The Wife Who Knew Too Much

by Michele Campbell

  “That may be for some reason that has nothing to do with your case. But if it does have to do with your case, it would be important to know, and we’re going to cover that. Rest assured that anything you say to me in the course of this representation is confidential. Do you understand?”

  “Yes.”

  “First, I want to make sure you understand the charges against you. DA Neely gave me a copy of the criminal complaint. Let’s review the evidence they have against you, before I ask you for your side of the story, okay? It’s important for you to know where you stand before saying anything.”

  She took a paper from her briefcase and held it so I could see. The first shock was the title. “People of the State of New York v. Tabitha Ford.” Me, charged with a crime in New York State. But it was the next part that knocked me over. The charge. Murder in the second degree.

  Murder.

  I had to reach for the bars and steady myself.

  “Are you all right?” Suzanne asked.

  “I’m sorry. I’m five months pregnant, and I get faint sometimes.”

  “Oh. Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. It’s hard to be happy about it under present circumstances.”

  “I understand. It’s good you told me about the pregnancy, though. I can use it to our advantage in the bail hearing. It may not get you out, but I can ask for Bedford Hills over Rikers. It’s a much better facility, meant for female prisoners, with better medical care.”

  “You mean I might not get bail?”

  I started to cry. She handed me a Kleenex.

  “Tabitha, I know this is hard. But you have to focus and face facts. I need your help to defend you.”

  I nodded, pressing the Kleenex to my eyes.

  “Are you sure it’s okay to say I’m pregnant? Won’t they use it against me?”

  “Five months pregnant, you said?”

  “Yes.”

  “In other words, your relationship with your husband began prior to Nina Levitt’s death?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, yes, that could be used against you. Let’s hold off on telling them for now, until we figure out our approach to the case and to bail. Getting back to the complaint, as you know, Nina Levitt’s death was originally ruled a suicide. It’s unusual for the ME to reopen a case after ruling on it, but the police presented new evidence to the ME.”

  “What evidence?”

  I leaned forward, wringing my hands. As shaken as I’d been by the events of the last twelve hours, I’d still held out a faint hope that Nina had actually killed herself. The alternative was terrible to contemplate—that Connor was a murderer.

  “Barry Ogilvy—the doctor who testified that Mrs. Levitt had terminal cancer—was arrested for trading opioid prescriptions for sex and cash. He’s in jail now, and he’s cooperating with the police in exchange for a reduced sentence. He now claims he was bribed into making that statement about Nina Levitt, and that in fact she was never his patient.”

  “Who bribed him? Do they say? Was it Connor?”

  “They don’t name names in the complaint, which at least tells us it wasn’t you. If they had Ogilvy saying you were the one who bribed him, they’d say so. That would be very damning evidence.”

  “It wasn’t me. I can promise you that. Whoever bribed him was behind Nina’s murder, right? And I’m innocent of that.”

  “Okay, let’s put your guilt or innocence to one side. We’re going to plead you not guilty at this appearance. It’s about gauging the strength of their case.”

  “But can you ask if it was Connor? I need to know if he’s involved.”

  “They’re not going to tell me that. If they had enough to arrest your husband, they’d do it. He’s not named in the complaint. My guess is, their investigation against him is ongoing. I think they’re trying to shake you down and get you talking against him. Based on this complaint, they don’t have a viable murder case against you—”

  “Thank God,” I said, collapsing back against the wall. “Then you can get me out, right?”

  “No. Tabitha. Please, let me say my piece without interruption, okay? This is not a good situation for you. They may not have a murder case, but they do have a viable murder conspiracy case, and the punishment is the same.”

  I snapped forward. “What? How is that possible?”

  “The complaint puts you at Windswept on the night of the murder, accompanied by your ex-husband, Derek Cassidy, who was arrested that night for assaulting a security guard. It also states that you each have a prior conviction for distribution of oxycodone. Oxycodone was found in the tox screen performed during Nina Levitt’s autopsy, in an amount about ten times the recommended dosage. It was enough to kill her even if she hadn’t drowned.”

