Yes, your husband did show remarkable
foresight in taking those pictures.

And,

yes,

absent a swimming pool,

the presence of a pool man 
would appear to be suspicious.

But, madam,

who is the real victim here?

Let me suggest to you the following.

Your husband, who on a prior
occasion had slapped you,

beat you. l think that word
is not inappropriate.

- No, l...
- Let me finish, please.

l'm not concerned with
who slapped whom first.

Your husband, who had
beaten you repeatedly...

- No, he never...
- Please.

Repeatedly, was at the time,
brandishing your firearm.

- lt was his gun.
- And we'll get it back for you.

Trying, in his rage, to shoot
an acquaintance,

a friend of long standing.

They never really cared
for each other.

And if not for your
cool-headed intervention,

his tantrum might have ended
this schmo's life and ruined his own.

As for the sexual indiscretion
which he imagined took place,

wasn't it, in fact, he...

who was sleeping with the pool man?

No?

Am l going too far here?
Were his sexual... No.

- l don't...
- Sorry. l'm not omniscient.

The point is that he acted upon
an assumption which he cannot prove,

and, l take it, you deny.

- Well...
- Fine. l'll take the case.

lt's imperative that l meet with Oliver
Olerud before we proceed any further,

so that l can massage the kinks 
out of our testimony.

Do you really think
we could put all this across?

The truth is so self-evident to me,
Mrs. Donaly,

that l'm sure that l'll be able to make it
equally as transparent to any jury,

should your husband decide
to take it that far.

We'll need to caucus again to draw up
a picture of your husband's net worth.

A map of enemy territory, so to speak.

You said that he's
a television producer?

He has a soap opera, The Sands of Time.

lt's a silly show.

Well, it'll be yours soon.
Thank you very much.

-Oh, thank you, Mr. Massey.
-Yes. Bye-bye.

Still you have to admire him
for taking those pictures.