He was fishing, but regardless of the answer he was also giving Lightner a big hole to skate through. He could tell from Lightner's posture, his eyes, that he understood what was being offered. "Yes."
What Lightner did not realize was the price Hardy would have to exact.
"Many times?"
"Several. Yes."
Then Hardy dropped his bomb. "Dr. Lightner, at the time of Larry and Matt Witt's death, were you Jennifer's lover?"
Lightner, apparently stunned, sat back in the witness chair, then turned to the judge. "Your Honor…?"
Villars shook her head no. "Answer the question, Doctor." Although he already had.
Hardy reminded him that he was under oath. He cast a helpless glance across the room at the defense table, at Jennifer. "Yes," he whispered.
Powell exploded. "Your Honor, this witness has already testified, under oath, that he and Mrs. Witt were not intimate."
Villars leaned over. "You're admitting to perjury here, Doctor. Do you realize that?"
Soberly, Lightner nodded, answered yes.
There was a ripple of noise in the courtroom and Villars hit her gavel once. She motioned the lawyers to the front of the bench. "This is your friendly witness?" she asked, but it called for no answer.
Hardy turned to check on his client. Jennifer was a statue, her teeth over her lower lip, biting. He had told her to trust him, that he believed her. He had to let her know.
Stepping back in front of Lightner, Hardy asked, "Doctor, did you ever hypnotize the defendant?"
"Yes."
"Did you tell her, under hypnosis, that she should deny having this affair with you?"
Lightner gulped some air, swallowed. "I thought it would hurt her defense. Compromise her somehow. She was having trouble enough handling what was happening to her."
"You mean the deaths of Larry and Matt?"
"Yes."
Hardy took a moment, stepped toward the jury box, gathering his thoughts, then turned again. "Because you were, in fact, having an affair with Jennifer, some of your time with her, therefore, was not related to your practice? Or her psychiatric condition?"
"That's right."
This was the point, and Lightner understood it. If Jennifer was to have a chance at life, though it cast her and Lightner in a negative light, the affair had to come out, as he would try to demonstrate.
"Did you see Jennifer, either professionally or personally, after December 28 of last year?"
"Yes, of course. I've told you. Almost every day. She was devastated by the death of her son. She blamed herself." There was another buzz, short-lived, behind them. "But Jennifer blames herself for everything."
"And yet she denies killing her husband and her son."
"That's correct."
This wasn't a question, but Powell didn't object and Villars said nothing, so Hardy took a deep breath and continued. "Doctor Lightner, did Jennifer tell you about any decisions she had reached before December 28?"
"Yes. She was leaving her husband. She called me on the telephone on Christmas Eve."
"As a friend, not as a psychiatrist."
"Yes."
Hardy began to lead him through it, slowly, with a rhythm. The fact that Larry had threatened to kill her if she left. The gun by the bed. The increasing tension in the household. He had to keep the story flowing, slipping back and forth from conjecture to fact, slowly working his way – details, details – until they got to Monday morning.
"Now, Dr. Lightner, Jennifer has never admitted to you that she shot Larry or Matt. Correct?"
"Yes. Correct."
"Nevertheless, based on your training and experience, and sitting through this trial, have you formed an opinion as to Mrs. Witt's state of mind at the time of the killing?"
"Yes, I have."
"Incidentally, Doctor, all the information that you have received about this case has come from either Mrs. Witt or from this trial."
"That is correct."
"No one has provided you with any police reports, photographs or information out of court?"
"That's true."
"Tell us then, Doctor, your professional opinion as to Mrs. Witt's state of mind."
"Basically, she was in a panicked state due to battered-wife syndrome. Her husband had beaten her repeatedly. They had just argued. He was running upstairs after her. She was in terror…"
Hardy picked up the pace, keeping the rhythm, setting the stage, bringing Lightner along with him. Larry was running upstairs…
"And what did she do then, Doctor?"
Turning, Matt with the toy gun – the new Christmas present – in the bathroom door…
"And then?"
Matt. Larry's screaming rush toward her. The single shot at point-blank range…
The courtroom was silent. Perhaps ten seconds elapsed without a sound.
"Now, of course, Dr. Lightner, as you've told us, Mrs. Witt categorically and consistently denies any part in these killings. So this is your own reconstruction of events?"
"Yes, sir, it is."
"Entirely?"
"Yes, of course."
Hardy let it go until it had sunk in, then stepped closer to the witness box. "Dr. Lightner," he said, "how do you know about the toy gun Matt was holding?"
The silence grew. Lightner, telling his story, had gotten caught up in the emotion of it. Now, drained, he slumped slightly. Finally, he spoke. "I beg your pardon?"
Hardy repeated the question. How did he know about the toy gun?
Lightner blinked. "I'm not sure."
"But this situation you've just described to us. Jennifer didn't describe it that way to you, did she?"
Powell stood up. "Your Honor…"
Villars did not hesitate. "Overruled. I'd like the doctor to answer."
"I must have seen it in the photographs, then. The ones at the trial here."
"Jennifer didn't tell you about it? She told me Matt didn't have any guns. Wasn't allowed to have them."
Powell stood again. Villars shook her head.
"No, that's right. She must not have. It must have been the photographs."
Hardy, nodding, walked back to his table and picked up the thick envelope containing all the forensic and murder-scene shots. "I'd like you to go through these photographs and point out this toy gun if you can find it."
Lightner took the envelope and began slowly turning the pages. Standing over him, Hardy waited. Villars was a sphinx. Halfway through, Lightner suddenly looked up. "But that was just a story. There might not have been a gun. That's just what I thought had happened. It's informed conjecture."
Hardy again walked to the desk. He reached down into his briefcase and removed a zip-loc plastic evidence bag. Back at the witness box, he opened it and removed Terrell's "mistake" – the realistic toy gun that had been found in the same dumpster as the murder weapon. "This is the gun, is it not, doctor? This is the gun Matt was holding, is it not? The gun that you thought was real. The gun that provoked you to shoot him-"
"God!" Hardy heard Jennifer behind him. "Ken?"
Hardy did not trust himself to move but he could still talk. "This was the FedEx package – a Christmas present from Nancy, Matt's grandmother. How did you know, in your story, that it was a Christmas present? It didn't get to the house until 9:30, after Jennifer had left to go running. You had removed it with the murder weapon by the time she got back. Jennifer never knew it had been there. Did she?"
Lightner shifted on the seat, eyes on Hardy, then around the courtroom, as though looking for help. Finally turning to Villars. "I don't have to answer this, do I? I can take the Fifth Amendment," he told Villars. "I'm not saying anything else without an attorney."
It was his only chance, his last chance.
She had called as she increasingly did when they had been fighting. Larry was beating her.
Why wouldn't she leave him? It wouldn't get any better. All the literature, and the facts, agreed on that. He had told her. And still she wouldn't leave him. She believed she had to keep trying.