April 22, 2024 • 25 mins
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Episode Transcript
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(00:00):
Welcome back to Vanishing Shadows. Inthe last episode, I think about my
own escape plan, how difficult itwill be to execute. Now I'll need
Benjamin to let me out of hisself styled dungeon. I'll need to earn
back his trust, so he'll giveme the space I need to get away
to fake my death. Only onethought gives me comfort. One way or
(00:24):
another, I will soon be free. The weekend passes in a blur.
I only know the day by myhusband's presence. He hasn't returned to the
office, so it must be Saturdayor Sunday. Eventually I realize that he's
not going back. He's working inhis study because I can't be left alone.
(00:47):
Even with Jesse out of the picture. Benjamin no longer trusts me for
obvious reasons. I had plotted hismurder to take everything he's built for my
own. Is he slightly afraid ofme? Now? It's an uplifting,
even giddy feeling, But I playthe penitent ask my husband for forgiveness.
(01:11):
I tell him I was manipulated byJesse, bullied into his scheme, which
is not entirely false. Eventually Benjaminbuys it. Of course, he does
He thinks I am weak and stupid, incapable of power or agency. He
doesn't suspect that my remorse is justa ploy to get out of the basement
(01:32):
room, because I can't enact myplan if I am shut away as a
prisoner. And so when my husbandlets me out, I revert to my
former role. I cook his meals, clean his house, take his punishments,
all with a knowing glint in myeye. As the days pass,
(01:53):
his unease is still palpable. Hehas not returned to his downtown office and
remains locked away in his study forhours on end. He has stationed Nate
inside the big Man, standing nearthe front door, eyes subtly following me
around the house. I am alab rat, trapped in a cage,
(02:14):
studied, monitored, ultimately disposable.One morning, after I sat Benjamin's eggs
in front of him, I tendera request, May I go see my
mother today? No, it's theanswer I expected, so I don't respond,
don't press. I had hoped tosay goodbye to her, but in
(02:37):
a way I already did long ago. She won't know I am gone,
so she won't miss me. Ihave made my peace with it, but
As I'm cleaning the kitchen, Inoticed Nate chatting to my husband, their
heads bent in serious conversation. Momentslater, Benjamin approaches me. If you
(03:00):
want to spend your time with azombie, go ahead, he says,
but Nate will drive you. Thankyou. My smile appears grateful. From
the back seat of Nate's SUV.I watched the city fly past. This
will be my last sojourn into Seattle, a place I have always considered my
(03:22):
home. Now it feels like aforeign country. My world has dwindled to
such a tiny radius gem grocery store, State Park that venturing outside of my
orbit is strange and new. Thanks, I say to Nate, who has
yet to speak. His eyes meetmine in the mirror. They're questioning for
(03:45):
convincing Benjamin to let me visit mymom. You can't keep a person from
their mother, he says, flickingon his indicator. That's just wrong.
But everything about my relationship with Benjaminis wrong, and Nate knows that better
than anyone. The care home iscalm, serene, even with a soft
(04:09):
color, pallid and natural light floodingin through large windows. The manager,
Greta Williams, a birdlike woman drowningin a chunky cardigan leads me to a
back garden where my mother is seatedin a cushioned chair. She is facing
a wild rose bush, the fragrancewafting toward me as I approach. Fat
(04:30):
bumblebees flit between the pink blossoms,and my mom watches them wrapped. When
I look at her face, Isee a small, contented smile. This
is why I stayed with Benjamin,why I signed his contract and followed his
rules. My mother is at peacehere, maybe even happy, despite all
(04:54):
she has lost her memories, heridentity, her daughter. She is comfortable
and cared for. I pull upa chair and sit next to her.
Was she always this tiny? Shewas petite but strong. I felt it
when she held me in her arms, comforted me and supported me. Now
(05:15):
she is softer, her body fragileand brittle, wasting away. Hi,
Mamma, I whisper, and sheturns her face toward me. It is
there, for only a second,a flicker of recognition. She knows me.
I am sure of it, andthen her eyes go blank again,
(05:38):
and she turns back to the view. I take her hand, soft and
papery and talk softly to her aboutour memories, the good ones. Only
the hard times, the mistakes,our financial struggles are all forgotten and forgiven.
