You Don't Fuck With JC

I slipped a CD disk into my computer and made a copy of the email along with the three photos. Then I deleted the email and followed that with a scrubber program which erases all evidence of the email from my hard drive.

As I sat back in my swivel chair trying to make sense of Janet's betrayal of our marriage. The only explanation I could come up with was to blame it on Janet's multiple personalities. Yet, if she wanted a divorce I would have given it to her and we both could have walked away from this train-wreck of a marriage. But now, my revenge would be swift and complete. I would take no prisoners nor give any mercy to either of them. The plan was beginning to gel inside my mind. I left the office building and went around the corner to a pay phone.

The number I dialed was an untraceable pay-as-you-go cell phone. "Carmine, I think it's time for me to collect on that debt you owe me."

When I got home around 7:30, Janet was already home and watching TV. She didn't get up and run over to hug and kiss me. She just looked up and simply said. "You're coming home late."

"So were you." Was my simple reply as I moved into the kitchen area. Nothing else was said between the two of us. I took a beer out of the refrig and walked down the hall to the spare room I had converted into an office. I locked the door behind me.

When a person is convicted of a capital crime in this country, there is usually one of two sentences the guilty person could receive. The death penalty or life in prison. In my revenge plan, there would be one death penalty and one life in prison sentence.

I needed some quiet time to think through the rest of my revenge plan. Carmine would do his part in settling the score with Mr. Robert Toldson for me. Settling the score with Janet would be a personal effort on my part. I had to put everything in place to make the revenge seem to the police a simple matter of a wife running away from her loving husband.

Over the next couple of days, I continued to send flowers to Janet's office for everyone to see that her loving husband still cared about her. I made reservations for dinner at a restaurant near the place where she worked. I left messages for her to meet me there for dinner. She never showed up. I told the matra 'd to give our table to someone else. I made sure he would remember me being stood up by my wife.

Janet came home later that evening. No explanation, no reason for not showing up for our dinner reservation. The fact of the matter was I simply didn't care for anything she might have said in her defense. The die had been cast, the wheels of revenge were in motion.

Later the next day, a courier came to my office and handed me a envelope marked 'Personal and Confidential'. In it was a single sheet of paper. The heading was in bold print. "Destroy After Reading". The first sentence simply said "Get an air tight alibi for tomorrow night." The second sentence had a name, Carlos Mandara, and a phone number. I read and re-read the phone number until I had it memorized. The sheet of paper was then sent through the paper shredder. I picked up the shredded pieces to take with me. They would be dropped is a number of different trash cans out side the office building.

That evening I beat Janet home from work. I changed clothes, poured a tall Jim Beam and sat down to listen to some smooth jazz. The TV would not go on tonight. It was to be my night as King-of-my-Castle. Janet would have to find some way to entertain herself.

There was no confrontation with Janet when she got home. She quickly sized up the scene and turned around and walked out the door again. I'm not sure where she was going, maybe out to eat, maybe out to meet Robert Toldson again. I could care less. The sand in the hour glass was almost empty for the two of them.

I was in bed when Janet finally came home and slipped quietly into bed along side me. Silence was the loudest noise to be heard before I fell asleep.

Thursday evenings are the usual poker night for several of the guys from work. I had joined in the game a couple of times just to keep in touch with the rumor mill that was always busy at the office. It's amazing what bits of information you can find when guys loosen up with a few drinks in them. The game was held in the back room of the Old Stagecoach bar. This was going to be my air tight alibi for the rest of the evening.

This time it was me who slipped into bed early in the morning. The clock on my night stand read 2:35 as I pulled the covers over me. Not a sound or movement from Janet. It wasn't hard for me to fall asleep even though I knew what had taken place some time earlier that evening.

********************************

Now that Robert Toldson had been delivered his death penalty, it was now time to mete out the punishment to the second perpetrator. There didn't need to be any immediate action for the life-in-prison penalty. The fact that Janet's punishment would begin soon after I made a phone call gave me a sense of satisfaction and justice.