  My words came out in a rush.

  “Okay, look. I was there, but I can explain everything. I’d just found out I was pregnant. I was trying to tell Connor, but he wouldn’t take my calls. I knew he was at Windswept, and I went there to find him. Derek followed me. He’d done it before. He was stalking me. I can prove that. I called the police on him. There’s got to be a report. I didn’t even know he was behind me until he started fighting with Steve Kovacs—”

  “Kovacs?”

  “The security guard. He works for Connor. And that drug arrest—it was Derek’s. I was just in the car. I didn’t even know the drugs were there. I took the plea because my lawyer said it was the best I could do. A misdemeanor, no jail time. Otherwise they’d charge me with a felony, and I might lose. You understand, right? You believe me?”

  “On the drug charge, the fact that you took the plea—I’m afraid that leaves us limited room to maneuver.”

  “Okay, I get that. Taking the plea was a terrible mistake. It’s been following me around forever. But that’s the truth. And you have to believe me, I was there to talk to Connor that night, not to hurt Nina. I never even met her. Seeing her across the terrace was the closest I ever got. Please, Suzanne. Tell me you believe me.”

  She reached through the bars and patted my hand.

  “Tabitha, please, try to calm down. We need our wits about us. My job is not to believe or disbelieve, but to help you do what’s best for yourself and your case. I have to be honest. This looks very bad for you. If by any chance you’re not being truthful—and especially, if Dr. Ogilvy could say you were the individual who bribed him—”

  “No. Absolutely not. Unless he’s been double-bribed to say that.”

  “Okay, then. I’ll take your word on that. And on the drug charge. I believe you didn’t know about your ex-husband’s drugs, and yet, that doesn’t really matter. You took the plea. They plan to use it to argue Nina OD’d on the same substance at issue in your prior conviction. I can ask to have your prior kept out, and it’s possible I would win. Prior convictions are almost never admissible. This one is six years old, and a misdemeanor. On the other hand, this is not your usual instance of the DA trying to admit a prior just to dirty you up. It’s not ‘Tabitha Ford is a proven criminal.’ It’s ‘Tabitha Ford had access to the type of drugs used in this murder.’ This prior has a special relevance, even more so because your ex-husband was there that night. I understand he’s currently incarcerated?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is there anything you’d like to tell me about him?”

  “Like what?”

  “Do you have an ongoing relationship? Was he somehow involved in this crime in a way you’re not disclosing? I can’t defend you if I don’t know the facts.”

  “Maybe I didn’t explain clearly. Derek ruined my life. He was dealing drugs without telling me, and he got me arrested. I divorced him. The only reason he was at Windswept that night is because he was stalking me. I want nothing to do with him, for the rest of my life.”

  “Got it. That simplifies things. But your association with him is still damaging to your case. The prosecution will try to introduce evidence of his prior drug conviction and his presence at the house that night.”

&n
bsp; “But why would I want Derek there? I hate Derek.”

  “They might try to argue that he supplied the drugs you used to kill Nina—”

  “I didn’t kill her.”

  “I’m not saying you did, but they are saying that, Tabitha. That’s what you need to understand. And your prior drug conviction works against you. You can’t just assume that, because you’re innocent, the charges won’t stick. When things look bad, that can sway a jury’s opinion, even if it’s unfair.”

  “That’s what my lawyer said the last time. That’s why I pleaded guilty to something I didn’t do, and I’m not going down that path again.”

  “I would never ask you to do that. Look, I’m going to make a suggestion. The DA, Brad Neely, expressed interest in having you proffer.”

  “What’s that?”

  “It means he wants to sit down and interview you—with me present, of course. They think Nina Levitt was murdered. You and your husband are the obvious suspects. My read is, they don’t have enough to arrest your husband, so they picked you up first, hoping they could flip you on him.”

  “I won’t lie about Connor to please them.”

  “Nobody’s asking you to lie.”

