Marie-Louise Leverkuhn took a sip of water from the glass on the table in front of her. Cleared her throat and straightened her back. ‘I got home at about two o’clock,’ she said. ‘There had been a power cut on the railway line to Bossingen and Löhr. We were at a standstill for an hour. I’d been to visit a friend.’ She looked up at the public gallery, as if she were looking for a face. The prosecutor made no attempt to hurry her, and after a while she continued of her own accord. ‘My husband woke up as I came through the door into the bedroom, and started making abusive remarks.’ ‘Abusive remarks?’ wondered the prosecutor. ‘Because I’d woken him up. He claimed I’d done it on purpose. Then he went on and on.’ ‘How did he go on?’ ‘He said he’d won some money, and that he was going to spend it so that he didn’t have to see me so often.’ ‘Did he usually say things like that?’ ‘It happened.
