How to Kill Your Wife

by James Hockings

  The district attorney was waiting for Elaine with all the glee of a spider waiting for a fly - a fly with big tits. He was going to eat her alive in court. He was a man who loved to dominate. He found dominating women especially satisfying. Slick Willie couldn’t wait to gloat over his airtight case and leer at Elaine’s chest. These were the motivating factors behind his punctuality, and not Elaine’s threat to leave if he kept her waiting.

  “Mr. Prosecutor, on behalf of Mr. Broviak, I want to thank you for seeing me today.”

  “My, my, how formal! Couldn’t we just be Bill and Elaine today?”

  “No thank you, Mr. Prosecutor.”

  “Fine, Counselor, if that’s the way you want to play it, but it’s not the way I’d recommend starting out, given the situation your client is in.”

  “And what situation is that?”

  “Let me draw you a picture of a guilty man, Counselor. We have a man with a history of psychiatric illness, living in a house full of guns; a man who cheats on his wife, and shoots the family dog. He’s a failure in business and totally dependent on his wife, who leaves him because of his cheating. He researches dozens of ways to kill her, and keeps a literary journal of these attempts and a computer full of incriminating files. He solicits his mechanic for information on how to kill his wife by sabotaging her car, and he solicits his friends for information on stealing sniper rifles from the army. He consults with two undercover police detectives in a bar about how to purchase a hit on his wife, and he was the prime suspect in a recent investigation into the death of an army veteran. And we have an anonymous caller who has told us that Peter confessed to her that he murdered his wife. If the bill restoring capital punishment passes before the state legislature - and I hope it does - your client is in even deeper shit.

  “Now, Elaine dear, I know you are not a criminal lawyer, but just imagine yourself as an ordinary citizen on a jury being presented with these facts. You should seriously consider trying to convince Mr. Broviak to enter a guilty plea. It will save us all a lot of work, and will save him from a penalty he does not wish to pay.”

  “Mr. Prosecutor, my client didn’t do it and he has an alibi. I note you didn’t mention that you have any physical evidence from the scene. What are you going to do about that?”

  “I have no comment. This is not an official hearing, much less a trial. I think we’re done here. I do strongly urge you to consider a guilty plea. I say this as a compassionate human, now, and not as district attorney. I’m trying Mr. Broviak myself, and if you look up my record, you’ll see I never lose.”

  “I’m moved by your compassion, Mr. Prosecutor, but I think you had better think about the very real possibility of jeopardizing your perfect record this time.”

  Elaine took her leave. It was true that Slick Willie had a perfect record. He had a perfect record because, as district attorney, he was able to pick only perfectly winnable trials - not because he was all that good at his job. Elaine had to wonder if the fix was in. She was more worried about what Slick Willie hadn’t told her today than what he had.

  What the district attorney hadn’t told her was that her alibi witness had asked to see him the next day to make a statement. He also hadn’t mentioned that “Zsanett Lakatos” a.k.a. Frannie Fox had a record for perjury, in addition to some petty drug charges and prostitution busts.

  Research conducted by his office revealed that she had been pardoned for the crimes and had no “official” record, but pardons were a joke in a case like this, in this state. Granted, he couldn’t slap her official conviction record down in front of the court clerk and label it an “exhibit”, but there were six other ways to introduce the criminal record of a pardoned witness. Slick Willie knew all six. Peter Broviak had no defense with a convicted perjurer as his alibi.

  Chapter 69

  Elaine was worried about Slick Willie, and the fact that Peter’s story was now being given national coverage. There were leakers in the police department or the District Attorney’s Office, spreading a lurid tale of a busty and beautiful former high-level state official brutally murdered by her husband. They had let out information that Peter wrote a book about killing his wife and then tried to erase the files – in vain – from his computer. Everyone from the New York Times to FOX News to bloggers she had never heard of before was bothering her. She told them all the same story: “I personally believe my client is innocent. The matter will be before the courts in due course, and I cannot comment any further due to attorney-client privilege.” This answer did nothing to satisfy their insatiable urge to chew up poor Peter and spit him onto death row. She didn’t want this to happen.

