by J. S Ellis
‘I will look into this,’ he said.
It was clear, he was convinced I had killed Richard. ‘Please do,’ I said.
He sighed and shook his head. ‘Mrs. Knight, let’s say Michael had sent those photos, why would he do that?’
‘Because I ended the affair. He’s bitter and wants to humiliate me and cause problems with my husband, that’s why! And what about the key I found misplaced in my bag?’
‘Keys get misplaced all the time, you could have misplaced it yourself.’
‘I am not crazy, I’m positive I placed it in the right pocket.’
‘Back to your affair... Michael said you were planning to leave your husband to be with him?’
‘No! I loved my husband, the affair was a mistake.’
‘But Michael said otherwise, and I quote reading from his notes, “she had become impossible, her drinking was out of control. She has deep emotional issues. She told me constantly she'd leave her husband so we could be together. I tried to break it off, but she wouldn’t have it.”’
I glanced at Jonathan with my mouth gaped open. ‘I suggest you stop with this line of questioning. My client is telling the truth.’
Blake sighed. ‘Fine. We’re done here.’
Out of the police station, Jonathan told me he’s going to prepare me for further questioning. We need to go through everything that happened and start to gather evidence. This has made me alarmed, though Jonathan assured me not to be, I can’t help it.
30th July
Afternoon,
Diary,
I sit alone, petrified. I can’t help feeling I’m next. I’m trying to think of someone who would want to wish Richard harm? Richard didn’t have enemies, or at least not the kind that would want him dead. I’m so helpless, I can’t go anywhere. Richard died in the apartment, and only I was there. It makes me a prime suspect.
Who could have done this? I peered out of the window. They are watching me, including the journalists who keep stalking outside Sylvie’s apartment trying to photograph me. I can’t turn on the TV without seeing my face. They think I did it too. The drunken wife and cheater. I look like an asshole to the public, the most hated woman in Britain, and I didn’t even do anything. There was a headline on a local talk show hosted by Olivia Gilmore, a famous TV personality, which said:
Did she? Or Didn’t she?
She showed a clip of Michael walking down the street dressed in black trousers, a T-shirt of Bridget Bardot, a red blazer, and sunglasses. He was ignoring the questions from reporters, the next headline said
Blond Bombshell Michael Frisk Sophie’s Knight former lover.
He walked over to the car that was waiting for him, with his head down.
‘What made you have an affair with Mrs. Knight knowing she was married?’ A journalist asked.
As he stepped into the car, he answered, ‘I fancied her!’
I bet he loved being called a bombshell by Olivia Gilmore. I couldn’t bear to watch, she hasn’t ever met me. Who is she to make judgments? I am innocent! I didn’t kill Richard!
I’m drowning, I’ve never felt this alone in my life. I can’t answer any more questions from my lawyer or the police. It’s like I’m in a movie I don’t want to be in. How am I going to prove my innocence?
3rd August
Evening,
Poison, the woman’s weapon, also known as the coward’s weapon. Everything is slipping away, I’m writing this on a few pieces of paper I asked for in the police station. I am in custody charged with Richard’s murder. Blake came with the warrant for my arrest. I’m waiting for Jonathan to do something! The police found bleach in the kitchen cupboard under the sink. The bottle was almost empty. I couldn’t believe my ears. I don’t keep washing products under the sink. I put them near the washing machine. Along with the bleach were plastic tubes and a turkey baster. One of them was used. Both had my fingerprints, and Richard’s DNA was on the turkey baster. My diary was taken from me and placed in an evidence bag. I’m glad they have it, they’ll find out the truth now.
Another interview took place, which took forever. They also found sodium hypochlorite in Richard’s aftershave. I pleaded with them, I am innocent, but it was of no use. They are not going to believe me, why should they? I’m the woman with a drinking problem who cheated on her husband. In their eyes, I’m a liar. They want the facts, the evidence, but they don’t understand, it was planted there. I’m being framed. When Blake told me the aftershave contained poison, it all came to me. I recall finding the aftershave misplaced after Michael had been in the apartment.
