Part 9 (2/2)
”Was someone cheating?”
”No.”
”Were you in financial trouble?”
”No.”
”It must have been something big. Surely you remember?”
Mrs. Reid was shaking her head, wis.h.i.+ng the questions away.
Then she said, ”No.”
”Are you saying your husband grabbed you and shook you over something you can't even remember?”
”Asked and answered,” Nigel called out.
”Sustained.”
Daphne spoke softly to Mrs. Reid, ignoring Nigel and the judge. ”Just one more question, and then we're done.”
Daphne made a sad face, as if it hurt her to even ask it.
”Was this fight before or after Mr. Reid's accident, when the piece of metal went into his head?”
There was a painful pause.
”Before,” Mrs. Reid said, so softly you almost couldn't hear it at all.
John faced Mrs. Reid and smiled kindly at her. He looked at the jury, with his understanding eyes and his broad hand on the back of his neck, as if to say: this woman deserves better than what she just got.
”Mrs. Reid, how long have you and Arnold been married?”
”Twenty years.”
”Did you have boyfriends before Arnold?”
”Yes.”
”Did you fight with those boyfriends more or less than you did with Arnold?”
”More, I think. Arnold and I didn't fight that much.”
”But you did fight sometimes, right?”
”Sure. We were married for twenty years!”
John smiled sheepishly, as if to say, you got me, ma'am--that was a dumb question. He let her answer sink in.
”The night you were just talking about, did you call the police?”
”No,” she said, looking confused.
”Who drove you home that night?”
”My husband.”
”Did you go to the hospital?”
”No . . .”
”Did you have bruises?”
”No,” she replied, with a baffled look that said, aren't you on our side?
”Are you surprised by these questions?”
”I guess I am.”
”Why?”
”Well, it just wasn't like that. I mean, police? Bruises? He didn't grab me hard. We were just fighting and he kind of, you know, held me here. It didn't hurt. It was just, you know, pa.s.sionate. We were having a fight.”
”Were you afraid?”
”No. I was p.i.s.sed.”
A couple of the jurors laughed.
”Mrs. Reid, we've just heard a lot about one fight. Except for that one night, did Arnold ever lay a hand on you in anger?”
”No. Never.”
”Did he ever hit you or push you or do anything physical at all?”
”Never,” she said. ”He was a gentle man. With our kids too. He was so sweet.”
”So in twenty years of marriage, you had one really bad fight. Is that it?”
”Objection, leading.”
”Withdrawn. Mrs. Reid, do you think a person should be judged by twenty years of marriage or by one night?”
”Objection, argumentative.”
”Sustained.”
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