  Somehow the news media had gotten ahold of her cellphone number, and she had received scores of calls in the past few days. Today was the worst so far. How these people got her cellphone number was a mystery to her - a mystery that was soon solved by another incoming call. The display said “Bachman & Bates.”

  Elaine answered, “Hello.”

  “Elaine, it’s Sindra. Has there been any movement in Mr. Broviak’s case?”

  “There has been no movement, and there’s nothing else I can tell you, either. Maybe you can explain to me how the press got ahold of my private cellphone number?”

  Ignoring her question, Sindra went on, “Counselor, let me tell you something. The news media is hungry, fickle and fast-moving. We need some meat to throw at them to keep the story alive. Are you with me?”

  “I’m afraid there’s nothing I can do. I need to defend my client on a murder charge and protect a rather vulnerable man from being ruined in a ‘trial by newspaper.’”

  “Counselor, I’d like to wake you up to a few realities here. You should start thinking of the big picture regarding your client’s welfare. You asked us for a million dollars - which, of course, we are not going to pay - but we’ll pay something for an advance. Do you know how we calculate the size of an advance? I’ll tell you. For every dollar of free publicity we get out of an author, we pay 10 cents in an advance. Did you think we’d pay a million dollars to a first-time author for a badly written book on a disgusting subject? We pay for publicity, not literature, and you had better start generating some publicity or the advance we give you starts a sharp downhill slide to nothing, as soon as the spotlight on Mr. Broviak fades to black.”

  “You have made yourself very clear, Sindra. You have an obligation to your stockholders, and I have an obligation to my client, and we clearly must agree to disagree about publicity. This call is over.” And Elaine snapped her phone shut. There was no doubt in her mind who had alerted the news media to Peter’s situation. The prosecution would have been more than happy to collaborate. Publicity was a road to riches for Sindra and a pathway to glory for Slick Willie, who had political aspirations beyond being head prosecutor. Winning Peter’s trial with its national news potential was the final push he needed to get on the political gravy train.

  The press was referring to Kathryn’s death as the “Murder-by-the-Book Murder.” Peter was so often called the “Murder-by-the-Book Killer” that Elaine abbreviated the moniker in her head as a kind of mental shorthand. A selection of headlines included “MBTBK Free on Bail,” “MBTBK in Hiding,” “MBTBK Killed Own Dog” and last but not least, ”MBTBK Prime Suspect in Prior Slaying.”

  The news vultures must have talked to all of Peter’s “friends” and a lot of cops to get their supposed “facts.” Elaine knew that Peter had merely reported the tragic death of his army friend and his friend’s dog. The press painted Peter as the prime suspect in what was essentially a double suicide. Peter humanely euthanized his own suffering pet, and the news reported him as having killed his dog as a warm-up to killing his wife. Sindra must be heartless beyond all heartlessness to want Elaine to feed this frenzy of unfounded speculation.

  The smear campaign was the least of her worries. Peter was going to lose his freedom and perhaps his life in a court of law, unless a way could be found to exonerate him. His two remaining claims to innocenc
e were that the prosecution probably had no physical evidence at the scene, and his alibi witness. Elaine was nagged by Peter’s mention that Frannie had a criminal record and by her own inept handling of Frannie when they met in her office. Elaine had been pulled in too many emotional directions to effectively interrogate Frannie on that one critical matter.

  Elaine was soon handed a second opportunity. Her phone rang and she checked the call display. It read “Zsanett Lakatos” but the voice was Frannie’s husky whisper.

  Elaine didn’t even say “Hello.” Despite her best intentions to treat Frannie with kid gloves, she shouted, “You asshole! Why didn’t you tell me what you’d been arrested for? Do you not realize that the prosecution is going to have a field day with this? Are you trying to get Peter convicted?”