Whatever it was in Janet's warped personalities which made her feel that she could blatantly disrespect me in the most hideous manner, was something for someone else to determine. I no longer felt any compassion toward the woman I once loved with all my heart and soul. The retribution which was about to fall on her was of her own making.

The police interviewed every member of the staff at Calcus Realty Agency. They got several interesting but inconsistent statements from members of the staff. Janet was one of the people who the police interviewed more than once.

A detective Lawrence Bacton stopped by the house that evening and questioned me about any knowledge I might have about Robert Toldson. I told the detective I had met Robert only once. That was at a Christmas party which Calcus held for all its employees and their spouses. Other than that one time, I had not seen or spoken to Mr. Toldson.

The detective tried to bait several questions with the inference that Robert and Janet may have been more than just co-workers at the agency. I told him I had complete faith in my wife's faithfulness and I could not think of any reason to doubt her fidelity. He just smiled at me as if he were thinking me to be the poor sorry cuckold.

The funeral for Robert Toldson was held on Tuesday. That morning, I saw Janet dressed in her solemn black dress, the same one she wore for my mother's funeral. She didn't ask me if I wanted to come with her to Robert's funeral. Whatever she was thinking concerning Robert's death she kept to herself. I'm sure she had a lot to think about including the murder and her infidelity.

On several occasions during the next week, Janet seemed to want to start a serious discussion about our relationship. My cold shoulder toward her quickly brought her attempts to an immediate halt. I was beyond any form of reconciliation or kiss and make up. I had my finger on the button, I could push it anytime I chose to end the charade.

Three weeks after Robert's murder, the police investigation seemed to peter out. The police could find no new leads. Someone indicated there was the possibility Robert might have been murdered by a loan shark or a bookie.

During those three weeks, Janet's mental state continued to deteriorate. She seemed to be more absent minded and confused. Little things seemed to frighten her. I offered no aid or comfort to her even though I could see she was having a difficult time. Too bad slut, I would think to myself as I watched her slowly falling apart.

Finally, on the following Thursday, I made the phone call to Carlos. He already had the plan in place and was anxious to get it under way. Janet had only hours before her "new life" would begin.

Friday morning I was off to work before Janet was dressed. I did not want to see her this last time in my house. The sand in the hour glass was empty. A car with two men in it was parked across the street from our house.

The kidnapping occurred at an intersection where there was a 4-way stop sign. A car in front and back of Janet's car blocked any attempt for her to drive away. With the precision of a Delta Force team, two men moved into action. As soon as the driver's door was opened, a needle was stuck into her arm as the seat belt was cut away from her body. Janet was pushed into the passenger seat as one of the men got in behind the steering wheel. The three vehicles drove off quickly. The total elapsed time was less than 30 seconds. There were no witnesses.

At 11:00 that morning, in a branch bank located on the east side of town, a woman dressed and made to look exactly like Janet walked into the bank and handed the teller a withdrawal slip for $25,000 from our joint account. The lady had a driver's license and passport as proof of identity. It took several minutes for the teller to get the withdrawal in the form of a cashier's check. A guard escorted the woman out to her car. He noted the license plate as the woman drove out of the parking lot.

The line of passengers at the American Airlines ticket counter was not very long as the Janet look-alike made her way to the smiling clerk behind the counter. She picked up the boarding pass after showing the clerk her photo ID and passport. The flight reservations had been made on-line the night before. The first leg of the trip was to JFK airport and then a non-stop on flight #951 to Rio de Janeiro. Her flight left Pittsburgh at 4:45 in the afternoon for JFK New York. Then, at 10:30 that evening the American Airlines plane lifted off the runway taking the passenger Janet Cannela on an overnight flight to Brazil.

I waited till noon on Saturday before I called the police to report a missing person. Surprisingly, detective Lawrence Bacton was the officer who came to the house to take the report. I told him Janet had not come home at her usual time. I tried to call her on her cell phone but the I got the not-in-service notification. I called Amanda Stokada, one of Janet's close friends at Calcus Realty. Amanda told me Janet had not come to work yesterday. She didn't even call in to report off.

