“After you left the library the second time that night, unseen by anyone, including the desk attendant, you claim to have gone back to Lucy Goodfellow’s house.”

“Correct.”

“But no one saw you there. And you said you were drinking, drinking and driving, actually. Is that correct?”

“I had been drinking, but I was not that intoxicated.” Raleigh grimaced as he realized how bad that sounded out loud.

“Not too drunk to remember the exact time or how long you were curbside at Miss Goodfellow’s apartment building?”

“No.”

“I see, good memory then,” Blackburn deadpanned. Stop hamming it up, Anne cautioned, but the looks of disbelief around the courtroom showed her that it was working.

“And then did you call your wife?”

“Yes, just after eleven.”

“Right, at eleven twenty-four. To lie about the time, and lie about where you had been that night.” Blackburn ventured back out from behind the lectern. “And so a lot about your alibi for your whereabouts was false that night, correct, Dr. Raleigh?”

Raleigh nodded. “I was lying to my wife about Lucy, yes.”

“Dr. Raleigh, if you lied about that alibi then, why are we supposed to believe this alibi now?”

“Objection, uh . . .” Whiteside had nothing but exasperation.

“Sustained,” Judge Sam said quietly. He let the point score. “Mr. Blackburn, move along.”

Blackburn pivoted. “How often did you have sex with Miss Goodfellow?”

A yelp of shock came from the gallery. The mistress is a red herring, Anne thought. Locate him at the crime scene. Judge Sam gaveled for silence. Not nearly long enough for Raleigh, who was still caught off guard.

Whiteside shot up. “Your Honor . . .”

Blackburn talked over the objection. “Let me be more specific. The week prior to the attack, the week of Easter, the holiest week of the Christian calendar, how many times did you have sex with Miss Goodfellow?”

“Objection . . .”

“Overruled. The witness will answer.”

“Twice.”

“What was that, Reverend?” Blackburn cupped his ear. Again, too much, Anne thought. Blackburn had heard the reverend.

“Twice that week.”

“You said that you were living a lie.”

“Yes, I did.”

“So how do we know when you’re telling the truth?”

“Objection, Your Honor, the witness is under oath.”

Blackburn pressed on. “Did you type the letters, the threats to your family?”

Now, that’s a better line.

“No I did not.”

“Now, can you describe to me the scene when you came home that night to Credo Drive?”

“Starting when?” Raleigh asked, irritated. Blackburn’s pinballing is wearing him down.

“As you are coming up the driveway to your home, please.”

“I put the car in park and opened the door. I saw half of Peggy’s body in front, sticking out. So I jumped out of the car, and ran to her,” he said haltingly. “And her face was red and purple and swollen. She was gurgling, there was something—foam, spit—coming out of the side of her mouth.”