  “Yes, they are, because I don’t know anything. I told the cops that last night. If Connor killed Nina, he didn’t tell me about it.”

  “What if we agree to an initial listening session? We postpone the bail hearing and sit down with the prosecution just to see what we can find out about their case against you.”

  “Can we do that?”

  “We can try. We let them make a pitch for you to cooperate, and I use that opportunity to ask questions. Before you say anything substantive, we break for a consultation. Then you and I can decide if it’s going to be fruitful or not. If not, we haven’t lost anything. But if their case against you looks strong, giving evidence against Connor may be your only option. I know that’s tough to hear. But you need to think of your child.”

  Think of my child. That’s what I’d been doing when I plunged headfirst into a marriage with a man I really didn’t know. And look where it had gotten me.

  33

  Later that afternoon, Detectives Hagerty and Pardo escorted me to a conference room on an upper floor of the courthouse, where my lawyer and the DA were waiting. The DA, Brad Neely, was a fortyish guy in a dark suit with heavy five-o’clock shadow. Gulping from a coffee cup as I entered, he stood up and shook my manacled hand.

  “Mrs. Ford, thank you for agreeing to meet with us,” he said, ducking his head in greeting. “Please, make yourself comfortable. Detective, could you please remove her handcuffs? Thank you.”

  I sat across from him, with my lawyer beside me.

  “Can I offer either of you ladies a cup of coffee?” Neely said.

  I’d been expecting coldness and hostility. His courteous attitude had the effect of lowering my guard. That could be a ploy, just like the good cop/bad cop routine the detectives had pulled in the car last night. In my exhausted state, I wasn’t confident that I could avoid getting played. I’d sworn off caffeine because of the baby, but my screwing up here today would hurt her more than a cup of coffee ever could.

  “Yes, thank you. With milk, please.”

  Neely called somebody to bring the coffee. In the meantime, he reviewed the agreement where they promised not to use anything I said today against me in court. The only exception was if I took the stand at trial. If I had to take the stand at my murder trial, this interview would be the least of my worries.

  “That’s fine with me. I’ll sign the paper,” I said.

  He handed me a pen. The coffee came. It was hot and strong, and in combination with the utter terror coursing through my veins, had the effect of focusing my mind. I listened intently as Neely spoke.

  “Your lawyer, Ms. Cohen, tells me that you’re on the fence about cooperating against your husband. I get it. It’s a tough decision. I’m married myself,” he said, flashing the gold band on his ring finger. “For now, all we’re seeking is information. You might not ever have to testify against Mr. Ford in court, because of the marital privilege.”

  “Or, you might,” Suzanne said. “Sometimes, the marital privilege doesn’t apply. The judge decides. Let’s just be clear, Brad. You can’t promise her she won’t have to testify against him.”

  “That’s true. But for now, all we want is information, and anything you tell us is confidential. Your husband won’t find out we had this conversation unless you tell him yourself. And, by the way, if you’re afraid of him—”

  “Afraid of Connor, you mean? Not my ex-husband?”

  “Your ex-husband? You’re referring to—” He consulted a notepad that lay on the table in front of him. “—Derek Cassidy?”

  I nodded. “I am afraid of Derek.”

  “My notes indicate that Mr. Cassidy is currently incarcerated on an assault charge stemming from an incident that took place at Windswept the night Nina Levitt died. He was there.”

  “Yes, but I don’t know anything about Derek’s case. How long he’s in for. When he might get out. If I’m going to talk to you, I’ll have to speak against Derek. That scares me. He scares me. Connor doesn’t.”

  “Okay, why is that? Are you saying Derek—no, wait a minute, I don’t want to get ahead of ourselves. Let me just assure you that if you have a specific security concern, we have the resources to protect you, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  “Now. Ms. Cohen has asked me to give an overview of the evidence against you to help you decide whether to proceed with your cooperation. That isn’t something I would normally do. But I’m willing to do it in this case, for a couple of reasons. One, this is blowing up in the press even as we speak.”

