* * *
Wilson saw that the jurors now hung on every word. Ruth Deverett had come out of her shell. Now she spoke clearly, forcefully. Her eyes danced, even sparkled.
“Mrs Deverett,” Wilson began, “You scraped food off the floor filled with shards of broken glass and proceeded to serve it to your husband. Did you not think this might anger him, given that he had allegedly already beaten you?”
“I had no choice. It was Wednesday and Wednesday is lasagna night. Robert liked routine. I couldn’t not serve it.”
Judge Bowden looked down on her, shaking his head. The bitch is mad. He had begun to despise her. She won’t leave an abusive husband, and then she deliberately provokes him. God help us.
“And you weren’t angry at any stage. You didn’t scrape it off the floor cursing your husband. Rage would have been understandable.” Wilson continued.
“No. I wasn’t angry.”
“If you weren’t angry, Mrs Deverett, can you please enlighten the court as to your emotional state?”
“Thoughtful I think. Yes that would best describe how I felt. Thoughtful.”
“Could you expand on that a little?”
“I was thinking about God. If he exists. That sought of thing. I’m not a religious person. I did go to Sunday school as a child but grew out of it. But at that moment, I began to wonder. Is there a God?”
Wilson fiddled with the papers on his desk again.
“You were thinking about God. Why Mrs Deverett? Did you blame God for what had happened to you?”
“Oh no nothing like that. I knew the fault was mine. Robert was very convincing when it came to apportioning blame. No, I had other reasons.”
“Could you be more specific Mrs Deverett?”
“Your Honour.” Rachel Black rose from her chair. “I fail to see any relevance in this line of questioning. Whether or not Mrs Deverett believes in God has no bearing on this case.”
“I’m trying to establish the state of mind of the defendant Your Honour.”
Judge Bowden did not like Rachel Black. The woman had too much attitude. Her designer suits had not fooled him. Not for one moment. She had had them tailored to show the lines of her body in the most intimate of ways. Her wanton, provocative display would not score points with him. Her seductive prancing he knew was a deliberate attempt to win favour, but she was too skinny for his liking. She could look at him with those dreamy eyes all she liked; he did not find them enticing. He noted that she deliberately stood with her back to the window so that her hair glistened in the sunlight filtering through the side windows, further proof of her seductive intentions. He would order her to pin it up the next time she came into this courtroom. That would fix her.
“Very well I’ll allow it, but get to the point Mr. Wilson.”
Wilson turned his attention back to Ruth.
“Mrs Deverett, did you come to any conclusions on the existence of God?”
“No, and it troubled me. I mean, if someone were to die, it would be dreadful if there was nothing. You know? Just…nothing. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Even Robert.”
“I see.” Wilson said slowly, adopting his special courtroom tone of empathy. “You had considered your husband’s spiritual well being in the after life. The thought of his dying and there being nothing, worried you.”
“Yes. I’ve always been a considerate person. Robert was my husband after all. It only stands to reason, if I needed to be considerate on a death, Robert’s death should come first.”
Wilson paused to give the jury time to think through what they had just heard. Bowden shook his head.