The judge usually wore a seen-it-all expression. Now he looked like Brian had grown another head. "Really, Mr Davis. The accused doesn’t usually get two bites of the cherry. Why should I grant that indulgence?" "Because, your Honour, he wants to say where he really was on the night his wife was murdered." The judge frowned. "He’s already done that." "Yes, but he didn’t tell the truth." "Really?" "I’m afraid so." "Then where was he?" "He spent the night with his mistress." The judge's gaze rose and studied the delicate tracery in the decorative ceiling. He blew out his cheeks. "Really? And this mist … this woman is going to give evidence?" "Yes, your Honour. I intend to call her." The judge turned towards the prosecutor and asked if he opposed the application. Mahoney angrily protested that it was much too late for the accused to produce a new alibi. "We have not been given the required notification and, in any event, would need time to investigate it your Honour." "True, Mr Mahoney.