All I remember are the laughs,the cuddles, the unconditional love a
(06:00):
parent has for a child, theonly pure love I have ever felt,
a gloss over my marriage and myaffair, and tell her that she raised
a strong and vital woman, thatI have taken control of my own destiny,
that I am not a victim anymore. She doesn't notice the faint
(06:21):
remnant of bruising under my eye,mostly camouflaged by make up now, or
the swelling on the right side ofmy lip from Benjamin's slap. I kiss
her on the cheek, and thenI say good bye. When I get
home, Benjamin is ensconced in hisstudy. He doesn't emerge, doesn't ask
(06:44):
after my mother's welfare, doesn't checkto see if I'm upset. It would
be out of character, frankly disconcertingif he did. I can just hear
his voice, serious and professional throughthe closed door. I know better than
to interrupt, and I feel noneed to say good bye to him.
(07:05):
I turned to Nate. I'm goingto take a bath. He nods,
gives me a small smile of compassion. Nate has a mother. He understands
what I'm going through. He ishuman, unlike Benjamin. I climb the
stairs slowly, my body weary,resigned, but my spirit feels light because
(07:30):
I am ready, ready to letgo and ready to make my husband pay.
Inside the luxurious bathroom, I lockthe door behind me and turn on
the bath tub taps full blast.The hot water gives the air a steamy
jungle feel, and the sound ofthe rushing water will camouflage my voice.
(07:53):
I won't leave a suicide note.Benjamin will feel nothing when he reads it
except maybe relief, no guilt orshame or regret, and he will destroy
it instantly, tell his friends andcolleagues that I was depressed, unhinged,
ill. Public humiliation is the onlyway I can hurt him. Propping my
(08:16):
iPhone on the courts countertop, Ihit record. Leaning close to the camera,
I begin to speak. My nameis Hazel Laval, I say,
my voice just above a whisper,shaky with nerves and emotion, and I'm
about to kill myself. Over thepast few days, I had come to
(08:41):
accept that suicide was my only optionwith my husband home and security on high
alert. There was no other wayto set myself free and protect my mother.
But before I died, I woulddestroy Benjamin. I still had the
power of my voice. A recordedsuicide note indicting my husband for his abuse
(09:03):
and shared online would ruin him.He'd be fired from his job, shunned
from his social circle, maybe evenheld criminally responsible for my death. My
husband, Benjamin Leaval is cruel andabusive. I continue. He's treated me
like a slave for years. Hemade me sign a total power exchange contract
(09:28):
giving him complete control over my life. He locked me in a room when
I disobeyed him, and he mentally, physically and emotionally tortured me. I
can't no, I won't take itany more, but there is no other
way out. By the time yousee this message, I'll be dead.
(09:52):
Benjamin Laval killed me. I hopehe will pay for it somehow. When
I am done recording, I opena scheduling app. In one week,
my video will post to all mysocial media channels. I had never been
very active online, but I'd curateda sparse but perfect feed, photos of
(10:15):
meals I'd cooked, ocean views,a selfie, and a gorgeous outfit,
but this video will blow away thefacade, and God willing, it will
blow up my husband's life. AfterI turn off the taps, I reach
under the sink and remove a bottleof lemon scented cleaning solution. A few
(10:37):
days ago, I'd emptied it,washed it, and filled it with vodka.
If Benjamin found a bottle of liquorconcealed in the bathroom, he'd have
been suspicious and I would have beensent to the basement room. At the
back of the drawer in my vanityrests a bottle of sleeping pills. My
husband never allowed me to have morethan twelve pills at a time, but
(11:00):
I've been stockpiling them. I've gottwenty eight tablets, now more than enough.
Combined with the vodka, I willfall asleep, slip under the water,
and I won't come up. Bythe time Benjamin or Nate becomes concerned
and picks the lock or breaks downthe door, it will be too late.
(11:20):
I'll be dead. My hands fumblewith buttons and zippers as I slowly
methodically remove my clothes. I alreadyknow what it feels like to drown.
The intense pressure in the lungs.The moment of panic as the body instinctively
fights to breathe, followed by adeep, heavy rest. The cold softened
(11:43):
the experience for me the last time. This time, the substances will do
it, and Lee won't be thereto wrench me from the water. Shaking
the pills into my hand, Inotice that I am trembling. I am
ready. This is the best,the only way, But now I'm frightened.
(12:05):
I am a young woman and Iam about to die. Despite my
circumstances, there is a flicker oflife force inside me that doesn't want to
be extinguished. I take a largedrink of vodka liquid courage. It is
in that moment that I hear thefront door bell ring. I should not
(12:28):
be diverted from my plan. Whoknows when I will have another opportunity.
I should swallow these pills, washthem down with more vodka, and climb
into the tub. But Nate's muffledvoice travels through the floorboards, followed by
the voice of a woman. Mycuriosity is piqued. Unannounced guests are rare
(12:50):
at our house, female ones evenmore so. Could it be Lee come
to confront me for double crossing her? Or to thank me for saving her.
