The bailiff stood and read from a single sheet of paper. “The prisoner, Mrs. Allison Manning, is charged with murder, willfully taking the life of Mr. Paul Manning, her husband, on a date unknown between January first of this year and the present day, on the high seas, having departed the port of Puerto Rico, in the Canary Islands, a Spanish possession, and not yet having arrived at the port of English Harbour, in St. Marks. Be it known to all present that the crime of murder is a capital offense in St. Marks, and that if convicted, the prisoner will suffer death in the prescribed manner, which is hanging.” He sat down.
Short, but not very sweet, Stone thought.
“Now,” the judge said, addressing the jurors, “I will explain how we will proceed in this courtroom. The prosecuting barrister, Sir Winston, will make an opening statement of his case, then he will be followed by Sir Leslie, who will make an opening statement in defense of the prisoner. Thereafter, Sir Winston will call witnesses and question them, followed by a cross-examination by Sir Leslie. When the government has completed its case, Sir Leslie may call witnesses and question them, and Sir Winston may cross-examine them. Items may be entered in evidence by either side. When the defense has concluded its case, Sir Leslie will make a closing statement, followed by a closing statement from Sir Winston. When he has concluded I will charge the jury, and the jury will retire to the jury room to consider their verdict, which must be a majority verdict. While we are in the courtroom the bench will make all rulings on the admissibility of statements and other evidence, and the decision of the bench will be final in all matters. Is there any one of you who does not understand what will take place?”
No member of the jury moved, let alone spoke.
“In that case, we will begin with the opening statement of the people of St. Marks, who are represented by Sir Winston Sutherland. Sir Winston?”
Sir Winston rose, smoothed his robes, adjusted his wig, shot his cuffs, cleared his throat, and began to speak.
Chapter
50
Sir Winston bowed to the bench, and his voice boomed over the courtroom, stentorian and didactic. He might have been instructing the jury without waiting for the judge to do so. “Gentlemen of the jury,” he began, though he was looking at the packed gallery rather than at the jurors, “we come here this day to avenge the death of a human being. Paul Manning was a gentleman in the prime of life who had made for himself a successful career, becoming famous and rich. He owned a large house; he owned an expensive yacht; he owned a life insurance policy with a death benefit of twelve million dollars. It was for this wealth that he was murdered by his wife.” He gestured dramatically at Allison in the dock.
“You might not think that she looks the part of the murderess, being demure in appearance, but we will show today how she took the life of her husband, how she cruelly and heartlessly consigned him to the depths of the ocean and watched him die as his yacht sailed away from him. You will hear Paul Manning speak from the grave,” he intoned, and the apprentice shoemaker’s eyes became large and round. “His words recorded in his own handwriting.” He held up the leather-bound diary, and the juror looked relieved.
“You will hear how she plotted his death over many months, biding her time until the moment came when he was helpless, and then she took his life.” He paused and looked witheringly at Allison, as though his eyes were sufficient to punish her. Allison returned his gaze and shook her head slowly.
Good girl, Stone thought.
“When you have heard the evidence against Allison Manning,” Sutherland continued, “you will reach the only verdict that the evidence will permit: you will find her guilty of willful and deliberate murder.” Sir Winston bowed to the bench and sat down.
The judge turned toward the defense table. “Sir Leslie Hewitt will make the opening statement for the defense,” he said.
Stone turned and looked at Hewitt. The little man appeared to be dozing. “Leslie!” Stone whispered sharply.
Hewitt’s eyes popped open. “Eh?”
“Do you want me to give the opening statement?”
“Certainly not,” Hewitt replied, looking around the courtroom. He rose to his feet and bowed to the bench, then, ignoring the gallery, turned his full attention to the jury. “Good morning, gentlemen,” he said pleasantly. Two or three of them nodded in response. “I trust Sir Winston has not clouded your minds,” he said with a chuckle. “The defense has quite a different view of his so-called evidence, as you might imagine, and as you will come to see during the course of this trial.”
He indicated Allison with a warm smile. “Here we have a young woman who, with her much-loved husband, set off on the adventure of a lifetime, sailing across the Atlantic from America to Europe, just the two of them. This is not the act of two people who do not love each other—to be confined for weeks at a time at sea with only each other for company. This was a positive act, showing that these two people were happy together. You will hear from her own lips how they enjoyed their adventure and how, on the voyage back to the Americas, her husband suddenly fell ill and died, struck with an illness about which he had been warned by his doctors, but which he had taken none of the prescribed steps to prevent. You will hear how his death endangered the life of his young wife and how with courage and fortitude she managed to sail a large yacht alone across the sea, to make landfall on our island.”
Sir Leslie cleared his throat and rearranged his robes. “Finally,” he said, “when this trial has been concluded, you will see how this charge of murder is spurious and should never have been brought.” He gestured toward Sir Winston. “You will wonder at the motives of the prosecution in bringing it. And you will have the opportunity to set things right, to return this dear young woman to freedom and her native country, to live out her life as best she can without the sorely missed companionship of her beloved husband.” With a flourish he bowed to the bench, returned to the defense table, and sat down.
Not bad, Stone thought, for a periodically senile old man who had recently been asleep in the courtroom. While it may not have been all he had wished, Hewitt’s opening was at least the equal of Sir Winston’s, maybe even a little better. He was relieved that Sir Winston had not mentioned any witnesses or evidence in his opening statement that the defense didn’t know about. The playing field was level, and that was as much as he could wish for at this point.
The judge turned to the prosecution table. “Sir Winston, call your first witness.”
Sir Winston rose and spoke. “Call Mr. Frank Stendahl,” he said.
Stone sat up straight. “What the hell?” he said aloud.
The judge looked at him sharply.
Stone tried to look ashamed of his outburst. He turned to look at the gallery as Stendahl left his seat and walked toward the witness box. He caught a glimpse of Hilary Kramer and Jim Forrester watching him, looking as puzzled as Stone was.
Stendahl stood in the witness box.
“Take the book,” the bailiff said, offering a Bible and a card, “and read from the card.”
Stendahl grasped the Bible and read, “I swear by Almighty God that the evidence I shall give in this court will be the truth.”
The bailiff relieved him of the Bible and the card.