Amateurs
often panic, and that’s when they make simple mistakes,” he repeated almost in
a whisper. “Because the truth is that once Mr. Cartwright had walked past you
in the hallway, you then ran into the study, picked up the gun and realized
this was a perfect opportunity to be rid of a husband you’d despised for years.
The shot Mr. Cartwright heard as he was driving away from the house was indeed
the bullet that killed your husband, but it wasn’t Mr. Cartwright who pulled
the trigger, it was you. What Mr. Cartwright did do was give you the perfect
alibi, and a solution to all your problems.” He paused and, turning away from
the jury, added, “If only you had remembered to remove your wristwatch and
pearls before you came downstairs, closed the front door and then phoned for an
ambulance, rather than the chief of police, you would have committed the
perfect murder, and my client would be facing the death penalty.”
“I
didn’t kill him.”
“Then
who did? Because it can’t have been Mr. Cartwright, as he left some time before
the second shot was fired. I feel sure you recall his words when confronted by
the chief-”he was still alive when I left him,” and by the way, Mr. Cartwright
didn’t find it necessary to change out of the suit he’d been wearing earlier
that evening.”
Once
again Fletcher turned to face the jury, but they were now all staring at Mrs.
Elliot.
She
buried her head in her hands and whispered, “Ralph’s the one who should be on
trial. He was responsible for his own death.”
However
firmly Judge
Kravats
called the court to order, it
was still some time before he was able to restore calm. Fletcher waited until
he had complete silence, before he delivered his next sentence.
“But
how is that possible, Mrs. Elliot?” he asked. “After all, it was Detective
Petrowski
who pointed out that it’s quite difficult to
shoot yourself from four feet away.”
“He
made me do it.”
Ebden
leaped to his feet as the public began repeating the sentence to each other.
“Objection,
your honor, the witness is being
. .”
“Overruled,”
said Judge
Kravats
firmly.
“Sit
down, Mr.
Ebden
, and remain seated.” The judge turned
his attention back to the witness.
“What
did you mean, Mrs. Elliot, by “he made me do it”?”
Rebecca
turned to the judge, who looked down at her with concern. “You honor, Ralph was
desperate to win the election at any cost, and after Nat told him that Luke had
committed suicide, he HSF knew he no longer had any hope of becoming governor.
He kept pacing around the room repeating the words, “I will still kill you,” if
then he snapped his fingers and said, “I’ve got the solution,
you’re .
” going to have to do it.”“
“What
did he mean by that?” asked the judge.
“To
begin with I didn’t understand myself, your honor,
then
he started shouting at me. He said,
There’s
no time to
argue, otherwise he’ll get away, and then we’ll never be able to pin it on him,
so I’ll tell you exactly what you’re going to do. First, you’ll shoot me in the
shoulder, and then you’ll call the chief at home and tell him that you were in
the bedroom when you heard the first shot. You came rushing downstairs when you
heard the second shot, and that’s when you saw Cartwright running out of the
front door.”“
“But
why did you agree to go along with this outrageous suggestion?” asked the
judge.
“I
didn’t,” said Rebecca. “I told him if there was any shooting to be
done,
he could do it himself, because I wasn’t going to get
involved.”
“And
what did he say to that?” asked the judge.
“That
he couldn’t shoot himself because the police would be able to work that out,
but if I did it, they would never know.”
“But
that still doesn’t explain why you agreed to go through with it?”
“I
didn’t,” repeated Rebecca quietly.
“I
told him I would have nothing to do with
it,
Nat had
never done me any harm. But then Ralph grabbed the gun and said, ‘If you’re not
willing to go through with it, then there’s only one alternative, I’ll have to
shoot you.” I was terrified, but all he said was, I’ll tell everyone that it
was Nat Cartwright who killed my wife when she tried to come to my rescue, then
they’ll be even more sympathetic when I play the part of the grieving widower.”
He laughed, and added, ‘Don’t think I wouldn’t do it.” He then took a
handkerchief out of his pocket and said, “Wrap this around your hand, so your
fingerprints won’t be on the gun.”“ Rebecca was silent for some time before she
whispered, “I remember picking up the gun and pointing it at Ralph’s shoulder,
but I closed my eyes just as I pulled the trigger. When I opened them, Ralph
was slumped in the corner.
I
didn’t need to check to know that he was dead. I panicked, dropped the gun, ran
upstairs and called the chief at home just as Ralph had told me to. Then I
started to undress. I’d just put on my robe when I heard the siren. I looked
through the curtains and saw a police car turning into the driveway. I ran back
downstairs as the car was pulling up outside the house, which didn’t leave me
enough time to close the front door. I slumped down in the hallway just before
Detective
Petrowski
came rushing in.” She bowed her
head and this time the weeping was genuine and unrehearsed. Whispering turned
to chattering as everyone in the courtroom began to discuss Rebecca’s
testimony.
Fletcher
turned to face the state’s attorney, who was in a huddle, consulting his team.
He made no attempt to hurry them, and returned to take his seat next to Nat. It
was some time before
Ebden
eventually rose from his
place.
“Your honor.”
“Yes,
Mr.
Ebden
?” said the judge.
“The
state withdraws all charges against the defendant.” He paused for some time.
“On a personal note,” he added as he turned to face Nat and Fletcher, “having
watched you as a team, I can’t wait to see what will happen when you’re up
against each other.”
Spontaneous
applause broke out from the public benches, and the noise was such that they
did not hear the judge release the prisoner, dismiss the jury, and declare the
case closed.