Dumping the medication back into its bottle, I grab a floral silk robe
off the hook on the back ofthe door and slip into it. Tentatively,
I move into the hallway. Thevoices are clearer now. I hear
(13:15):
the woman again, and perhaps anunknown man. Benjamin has joined them too.
His anger and belligerence travel up thestaircase. This is a fucking outrage,
he bellows, and the female voiceresponds inaudibly. If it's Lee at
the door, I must protect her. She is no match for an angry
(13:37):
Benjamin. Wrapping my thin robe tighteraround me, I hurry down the stairs
and bare feet. As I scurrytoward the entryway, it becomes clear that
the female interloper is not Lee.Her voice is calm, authoritarian, and
her words are just audible. Sheis reading the Miranda writes, But to
(14:01):
whom I burst into the foyer.What the hell is going on? But
it is obvious my husband is beingarrested. A muscular, uniformed officer is
coughing Benjamin's hands behind his back,like he is a common criminal, like
he is a threat to society.My chest flutters with a combination of shock,
(14:26):
elation and hope. The woman,a detective, I assume, given
her no nonsense blazer and slacks ensemble, approaches me. Are you Hazel Laval?
Yes, my name is Detective French. We're arresting your husband for conspiracy
to commit murder. Murder. Ifeel chilled and exposed in my thin silk
(14:52):
robe, my teeth chattering through mywords. Who's murder? Her face is
grave, her lips pressed into athin line. Yours, she says fifty.
I stagger back as if shoved.French reaches out cups my elbow for
(15:16):
support, but I don't collapse.Somehow I remain upright, though my mind
is reeling with the news and thelogistics of it. Had Benjamin and I
been simultaneously plotting each other's deaths,or had he found out about Jesse's and
my plan to get rid of himand decided I needed to die. I
(15:37):
almost saved him the trouble. Ifthe police had arrived an hour later,
I'd have been dead. The detective'shand is steady on my arm. Would
you like to sit down? Inod. Let her lead me to the
living room, where I sink intothe sofa behind me. I hear Benjamin
(15:58):
instructing Neate call David Viga, gethim to meet me at the station,
and then he addresses the cops.We'll have this dismissed at arraignment, and
you'll have egg on your face.I turn in my seat to watch the
uniformed officer escorting my husband out thedoor. The whole scenario feels unbelievable,
(16:19):
dream like moments ago. I hadonly one way out of my abusive marriage,
and now my husband is being takento jail. Something bubbles up inside
me optimism, because if Benjamin isbehind bars, he can no longer hurt
me. I'll be safe and I'llbe free. As if he can read
(16:45):
my mind, Benjamin calls back tome, don't worry, missy, I'll
be home soon. Despite his pleasanttone, it is a warning, a
threat. A visible shiver runs throughFrench clocks. It don't worry, he
won't be Are you sure? Myvoice is husky? Is he goind a
(17:10):
jail? He'll be processed and sentto holding. She says, I'll likely
be rained tomorrow, given the seriousnessof these charges and his extensive resources.
I'll be surprised if he gets bail. You don't know him. I tell
her he's powerful and connected. He'sa criminal defense lawyer. My panic is
(17:33):
building. Benjamin was planning to killme. If he gets out, he
will finish the job. I feellightheaded, weak, sick. The detective
attempts to call me. You'll bea signed a victim's advocate to guide you
through the legal process. She says. You'll be kept informed of his release
(17:56):
if it happens. If it's notgood enough, you might want to consider
getting your own lawyer. French says, her voice low and confidential. This
could get messy. There's no doubtabout that. And I have no one
(18:17):
else to lean on, no friends, no family. Benjamin has made sure
of it. I can hardly reachout to my circle of acquaintances, the
spouses of my husband's colleagues. Youmay have heard Benjamin has been arrested for
planning to murder me. Would youlike to try that new wine bar on
Pike? Most people can't afford it, The cop ads, glancing around at
(18:41):
our luxurious surroundings, but it canmake things a lot easier. She thinks.
I am rich for obvious reasons.But despite my fine home filled with
expensive art and furnishings. I don'thave my own money. Benjamin gave me
credit cards that I was allowed touse for clothes, groceries and beauty treatments.
(19:03):
I asked him for cash when Ineeded it, but he wouldn't necessarily
oblige me, and the safe inhis study is practically emptied of money.
