Jackson hesitated, as if about to add something and changing his mind abruptly. He hooked his thumbs in his belt, doing it in slow motion, collecting his thoughts. I had the feeling either he had been about to say violence had won the West, but that would bring him in: the Indian bit. Or was he about to give them the old chestnut about the Bible being full of sex and violence, and afraid it might offend a juror?
Matt was resting his chin on his left hand, looking like those horrible author-portraits on old fashioned jackets. Kolcicki was chewing away—undoubtedly Jackson had joined his personal list of “bastards.” Or did any defense lawyer automatically get that title?
Is a normal voice Jackson said, “Now let us open the Pandora's Box that was the private life of Mr. and Mrs. Matt Anthony. They had a sophisticated life, different from ours. For example, few of us have either the time or imagination to play a joke on our wife by swimming underwater and pulling at her fishing line. Nor do we wake up one morning and suddenly decide to go to Europe. They were happy—at least Matt Anthony was. He has not only testified to that, but you hare seen photos of Francine Anthony. She was neither a young woman when she married Matt Anthony, nor a beautiful woman. Since...”
Matt sat up, a scowl on his face. I expected him to jump up and say he didn't want his wife talked about. He began writing.
“... they had both been divorced before, there weren't any religious or ethical grounds on which they were against divorce. Therefore, if they hadn't been happy they would have separated years ago. What sort of a woman was Francine Anthony? The State's witnesses, the Hunters, Miss Fitzgerald, have given us a clear picture—she was a carping woman, constantly nagging her husband. Unfortunately that is not an uncommon practice, at one time or another we have all been nagged by our wives or husbands. But as I have proved, writing is a special kind of occupation. You and I, if we have a little family quarrel at night, or during breakfast, we go to our offices, our jobs, and there is a cooling off period for eight or more hours. But suppose your wife followed you to your job, kept nagging you there? It's a strange picture but the picture you must see: you're a grocery clerk and your wife enters the store a few minutes after you start work and keeps carping about some petty family matter all day long. Obviously you would be unable to work. You would either have to get her out of the store or lose your job. Probably if she did that, you would have her sent to a mental institution for observation.
“A strange picture? But an everyday one in the Anthony home! For Matt Anthony's office, his store, was his home. You have heard him testify he thought about his work, his creative work, all day long. And all day long Francine Anthony nagged about his friends, his swimming, an aqua-lung. Obviously this put Matt Anthony under a terrible strain, and not merely for a day, but from the evidence of the State's witnesses, and from Mr. Anthony, this went on constantly. Why did she do this? Was Matt Anthony a bad husband, stingy and unkind, narrow and demanding? Or didn't Francine Anthony understand the nature of his work, his urgent need for inner peace?
“Let us look at the facts. Francine Anthony has previously been married to a writer—a not successful one. At the time she married Matt Anthony he was already an established and well-known author. In other words—she knew from her own experience exactly what it meant to be a writer's wife. Also, if she had read the papers and magazines she certainly knew of Matt's dynamic way of living—a way of living which several famous writers have said is of vital importance to spur the brain juices from which a writer's creative skill flows. In short, Mrs. Anthony was not a sheltered school girl suddenly thrown into a life too exciting and different for her. On the contrary, she was a mature woman well acquainted with writers and their working methods.
“Then perhaps she was doing this out of spite because she thought her husband was mean, a man squeezing every cent? Let us again consider the facts. Before she married Matt Anthony, Francine was supporting herself and her husband by working as a cashier. What could she have been earning then, certainly not much more than $50 a week. Her husband was a failure, their marriage was one of these on and off affairs— is this not a picture of a lonely, bitter and frustrated woman?
“Matt Anthony comes into her life. They fall in love. He pays for her divorce, they marry. Practically overnight this woman—neither pretty or young—is suddenly raised from a dreary life of frustration to a dream of luxury. She traveled about the country, in Europe, the West Indies. She had a fabulous house not far from here, boats, a maid, charge accounts and good clothes, mink coats. Through her husband she met famous people, had expensive fishing and golf equipment, hundreds of dollars a week, for household expenses— she was Mrs. Matt Anthony. You heard Miss Fitzgerald, the maid, testify that at no time did Francine Anthony do a bit of work around the house, not even the shopping. She didn't have to, she was the wife of a successful man. She and Mr. Anthony lived big. True, Mr. Anthony was not a millionaire, nor was his income in the upper brackets, but the Anthonys lived better than most millionaires do! From the testimony it is obvious Francine Anthony also enjoyed this luxury living. Sometimes, we have been told, she complained that Matt was spending too much money—but wasn't that sheer hypocrisy when she spent thousands of dollars on her fishing equipment? I have yet to hear of a $350 set of golf clubs or a $650 fishing reel being considered a family necessity! And if they were spending too much money—mind you, I said they, for they spent it together—what perverse mental quirk made Francine Anthony literally bite the hand that fed her so well? For every cent of their income came from Matt Anthony's brains, from his wits and creative imagination—and these she tried to strangle with her nagging. Was she jealous of his success? Did this neurotic woman envy her husband's ability? Indeed, our Pandora's Box reveals an odd and twisted relationship, twisted by a woman so used to failure she couldn't stand success, thus had to destroy it!” Jackson hung out his hands in appeal. Then he held on to the jury box rail, his rugged face full of tragic sadness: the silence in the courtroom was absolute.
Suddenly he slapped the rail, a hard slapping sound, as he boomed, “What other fact can explain this except that some part of Francine Anthony's mind had cracked? Was Matt Anthony doing anything that would upset his wife? Was he running with other women? Was he drinking to excess? Was he lazy? Did he deny her anything? Did he beat her? No! You have heard the testimony of the Hunters, long-time friends of the Anthonys—they said nothing about women or his being a drunkard. Then, coming to the fateful day of July 25th, let us see why she was nagging her husband on that day. She was annoyed because Matt had brought an old friend to the Anthony home! A friend Matt had not seen in many years, a buddy in trouble, and because Matt Anthony asked this man into his own home for a drink, showed him ordinary hospitality, Francine Anthony threatened to make a scene! In the name of common sense, I ask you, ladies and gentlemen, was Francine Anthony a rational woman? A wife isn't expected to like all of her husband's friends, but she most certainly is expected to have sufficient manners not to insult them! Certainly a man has the right to choose his friends—but not Matt Anthony, his wife set herself up as the supreme judge of who should be Mart's friends and who should not! Mind you, all this despite the fact she had never met the friend in question before, that Matt Anthony's friendship with this man dated back to Mart's days as a college instructor—long before he ever knew of Francine. She didn't even have the decency to upbraid her husband in private but nagged him openly—before their houseguests. If your husband or wife tried to make a fool of you before friends, wouldn't that put your nerves on edge? Was this the act of a loving and considerate wife? Indeed not, it was the work of a shrew, a woman perhaps mentally upset by a change of life process, a mental midget who tried to henpeck a giant of a man—her loving and tolerant husband!”