“Was it for the millions he had earned?”
“I…”
“Was it for the twelve million dollars in insurance?”
“Sir Winston…”
She was beginning to grow angry now, and Stone had warned her against that.
“Was it because you had learned to hate him while you were confined with him aboard the yacht for protracted periods?”
“Sir Winston!” she shouted. “I did not kill my husband!”
“Oh, but you did, Mrs. Manning,” he replied. “There were many times aboard the yacht when Mr. Manning was vulnerable, weren’t there?”
“Vulnerable?”
“Times when a small shove would have put this large man overboard. Weren’t there such times?”
“I did not push him overboard!”
“Answer me, Mrs. Manning! Were there not opportunities?”
“If that was what I wanted, I suppose so. But…”
“As when your husband stepped outside the lifelines to urinate, holding on to the yacht with only one hand?”
“Perhaps, but I didn’t…”
“You could have stabbed that one hand with a knife, couldn’t you?”
“No. I…”
“You could have bitten that hand, couldn’t you?”
“I didn’t!”
“That hand that had fed and clothed and given you every luxury!”
“I did not do that!” Tears were streaming down her face again.
“Oh, yes, you did, Mrs. Manning. This jury can look into those angry eyes and see that you did!”
“You’re mad!” she screamed at him. “Completely mad!”
“But not as mad as you were with your husband. So mad that you could abandon him to his fate in the middle of a huge ocean.”
“I did not!” she bawled. “As God is my witness…”
“Yes, you did!”
Stone was on his feet. “Your Lordship, Sir Winston is badgering the witness, not offering evidence.”
The judge held up a hand to quiet him. “Sir Winston…” he said.
“I am finished with this witness, Your Lordship,” Sir Winston said, looking at her once again with contempt. “I think the jury can see through this performance.” He sat down.
Allison sat in the witness chair, sobbing.