I had found the code written ona slip of paper tucked behind a picture
frame. The money was now withLee. It was hopefully in Panama.
I'll do it, I tell her, because I have to protect myself.
(19:27):
Can you recommend someone? I'll seethat you get a list of lawyers who
handle these kinds of cases. Thanks, She stands, suddenly cool and perfunctory.
We have a warrant to seize thecomputers and smartphones as evidence. Can
you show me where they are?Uh? Of course. I get up
(19:51):
and lead her toward the study,but Nate blocks our path. Can I
see the warrant? He says,he is loyal to Benjamin. He is
still on the payroll despite our affinity. Nate is not my ally. For
all I know, he could havebeen tasked with my murder, but he'd
(20:11):
had ample opportunity to do it,and he hadn't, so, how had
my husband planned to get rid ofme? The officer hands Nate a document
and he looks it over. Apparentlyit's all in order, because he steps
aside. Detective French summons two uniformedofficers with a wave of her hand,
(20:32):
and I lead them into Benjamin's sanctuary. The laptop is there on the desk,
hooked up to a massive monitor.The police must have confiscated my husband's
phone when they arrested him, becauseI don't see it. Did he have
any other devices? French asks me, an iPad and extra phone. No,
(20:52):
not that I know of. We'llneed your phone too, But why
I'm the victim? I'm here theremight be texts or emails between you and
your husband that we can use asevidence in our case against him. My
husband's correspondence with me was only everinstructions what he wanted for dinner, what
(21:14):
clothes I should wear, where Iwas to meet him for an event.
I'm almost sure there is nothing toincriminate me on my phone. I never
texted Jesse. We were careful aboutthat. The police will only find trivial
to chat with my superficial friends andlee our conversations were so much deeper,
(21:37):
but over text they were logistical only. I remember the flurry of calls the
day she went to the SPA,but they are easily explained. A friend
with car trouble, a friend whohas moved on. And then I remember
the suicide video. My phone isupstairs, I say, as panic flips
my stomach over. I I wasabout to take a bath. Officer Dean
(22:03):
will take you upstairs, French says, waving over a stopping young man in
uniform. I promise we'll get yourphone back to you as soon as possible.
Why do I need an escort again? I feel like she suspects me
of something, like she knows thereis more to this story, but perhaps
(22:25):
she just thinks I am too weakto make it up the stairs. I
give the young officer a complacent smileand allow him to trail me to the
upper level. As we approach thebathroom, I turn to Officer Dean.
I I'm going to be sick,I tell him, and I know it's
convincing. I am pale and clammy. I clutch my stomach for effort.
(22:48):
Can I have a moment? Henods to him. I'm a woman who
has just learned that her husband wantsher dead nothing more. I hurry to
the bathroom and lock the door.Inside. I turn on the sink to
camouflage my movements. My phone ison the edge of the tub, and
I grab it, quickly, cancelingthe scheduled video. Then I delete the
(23:11):
recording and the app. I havealready insured my files don't sink to the
cloud. The police don't need toknow that I ever thought about killing myself.
No one does. Because now Iwant to live. If Benjamin goes
to jail, I will be afree woman. I can be happy.
(23:33):
I can have my life back.Putting the vodka filled bottle of cleaner back
under the sink, I shove thesleeping pills into the drawer and turn off
the taps. I look at myselfin the mirror, wan and shaky,
but safe. For the moment atleast, I must remain calm. I
(23:56):
must protect my secrets. With myphone in hand, I exit the bathroom.
Officer Dean is leaning casually against theopposite wall when I emerge, but
he writes himself quickly. Here itis, I say, handing the phone
to him. I notice the plasticgloves he is wearing the plastic bag he
(24:18):
drops it into. It's all soofficial, and I feel vulnerable again.
You can get dressed, he says, and we'll take you down to the
station. Why do I need togo to the station. Your perspective is
important, it's standard procedure. ButI have nothing to say. I had
no idea my husband was planning tokill me. The words sound like a
(24:42):
foreign language in my ears. It'sour job to build a case for the
prosecutor. If we don't do itthoroughly, your husband could get off.
Fear sends a tremor through me,rattles my bones. If Benjamin gets released
after this, he will be lethal. The officer sees my angst and presses
(25:03):
on, as he intended victim.You might know something useful, the intended
victim. But I have so muchto hide, of course, I say,
but can't we just talk here?I'm really not feeling well. The
tactive French would like you to cometo the station. I could crack under
(25:27):
a harsh interrogation, spill all mysecrets, my own deadly plans. But
if I refuse to go, itwill look bad. I will look guilty,
and so I give him an obligingNOD give me a few minutes.