‘In your diary entry, you wrote that you found the aftershave misplaced?’
‘Yes, along with my key!’
Then it came to me, like someone punched me on the face.
‘It can’t be,’ I said, ‘impossible!’
But it is possible and makes perfect sense. The puzzle is coming together, I have been so blind. The aftershave and the key were misplaced, it was Mike. He had planned it all along. If only I had realized?
He played us like his puppets on a string. The saddest part is that Richard is dead. Michael killed Richard and framed me for his murder. I see it now. Why didn’t Michael go after me, why did Richard have to suffer, an innocent man? How could someone do something like this? He wanted to ruin my life, and he succeeded.
An affair and murder are similar. You’ll need three tools to be successful:
The right person—me the drunk, an excellent candidate to have a relationship with, and to frame for murder.
Opportunity—my drinking.
Motive—his jealous rage.
Who was sending those notes? I have no proof, because Michael covered his tracks so well. My hands are trembling from not having a drink. The horror is sinking in. I’m going to prison for a long time.
5th August
Morning,
The judge refused bail, so I am here, in custody, like a criminal. Jonathan prepared me for what's coming.
‘Do you think I killed him?’ I asked Jonathan.
He paused for a while. ‘The first rule of being a solicitor is what you think doesn’t matter.’
‘It matters to me,’ I said.
‘No, but it’s not me we have to convince, it’s the jury.’
My life, my freedom, and my innocence depend on the jury’s verdict. I sit here recalling my old life before the affair, how serene it was. Jonathan told me, we have to gather witnesses for the case. I asked if Michael will testify. He said he might. He is going to crush me in the courtroom, and I’ll have to sit there and take it.
10th August
Evening,
My husband is dead, my career is finished, and my life is over. All that’s left is for me to die. I have nothing to live for anymore. A man who looks like an angel has cost me everything. Nothing can save me from that fate now. I could get a minimum of thirty years for something I didn’t do.
Things are moving quickly as I move closer to my fate. Today, was my first day on trial. I was taken by a police van where I was escorted inside with my hands in cuffs like a criminal. The flashbulbs of the paparazzi surrounded me, as I was led through a dark corridor. We went into a courtroom. I have never been inside one before. I watched the jury as they filed in, all different in age, gender, and ethnicity. Those people would decide my future. And today was my first chance to try to convince them of my innocence.
The room moved when the judge walked in, he was an elderly man wearing a robe and a wig. He climbed the steps to an altar.
I can’t write often, it will only be a matter of time before I have to stop. I’m so scared. I can’t bear prison, let alone to be there for something I didn’t do. I don’t talk to any of the inmates in there, not even the woman I share the room with. She’s in for selling drugs, and I’ve heard them whisper to one another The Husband Killer.
The prosecutor addressed the jury. ‘Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, you’ll hear ironclad proof of Mrs. Knight’s guilt and eviden
ce from the night of 25th of July. Sophie Knight poisoned her husband Richard Knight.’
Ms. Taylor is a snotty woman around my age, with long blonde hair, brown eyes, and flat cheekbones.
They put forward versions about how I plotted to kill my husband. Ms. Taylor’s theory is I’ve been poisoning Richard’s aftershave. That I had a lot to drink that night, killed him. My story was going to sound colorful, but I had to give it my all. I will not sit in a cell for the next twenty or so years, I’d hire a private investigator if necessary. I will come out as a free woman and prove Michael did it.
The judge nodded, and the barrister addressed the jury. They all looked at me with curiosity.
Sylvie turned up to testify. She was tastefully dressed in a designer grey suit.
‘Ms. Edwards, how long have you known the defendant?’ Ms. Taylor asked.
‘Fifteen years.’
‘So you’re good friends?’
‘Yes, we’re close.’