  “You know that’s all orchestrated by Kara Baxter, right?”

  “Who?”

  “Kara Baxter. She says she’s Nina Levitt’s sister. We don’t even know if that’s true, but she’s after the money. She sued Connor for the estate, and the only way she can win is by proving he killed Nina. She got the tabloids to say he did by granting exclusive interviews. Now that they printed it, you guys are falling in line, trying to lock him up.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “Connor did.”

  “I don’t know whether he’s trying to snow you, or if he genuinely believes that. But I assure you, Ms. Baxter’s lawsuit has nothing to do with our case. The information that led us to reopen the case came from Barry Ogilvy, the doctor who testified at the inquest. He got caught in a federal sting operation, trading opiates for sex. That obviously undermined his testimony. So, we brought him in, and he had quite a story to tell. A young woman visited his office and bribed him to say those things about Nina Levitt.”

  “A—a young woman?” I said, shocked.

  I sat back in the chair, feeling faintly sick. Neely’s eyes were locked on my face.

  “Yes. Was that young woman you, by any chance, Tabitha?” he asked.

  “Did he say it was me?”

  “Answer the question, please.”

  “Hold on one minute,” Suzanne said.

  “No! Absolutely not, it wasn’t me. Did you ask the doctor who she was?”

  “We did. He gave us her name, and we couldn’t associate it with a legitimate identity. In other words, the name was fake. She used an alias.”

  “Show him my picture, then. It wasn’t me, I swear. Did he say what she looked like?”

  “He said she had dark hair, and I note your hair is blond.”

  “Dark hair. Okay, then. That could be a couple of people I can think of. But it’s not me. You believe me, right?”

  “A woman smart enough to use an alias would probably think to wear a wig.”

  I threw up my hands. “I don’t know what to say. Put me in a lineup, then. It wasn’t me.”

  Suzanne put her hand on my shoulder and leaned forward.

  “Tabitha, stop talking. For the record, Brad, we don’t agree to a lineup.”

  “Y
ou don’t have to agree,” he said. “She doesn’t have a Fifth Amendment right to refuse a lineup. I think it’s a brilliant idea.”

  “I need to speak to my client alone, please,” Suzanne said.

  “Fine. We’ll be outside. Knock when you’re done.”

  The DA and the detectives left the room, closing the door behind them. When we were alone, Suzanne turned on me with a troubled expression.

  “Tabitha, what are you doing? We agreed that we’re here to get information, not give it. You can’t just go running off at the mouth like that—”

  “Suzanne, you don’t understand. What Neely just said is huge. The woman who bribed the doctor? That wasn’t me, I swear to you. Who was it?”

  “I don’t know. Who do you think it was?”

  “I don’t know either, but whoever it was killed Nina. Maybe working with Connor, maybe not. There were two dark-haired women in Nina’s life. Lauren Berman, the head of PR at Levitt Global. She had a motive. Her husband left her for Nina, then she had an affair with Connor, and he left her for Nina, too. There’s Juliet Davis, Nina’s personal assistant. Whether she had a motive, I don’t know. But she was around constantly, in the middle of everything. Actually, there’s a third dark-haired woman. Nina’s yoga teacher, Dawn something. I only met her once in passing, but people say she’s a real whackjob. We have to tell the DA.”

  “I explained the rules earlier. This session is for us to get information. We’re not telling the DA anything yet. You understand? We don’t just blurt things here. That’s not smart. You’ve been arrested on a murder charge. You. Not Lauren, not Juliet, not— Who was the third one?”

  “Dawn. The yoga teacher.”

  “Whatever. You’re in a very difficult position, and we need to proceed with caution. After the interview, I’ll follow up. I’ll research these women. Figure out if that’s information we want to trade. But only if we get something in return. You need to keep quiet and let me do the talking. Do you understand?”

  “Yes. I’m sorry, you’re right.”

  “Promise you won’t say anything more without clearing it with me first. Otherwise, I’ll end this session right now. I can’t sit here and let you dig yourself into a hole.”