Welcome back to Vanishing Shadows. Inthe last episode, I think about my
own escape plan, how difficult itwill be to execute. Now I'll need
Benjamin to let me out of hisself styled dungeon. I'll need to earn
back his trust, so he'll giveme the space I need to get away
to fake my death. Only onethought gives me comfort. One way or
(00:24):
another, I will soon be free. The weekend passes in a blur.
I only know the day by myhusband's presence. He hasn't returned to the
office, so it must be Saturdayor Sunday. Eventually I realize that he's
not going back. He's working inhis study because I can't be left alone.
(00:47):
Even with Jesse out of the picture. Benjamin no longer trusts me for
obvious reasons. I had plotted hismurder to take everything he's built for my
own. Is he slightly afraid ofme? Now? It's an uplifting,
even giddy feeling, But I playthe penitent ask my husband for forgiveness.
(01:11):
I tell him I was manipulated byJesse, bullied into his scheme, which
is not entirely false. Eventually Benjaminbuys it. Of course, he does
He thinks I am weak and stupid, incapable of power or agency. He
doesn't suspect that my remorse is justa ploy to get out of the basement
(01:32):
room, because I can't enact myplan if I am shut away as a
prisoner. And so when my husbandlets me out, I revert to my
former role. I cook his meals, clean his house, take his punishments,
all with a knowing glint in myeye. As the days pass,
(01:53):
his unease is still palpable. Hehas not returned to his downtown office and
remains locked away in his study forhours on end. He has stationed Nate
inside the big Man, standing nearthe front door, eyes subtly following me
around the house. I am alab rat, trapped in a cage,
(02:14):
studied, monitored, ultimately disposable.One morning, after I sat Benjamin's eggs
in front of him, I tendera request, May I go see my
mother today? No, it's theanswer I expected, so I don't respond,
don't press. I had hoped tosay goodbye to her, but in
(02:37):
a way I already did long ago. She won't know I am gone,
so she won't miss me. Ihave made my peace with it, but
As I'm cleaning the kitchen, Inoticed Nate chatting to my husband, their
heads bent in serious conversation. Momentslater, Benjamin approaches me. If you
(03:00):
want to spend your time with azombie, go ahead, he says,
but Nate will drive you. Thankyou. My smile appears grateful. From
the back seat of Nate's SUV.I watched the city fly past. This
will be my last sojourn into Seattle, a place I have always considered my
(03:22):
home. Now it feels like aforeign country. My world has dwindled to
such a tiny radius gem grocery store, State Park that venturing outside of my
orbit is strange and new. Thanks, I say to Nate, who has
yet to speak. His eyes meetmine in the mirror. They're questioning for
(03:45):
convincing Benjamin to let me visit mymom. You can't keep a person from
their mother, he says, flickingon his indicator. That's just wrong.
But everything about my relationship with Benjaminis wrong, and Nate knows that better
than anyone. The care home iscalm, serene, even with a soft
(04:09):
color, pallid and natural light floodingin through large windows. The manager,
Greta Williams, a birdlike woman drowningin a chunky cardigan leads me to a
back garden where my mother is seatedin a cushioned chair. She is facing
a wild rose bush, the fragrancewafting toward me as I approach. Fat
(04:30):
bumblebees flit between the pink blossoms,and my mom watches them wrapped. When
I look at her face, Isee a small, contented smile. This
is why I stayed with Benjamin,why I signed his contract and followed his
rules. My mother is at peacehere, maybe even happy, despite all
(04:54):
she has lost her memories, heridentity, her daughter. She is comfortable
and cared for. I pull upa chair and sit next to her.
Was she always this tiny? Shewas petite but strong. I felt it
when she held me in her arms, comforted me and supported me. Now
(05:15):
she is softer, her body fragileand brittle, wasting away. Hi,
Mamma, I whisper, and sheturns her face toward me. It is
there, for only a second,a flicker of recognition. She knows me.
I am sure of it, andthen her eyes go blank again,
(05:38):
and she turns back to the view. I take her hand, soft and
papery and talk softly to her aboutour memories, the good ones. Only
the hard times, the mistakes,our financial struggles are all forgotten and forgiven.
