Lipstick Page #5

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of the late hour

and Mr. Stuart's

comprehensive testimony,

I request permission

to start my cross-examination

in the morning.

( bangs gavel )

JUDGE:

Court is adjourned until 10:00 tomorrow morning.

( bangs gavel )

( phone rings )

( ring )

Hello?

( dissonant electronic

instrumental plays )

( dissonant electronic

instrumental plays )

Showing you People's

One, Two, and Three.

Do you recognize this

place, Mr. Stuart?

It's her bedroom.

Chris McCormick's

bedroom?

Yes.

A mess, isn't it?

These pictures

on the floor.

Tell me, how did

they get smashed?

You happen

to remember?

Um, no, it was...

There was a lot

going on.

Yes, of course.

But I was just

wondering what part

of Chris McCormick's

sexual perversion

is satisfied by

the smashing

of family

photographs?

I wouldn't know.

But you did

smash them. No.

Well, I must have

misunderstood.

I thought all the

acts of violence--

sheets ripped, smeared

with lipstick and blood,

mirrors smashed--

weren't they

all done by you

for Chris McCormick?

No, no.

Well, I was sure

that's what you testified.

Shall I have it read back?

I did do all that.

For her.

I just don't remember

smashing the priest's picture.

Who's picture?

A priest?

I can't make out any priest.

Her brother's a priest.

How do you know that?

She told me.

Why?

I don't know. Ask her.

Did you ask about him?

No.

Then, uh, how did

he get brought up?

I don't remember.

And you don't

remember

how his pictures

got smashed.

No.

Now, about the music.

How you doing?

Pardon?

With the music--

how far along are you?

No, you don't understand.

I-I just teach music.

Oh, I see. So, you are

not a composer,

and you are not a player.

No. Uh, yes. I do some

composing for myself.

Well, perhaps that's why

you wanted Chris McCormick

to hear your tape.

Why?

Well, she might be in

a position to help you.

I didn't...

I didn't think about that.

Well, think about it now.

CARTRIGHT:

Objection, Your Honor.

JUDGE:

No, I'm going to allow it.

Well, uh...

I suppose she could get my stuff

to the right people.

Ah, so you haven't quite

given up, have you?

I guess not.

You took this

to Chris McCormick's

apartment that afternoon.

Yes, ma'am.

To play this tape.

Right.

And this tape you made?

I did.

I can't quite make out

what you've written

here on the side.

Can you make that out?

I know the tape.

What's it called?

You did name it,

didn't you?

I mean, after all

it is your, um,

your fabrication.

Filios Irae.

Latin, isn't it?

Yes.

What does it mean,

Mr. Stuart?

"Fury's Child."

I beg your pardon?

"Fury's Child."

"Fury's Child."

That's an

interesting title.

Is it from something,

a poem?

It's from me.

If it please the court,

I would like to play

some of Mr. Stuart's music

for the jury.

Do you have any objections,

Mr. Cartright?

I'm a great admirer

of the defendant's composition,

Your Honor, but is it relevant?

Very relevant, Your Honor,

and it's all set up.

You may proceed.

The machine is a little small,

so I've made arrangements

to have it plugged into

another speaker or two

for all of us to hear.

What setting do you suggest,

Mr. Stuart? Six decibels?

It was done

for eight.

Eight.

( dissonant electronic

music playing )

( dissonant music continuing )

So this is the music

that you played

for Chris McCormick

on that afternoon?

Yes.

What were you doing

while it played?

Listening.

What do you think?

Was she listening, too?

Yes.

All the time?

Until the phone rang.

( music stops )

( audience murmuring )

( gavel rapping )

Who was it?

It wasn't for me.

Some man.

A business call?

I don't know what he is to her.

How did you feel

when the phone rang

in the middle

of your serenade?

Nothing.

What did she do?

She... she went into

the bedroom with him.

With the phone, you mean.

No. Yes.

She took the phone

into the bedroom.

Couldn't she have asked him

to call back if she was busy?

Maybe she had

to talk to him.

Maybe she was glad

the call came.

Is that possible?

That's her business.

Get her off the hook

and away from the noise.

You don't know

what you're talking about.

How did you feel,

Mr. Stuart?

Who cares?

Hell, noise.

The music's good.

If she doesn't want to listen,

it's her damn loss.

Yes, it is,

but I asked you

how you felt.

Weren't you furious

that she ran out on you?

CARTRIGHT:

Objection, Your Honor. No.

JUDGE:

Overruled.

Isn't that why

you punished her,

because you knew

she wasn't interested in you or your music?

No, no!

Because she'd rather

talk to somebody else

and be with somebody else

than this music of yours?!

Listen!

That's all, Mr. Stuart.

You can play my music all day

and all night,

and it won't make me into a man

who will rape anybody!

I have no further

questions, Your Honor.

And it won't convict me of rape!

JUDGE:

You may step down, Mr. Stuart.

Uh, I don't know

the rules here, Your Honor.

Who do I tell--

If it please the court...

Mr. Stuart.

It happened the way I said.

Tell them!

Your Honor!

The prosecution provoked

this outburst, Your Honor,

by harassing the defendant!

Why? Why, Chrissy, why?

Why did you do it?

JUDGE:

Mr. Stuart, will you restrain yourself?

( banging gavel )

Why?

Bailiff!

It could've been s...

( gavel bangs )

If it please the court,

the defense wishes to recall

a single prosecution witness

for further cross-examination.

Which witness,

Mr. Cartright?

Miss McCormick, Your Honor.

Miss Kathy McCormick.

JUDGE:

Has the prosecution any objection?

Uh, none, Your Honor,

except it is unfortunate

to subject a young person

to needlessly painful,

sometimes pointless questioning.

I can assure you, Mrs. Bondi,

no pointless questions.

You're still

under oath, Kathy.

Yes, sir.

You had your own key

to the apartment, did you?

Yes.

So that afternoon

you let yourself in.

Yes.

Now,

please tell us again

what you saw and heard

the moment you closed

the door behind you.

Nothing.

It was quiet.

It was quiet?

No sounds at all?

Some music...

coming from somewhere.

In the apartment?

I'm not sure.

Was it coming from

your sister's bedroom?

I couldn't tell.

What happened

next, Kathy?

I said, "I'm home."

You called out?

Yes, but not loud.

Why not?

Sometimes Chrissy takes a nap

in the afternoon.

CARTRIGHT:

I see. That's how quiet it was.

Now, when your sister

didn't answer you,

what did you do?

I went to look

into Chrissy's room.

Why?

( sighs )

You went toward

your sister's room.

Why?

KATHY:

I went out on the terrace...

I opened that door.

And I saw her.

Saw them.

And then I went

back to my room.

Did you close

your sister's door first,

before you went

back to your room?

Yes.

Why?

I just did.

Well, why

do you think?

I don't know. Privacy.

For your sister's privacy?

It was closed before,

so I just closed it again.

And then you telephoned the

police from your own bedroom.

No.

You didn't telephone the police?

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