‘And you didn’t know she has a drinking problem?’
‘Objection!’ Jonathan said.
The Judge addressed Sylvie. ‘Sustained, answer the question.’
‘Well... she did drink here and there, but it didn’t occur to me she had a drinking problem.’
‘And she stayed with you when she and her husband were having problems?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you know she was having an affair?’
‘I found out through an email.’
‘So, you didn’t know about that before?’
She shook her head. ‘No.’
‘So, you’re not that close then?’
‘Yes, we are.’
‘How would you describe Mrs. Knight’s marriage?’
‘Stable, she took care of Richard when he got sick, she’s nurturing and loving.’
‘If her marriage was stable, why would she have an affair?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Do you believe Sophie knight murdered her husband?’
‘No.’
20th August
Evening,
Michael loves every bit of this, I couldn’t bear it to see him sit there and lie to the jury. Especially, when he told the court about my drinking.
‘She always asked me to give her a drink,’ Michael said.
‘Did you give her any?’ Ms. Taylor asked.
‘No, she used to go to the pub down the road from where I live.’
‘How did you know this?’
‘I went there to get her myself.’
‘I see... and you ended the affair, right?’
‘Yes.’
‘How did she take it?’
‘Not well.’
‘Did she got angry, threaten you? Showed signs of violent behavior?’
‘She was angry but didn’t threaten me, no.’
‘What happened then?’
‘I didn’t see her for a month or so... then, I saw her and....’
‘And what?’
He lowered his eyes. Oh, he was good.
‘And what? You had sex?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’
‘I see...did she mention her husband to you?’ Ms. Taylor asked, pacing down the courtroom.
‘Yes.’
She turned to him. ‘What did she say?’
‘That she was unhappy, that she wanted to leave him. She hated him.’
I wanted to take off my shoes, throw them at him, and yell ‘liar!’ I glanced at Jonathan who listened intently without objecting to what the persecutor was asking Michael.
‘Hate, that’s a strong word.’
‘That’s what she said.’
‘And she was going to leave her husband to be with you?’
‘Yes,’ he said.
There were whispers from the court. The judge banged his gavel.
‘No further questions,’ she said.
‘You didn’t seem to mind she was married, you still went after her, didn’t you?’ Jonathan asked, standing up and buttoning up his blazer.
‘Well, I liked her,’ Michael replied.
‘And why not? Mrs. Knight is a stunning woman. But, you kept making advances even when she told you many times she wasn’t interested.’
‘Objection!’
‘Overruled... answer the question,’ the judge said.
‘That’s not the impression she gave me,’ Michael said.
‘All of this happened after the night Sophie had suffered from memory loss. Was she with you and your friends the night before?’
‘Yes, she was.’
Jonathan turned to the court. ‘Item eighteen, ladies and gentleman, is the dress Sophie wore that night she had her memory loss.’
The dress have been forensically examined. I had high hopes the forensics would find traces of DNA on it but to my dismay, nothing.
Jonathan advanced to the table, ‘are you aware she kept a diary?’
Mike's face remained composed. ’No, I wasn’t.’
Jonathan paced around the courtroom. ‘Yes ladies and gentleman of the jury, Mrs. Knight kept a diary. Item twenty-one. I’m going to read some passages from the diary for the jury.’
He turned to the jury. ‘The diary has you written all over it.’ He turned to Michael who sat there frozen.
‘Objection how is this relevant to Mrs. Knight killing her husband?’ Ms. Taylor asked.
‘Sustained,’ the judge said.
‘She kept every record of every encounter she had with you.’ Jonathan told Michael.
He read from the diary. ‘You ran to her in the street, and you told her, and I quote,’ “You never said you’re happily married.” Did you or didn’t you say those exact same words to my client?’
‘I did, yes. As I said, I was attracted to her.’
‘So much you left her a note at her mailbox, didn’t you? Item twenty-three,’ he said. Michael squirmed. Jonathan showed the note to him, ‘Isn’t this your handwriting?’