  “Miss High and Mighty Potty Mouth, I don’t have a record any more. There’s a pardon law in this state and that record was erased. Besides, it was none of your business!”

  “You have a record as long as someone remembers it and contacts the district attorney. I’ll just bet he has a whole list of civic-minded persons on his Rolodex who would be more than happy to come forward. I’ll ask you again: what the hell do they have on you? I want to hear it from you this time. I don’t want any more surprises in court.”

  “Look, I’m telling the truth about where Peter was and that should be enough. I’m going to tell that to the district attorney this afternoon. The District Attorney’s Office wants to see me and I’m going to give them an earful.”

  “You’re not going anywhere near the district attorney. He has no right to be interviewing you at this stage. The next time he sees you should be in court. You gave a statement to the police and they can re-interview you in a reasonable manner for a reasonable time, but that doesn’t hold true for the District Attorney’s Office. Do you understand?”

  “Look, Lawyer Lady, I have a bone to pick with this idiot if he’s going to drag me through the mud in court. I’m going to tell him the truth today. He’s just a man, and there isn’t any man I can’t handle.”

  “I’m begging you, don’t do any more damage. Please don’t go … if not for my sake, then for Peter’s.”

  “Shove your begging up your ass. I’m going, and that’s that! Goodbye.”

  Elaine just looked at the phone and put it in her purse. She might as well go for a walk, have a coffee or answer the next call from a reporter and tell all, for all the good she could do Peter now. It was over. With luck, when she next saw Peter, he would be too drunk to understand what she had to tell him. He had to think about a plea bargain on the charge, because his chances in front of a jury were going to be nil.

  Chapter 70

  Frannie waltzed into the District Attorney’s Office and announced herself to the assistant. She had a real attitude on. In return, the assistant looked at Frannie like she was a piece of snot that had dripped through the door. The assistant told her to sit and wait until she was called. Frannie just stood and glared and refused to sit. The assistant cupped the phone and whispered that “Ms. Lakatos” was waiting. Frannie heard her whispered name since she was standing only two feet from the desk.

  “Ms. Lakatos, District Attorney Mancuso and his assistant will see you now. Just go in that door.”

  Frannie walked away from the desk without offering a word of thanks. She opened the door and saw Slick Willie and his assistant behind a boardroom table opposite the door. Slick Willie looked like he was going to jump out of his skin for just a tenth of a second as he looked at her face. He recovered immediately though, and his assistant never noticed a thing. He was not called Slick Willie for nothing.

  A small sly smile spread across Frannie’s face when she saw him. She stopped in her tracks and just stared at him for a second, until he said, “Ms. Lakatos, we’re so pleased you could come. I’m Bill Mancuso and this is my assistant counsel, Doug Weldon.”

  “I know who you are, Mr. Mancuso, and I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Weldon.” Slick Willie was in control and didn’t flinch at her remark about knowing him.

  “Please have a seat. This’ll be brief. We just want to go over a few things you told the police that are unclear to us, if you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind at all, Mr. Mancuso. It will be a pleasure to share the truth with you.”

  Slick Willie asked a number of obvious and innocuous questions that Frannie answered with ease. He seemed to be making up questions on the spot and covering his improvisation with bland officiousness. Frannie read men like a book, even these two with their poker faces. When Slick Willie got to the end of his prepared questions, his assistant counsel slipped a note in front of him. He read it with no apparent reaction.

  “Ms. Lakatos, I hate to trouble you, but my assistant and I need to confer in private for a moment and we need you to step outside. I’m sorry, it will only be a moment.”

  Frannie graciously obliged and shut the door quietly behind her, glared at the receptionist, and took a seat in such a way as to show way too much leg.

  Doug Weldon asked, “Bill, aren’t you going to ask about her record? We could kill her with her own admission and wouldn’t even have to get anyone else to testify about her convictions.”

