JAN. 27, 2006
CHILLING WAKEUP

I'm not one to beat around the bush, so I'll just come right out and say it: I hate most lawyers. I can count on one hand the number of lawyers I've met in my life who I didn't think were either sleazebags or windbags.

There are only a few lawyers I respect, and today I got a surprising visit from one of them, let's call him Tony. I've been dealing with Tony for over 15 years, and we've reached a kind of understanding.

Don't get me wrong, I can still look at Tony as a cat in the canary cage. But in the crook business, nothing is black and white. You always have to keep an open mind.

So today when he shows up in my office and says he needs to talk to me, I'm ready to listen.

Tony poses a hypothetical: A man comes into his law office and claims to have murdered his wife. Tony was obviously asking me what I thought this "hypothetical" lawyer should do. My response was immediate.

Lawyer or not, I told him, this hypothetical guy would have a duty to disclose the identity of the murderer and the location where the victim might be, in case she was somehow still alive. I told him that it would be a shame to read in the San Francisco press that a defense lawyer contributed to the death of an innocent woman.

After that, Tony dropped the act. He said the man claiming to have killed his wife was downstairs, and that he'd bring him up right away.

Soon Tony reappeared with a short, unassuming man by his side. The guy walked with his head hanging down – a bad sign. I immediately asked where the victim could be found, and when Tony gave me the address, I had Lieutenant Disher dispatch units code 3 to the location to check the well-being of an adult female.

I then directed Tony and his client, lets call him Michael Smith, into an interview room. As we moved in that direction, I noted what appeared to be fresh bloodstains on Michael's shoes and pant legs. Although his hands were clean, his fingernails were dirty, darkened by a familiar stain. Blood.

After reading Michael his rights, I asked him to start from the beginning and tell me everything that had happened. As he began telling the story, I started to feel a little, well, uncomfortable.

As Michael described his 30-year marriage, it sounded like the perfect relationship. He and his wife, Margaret, had met and fallen in love as teenagers. Both were over-achievers who valued education and hard work, and both did their best to provide for their family. They were the proud parents of three children, whom they did everything possible to support.

Then, as college tuition bills started to mount, Michael had taken on a second job. He said that while he was killing himself trying to support the family, Margaret seemed to relax and slack off. He felt like Margaret was becoming more and more distant, and felt like she wasn't the same person he had married.

That was when he first became suspicious and started looking into what she was doing when he wasn't home. He hired a private detective who found some suspicious information, but didn't have enough money to continue paying the guy.

Then Michael noticed that cell phone bills were missing, and when he started checking the mileage on Margaret's car found an increase in miles which he thought was unusual given that she claimed to spend most of her days at home. His suspicion started to mount, but every time he would confront her, she would shut him down with sarcasm or turn things around with accusations.

As Michael continued to talk, I realized that his story sounded a little too familiar. It was like hearing a complete stranger describe my own marriage. And the story this guy was telling sure didn't sound like it was going to have a happy ending.

Just then we were interrupted by a knock at the door. Disher motioned me outside and confirmed my worst suspicions: Margaret really was dead, stabbed numerous times. When I returned to the table Michael picked up his story again without a signal, and kept talking until he had described in brutal detail how he had murdered his wife.

When the interview ended, Disher led Michael away. Tony quickly mentioned, on the record, that his client's statements were those of an insane man and indicated that he would be seeking a psychiatric defense. Tony says the case will never even go to trial, and I wish I could say for sure that he is wrong.

But who knows. I'll push for charges of murder with no mitigating circumstances, and we'll just have to let the shrinks fight it out.

You know, it's strange, even though I've seen some pretty gruesome homicides in my day, this case really got to me.

I guess in a way it kind of hit home. Not that I'm some kind of murderer or anything, but still it kind of made me wonder how different I am from that guy?

I mean I love my wife, I'd never hurt a hair on her head. But what if, in a different kind of way, I've done the same thing as that pathetic bastard I saw in the station today? What if I've ruined my marriage and destroyed my family? What if Karen and I can't make things work again?

What if I've lost her for good?

Past Entries:

• (1/20) The Dinner Party
• (1/13) The Team Building Workshop