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“So no one can corroborate your whereabouts at that time?”
“No!” snapped Randolph.
“So you could have been at your parents’ home that day?”
“I wasn’t.”
“Are you ill, Mr. Randolph?” Jack asked.
“That is none of your business!”
Jack said, “Ordinarily it wouldn’t be, but under the circumstances, I’m afraid it is.” Before Ambrose could say anything, Jack said, “Goes to motive, state of mind, and an alternate theory of who committed the murders, Your Honor, all to demonstrate reasonable doubt.”
Ambrose sat back, looking irritated. “Go on and answer the question, sir.”
“Yes, I am sick,” said Randolph.
“And you’re seeking treatment outside of the country?”
Randolph shot him an angry look. “How the hell did you—”
“Just answer the question, please,” Jack prompted.
“Yes. Switzerland.”
“Well, I hope you’re successful, Mr. Randolph.”
“Sure you do,” Randolph said snidely. “But I did not kill my parents.”
“Move to strike the witness’s last statement,” Jack said automatically.
Ambrose turned to the jury and said offhandedly, “You are to ignore the witness’s last statement as though it had not been said.”
Jack knew this was really impossible, but he garnered immense satisfaction in forcing Ambrose to have to say it. “Now, you had a psychiatrist visit your parents,” he said to Randolph. “Can you tell us why?”
Randolph nearly came out of his seat. He looked over Jack’s shoulder.
When Jack turned around he saw Christine once more staring intently at her brother. Jack turned back to him. “Mr. Randolph?”
“I-it’s true that I retained a doctor to examine my... parents. There’s nothing illegal about that,” he added quickly.
“For what purpose did you want them examined?”
Randolph kneaded his fists into his thighs.
“I thought they were both losing their minds.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Just little things.”
“But you didn’t see that much of them, did you?”
“I saw enough,” countered Randolph.
“Isn’t it a fact that you wanted to have them declared incompetent so that you could get your hands on your inheritance sooner rather than later?”
“Objection, leading question,” barked Battle.
