“Yes, we were devoted to each other.”
“Were you?” Fletcher paused again. “And the only reason you did not attend the television debate that evening was because Mr. Elliot had asked you to remain at home and make some notes on his performance, so that you could discuss them later that evening?”
“Yes, that is correct,” she said.
“I can appreciate that,” said Fletcher, “but I’m puzzled as to why you did not accompany your husband to a single public function during the previous month?” He paused. “Night or day.”
“I did, I feel sure I did,” she said. “But in any case you must remember that my main task was to run the home, and make life as easy as possible for Ralph, after the long hours he spent on the road campaigning.”
“Did you keep those notes?”
She hesitated, “No, once I’d
gone over them with him, I gave them to Ralph.”
“And on this particular occasion you told the court that you felt very strongly about certain issues?”
“Yes, I did.”
“May I ask which issues in particular, Mrs. Elliot?”
Rebecca hesitated again. “I can’t remember exactly.” She paused. “It was several months ago.”
“But it was the only public function you took an interest in during his entire campaign, Mrs. Elliot, so one would have thought you might just have remembered one or two of the issues you felt so strongly about. After all, your husband was running for governor and you, so to speak, for first lady.”
“Yes, no, yes—health care, I think.”
“Then you’ll have to think again, Mrs. Elliot,” said Fletcher as he returned to the table and picked up one of his yellow notepads. “I also watched that debate with more than a passing interest, and was somewhat surprised that the subject of health care was not raised. Perhaps you’d like to reconsider your last answer, as I did keep detailed notes on every issue that was debated that night.”
“Objection, your honor. Defense counsel is not here to act as a witness.”
“Sustained. Keep to your brief, counselor.”
“But there was one thing you felt strongly about, wasn’t there, Mrs. Elliot?” continued Fletcher. “The vicious attack on your husband when Mr. Cartwright said on television, ‘I will still kill you.’”
“Yes, that was a terrible thing to say with the whole world watching.”
“But the whole world wasn’t watching, Mrs. Elliot, otherwise I would have seen it. It wasn’t said until after the program had ended.”
“Then my husband must have told me about it over supper.”
“I don’t think so, Mrs. Elliot. I suspect that you didn’t even see that program, just as you never attended any of his meetings.”
“Yes, I did.”
“Then perhaps you can tell the jury the location of any meeting you attended during your husband’s lengthy campaign, Mrs. Elliot?”
“How could I be expected to remember every one of them, when Ralph’s campaign started over a year ago?”
“I’ll settle for just one,” said Fletcher, turning to face the jury.
Rebecca started crying again, but on this occasion the timing was not quite as effective, and there was no one on hand to offer her a handkerchief.
“Now let us consider those words, ‘I will still kill you,’ spoken off air the evening before an election.” Fletcher remained facing the jury. “Mr. Cartwright didn’t say ‘I will kill you,’ which would have indeed been damning; what he actually said was ‘I will still kill you,’ and everyone present assumed he was referring to the election that was taking place the following day.”
“He killed my husband,” shouted Mrs. Elliot, her voice rising for the first time.
“There are still a few more questions that need to be answered before I come to who killed your husband, Mrs. Elliot. But first allow me to return to the events of that evening. Having watched a television program you can’t remember, and had supper with your husband to discuss in detail issues that you don’t recall, you went to bed while your husband returned to his study to work on his acceptance speech.”