“There will be an order of detention for the next person who attempts to mock the proceedings of this court.”
Behind her hand, the forewoman, Ellen Sueda, is stifling either shock or amusement. A progressive teacher, no doubt, whose students aren’t sent off regularly to the principal’s office.
The episode causes Buddy to lose his way. He bends to Jasper Flynn to confer about the roadmap. Lazy, maybe overconfident, Buddy has relied on Flynn to do the tedious tasks of assembling this prosecution.
“Okay, Ms. Delvechio, when did you leave Bamfield?”
“It was a Monday. I’d already lost a day of classes, and had to get back.”
“And where were you the rest of the week?”
“I had a full schedule on Tuesday and Wednesday, then an off day, and I had a seminar on Friday.”
“And on that night, Friday, March 31?”
“I was at the UBC library until late, and after that I was at my mother’s. You can ask her. I was there that entire weekend.” Though accused of nothing, she’s asserting her innocence.
“You were staying at your mother’s because…?”
“Eve forgot to leave me a key.”
Buddy consults again with Flynn, then says, “No more questions.”
Arthur takes a while to think about that last answer. He looks at his watch.
“Are you interested in joining us, Mr. Beauchamp?”
“Milord, I would prefer my cross-examination not be interrupted by the lunch break.”
“Time flies, Mr. Beauchamp.” Kroop puts his glasses on, sees the wall clock reads five minutes to the half-hour. “Oh, very well.”
In the El Beau Room, Brian astonishes Samson by ordering a grapefruit juice. “You on the wagon too, Mr. Pomeroy?”
“I have become a rabid teetotalitarian, Samson.” The waiter walks off, shaking his head. “I’ve started seeing Lila two evenings a week-she’s putting in extra hours, she sees hope for me. I’m getting a ton of insight. For instance: the bikini incident. I’ve been focused on that one wrongful conviction, the case of the planted panties, and have been blind to my other offences.”
Arthur listens patiently but with his mind on Ruth Delvechio. He waits until Brian’s mouth is busy with his club sandwich, then turns the conversation to her evidence, its unexpected gifts. “The chip on her shoulder suggests this self-obsessed woman has something to hide.”
“Yeah, she’s so agony of lost love,” Brian says. “Fragile. Handle with care.”
“I think not. I’ll storm her defences. The jury isn’t buying the twaddle about Winter’s enduring love for her.”
“I’m out of there. The chief has my number, he’ll be onto me like a pack of dogs on a three-legged cat. I like what you’ve done, Arthur, you’ve got suspects popping up right, left, and centre. Buddy is ducking and dodging, they’re coming at him from everywhere. He’s distracted, he can’t see the danger lurking in the bushes, the bingo queen.”
Brian plays with an unlit cigarette. “Caroline stopped lecturing me about smoking months ago, but Lila said that’s because she gave up, complaining was hopeless. I was hopeless, the marriage was hopeless.” He breaks the cigarette and kneads the tobacco into a saucer. “You can see how reborn I am, Arturo. I am the new version of me, booze-free, drug-free, charter member of Adulterers Anonymous.”
Arthur is booze-free and drug-free, smokes only the occasional pipe, and is only theoretically capable of adultery. Maybe he should forget being drug-free and add a little Viagra to his life. Hubbell would have Arthur believe a pharmaceutically triggered erection is the key to ultimate happiness.
Something is missing from Brian’s list of resolutions. Women want more than easy vows of abstinence, but Arthur’s not sure exactly what. Clearly, Brian and Hubbell have no idea either. He suspects it has something to do with listening. Tuning in. Not reading the newspaper while she’s venting about imbecilic trustees.
“Can you find out if Delvechio’s mother backs her up?”
“I’d get on it, but this is a make-or-break weekend. Caroline and I have that couples workshop on Cortes Island. You’ll have to use your scary student.”
“You find Lotis scary?”
“You don’t? She’s an idealist and therefore dangerous. She doesn’t know the legal game, thinks it’s politics.” He represents several of the Gwendolyn protestors, and has got to know her. “Don’t let her loose in the courtroom, she’s a monkey with a buzzsaw. Also, her vibes of godlike infallibility piss me off. She has a Napoleonic complex, she’s a borderline personality. She doesn’t attract me, I prefer the sane.”
Arthur picked up where Buddy left off: “You say Eve Winters forgot to leave you a key to her apartment?”
“That’s right.” Delvechio tosses back her hair defiantly with a glance at Bloom and Quong.
“Isn’t it a fact, Ms. Delvechio, that Eve Winters refused to give you the key?”
“She forgot.”
“Did you ever go back there?”
“Yes, I had all my books and notes at Eve’s, my computer, everything. The caretaker let me in so I could collect them.”
“And you moved into your mother’s home.”
“Yes, in Shaughnessy.” A bastion of the well-to-do.
“Who else resides there?”
“No one now. She’s recently divorced and my sister is away at a private school.”
“And what does your mother doff”
“Dr. Delvechio is the assistant director of a pharmaceutical company.”
“Which is named?”
“Advance Biotechnics Inc. It’s listed.”
“She’s obviously a busy, hard-working woman.”
“Yes, very demanding of herself.”
“Works late? Sometimes on weekends?”
“She was home on Friday, March 31, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“You confirmed that with her?”
“Of course.”
“Did you ask her to say you were home that Friday night?”
Buddy leaps to the rescue. “That’s below the belt.”
“I am cross-examining!” Arthur thunders.
That even restrains Wilbur Kroop, who seemed on the verge of upholding the objection. But he lets Arthur carry on; he will pick his spots to tangle with him.
Arthur retreats from this dicey area, not wanting to reinforce her alibi. “Truthfully, Ms. Delvechio, you weren’t at all eager to leave Bamfield and get back to classes, were you? You wanted to stay with Eve.”
“Did Glynis Bloom say that?”
“Just this morning.” He quotes her answer: “‘Ruth wanted to stay on in Bamfield with Eve. Eve wanted to be alone.’”
“Glynis must’ve been confused.”
“I regret to tell you she was forthright and plain. The fact is Eve wanted a holiday away from you. She found you clinging, cloying, and self-absorbed. She announced your severance so loudly it could be heard outside the cottage walls. ‘It’s over, Ruth. Repeat, it’s over. Do you receive?’”
“She had one of her little outbursts. It was about…nothing.” That tattletale phrase flutters like a flag at a country fair.
“Nothing, Ms. Delvechio?”
“Her emotions were so close to the surface…”
“We accept that, Ms. Delvechio. Tell us what caused her to blow up.” Cyrano’s sniffer has picked up a scent. He snaps his suspenders. “What was the quarrel about?”
Delvechio clears her throat, can’t answer. She is labouring so hard that Buddy chooses unwisely to interrupt. “Milord, this is totally…” But he too must struggle, unsure what he should complain about.
“Totally what, Mr. Svabo?” Kroop says.
“I object to how much time this is taking. I have a raft of witnesses, and I’d appreciate knowing how long he’s going to be with this one.”
Arthur coldly stares Buddy back into his chair. “We’ll move along faster if my learned friend stops playing jack-in-the-box and lets me go about my business in peace.” Arthur is on familiar ground at last, doing well what he does best.