? No further questions.”
The prosecution called six more witnesses, and the pattern was the same with each.
Mickey Brennan had assembled nine top psychiatrists from around the country, all united in their belief that MPD did not exist.
The prosecution’s case was winding to a close. When the last witness on the prosecution’s list had been excused,
Judge Williams turned to Brennan. “Do you have any more witnesses to call, Mr. Brennan?”
“No, Your Honor. But I would like to show the jury police photographs of the death scenes from the murders F—”
David said furiously, “Absolutely not.” Judge Williams turned to David. “What did you say, Mr. Singer?”
“I said”—David caught himself—“objection. The prosecution is trying to inflame the jury by—”
“Objection overruled. The foundation was laid in a pretrial motion.”
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