This fuckin’ guy, thinks Bradwin. Fuckin’ Lester man. You are the shit.
Sure, yes, he killed his wife. Anyone with half a brain can see that. But it sounds like she had it coming.
The prosecution calls Bingham’s (former) sister-in-law, and she talks about the dead woman, all tears and these screeching, terrible sobs. The way she’s talking makes Bradwin think of an ex-girlfriend, this bloodsucking cow he hasn’t thought of in years, and in his head, Diana Bingham-Jones has this old lover’s face and Bradwin hates her a little.
And he thinks, You go, Lester. You fucking rock this.