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The next two days were taken up with middle-of-trial witnesses. Friedman’s assistant and Miller’s nurse testified that both men were hardly role models.

The testimony about Friedman’s predilection for trans girls made for salacious news stories, as did the number of complaints about both Friedman and Miller. Jennifer wanted to use these two women to identify the complaint letters to put them into evidence. Hughes objected as to the letters being hearsay. Foster cut the baby in half and let the women testify about them but would not allow them to be given to the jury. They could testify about them as to their legitimacy but not read them in court.

Lorraine Butler, the psychiatrist Marc had sent Robbie to solidified the claim of Mike Curtis that Robbie was not homicidal.

An expert technician, Marc’s guy Jason Briggs found, Kirby Colbert, testified. He took up two hours dealing with the claw hammer. He not only had color photos; he had made a fifteen minute video. What he managed to show was that scratches on any given claw hammer as the type in evidence would make similar marks on skull fragments. Similar but not quite exact. Was he persuasive? Marc and Jennifer agreed. On a scale of one to ten, he was, at best, a seven. Reasonable doubt that the hammer found in Robbie’s dorm room was the one? Maybe. Enough to argue it.

The Thursday morning session was canceled by Judge Foster. He gave no explanation other than telling the lawyers he had personal business to attend to.

Thursday afternoon, Jennifer called out, “The defense calls Dr. Camille Bethany.”

The psychology professor from Northwestern University made an impressive first appearance. With her silver highlighted hair in a bun, a fashionable pantsuit and gold chain holding the glasses around her neck, she bore the air of professionalism very well.

She was sworn in and spoke her employment into the record. Jennifer had not even started when Celia Raines stood and interrupted .

“Your Honor,” Raines began, “we have received the Curriculum Vitae of this witness. Rather than waste the court’s time with the defense enlightening the court with it, we will stipulate as to her qualifications and designation as an expert witness.”

Since Foster had already allowed this for the state’s psychiatrist, he could hardly refuse.

“Granted. Ms. Moore, go ahead and have the witness’s CV entered into evidence,” Foster said.

“Yes, your Honor,” Jennifer replied. She had expected this and she had expected it when Dr. Curtis testified.

With a few formality type questions to identify Camille’s Curriculum Vitae, Jennifer had it presented as an exhibit for the defense.

Having prepared her questions expecting the prosecution to stipulate to her expertise, Jennifer was ready for it. She took almost a half-hour asking questions about Camille’s position at Northwestern and what her job involved. By doing this, Jennifer was able to ask her to explain everything of importance on the CV. Even though Raines tried to cut it off, Jennifer cleverly got Camille to tell the jury anyway.

“In your private practice providing therapy for people, have you counseled many transgender patients?” Jennifer asked.

“Almost two hundred and it’s getting worse,” Camille answered.

“What do you mean, it’s getting worse?”

“When I first began counseling patients, over twenty years ago, for the first ten years or so, I had none. Then, about ten or twelve years ago it started.

“I remember it because it became quite trendy…”

“Objection to the use of the word trendy, your Honor,” Raines said. “She’s trying to make a serious medical problem sound manufactured.”

Foster thought it over for ten seconds or so before saying, “Overruled. You stipulated to the professor’s expertise, now she has something to say because of it. I want to hear this.”

“What do you believe became trendy?” Jennifer asked.

“The explosion of transgender affirmation treatment .

“Think about it,” Camille turned to the jury and said, “We never used to hear about transgender affirmation. Then, about nine or ten years ago, it started and we have heard of little else. And, in my opinion, it started when the left won the right for gay couples to marry. That fight was over and for the people who fought for it, their source of funds dried up. They needed a new cause to solicit donations for or they would have to find jobs.”

“Your Honor, this is pure fantasy speculation and irrelevant to the issue before the court,” Raines objected.

“She has a point, Ms. Moore. Where are you going with this?” Foster said.

“We’re there, your Honor. If I may continue?”

“All right. Overruled. Proceed.”

“How many transgender patients have you counseled that transitioned from boys to girls?”

“All but three,” Camille answered.

“Have you had opportunity to spend time with the accused, Robbie Craig?”

“I have. Several hours,” Camille answered. “I have also reviewed her medical and counseling records and read her diaries.”

“How many of the transgender boys to girls would you say are homicidal to the point where you reported them to the authorities?”

“None that were homicidal. In moments of frustration, anger and depression, I would say seventy-five to eighty percent made angry remarks about killing someone. I knew from my sessions, none of them would act on it.”

“Why do you believe that?” Jennifer asked.

“Because it was always nonspecific, not directed at anyone in particular and said in a moment of frustration.”

“What about Robbie Craig? Did she ever threaten to kill anyone?”

“No, not to me during our time together,” Camille answered.

“Not even in anger?”

“No, not even in anger and she is angry about what was done to her.”

“Of your transgender patients, the ones who were boys and became girls, how many, if any, spoke about suicide?” Jennifer asked.

“All of them, but none serious enough to actually do it, or so I thought.”

“What do you mean, I thought? ”

Camille took a long time to answer and even had to be prodded by Judge Foster.

“I had one who did. She was home alone for a weekend. She swallowed a bunch of pills then called a transgender adult student of mine. The student rushed to her home while calling the police. She got there a little too late. The young girl died in Joan’s arms. Joan was the student.”

“Did Robbie Craig have suicidal tendencies?”

“Yes, she even tried once. Her father saved her. I don’t believe she still has those thoughts.”

“The big question, Professor Bethany. In your expert opinion, do you believe Roberta Craig-Powell could commit these horrible murders?”

“No, absolutely not.”

On cross-examination, Raines did a better job than Hughes would have. She hammered Camille hard on the one suicide patient she had. How could she be so certain Robbie was not homicidal when she had made such a huge mistake?

Raines took her time with this and broke the sequence into many parts, finally getting to the last one, which was a question that Marc and Jennifer had prepared her for. Still, when Raines got to it, Camille sat speechless, without even a weak answer.

Then, Raines shifted to the hired expert questions. This was where Camille turned it on her.

“Just how much were you paid to give your expert opinion here today?” Raines asked with an obvious snarky attitude.

“Nothing, actually. I mean they paid my airfare, a hotel room, a couple of meals and a cab ride. My expenses.”

With that answer, it was Raines’ turn to stare vacantly.

She shook it off then said, “You mean they…”

“Not a penny,” Camille said before the question was asked.

“Wait until she finishes asking her question, Professor,” Foster told her.

“Withdrawn,” your Honor. “I have nothing further.”

“We’ll adjourn for today,” Foster announced while Camille was leaving the witness stand .

She went straight to Robbie who stood to greet her. With tears in her eyes Camille apologized several times.

“No, no,” Marc and Jennifer both told her. “We should’ve brought it out during our questions,” Marc said. “These things happen. Don’t worry about it.”

Maddy left with Camille to drive her to the airport. There are flights between Minneapolis and Chicago about as often as city bus service.

“How much did that hurt us?” Carvelli asked. He was back in attendance with Paxton O’Rourke.

“I don’t know, what do you think?” Marc asked Paxton, an experienced trial lawyer herself.

“A little, maybe but not too bad. I think you still made a crack in reasonable doubt. From what I’ve seen, on that score, you’re ahead on points. Probably by quite a bit.”

Marc asked Carvelli, “How are the girls doing?”

“Fine, in fact, they’re eager. Ms. Moore here did a great job of preparing them.”

“Good, tomorrow, have them here by, say, ten o’clock,” Marc told him.

“I’m sorry, what time? You’ve told me this now eight times,” Carvelli said.

“Did it sink in?”

“I’ll see to it,” Paxton said.