The Collected Short Stories - Jeffrey Archer [70]
Sir Humphrey rose to continue his cross-examination.
“You have stated under oath, Mr. Menzies, that you are a happily married man.”
“I am, sir,” said the defendant with feeling.
“Was your first marriage as happy, Mr. Menzies?” asked Sir Humphrey casually. The defendant’s cheeks drained of their color. I quickly looked over toward Mr. Scott, who could not mask that this was information with which he had not been entrusted.
“Take your time before you answer,” said Sir Humphrey.
All eyes turned to the man in the witness seat.
“No,” said Menzies and quickly added, “but I was very young at the time. It was many years ago and all a ghastly mistake.”
“All a ghastly mistake?” repeated Sir Humphrey, looking straight at the jury. “And how did that marriage end?”
“In divorce,” Menzies said quite simply.
“And what were the grounds for that divorce?”
“Cruelty,” said Menzies, “but …”
“But … would you like me to read out to the jury what your first wife swore under oath in court that day?”
Menzies stood there shaking. He knew that “No” would damn him and “Yes” would hang him.
“Well, since you seem unable to advise us, I will, with your permission, My Lord, read the statement made before Mr. Justice Rodger on June 9, 1961, at the Swindon County Court by the first Mrs. Menzies.” Sir Humphrey cleared his throat. “‘He used to hit me again and again, and it became so bad that I had to run away for fear he might one day kill me.’” Sir Humphrey emphasized the last five words.
“She was exaggerating!” shouted Menzies from the witness box.
“How unfortunate that poor Miss Carla Moorland cannot be with us today to let us know if your story about her is also an exaggeration.”
“I object, My Lord,” said Mr. Scott. “Sir Humphrey is harassing the witness.”
“I agree,” said the judge. “Tread more carefully in future, Sir Humphrey.”
“I apologize, My Lord,” said Sir Humphrey, sounding singularly unapologetic. He closed the file to which he had been referring and replaced it on the desk in front of him before taking up a new one. He opened it slowly, making sure all in the court were following every movement before he extracted a single sheet of paper.
“How many mistresses have you had since you were married to the second Mrs. Menzies?”
“Objection, My Lord. How can this be relevant?”
“My Lord, it is relevant, I respectfully suggest. I intend to show that this was not a business relationship that Mr. Menzies was conducting with Miss Moorland but a highly personal one.”
“The question can be put to the defendant,” ruled the judge.
Menzies said nothing as Sir Humphrey held up the sheet of paper in front of him and studied it.
“Take your time because I want the exact number,” Sir Humphrey said, looking over the top of his glasses.
The seconds ticked on as we all waited.
“Hmm—three, I think,” Menzies said eventually in a voice that just carried. The members of the press began scribbling furiously.
“Three,” said Sir Humphrey, staring at his piece of paper in disbelief.
“Well, perhaps four.”
“And was the fourth Miss Carla Moorland?” Sir Humphrey asked. “Because you had sexual intercourse with her that evening, didn’t you?”
“No, I did not,” said Menzies, but by this time few in that courtroom could have believed him.
“Very well then,” continued Sir Humphrey, as he placed the piece of paper on the bench in front of him. “But before I return to your relationship with Miss Moorland, let us discover the truth about the other four.”
I stared at the piece of paper from which Sir Humphrey had been reading. From where I was seated I could see that there was nothing written on it at all. A blank white sheet lay before him.
I was finding it hard to keep a grin off my face. Menzies’s adulterous background was an unexpected bonus for me and the press—and I couldn’t help wondering how Carla would have reacted if she had known about it.
Sir Humphrey spent the rest of the day making Menzies relate the details of his relationships with