These complete contradictions in my former valet's statements were naturally most favourable to me.
Indeed, it is not the least strange fact about that extraordinary trial, which was crowded with incidents, that the evidence given by most of the "witnesses for the Prosecution" was so obviously malicious and partial or clashed to such an extent with evidence previously given by these witnesses that it greatly told in my favour and proved my innocence, whilst, on the other hand, a number of so-called "witnesses for the defence" in their anxiety to serve me, went too far, and by their exaggerations, rather harmed than helped my cause!
As for Rémy Couillard, he had been five days in Prison because I had accused him and had placed a pearl in his pocket-book. I owed him a public apology, and I made it in all sincerity. "I know how I wronged you. You hate me, but I have suffered terribly. I repeat I regret what I did to you. Forgive me." My former valet turned to me and replied: "It's all right, Madame, I have nothing against you."...
After the written evidence of M. Lecoq had been read—for this engineer who had first heard Couillard's calls for help, was then travelling in America—there walked to the witnesses' bar, M. Albert Bonnot, a painter of nearly sixty, who in 1880 had married one of M. Steinheil's sisters. His studio was only separated from our garden by a small wall.
M. Bonnot explained that at one time his wife and he had been on affectionate terms with me, until some ten years before, when they severed their relations, but he remained the friend and collaborator of his brother-in-law. He then went on to state that "M. Steinheil, a few months before the crime, was profoundly depressed," and added that "when her husband was ill, Mme. Steinheil never looked after him but went away, anywhere, for three or four months at a time."
This was more than I could stand and, jumping up, under the sting of this false accusation obviously uttered to ruin me in the eyes of the jury, I exclaimed vehemently: "When my husband was ill, Monsieur, I nursed him with a devotion to which doctors and others will no doubt pay a tribute in this court, when the time comes."
M. Bonnot continued: "I saw my poor brother-in-law kneeling and his head hanging back. He was cold and stiff.... His clothes were neatly folded on a chair. Everything was in perfect order. There was no blood and no traces of steps.... I also saw the body of Mme. Japy. Then I left the place."
The President. "You saw those two corpses and left without going to Mme. Steinheil?"
M. Bonnot. "I disliked her."
M. Bonnot forgot to say to the Judge that on that very day (May 31st, 1908), he had angrily exclaimed, in the veranda before a number of witnesses—who all repeated it to me: "There's no mistake about it; that wretched woman upstairs did the deed!" M. Buisson, M. Boeswilwald and several other persons who heard this shameful remark were so disgusted, that, losing their temper, they threatened to throw M. Bonnot bodily out of the house.