This struck Anne as very rehearsed. Too matter-of-fact. Too helpful in his own defense.

“So how long were you outside Miss Goodfellow’s house?”

“I’d say twenty minutes.”

Convenient amount of time. The kids were asleep. I bet he was on Credo Drive.

“And did you knock on the door or try to call her?”

“No.”

“Were you drinking?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And then what?”

“Well, I called home. From the car phone.”

Whiteside made a quarter turn to the jury. “We have heard that message for Peggy. In it, you claim it’s about nine thirty or nine forty-five, correct?”

“Yes.”

“But that wasn’t the time, was it?”

“No, it was later.”

“About two hours later?”

“Yes, I was lying to Peggy about the time”—he paused—“because I was creating an alibi to cover my attempt to see Lucy. I assumed my wife was asleep and she would hear these messages in the morning.”

His carefully worded answers, Anne felt certain, all of his practiced testimony, was backfilled from what happened.

“Would that be true for the second message you left?”

“Yes, my guilty feelings made me give Peggy more information than she needed.”

He’s good, he believes his own bullshit.

“So, Reverend Raleigh, those guilty feelings you talk about. Would you say those feelings are overwhelming at times?”

“They are.”

Whiteside shifted his weight. “And in the days and weeks after Peggy was attacked, did the guilt of having cheated on her and not being home at the time overwhelm you?”

“It did.”

“When the police first came to you to talk about Peggy’s attack, did you tell them about your relationship with Lucy Goodfellow?”

“No, I hid it. I lied.”

“But then it became obvious that this trial was going to reveal your affair, correct?”

“It did, and that was so upsetting to me I tried to take my own life.”

Raleigh looked up at the ceiling and blinked, then pulled at his tie like it was a noose. He was breaking, but Anne couldn’t tell why exactly. Seems more embarrassed than upset about his wife’s near death.

“Reverend Raleigh, you wrote a suicide note before that attempt. Is that right?”

“Yes, that was my moment of absolute and total despair.”

The clerk produced a copy of the note and handed it to the bailiff, who walked it over to Raleigh.

“Can you explain this letter, Reverend Raleigh, particularly the part about the demon?”

“When I say this about the demon, I was talking about an inner restlessness that has been with me all my life. I didn’t just have lust, I was unfaithful to Peggy.”

Raleigh had tears rolling down his cheeks. Anne felt the tears were genuine, but not for Peggy. They’re for Standing Raleigh. He turned the note into a sermon, and the devil can cite scripture for his own purpose.