Detective Bacton was make some cryptic notes in his little note pad. Every now and then he would look up at me. He finally began to ask questions about my marriage. Were we having problems and did they have anything to do with Janet's disappearance. I told him the same thing I said when he question me after Robert Toldson's murder. Our marriage was fine and I could not think of any reason why Janet would voluntarily disappear. He then ask me if I had anything to do with foul play involving Janet. Again, I told him I loved my wife and I could not harm her.

Lying to the police was an actor's trait which I developed at a very early age running with the Junior Mafia. It still worked well for me.

It was three days later when Detective Bacton came to my office during business hours. I guess he wanted to personally gauge the husband he was dealing with. After being ushered into my office, he sat down and gave me a tight lipped smile.

"Do you have any news concerning Janet's whereabouts?" I wore my distressed husband's face as I question him.

"Yes and no, Mr. Cannela. We did some retracing of Janet's activities after she left your house on Friday morning. Several people claim they saw her having coffee at the Denny's restaurant on Bennett street around 10:00 on Friday morning. She then showed up at the Allegheny National Bank around 11:00. We have a video surveillance tape of her at a cashier's window making a $25,000 withdrawal out of your joint saving account." Dt. Bacton stopped to assess the shocked expression on my face.

My acting must have passed the test as I asked in shocked amazement. "Janet took $25,000 out of our savings account?!? .... That's not possible. She didn't tell me anything about her wanting to withdraw any money from our savings."

"The facts are pretty clear. The cashier made photo copies of Janet's driver's license and her passport before she made out the cashier's check. I'm sure that once you see the surveillance tape, you'll be able to identify the person at the cashier's window as your wife Janet." Once again Dt. Bacton stopped to gage my reactions to his disclosure.

"I still think there must be some mistake detective. Janet and I talked about everything that's happening in our marriage. I'm sure she would have told me if she needed a large sum of money." My bewildered look backed up my words as I stared back at the police detective. I knew the detective was holding on to the most devastating news till last. I had to prepare myself for another acting encore.

"The most disturbing news, Mr. Cannela is the fact that your wife purchased airline tickets to New York and on to Rio de Janeiro. We located her car in the long term parking lot at the airport. Her flight left Pittsburgh Friday afternoon at 4:45 and then her flight to Rio left New York at 10:30. We contacted the Rio de Janeiro police in hopes of locating Janet. She seems to have vanished once she arrived in Rio." Dt. Bacton was now staring hard at me waiting for my reaction.

"No...no...this is craziness!" I shouted at him. "Janet would never do anything like that! I know she loves me and I love her. Leaving the country is nonsense!" Lay it on, John. I was telling myself as I acted out the betrayed husband script for the detective. I began to cry right in front of the detective.

There was silence in my office for a minute or so before the detective started talking again. "Do you think this has anything to do with the murder of Robert Toldson?"

"What?!? How do even dare to ask that question? My wife had nothing to do with that murder. You interviewed her yourself. She was never charged with anything connected with that case!"

"We never charged your wife, Mr. Cannela, but she was high on our suspect list. Several other people we interviewed told us they suspected your wife and Mr. Toldson were lovers." His eyes seemed to be boring holes into my head.

"You got to be kidding! First, you give me all this shit about my wife leaving the country, then this accusation she was involved with the Toldson murder! You better have more proof than some office gossip to back that up!" My eyes were boring holes into his head.

"We're still working that case, Mr. Cannela. Now that your wife has fled the country, our suspicions about her involvement in the murder has increased." He paused for a long second. "There was evidence at the crime scene that the murder was more than just a mob hit for money. The attack on Toldson's body indicated there was a sexual angle to the murder. Toldson was tortured and beaten for several hours before he was strangled. Prior to the strangulation, he was castrated. We found his penis and testicles shoved in his mouth."

