“Ah,” Zack said with a Cheshire smile. “Finally, we’ve arrived at the crux of the matter. You were drunk. Were you so drunk, you couldn’t navigate the distance between your house and Ms. Morrissey’s? Officer Gerein paced off the path between where you were standing on your little ladder and the spot where Ms. Morrissey was enjoying her wine. He testified it was less than ten metres. That’s not much of a walk. It was still early – 4:30 in the afternoon. How many drinks had you had?”
“I don’t know,” Howard said. “It had been a difficult time.”
“You mean the time since you became aware of what Ms. Morrissey had written about Charlie in your book.”
“Yes.”
“The fact that you’d played the role of Deep Throat for her must have made the situation even more depressing.” Zack wheeled closer to the witness box. “And you were already depressed, weren’t you? You were using the prescription drug Paxil?”
“Yes.”
“And …” Zack looked at his notes. “Your drug regimen also includes prescriptions for high blood pressure, high cholesterol, and something else …” Zack squeezed his eyes shut in concentration. “Chronic back pain – Charlie said you were also being treated for chronic back pain.”
Garth Severight rose to protest Charlie’s information as hearsay, and Mr. Justice Harney upheld his objection. It didn’t matter. The knockout punch had been delivered. Howard knew that his son had revealed everything to the defence. Bruised, battered, and desperate, Howard was a fighter on the ropes, but Zack kept pummelling. “That’s quite the chemical stew, Mr. Dowhanuik. I’m certain your doctor didn’t suggest that you add alcohol to the mix.”
“No, my doctor told me not to drink.”
“And still you drank.”
“I did.”
“How many drinks have you had today, Mr. Dowhanuik?”
“I don’t know.”
“More than three?”
“Yes.”
“Five? Six?”
“I don’t measure.”
“Do you have a flask of liquor with you right now?”
“Yes.”
“And you’ve taken all your medications?”
“Yes.” Zack turned his chair so that his back was to Howard. “We’ve been pretty close to each other for the past twenty minutes. Do I wear eyeglasses?”
“I didn’t notice.”
Zack turned, faced Howard, and adjusted the black wire-framed glasses he’d worn throughout the cross- examination. “Let’s try again, Mr. Dowhanuik. What colour was the dress Ms. Morrissey was wearing on May 16?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Blue. Ms. Morrissey was wearing a blue dress. Attention to detail doesn’t seem to be your strong suit, Mr. Dowhanuik. But we’ll persevere. On the afternoon of the incident, was Ms. Morrissey sitting or standing.”
“Sitting at a kind of little table.”
“Was she reading or staring off into space, or what?”
“I think she was reading.”
“Just to let you know, there was no reading material found at the scene, Mr. Dowhanuik, so wrong again.” Zack glanced over at Garth Severight. “Usually, the Crown does a better job of coaching its witnesses.”
Severight popped out of his chair. “I object.”
“Sustained,” Arthur Harney barked. “Cheap shot, Mr. Shreve.”
“I apologize, m’Lord. So, Mr. Dowhanuik, Ms. Morrissey was sitting at her little table. Then, according to your version of events, my client entered her yard through the side gate and said what?”
“I don’t remember his exact words.”
“You remembered them an hour ago.”
Howard pinched the bridge of his nose and stared at his knees.
Zack was unrelenting. “Do we need ask the court clerk to read you the words that you swore were true an hour ago. I’m confused, Mr. Dowhanuik. An hour ago, you swore under oath that you remembered exactly what my client said to Ms. Morrissey. Word for word. And now you don’t remember. Could you give us a paraphrase?”
“I don’t think so.”
“But you