All I remember are the laughs,the cuddles, the unconditional love a
(06:00):
parent has for a child, theonly pure love I have ever felt,
a gloss over my marriage and myaffair, and tell her that she raised
a strong and vital woman, thatI have taken control of my own destiny,
that I am not a victim anymore. She doesn't notice the faint
(06:21):
remnant of bruising under my eye,mostly camouflaged by make up now, or
the swelling on the right side ofmy lip from Benjamin's slap. I kiss
her on the cheek, and thenI say good bye. When I get
home, Benjamin is ensconced in hisstudy. He doesn't emerge, doesn't ask
(06:44):
after my mother's welfare, doesn't checkto see if I'm upset. It would
be out of character, frankly disconcertingif he did. I can just hear
his voice, serious and professional throughthe closed door. I know better than
to interrupt, and I feel noneed to say good bye to him.
(07:05):
I turned to Nate. I'm goingto take a bath. He nods,
gives me a small smile of compassion. Nate has a mother. He understands
what I'm going through. He ishuman, unlike Benjamin. I climb the
stairs slowly, my body weary,resigned, but my spirit feels light because
(07:30):
I am ready, ready to letgo and ready to make my husband pay.
Inside the luxurious bathroom, I lockthe door behind me and turn on
the bath tub taps full blast.The hot water gives the air a steamy
jungle feel, and the sound ofthe rushing water will camouflage my voice.
(07:53):
I won't leave a suicide note.Benjamin will feel nothing when he reads it
except maybe relief, no guilt orshame or regret, and he will destroy
it instantly, tell his friends andcolleagues that I was depressed, unhinged,
ill. Public humiliation is the onlyway I can hurt him. Propping my
(08:16):
iPhone on the courts countertop, Ihit record. Leaning close to the camera,
I begin to speak. My nameis Hazel Laval, I say,
my voice just above a whisper,shaky with nerves and emotion, and I'm
about to kill myself. Over thepast few days, I had come to
(08:41):
accept that suicide was my only optionwith my husband home and security on high
alert. There was no other wayto set myself free and protect my mother.
But before I died, I woulddestroy Benjamin. I still had the
power of my voice. A recordedsuicide note indicting my husband for his abuse
(09:03):
and shared online would ruin him.He'd be fired from his job, shunned
from his social circle, maybe evenheld criminally responsible for my death. My
husband, Benjamin Leaval is cruel andabusive. I continue. He's treated me
like a slave for years. Hemade me sign a total power exchange contract
(09:28):
giving him complete control over my life. He locked me in a room when
I disobeyed him, and he mentally, physically and emotionally tortured me. I
can't no, I won't take itany more, but there is no other
way out. By the time yousee this message, I'll be dead.
(09:52):
Benjamin Laval killed me. I hopehe will pay for it somehow. When
I am done recording, I opena scheduling app. In one week,
my video will post to all mysocial media channels. I had never been
very active online, but I'd curateda sparse but perfect feed, photos of
(10:15):
meals I'd cooked, ocean views,a selfie, and a gorgeous outfit,
but this video will blow away thefacade, and God willing, it will
blow up my husband's life. AfterI turn off the taps, I reach
under the sink and remove a bottleof lemon scented cleaning solution. A few
(10:37):
days ago, I'd emptied it,washed it, and filled it with vodka.
If Benjamin found a bottle of liquorconcealed in the bathroom, he'd have
been suspicious and I would have beensent to the basement room. At the
back of the drawer in my vanityrests a bottle of sleeping pills. My
husband never allowed me to have morethan twelve pills at a time, but
(11:00):
I've been stockpiling them. I've gottwenty eight tablets, now more than enough.
Combined with the vodka, I willfall asleep, slip under the water,
and I won't come up. Bythe time Benjamin or Nate becomes concerned
and picks the lock or breaks downthe door, it will be too late.
(11:20):
I'll be dead. My hands fumblewith buttons and zippers as I slowly
methodically remove my clothes. I alreadyknow what it feels like to drown.
The intense pressure in the lungs.The moment of panic as the body instinctively
fights to breathe, followed by adeep, heavy rest. The cold softened
(11:43):
the experience for me the last time. This time, the substances will do
it, and Lee won't be thereto wrench me from the water. Shaking
the pills into my hand, Inotice that I am trembling. I am
ready. This is the best,the only way, But now I'm frightened.
(12:05):
I am a young woman and Iam about to die. Despite my
circumstances, there is a flicker oflife force inside me that doesn't want to
be extinguished. I take a largedrink of vodka liquid courage. It is
in that moment that I hear thefront door bell ring. I should not
(12:28):
be diverted from my plan. Whoknows when I will have another opportunity.
I should swallow these pills, washthem down with more vodka, and climb
into the tub. But Nate's muffledvoice travels through the floorboards, followed by
the voice of a woman. Mycuriosity is piqued. Unannounced guests are rare
(12:50):
at our house, female ones evenmore so. Could it be Lee come
to confront me for double crossing her? Or to thank me for saving her.