Nat
leaned across and almost had to shout, “Thank you,” before adding, “
two
inadequate words as I’ll spend the rest of my life in
your debt without ever being able to properly repay you. But nevertheless,
thank you.”
Fletcher
smiled. “Clients,” he said, “fall into two categories: those you hope never to
see again, and just occasionally those who you know will be friends for the
rest...”
Su
Ling suddenly appeared by her husband’s side and threw her arms around him.
“Thank
God,” she said.
“Governor
will do,” said Fletcher, as Nat and Su Ling laughed for the first time in
weeks. Before Nat could respond, Lucy came bursting through the barrier and
greeted her father with the words, “Well done, Dad, I’m very proud of you.”
“Praise
indeed,” said Fletcher. “Nat, this is my daughter Lucy, who fortunately isn’t
yet old enough to vote for you, but if she were...” Fletcher looked around, “so
where’s the woman who caused all this trouble in the first place?”
“Mom’s
at home,” replied Lucy. “After all, you did tell her it would be at least
another week before Mr. Cartwright would be on the stand.”
“True,”
said Fletcher.
“And
please pass on my thanks to your wife,” said Su Ling. “We will always remember
that it was Annie who persuaded you to rep resent my husband. Perhaps we can
all get together in the near future, and
. .”
“Not
until after the election,” said Fletcher firmly, “as I’m still hoping that at
least one member of my family will be voting for me.” He paused, and turning to
Nat said, “Do you know the real reason I worked so hard on this case?”
“You
couldn’t face the thought of having to spend the next few weeks with Barbara
Hunter,” said Nat.
“Something
like
that,” he said, with a smile.
Fletcher
was about to go across and shake hands with the state’s team, but stopped in
his tracks when he saw Rebecca Elliot still sitting in the witness stand
waiting for the court to clear. Her head was bowed, and she looked forlorn and
lonely.
“I
know it’s hard to believe,” said Fletcher, “but I actually feel sorry for her.”
“You
should,” said Nat, “because one thing’s for certain, Ralph Elliot would have
murdered his wife if he had thought it would win him the election.”
REVELATION
fletcher sat in his Senate office reading the morning papers the day after the
trial.
“What
an ungrateful lot,” he said, passing the Hartford Courant across to his
daughter.
“You
should have left him to fry,” said Lucy as she glanced at the latest opinion
poll figures.
“Expressed
with your usual elegance and charm,” said Fletcher. “It does make me wonder if
all the money I’ve spent sending you to Hotchkiss has been worthwhile, not to
mention what Vassar is going to cost me.”
“I
may not be going to Vassar, Dad,” said Lucy in a quieter voice.
“Is
that what you wanted to talk to me about?” asked Fletcher, picking up on his
daughter’s change of tone.
“Yes,
Dad, because even though Vassar has offered me a place, I may not be able to
accept it.”
Fletcher
couldn’t always be certain when Lucy was kidding and when she was serious, but
as she had asked to see him in his office and not to mention the meeting to
Annie, he had to assume she was in earnest.
“What’s
the problem?” he asked quietly, looking across the desk at her.
Lucy
didn’t meet his stare. She bowed her head and said, “I’m pregnant.”
Fletcher
didn’t reply immediately as he tried to take in his daughter’s confession. “Is
George the father?” he eventually asked.
“Yes,”
she replied.
“And
are you going to marry him?”
Lucy
thought about the question for some time before replying.
“No,”
she said. “I adore George, but I don’t love him.”
“But
you were willing to let him make love to you.”
“That’s
not fair,” said Lucy. “It was the Saturday night after the election for
president, and I’m afraid we both had a little too much to drink.
To
be honest, I was sick of being described by everyone in my class as the virgin
president. And if I had to lose my virginity, I couldn’t think of anyone nicer
than George, especially after he admitted that he was also a virgin. In the end
I’m not sure who seduced whom.”
“How
does George feel about all this? After all, it’s his child as well as yours and
he struck me as rather a serious young man, especially when it came to his
feelings for you.”
“He
doesn’t know yet.”
“You
haven’t told him?” said Fletcher in disbelief.
“No.”
“How about your mother?”
“No,”
she repeated. “The only person I’ve shared this with is you.” This time she did
look her father in the eye, before adding, “Let’s face it, Dad, Mom was
probably still a virgin on the day you married her.”
“And
so was I,” said Fletcher, “but you’re going to have to let her know before it
becomes obvious to everyone.”
“Not
if I were to have an abortion.”
Again,
Fletcher remained silent for some time, before saying, “Is that what you really
want?”
“Yes,
Dado, but please don’t tell Mom, because she wouldn’t understand.”
“I’m
not sure I do myself,” said Fletcher.
“Are
you pro-women’s choice for everyone except your daughter?” asked Lucy.
“It
won’t last,” said Nat, staring at the headline in the Hartford Courant.
“What
won’t?” said Su Ling as she poured him another coffee.
“My seven-point lead in the polls.
In a few weeks’ time the electorate won’t even remember which one of us was on
trial.”
“I
guess she’ll still remember,” said Su Ling quietly as she glanced over her
husband’s shoulder at a photograph of Rebecca Elliot walking down the courtroom
steps, every hair no longer in place.
“Why
did she ever marry him?” she said almost to herself.
“It
wasn’t me who married Rebecca,” said Nat. “Let’s face it, if Elliot hadn’t
copied my thesis and prevented me going to Yale, to start with we would never
have met,” said Nat, taking his wife’s hand.
“I
just wish I’d been able to have more children,” said Su Ling, her voice still
subdued. “I miss Luke so much.”
“I
know,” said Nat, “but I’ll never regret running up that particular hill, at
that particular time, on that particular day.”