Free Love, Lies, and Murder by Gary C. King Page A

mind.”
    “Okay. And you want to, in your testimony, keep time general. Is that correct?”
    “No, I want it to be truthful. And I want to tell you that I do not have specific testimony about specific times. And it would be untruthful to do that.”
    “So no time during the evening of August fifteenth did you look at the clock, or do you have any reliable time estimates? Is that correct?”
    “That’s not correct.”
    “What’s incorrect about that?”
    Perry explained that he had a “reliable feel” regarding the time that Janet had left the house the evening she disappeared because he could remember that he had called his brother shortly after she had left. That had been sometime around the “nine-ish hour,” he said. Perry’s telephone records, according to the police, had shown that he had called his brother in Wilmette, Illinois, at 9:11 P.M. Even though Perry’s time estimate of when he had called his brother was reasonable based on the telephone records, Jones kept hammering away at him about being more specific regarding time that evening. He wanted to know whether Perry looked at his watch that evening; whether he watched television; and if he had watched television, which shows had he watched. When Perry said that he didn’t recollect, Jones asked him if he had changed clothes anytime that evening.
    “I have no recollection of that,” Perry responded. “I’m sure I changed into my sleeping clothes.”
    “When you came home wearing a coat and tie—”
    “Oh, I certainly changed out of my suit. I would never have taken care of the kids and given them baths that evening—in my suit.”
    “What did you change into?”
    “No idea. That was the middle of summer. I don’t know what I put on.”
    “Did you ever hit Janet?” The question seemed to have come out of nowhere, and took Perry somewhat by surprise, even though he knew that such a question would eventually be posed to him.
    “No. I never struck Janet,” Perry responded.
    “With a fist or open hand, you never struck Janet at any time in your life. Is that your testimony?”
    “Mr. Jones, to the best of my recollection, I have never struck my wife. It has always been something that I am proud of. I have never struck my wife.”
    “You said that to the best of your recollection you had never struck her. That’s not something that you could possibly forget, is it?”
    “Mr. Jones, I don’t believe I ever struck my wife.”
    “Do you know that?”
    “As I sit here today, I tell you that my testimony is that I do not believe I ever struck my wife.”
    “I didn’t ask you if you believed it. I asked you if you did. Do you know that you never struck her?”
    “Yes, I think I believe I do know I never struck her.”
    “Did you ever choke her?”
    “No.”
    “Did you ever physically hurt her or attempt to physically hurt Janet?”
    “I’m just—I’m thinking because I’m just trying to separate—I can’t—I don’t know, but there is certainly a possibility that at times I grabbed Janet’s arm and moved her out of the way or I took something from her, which she was holding back from me, or where I, you know, held her harm—arm in a firm manner, which might be construed by some to be twisting. But certainly never with the intent of inflicting bodily harm on my wife.”
    “Did you ever pull her hair?”
    “Not to my recollection.”
    “Is that something you have any question about?”
    “Does that mean did I pull her hair in lovemaking?”
    “Did you normally pull her hair in lovemaking?”
    “No. What does that mean, ‘pull her hair’? Does that mean if I’m sitting on a chair and her hair is underneath my arm and she sits up and her hair is pulled, did I pull her hair? No, the answer is I never intentionally grabbed my wife’s head, pulled her hair with the intent of inflicting bodily harm on her.”
    “Did Janet ever complain that during sexual relationships you would choke her or pull her hair?”
    “Not to