He peeked at the note and wrinkled his nose with disgust. ‘Yes.’
‘What was your intention?’
‘I liked her company.’
‘You barely knew Mrs. Knight, and you enjoyed her company? On the other hand, you had a friend to protect? Is that why you seduced Mrs. Knight? Is that why you sent her notes?’
‘Objection Argumentative!’
‘I’ll allow it,’ the judge replied.
Mike’s face turned white. ‘What notes? I didn’t send her any notes!’
Jonathan reached for the notes. ‘You weren’t aware the notes existed? Item sixteen.’
‘No, I wasn’t!’
‘You didn’t write her notes’ Jonathan said.
‘No, I did not.’
Jonathan went to table, gathered the note, and walked over to Mike. ‘Can you read the note to the jury?’
‘You’re making a huge mistake. Look around you, and you’ll find the truth.’ Michael read it in a composed manner.
‘Doesn’t that note look familiar to you?’ Jonathan asked, pacing up and down.
‘No.’
‘Did you also repeatedly call her house? And did you pushed her into an oncoming car?’
‘Objection!’
‘Who sent them? Your friends? Is that why you hacked her email and sent discriminating photographs to her colleagues and family, to humiliate her?’
‘Objection! What is the point of this?’
‘Get to the point,’ the judge said.
‘Did you threaten her? Mrs. Knight was receiving notes that upset her. Did you send them to her to scare her?’
‘No, I did not. I never sent her any notes, and no I didn’t make any phone calls to her house, how could I? I didn’t have her home number!’
I scanned the courtroom and did a double take, Andy was there at the back listening to Mike, shaking his head with disbelief. Did he come with Mike? Does he know I didn’t do it?
25th August
Afternoon,
Today Jonathan told me the police
are getting anonymous phone calls asking for Blake. The callers told him I didn’t kill my husband, and that if they look more closely, the truth is there. Blake isn’t the kind to let something like this be ignored. However, he’s more than happy to ignore everything I told him. In his eyes, I’m a drunk, and a fantasist even. Who’s making the anonymous calls?
I lost my job, my license, and my reputation. I have nothing to live for. Even if, by a sort of miracle, I am proven innocent, there’ll always be the suspicion. Did she, or didn’t she?
My neighbor, Mr. Smith’s testimony, helped a little.
‘You saw Mrs. Knight and her lover go to her apartment?’
‘Yes, she opened the door, and they walked in,’ Mr. Smith said.
‘What was your reaction?’ Ms. Taylor asked.
‘I was shocked, but it was none of my business.’
‘Were you aware Mrs. Knight and her husband were having problems?’
‘No, they seemed fine to me. That’s why I found it odd to see her with another man.’
‘Did you hear them argue, shout?’
‘No, nothing of that sort, they are decent people. If they argued they made sure they weren’t being heard.’
‘Were you aware Sophie has a drinking problem?’
‘I saw her in the neighborhood buying wine, and sometimes she seemed off.’
‘In what way off?’
‘Unsteady walks, slurring in her speech.’
‘Did you hear anything odd the night Mr. Knight was killed?’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘Were you surprised she killed her husband?’
‘Yes, most surprised. Sophie always seemed loving and nurturing to her husband, she took care of him.’
‘No further questions.’
30th August
Afternoon,
It was my turn to testify today, and I knew what was coming. Jonathan told me to stay calm. The strange thing was, I felt calm. This is the most horrifying experience of my life, and I am calm.
‘Mrs. Knight, you heard the testimony presented to this court and your explanation is someone killed your husband?’ Ms. Taylor asked.
‘That’s correct.’
‘Well let’s consider the possibilities. Did a ghost murder your husband?’
‘Objection!’ Jonathan said.
‘Aliens perhaps?’
‘Objection! Is Ms. Taylor questioning the witness or making a closing argument?’