  “Doug, I’ve been in this game a long time, and I have a bullshit detector like you wouldn’t believe. This lady is telling the truth and we don’t have the right to assassinate her character and disrupt her life just to support a shaky arrest. We’re all on the same side here: the side of justice. Just because ours is an adversarial system doesn’t mean we have to act like savages. I’m not going to use her record to discredit her testimony. I don’t think we’ll even take this to trial now. You know Doug, the secret to a perfect record in this imperfect court system is to pick only the battles you can win.”

  “But, sir …”

  “Don’t ‘but sir’ me. Just listen to me and learn. When I’ve moved on from this service to a higher calling and you’re in my position, I hope you listen to your better nature as I have today. Doug, please go tell Ms. Lakatos that we have no more questions for her and thank her for coming in. I have a few notes to complete here while you do that. Thank you, Doug.”

  Slick Willie sat stock still with no expression on his face, and looked at the door through which his assistant had exited. His mind saw the headlines that would ruin his marriage, his political career and his life. He knew Ms. Lakatos very well. But he knew her as Dark Betty, “Mistress of Discipline.” When his last marriage was on the rocks, he had often turned to Betty to humiliate and punish him for his many failings.

  In this case, Slick Willie was pleased to allow justice to triumph.

  Doug entered the waiting room and did as he was told. He thanked Ms. Lakatos and told her she could leave.

  Frannie looked at him and said, “Your boss is a wise man.” She brushed her left breast against his arm when she stood up to leave. He jumped as though a snake had bitten him. Frannie fancied she knew Doug was gay, even if he didn’t know it himself.

  As soon as she got outside, she phoned Elaine. She didn’t wait for Elaine’s greeting but just blurted out, “Elaine, I just got out of my meeting with the district attorney. He didn’t ask me about my record and he never will.”

  “And how do you know that? Intuition or a wild guess?”

  “District Attorney Mancuso is a man I have known professionally. In fact, he was one of my specialty clients. He called himself “Stephen Harper” in my dungeon. He thinks of me as Dark Betty, the Mistress of Discipline - one of my noms de guerre. I helped him through his last divorce and through his new wife’s pregnancy. He’s a good client and very obedient. I just looked at his eyes when I walked into the room and they told me all I needed to know. Your boyfriend is going to skate.”

  Chapter 71

  Elaine was speechless, but her mind was racing. She managed to mumble “thank you” before she hung up and dialed Peter. Peter didn’t answer, so she made a list of other people to call, putting William Jefferson
Mancuso at the top. He was not available. Next on her list was Sindra Dempsey. Sindra took the call.

  “Sindra, maybe we should talk about that advance now.”

  “Why is that, Elaine?”

  “Well, if you can keep this quiet for a few days until I confirm it, your newest star author is about to have the charges against him dropped.”

  “Elaine, I have no intention of keeping this quiet. The only reason that hack will ever be a star is if I get him publicity. And further, I want whoever it is who is dropping the charges to do it at a press conference, maybe outside of Peter’s house, with Peter in attendance. That way all the TV trucks that are there now won’t have to leave.”

  Elaine fought the urge to curse or threaten Sindra, but she knew it was her own fault for bragging. A lawyer should know that knowledge is power and she had just given away her power to the Bachman & Bates publicity machine. Elaine merely replied, “Let me tell Peter first, before the newshounds break down his door.”

  “Fair enough, Elaine. You have two hours.”

  Elaine bit her tongue again and asked, “Could you at least give me until I call you back and tell you that Peter has heard the good news from me?” Elaine’s uncharacteristically meek tone had a purpose - maintaining the goodwill of Peter’s new meal ticket.

  “Okay. Call me the minute our boy has the news.” And Sindra hung up.

  Elaine tried Slick Willie again and was put through. “Mr. Prosecutor, I understand from a mutual friend of ours that you are going to drop the charges against my client.”

  “Who told you that?” Slick Willie blustered.

  “Do I have to spell it out for you, or do you want to hear her name on the 11 o’clock news?”

  Slick Willie growled, “Maybe your friend is right. I will be making an announcement to the media about this case tomorrow morning.”