"Jack the Knife.' That's what the media started calling him. The Six-Shooter Killer.' As unforgiving, deadly, and cold as a blade. And how cold. How cold a man would have to be, to do something like this to a fellow human being. How cold... to do it to his own wife."
It's twelve years in the past, and the district attorney's voice has the measured and practiced tone of a stage actor. He turns from the jury. He presses a button. A picture appears onscreen. The air in the courtroom grows thinner, sucked down by a collective inhale of shock and disgust.
Another push of the button, and the image is replaced by a new one. Disgust turns into despair. The DA keeps quiet, letting the pictures do the talking.
I try not to look. Even after seeing those pictures a hundred times, having hard-copy
