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to get back at him for dumping you?’

‘No, I did not,’ said Lisa. ‘I wanted to get away from him. He was dangerous.’

‘I see. Now that he can’t speak for himself, you are claiming that Troy Petty struck you? Did you ever call the police, seek treatment for your injuries?’

‘I didn’t have injuries. He didn’t strike me. But he was dangerous. He had certain . . . proclivities that I didn’t know about . . . that were disgusting.’

‘Sexual proclivities?’

‘That’s right,’ said Lisa.

The D.A. rolled his eyes. ‘Come, come, Ms Wickes. You’re a medical student. I’m assuming you’re not naive. Surely you could have simply said no.’

Lisa lowered her head and took a deep breath. ‘He didn’t ask me.’

D.A. Castor raised his eyebrows. On the one hand, the D.A. was clearly excited that Lisa seemed to have revealed a motive, beyond greed, for her alleged actions. On the other hand, he wasn’t exactly sure what was developing here. He hesitated, clearly considering the possibility of no more questions. And then he changed his mind and decided to go for it. ‘He didn’t ask you? Are you saying he forced himself on you? Is that why you decided to kill the man?’

Lisa looked him in the eye but her voice was calm. ‘I didn’t kill him. But if I had, no one would have blamed me. I caught him behaving indecently with my two-year-old daughter.’

FOURTEEN

‘You lying bitch!’ Nadine Melton cried out from her seat in the courtroom.

Lisa looked at her blankly as the courtroom erupted around them. Hannah felt woozy. She looked at Adam, who was equally stunned. They could not believe what they had heard. Suddenly it all made sense. Now Hannah understood why Lisa had not seemed very upset when she learned of Troy’s death. Cashing his paycheck almost seemed frivolous, compared to this hideous allegation. She herself felt a sudden, murderous fury at Troy Petty.

‘Order in the court,’ the judge shouted, slamming down his gavel.

Nadine would not be silenced. ‘You horrible monster! How dare you say such a thing about my brother? He was a saint. He would never, never . . .’

‘Bailiff,’ the judge instructed angrily, ‘have that woman removed.’

The bailiff lumbered over to Nadine and virtually lifted her, flailing her arms and protesting, from her seat. He had to half-push, half-drag her from the courtroom.

‘Wow,’ said Jackie, still gripping Hannah’s hand. ‘She never told you or Adam about that?’

‘Adam would have killed that young man with his bare hands,’ Hannah said. Suddenly, a terrible thought crossed her mind. She turned to Adam. ‘She never . . . You didn’t know?’

‘Are you kidding?’ he said. ‘I would have broken his neck.’

His unfeigned fury was all the reassurance she needed.

The D.A. hurriedly tried to turn this unsavory image of the victim to his advantage by going on the attack.

When the courtroom simmered down, the D.A. took a deep breath and approached the witness stand again. Lisa regarded him coolly.

‘Ms Wickes, are you claiming that Mr Petty raped your daughter?’

‘No. I’m saying that he was undressed, and behaving in an indecent manner around her. I think he was preparing to actually assault her.’

‘So your story,’ he said scornfully, ‘is that nothing actually happened. Because if he’d actually assaulted your daughter, there would be forensic evidence of that assault. Conveniently, there is no evidence to be found, is there? Because it never happened.’

‘No, it didn’t happen,’ said Lisa. ‘I made sure of that.’

‘By killing him?’ asked Castor.

‘No, by getting myself and my daughter away from him,’ said Lisa calmly.

‘Aren’t you, in fact, attacking the character of the deceased in an effort to excuse your own actions? You can say anything you want about Mr Petty, now that he cannot defend himself. Didn’t you just fabricate this alleged indecent behavior to try to draw attention away from your own crimes?’

‘No,’ said Lisa calmly. ‘That’s what he intended. He intended to harm my daughter. Naturally, I was not going to see him ever again. I just wanted to get my money back first.’

The D.A. walked slowly to the prosecution’s table, his eyes narrowed, as if he were lost in thought.

‘Mr Castor?’ asked the judge.

The D.A. turned back to stare at Lisa. ‘If this outlandish charge of yours is true, wouldn’t that, in fact, give you even more reason to want to kill him? I mean, what parent wouldn’t be outraged? Was that what made you so angry that you knocked him out and then turned on the gas, causing the explosion which resulted in his death? After, that is, you made sure to take his paycheck and forged his signature.’

Lisa sat up straight in the box, silent and aggrieved. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I didn’t kill him. It’s not up to me to rid the world of sexual perverts. I just had to protect my daughter from this one pedophile.’

The D.A. was red in the face. ‘Tell the truth, Ms Wickes. Isn’t this just a desperate effort on your part to smear an innocent man who cannot defend himself?’

‘It’s the truth, whether you like it or not.’

Castor looked disgusted. ‘I have no further questions of this witness,’ he said in a sarcastic tone.

As soon as Lisa was excused, Marjorie called a man named Carl Halloran to the stand.

Carl Halloran, fit-looking, middle-aged and wearing a polo shirt, took the oath and sat down.

‘Mr Halloran,’ said Marjorie, ‘could you tell us what you do for a living, please?’

‘Yes, ma’am. I own the Sunflower Acres sleepaway camp out on Rider Lake.’

‘Tell us a little bit about your camp.’

‘Well, it’s a charitable organization. Fully funded by contributions. I founded it when my wife and I lost our . . . our son, Gregory, when he was seven years old.’ The courtroom fell silent as the witness, who looked stricken for a moment, composed

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