I made a small laughing sound as I responded. "And you think my petite wife did all that? She can hardly open a pickle jar let alone strangle anyone. Your accusations seem to be getting more ridiculous every time you open your mouth." I wanted to sound like I was getting pissed at Dt. Bacton.

"Maybe so, Mr. Cannela. But, all the evidence so far points to your wife's involvement. She may have had someone else helping her." He paused, wet his lips.

"And you think I was that other person?!?" I shot back at him before he said another word.

"We thought you might have been involved, but you had a solid alibi for the time of the murder." His voice was not convincing.

"OK, let me get this straight. You come here today, tell me you haven't found my wife but you believe she left the country because she was involved in a murder. You also implied that I was a likely suspect in helping her with that murder." I paused as shot a glaring look directly at him. "Now, did I get all of that correct...detective?!?"

He just sat there, looking back at me trying to determine if my indignation was just false bravado.

"Is there anything else, detective?" I said with a hint of scorn in my voice. "If not, then this meeting is over." I stood up from behind my desk and moved toward the closed door. I opened the door to indicate it was time for him to leave. Dt. Bacton got up from his chair and moved slowly to the door.

"Thank you for your time, Mr. Cannela. I'll keep you informed about your wife's disappearance." He didn't extend his hand, I didn't offer mine.

I closed the door after the detective left and settled back in my swivel chair. I was sure Dt. Bacton's visit was intended to find out more information than to give me any substantial information about the two cases. I slowly mulled over every statement he made and every question he asked. It was certain he felt I may have been involved in either or both of the cases he was handling. Yet, my alibis were solid. I was playing poker on the Thursday night Robert Toldson was murdered. And I was in meetings all day last Friday when Janet went missing.

It was Saturday morning. Two weeks after Janet's disappearance. I had heard nothing from either Carlos or Carmine. I had no idea where Janet was or what was happening to her over these past two weeks. There were several times when I got the distinct feeling I was being followed when I went to work in the morning and when I came home at night.

My movements were very carefully planned. To work, back to home and some grocery shopping on the way home. Nothing which could be taken as an evasive move or the actions of someone trying to hide something. I called Dt. Bacton every other day to inquire about my missing wife. He had nothing new to report. The Brazilian police had not found any evidence of Janet after her arrival in Rio.

I called Domino's for a pizza that afternoon as I sat around watching some college football on TV. The door bell rang and the pizza delivery guy was standing there with my hot pizza. I paid him and gave him a couple of bucks for a tip. As I opened the pizza box in the kitchen, there was an envelope sitting on top of the pizza. I opened the envelope and pulled out the sheet of paper.

"Tomorrow morning dress for church. Go to the 10:00 Mass at St. Peter's. During communion, slip out the side door on the east side of the church. There will be a dark Ford Crown Victoria waiting outside. Get in."

I held the sheet of paper in my hand knowing this was to be a last meeting with Janet before Carlos shipped her out of the country. He had waited the two weeks to insure the cover plan of Janet flying out of the country was well documented and it was all the evidence the police had to work on.

It was an elaborate deception set up by Carlos to send the investigation in the wrong direction. It also established the fact that Janet was alive when she boarded the plane to Rio. That way the police could not try to make a circumstantial case of me doing away with Janet even though there was no body to be found.

The bedroom was pitch black as I stared up at the ceiling. This past month and a half had been a living nightmare for me. After receiving that email, the chain of events which occurred reminded me that my ancestral roots would always bring out a dark side of my personality whenever I was disrespected by anyone. "Nature or Nurture" There was no doubt in my mind where my dark side came from.

St. Peter's is a very large church. The 10:00 Mass is highly attended by several hundred parishioners. It was easy to get lost in that crowd and to spot if anyone was following me. If the police had a tail on me, they must have waited outside the church. As the throng of people moved to the front of the church for communion, I quickly slipped out the side door. The dark Ford sedan was waiting with the motor running. I got into the back seat as the car roared off into the busy street.

The trip took about ten minutes before the big sedan pulled up in front of a large warehouse building. The driver never turned around, he just told me to enter the building through the side door.