Trial of Passion
Copyright © William Deverell 2002
Published by
ECW PRESS
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any process â electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise â without the prior written permission of the copyright owners and
ECW PRESS.
NATIONAL LIBRARY OF CANADA CATALOGUING IN PUBLICATION DATA
Deverell, William, 1937â
Trial of Passion / William Deverell
ISBN 1-55022-542-1
I
. Title.
PS8557.E8775OT74 2002Â Â Â Â Â Â Â C813'.54Â Â Â Â Â Â C2002-903366-7
PR9199.3.D474T75Â Â Â 2002
Cover and Text Design: Tania Craan
Production and Typesetting: Mary Bowness
Printing: Transcontinental
This book is set in Bembo and Imago
The publication of
Trial of Passion
has been generously supported by the Canada Council, the Ontario Arts Council, and the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing Industry Development Program.
William Deverell
BOOKS BY WILLIAM DEVERELL
Fiction
Needles
High Crimes
Mecca
The Dance of Shiva
Platinum Blues
Mindfields
Street Legal: The Betrayal
Trial of Passion
Slander
Kill All the Lawyers
The Laughing Falcon
Non-Fiction
A Life on Trial: The Case of Robert Frisbee
May the countryside and the gliding valley streams content me.
Lost to fame, let me love river and woodland.
VIRGIL
Q | You are a retired minister? |
A | I was an Anglican bishop. |
Q | And how old are you? |
A | Seventy-nine. |
Q | Where do you live? |
THEÂ COURT: | Please sit down if you'd be more comfortable, Dr. Hawthorne. This is only a preliminary hearing, quite informal. (Witness sits.) |
A | At |
Q | Do you live there alone? |
A | I am a widower. I have a housekeeper â Mrs. Mary Mcintosh. |
Q | Okay, and your neighbour on your left, as you face the street, that would be |
A | Yes. |
Q | And do you know who lives there? |
A | Professor Jonathan O'Donnell. |
Q | He's acting dean of law at the University of British Columbia? |
A | Yes, I have known him for many years. |
Q | And do you see him in court? |
A | Sitting right there. |
Q | Identifying the accused, for the record. Now I want to take you back to the late-night hours of last Friday, November twenty-seventh. Were you at home on that evening? |
A | I retired at about nine p.m. I had fallen asleep in an armchair while reading and Mrs. McIntosh aroused me and sent me off to bed. |
Q | And did something later awake you? |
A | There was a great hullabaloo at the front door. I'm not sure what time it was, in the small hours at least. Mrs. Mcintosh has her room upstairs at the back, so I was first to the door. |
Q | And what transpired? |
A | It was a female voice, but the words were unintelligible. I opened the door and a young woman was standing there. |
Q | And did this woman subsequently identify herself? |
A | Ah, yes, her name is, ah ⦠Miss Kimberley Martin. |
Q | Now tell us what you observed. |
A | Well . . . |
THEÂ COURT: | Just what you saw, Dr. Hawthorne. In your own words. |
A | Well, she was, ah, somewhat in a state of nudity. |
Q | Somewhat. What do you mean? |
A | She was naked, except . . . she was wearing a tie. |
Q | Please describe it. |
A | It was very garish, brightly coloured. |
Q | But it was a man's tie? |
A | Oh, yes. I really wasn't focusing very well, but I |
Q | All right, where was she wearing this tie? |
A | Where? In the, ah, normal place. I mean, I know this wasn't a normal situation. Around her neck. Properly knotted. |
Q | Do you recognize this? |
A | It could be the one. |
Q | Exhibit One, your honour. Was she wearing anything else? |
A | Well, a gold necklace. Quite expensive, I thought. A large cross suspended from it. |
Q | Do you recognize this item? |
A | Yes, that looks like it. |
Q | Exhibit Two. How was she wearing this item? |
A | Right, um, between her breasts. It had somehow got wrapped around the tie. |
Q | What else did you notice about her appearance? |
A | She was covered with red, ah, streaks and daubs. Her lower body, and also her breasts. |
Q | Explain what you mean. |
A | Mrs. McIntosh later recognized it as lipstick. |
MR. CLEAVER: | Can we avoid the hearsay? |
Q | Describe these daubs. |
A | Well, red smears, mostly, right around her body, up her legs and thighs and pelvis to the middle of her abdomen. Where her skin wasn't smeared, there was a pattern, a jagged series of peaks and valleys â drawn as one might portray waves on a stormy ocean. And her breasts, ah, seemed to be coloured, too. With that same bright red, and her entire, ah, nipples. Excuse me. |
THEÂ COURT: | Can you get the witness a glass of water? |
Q | Okay, and what was this woman, Miss Martin, doing? |
A | Well, just standing there, shaking. It was cold. And she was yelling, “He's going to kill me. Help me.” I must say, I was quite frightened. |
Q | And what did you do? |
A | Well, Mrs. McIntosh had come down by then, and of course we brought her into the house, and we found a blanket to cover her, and we made some tea. |
My daughter stands sternly before me like a teacher confronting an errant child. Deborah is, in fact, a teacher â of those children we formerly called slow learners â and addresses me as such, patient and resolute.
“Father, please listen to me. You can't cook. You can't make a bed. And that old house â I don't think you've ever hammered a nail in your life. What is this, some kind of male menopause?”