“Disappointed, not angry,” she repeated.
“All right, are you ready?”
“Ready.”
“Mrs. Manning, what was your motive for killing your husband?”
She stared at him, and her eyes grew hard.
“Sorry, I didn’t tell you I was going to be Sir Winston, did I?”
“No, you didn’t.”
“You have to be ready for surprises. He may come right out of left field with something, but you can answer it immediately, because you’re relying on the truth, not subterfuge.”
She shook her shoulders and tried to relax her body. “Okay, who are you this time?”
“I’m your attorney. Mrs. Manning, did you love your husband?”
Allison looked as if she might weep. “Oh, yes, I loved him.”
“Don’t overdo it; this isn’t a soap opera.”
“Isn’t it?” she asked archly.
“Mrs. Manning, what reason might you have had to kill your husband?”
“I had no reason whatever,” she replied firmly.
“Now you’re getting it right,” he said.
“Mrs. Manning, how much life insurance did your husband have?”
She frowned and began thinking.
“Don’t hesitate, tell the truth. If he asks you such a question, it’s because he already knows the answer.”
“Aren’t you going to have some sort of structure to this questioning?”
“In court, yes; but not now. I’m deliberately throwing curves at you, because I want you to be ready for anything. Don’t worry about structure right now, or even if I’m Sir Winston or me; just answer each question truthfully.”
“All right, all right,” she said irritably.
“If you think this is hard, wait until the trial starts. I’ll tell you again, rely on the truth, because it really can set you free. If you start striking poses the jury will know it immediately. Try to think of these people as your friends, friends you wouldn’t lie to, friends on whom you’re depending to do right by you, friends you trust.”
“Who are these people likely to be?”
“They could be this island’s aristocrats, or they could be cab-drivers and shopkeepers; we won’t know until they’re there, facing you. Don’t look at me or Sir Winston all the time when you’re being questioned; look at the jury, not as a group, but as individuals. Share your answers with them, one at a time; suck them into your story, each man of them.”
She nodded. “All right.”
“Mrs. Manning, what is the net worth of your husband’s estate?”
“I believe it will be around fifteen million dollars, but I won’t know for sure until all the debts are paid.”
“Good! Mrs. Manning, why would your husband have twelve million dollars in life insurance?”
“Paul had never saved much money, although he earned a lot from the sale of his books. He knew he was a candidate for a heart attack, because his doctor had told him so, and he wanted me to be secure if he should die suddenly. Buying so much insurance was sort of a way of saving, of forcing himself to save, so there would be support for me if he died.”