Dumping the medication back into its bottle, I grab a floral silk robe
off the hook on the back ofthe door and slip into it. Tentatively,
I move into the hallway. Thevoices are clearer now. I hear
(13:15):
the woman again, and perhaps anunknown man. Benjamin has joined them too.
His anger and belligerence travel up thestaircase. This is a fucking outrage,
he bellows, and the female voiceresponds inaudibly. If it's Lee at
the door, I must protect her. She is no match for an angry
(13:37):
Benjamin. Wrapping my thin robe tighteraround me, I hurry down the stairs
and bare feet. As I scurrytoward the entryway, it becomes clear that
the female interloper is not Lee.Her voice is calm, authoritarian, and
her words are just audible. Sheis reading the Miranda writes, But to
(14:01):
whom I burst into the foyer.What the hell is going on? But
it is obvious my husband is beingarrested. A muscular, uniformed officer is
coughing Benjamin's hands behind his back,like he is a common criminal, like
he is a threat to society.My chest flutters with a combination of shock,
(14:26):
elation and hope. The woman,a detective, I assume, given
her no nonsense blazer and slacks ensemble, approaches me. Are you Hazel Laval?
Yes, my name is Detective French. We're arresting your husband for conspiracy
to commit murder. Murder. Ifeel chilled and exposed in my thin silk
(14:52):
robe, my teeth chattering through mywords. Who's murder? Her face is
grave, her lips pressed into athin line. Yours, she says fifty.
I stagger back as if shoved.French reaches out cups my elbow for
(15:16):
support, but I don't collapse.Somehow I remain upright, though my mind
is reeling with the news and thelogistics of it. Had Benjamin and I
been simultaneously plotting each other's deaths,or had he found out about Jesse's and
my plan to get rid of himand decided I needed to die. I
(15:37):
almost saved him the trouble. Ifthe police had arrived an hour later,
I'd have been dead. The detective'shand is steady on my arm. Would
you like to sit down? Inod. Let her lead me to the
living room, where I sink intothe sofa behind me. I hear Benjamin
(15:58):
instructing Neate call David Viga, gethim to meet me at the station,
and then he addresses the cops.We'll have this dismissed at arraignment, and
you'll have egg on your face.I turn in my seat to watch the
uniformed officer escorting my husband out thedoor. The whole scenario feels unbelievable,
(16:19):
dream like moments ago. I hadonly one way out of my abusive marriage,
and now my husband is being takento jail. Something bubbles up inside
me optimism, because if Benjamin isbehind bars, he can no longer hurt
me. I'll be safe and I'llbe free. As if he can read
(16:45):
my mind, Benjamin calls back tome, don't worry, missy, I'll
be home soon. Despite his pleasanttone, it is a warning, a
threat. A visible shiver runs throughFrench clocks. It don't worry, he
won't be Are you sure? Myvoice is husky? Is he goind a
(17:10):
jail? He'll be processed and sentto holding. She says, I'll likely
be rained tomorrow, given the seriousnessof these charges and his extensive resources.
I'll be surprised if he gets bail. You don't know him. I tell
her he's powerful and connected. He'sa criminal defense lawyer. My panic is
(17:33):
building. Benjamin was planning to killme. If he gets out, he
will finish the job. I feellightheaded, weak, sick. The detective
attempts to call me. You'll bea signed a victim's advocate to guide you
through the legal process. She says. You'll be kept informed of his release
(17:56):
if it happens. If it's notgood enough, you might want to consider
getting your own lawyer. French says, her voice low and confidential. This
could get messy. There's no doubtabout that. And I have no one
(18:17):
else to lean on, no friends, no family. Benjamin has made sure
of it. I can hardly reachout to my circle of acquaintances, the
spouses of my husband's colleagues. Youmay have heard Benjamin has been arrested for
planning to murder me. Would youlike to try that new wine bar on
Pike? Most people can't afford it, The cop ads, glancing around at
(18:41):
our luxurious surroundings, but it canmake things a lot easier. She thinks.
I am rich for obvious reasons.But despite my fine home filled with
expensive art and furnishings. I don'thave my own money. Benjamin gave me
credit cards that I was allowed touse for clothes, groceries and beauty treatments.
(19:03):
I asked him for cash when Ineeded it, but he wouldn't necessarily
oblige me, and the safe inhis study is practically emptied of money.
I had found the code written ona slip of paper tucked behind a picture
frame. The money was now withLee. It was hopefully in Panama.
