The Wife Before Me(61)

Rosemary had practised as a defence lawyer early in her career before retraining as a specialist in contract law. Her arrival at the police station proves that she has lost none of her assertiveness in the intervening years.

Elena is released on bail, the conditions clearly outlined to her. She must reside at Rosemary’s address and not leave that jurisdiction until her next appearance in court. Nor is she allowed to trespass near Woodbine or Nicholas’s parents’ house, where her children will live for the foreseeable future. Elena knows she is lucky to be freed on bail. It is Rosemary’s tenacity that has made it possible and this fact penetrates the numbness that has possessed her since she confronted Nicholas in the ice house. In the office of the small law firm that Rosemary opened after she was forced to resign from KHM, she silences Elena’s tearful gratitude. She has appointed a barrister, a close friend from her student days, to represent Elena in court at her arraignment. The judge has demanded reports on her psychiatric and psychological state of mind before then.

Appointments are made. The experts nod sagely as they burrow into Elena’s mind to try to understand why she would attempt to kill the father of her children. Was she suffering from post-partum depression? An inability to manage two babies? Depression after her mother’s death? Labouring under the belief that Nicholas stole her inheritance? Scribble, scribble – they remain impassive as Elena struggles to prove she is not a vindictive and neurotic would-be killer. The evidence proves otherwise. After all, she did attack the man she had loved in happier times with an ice pick. They focus on her obsessive jealousy of his dead wife when Nicholas was struggling to move on from that tragic history. What are they to make of that?

Once again, Amelia Madison has become a headline. Husband of Tragic Drowning Victim Stabbed. Pictures of Mason’s Pier have been plucked from the archives and shown on the news. So, too, are the replays of Nicholas leaving the church after the memorial service. Yvonne, supporting him, is dabbing her watery eyes with a handkerchief. Then, as now, she is offering him her unconditional love.

Maurice Turnbury, Elena’s barrister, is a soft-spoken, colourless man with rimless glasses and sparse grey hair. His desk appears to be too large for him, but when he stands to greet her he projects an air of authority that reassures her.

‘He looks harmless but don’t be fooled by his appearance,’ Rosemary warned her on the way to their meeting with him. ‘He uses it to disarm the opposition. In court he’s a viper and that’s what you need in your corner.’

Physical and mental abuse is difficult to prove without evidence. Maurice comes straight to the point. Is there anything Elena can say to convince him that Nicholas Madison is capable of violence?

‘I found a letter in the ice house,’ she says. ‘I think it was written―’

‘You think?’ Maurice’s question is sharp. His reptile gaze demands more than conjecture on her part.

‘I believe it was written to Amelia. The sender warned her that her life was in danger.’

‘The name of her friend?’

‘It was just one page. There was no name on it.’

‘Where is this letter now?’

‘Nicholas tore it up. That’s when I…’ Elena hesitates, then decides she has to name it. ‘When I stabbed him.’

‘Did you mention this letter to the gardai?’

‘Yes.’

‘What was their reaction?’

‘The same as yours.’

‘Are you surprised?’

Dully, she shakes her head.

‘You failed to convince the gardai that you were a victim of domestic abuse and now you want to add another layer to your defence by bringing his dead wife into the equation.’

‘Nicholas doesn’t leave signs behind him.’ Rosemary interrupts the barrister’s questioning. ‘I know that to my cost.’

‘I believe you’re telling me the truth.’ Maurice ignores her comment but smiles at Elena for the first time since she entered his office. ‘But that’s only because Rosemary wouldn’t waste my time with a dud. However, a jury won’t know that. Nor will the judge. Post-partum depression, that’s our best line of defence.’

‘I wasn’t depressed.’

‘How can you say that when you’ve told me you were being physically and mentally abused by your partner? It’s the view of your psychiatric team that you display the classic symptoms. Low self-esteem and lack of confidence, an inability to cope, irritability, exhaustion.’

‘My baby is not responsible for that.’

‘I’m quoting from your medical notes. If we can prove that you were of unsound mind―’

‘Unsound mind?’

‘Temporarily.’

‘I was distraught, frightened for my life. That’s not insanity.’

‘I never said you were insane, Elena. I’m just explaining what I consider to be the best course of action. You haven’t been able to produce any evidence that you were acting in self-defence. If you plead not guilty, you’ll be charged with grievous bodily harm. A guilty plea will do away with a trial and post-partum depression can be offered as a viable legal defence. You’ll receive the necessary psychiatric treatment while you await your court appearance―’

‘An asylum, that’s what you’re suggesting? Where’s the justice in that?’