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Keith’s voice became sympathetic. “You’re a good friend, Joe. Too bad Victor doesn’t appreciate you. I think you’ve been trying to keep Victor away from Annabelle for a long time. Am I right?”
Joe sighed. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because he was in love and she wasn’t. Because she used him as a plaything for her own amusement, and I didn’t see how any good could come of the whole affair.”
“So, you argued with Victor when he said he was going to Annabelle’s apartment on the night before she died because you were afraid for him. Correct?”
“Yes.”
Keith sighed. “One last question. If you knew that Victor and Annabelle were having a sexual relationship, why did you become so angry on this particular night?”
Joe looked up at the ceiling as he answered in a dry monotone. “Victor told me a few weeks before the murder that Annabelle had grown bored with the whole thing and wouldn’t see him anymore. I believed him until one of our friends saw him coming out of Victoria’s Secret on Madison Avenue with a bunch of packages. I asked him about it and he stuck to his story but I knew he was lying. That night when she called and he told me they were meeting at her apartment, I was shocked. I mean, screwing a man’s wife in a hotel is one thing but it is stupid to meet in a married man’s home and I told him so. Victor told me to mind my own business and things got heated.”
“Did you and Victor talk about what happened that night at Annabelle’s apartment?”
“No. Even after she got killed, we never talked about her again.”
“Thanks. I have no further questions.”
My mind was reeling. What did all this mean, and why was Keith preening and smirking at me like the case was over?
The next morning, I gasped when Ruth Champ stood up and said, “The state calls Victor Bell.” The story of my obsession was about to unfold.
My hands started to shake and I had to lean on Keith’s shoulder to keep from fainting. After Victor was sworn in, Champ began her questioning.
“Mr. Bell, what do you do for a living?”
“I’m a sales representative for Bingham & Stone Publishers.”
“Will you please tell the court what your duties are?”
“Basically, I’m one of a team of people who travel to bookstores across the country and try to get the stores to order as many of Bingham’s titles as possible.”
“Do you know Jacqueline Blue?”
“Of course.”
“Are you friends?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes, I consider Jackie a friend.”
Champ shouted, “You’re a very kind man, Mr. Bell. It takes a man with a very good heart to tolerate what you’ve had to put up with over the past year and still call the woman a friend.”
Keith leapt to his feet so fast, my head almost dropped to the bench. “Objection, your honor!”
The judge frowned. “Objection sustained. The jury will disregard Ms. Champ’s last remarks.”
Champ apologized.
“Do you have a line of questioning for this witness or not, Ms. Champ?”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
“Then ask your questions.”
Champ turned back to Victor.
