“Sit down and shut up, Mr. Hatcher, or I will hold you in contempt.”
The lawyer looks stricken. “On what grounds?” He quickly backpedals, “Your Honor.”
Judge Gellar circles her gavel threateningly. “On the grounds that interruptions annoy me. Let the witness finish her testimony.”
I press my palms against the chair seat and steady my voice. “At the time, Mr. Reker believed his wife had been cloned by a government entity as a means to spy on him. He believed that by torching the clone, he’d destroy this entity’s ability to control him.”
Alister walks around the table and places a hand on his client’s shoulder. “So you do not believe—in your professional opinion—that Mr. Reker intended to murder his wife of twenty-four years.”
“No, I do not,” I say, bolstering my voice an octave higher. “Mr. Reker was unable to distinguish reality from his delusion. His intent was to destroy a clone of his wife, not his wife. He felt threatened amid his delusional state.”
“Thank you, Dr. Noble. No more questions.”
A sinking feeling tugs at the back of my mind, but I suppress that weakness. A brutal murder occurred, but the man sitting across from me at the defendant’s table—now medicated under my care—is no longer capable of the brutality he exhibited when he violently killed his wife. His eyes reflect remorse.
“Would you like to cross examine the witness, Mr. Hatcher?” the judge asks.
“Yes. Thank you, Your Honor.” As the lawyer stands from behind the prosecution’s table, I straighten my back.
This position threads every muscle along my spine with white-hot pain. I part my mouth and inhale a breath, then expel the ache, visualizing the pain as a physical thing I can eject from my body.
Hatcher strides to the computer on the roll cart and adjusts the image. We’re given a close-up of Margot Reker’s mutilation. Members of the jury physically react, some averting their eyes.
“Dr. Noble,” he begins with a vain toss of his head. I arch an eyebrow. “Since your expert opinion is so widely sought after, would you expound on why you believe Charles Reker sliced his wife up with a butcher knife after he set her on fire.”
“Objection,” the defense interjects. “Is there a question here, Your Honor? The witness has already provided testimony to her thoughts on the defendant’s state of mind.”
The judge looks at Hatcherexpectantly.
“Dr. Noble provided a speculated reasoning as to the murder, but not the mutilation, Your Honor?—”
“Careful, counselor,” the judge warns.
Hatcher offers a tight smile. “According to Dr. Noble, the defendant killed his wife to eliminate the threat of government conspiracy,” he revises, “I only aim to uncover why, then, the need for overkill.”
Judge Gellar considers this, then nods. “You may proceed, Mr. Hatcher.”
He again focuses his piercing eyes on me. “Do I need to repeat myself?”
Back pain can hit hard enough to bring the strongest person to their knees. Me?—I get temperamental when in the middle of a flare-up. “I was able to follow, thank you. What you see on the screen does appear to look like overkill. What can be interpreted as a crime of passion.”
“Exactly,” the lawyer says. “A crime of passion.” He turns and states this to the jury.
“However,” I continue, undeterred. “I carefully analyzed Mr. Reker for over a month before I was able to clearly decipher that it wasn’t overkill. He was looking for proof.”
Hatcher tilts his head. “What do you mean by proof?”
I adjust my position. “He was searching for the computer chip that transmitted his information to the government entity. During his…search, he was apprehended by the police.”
“His search?” Disdain laces his voice as he props a hand on his hip and marches to the screen. Hatcher has apparently studied too many courtroom movies. “You’re telling me that this—” he points to the charred, flayed flesh of the victim “—was also a part of his delusion? That Charles Reker sliced and stabbed his wife more than thirty times all for a chip?”
“Yes,” I say simply.
“Dr. Noble, I’m sorry, but to me, and likely everyone else inthe courtroom, this looks like the violent, destructive crime of an enraged man. A man furious with his cheating wife.” He nods to the jury. “As we proved beforehand.”
“Objection,” the defense says. “Counsel is testifying, Your Honor.”
“Sustained. Ask a question, Mr. Hatcher, or wrap it up.”