I'll do it, I tell her, because I have to protect myself.
(19:27):
Can you recommend someone? I'll seethat you get a list of lawyers who
handle these kinds of cases. Thanks, She stands, suddenly cool and perfunctory.
We have a warrant to seize thecomputers and smartphones as evidence. Can
you show me where they are?Uh? Of course. I get up
(19:51):
and lead her toward the study,but Nate blocks our path. Can I
see the warrant? He says,he is loyal to Benjamin. He is
still on the payroll despite our affinity. Nate is not my ally. For
all I know, he could havebeen tasked with my murder, but he'd
(20:11):
had ample opportunity to do it,and he hadn't, so, how had
my husband planned to get rid ofme? The officer hands Nate a document
and he looks it over. Apparentlyit's all in order, because he steps
aside. Detective French summons two uniformedofficers with a wave of her hand,
(20:32):
and I lead them into Benjamin's sanctuary. The laptop is there on the desk,
hooked up to a massive monitor.The police must have confiscated my husband's
phone when they arrested him, becauseI don't see it. Did he have
any other devices? French asks me, an iPad and extra phone. No,
(20:52):
not that I know of. We'llneed your phone too, But why
I'm the victim? I'm here theremight be texts or emails between you and
your husband that we can use asevidence in our case against him. My
husband's correspondence with me was only everinstructions what he wanted for dinner, what
(21:14):
clothes I should wear, where Iwas to meet him for an event.
I'm almost sure there is nothing toincriminate me on my phone. I never
texted Jesse. We were careful aboutthat. The police will only find trivial
to chat with my superficial friends andlee our conversations were so much deeper,
(21:37):
but over text they were logistical only. I remember the flurry of calls the
day she went to the SPA,but they are easily explained. A friend
with car trouble, a friend whohas moved on. And then I remember
the suicide video. My phone isupstairs, I say, as panic flips
my stomach over. I I wasabout to take a bath. Officer Dean
(22:03):
will take you upstairs, French says, waving over a stopping young man in
uniform. I promise we'll get yourphone back to you as soon as possible.
Why do I need an escort again? I feel like she suspects me
of something, like she knows thereis more to this story, but perhaps
(22:25):
she just thinks I am too weakto make it up the stairs. I
give the young officer a complacent smileand allow him to trail me to the
upper level. As we approach thebathroom, I turn to Officer Dean.
I I'm going to be sick,I tell him, and I know it's
convincing. I am pale and clammy. I clutch my stomach for effort.
(22:48):
Can I have a moment? Henods to him. I'm a woman who
has just learned that her husband wantsher dead nothing more. I hurry to
the bathroom and lock the door.Inside. I turn on the sink to
camouflage my movements. My phone ison the edge of the tub, and
I grab it, quickly, cancelingthe scheduled video. Then I delete the
(23:11):
recording and the app. I havealready insured my files don't sink to the
cloud. The police don't need toknow that I ever thought about killing myself.
No one does. Because now Iwant to live. If Benjamin goes
to jail, I will be afree woman. I can be happy.
(23:33):
I can have my life back.Putting the vodka filled bottle of cleaner back
under the sink, I shove thesleeping pills into the drawer and turn off
the taps. I look at myselfin the mirror, wan and shaky,
but safe. For the moment atleast, I must remain calm. I
(23:56):
must protect my secrets. With myphone in hand, I exit the bathroom.
Officer Dean is leaning casually against theopposite wall when I emerge, but
he writes himself quickly. Here itis, I say, handing the phone
to him. I notice the plasticgloves he is wearing the plastic bag he
(24:18):
drops it into. It's all soofficial, and I feel vulnerable again.
You can get dressed, he says, and we'll take you down to the
station. Why do I need togo to the station. Your perspective is
important, it's standard procedure. ButI have nothing to say. I had
no idea my husband was planning tokill me. The words sound like a
(24:42):
foreign language in my ears. It'sour job to build a case for the
prosecutor. If we don't do itthoroughly, your husband could get off.
Fear sends a tremor through me,rattles my bones. If Benjamin gets released
after this, he will be lethal. The officer sees my angst and presses
(25:03):
on, as he intended victim.You might know something useful, the intended
victim. But I have so muchto hide, of course, I say,
but can't we just talk here?I'm really not feeling well. The
tactive French would like you to cometo the station. I could crack under
(25:27):
a harsh interrogation, spill all mysecrets, my own deadly plans. But
if I refuse to go, itwill look bad. I will look guilty,
and so I give him an obligingNOD give me a few minutes.
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