Johnny’s attorney, Orlando Mendelbaum, said that Johnny would admit to killing his father with the knife in self-defense. “He thought he was going to die.”

Yes, both Johnny and Betsy said they killed Peter Kandinsky with the knife from the kitchen.

Different stories, so which one would the jury believe? But would it matter? They were both charged with murder—who held the knife, well, that wasn’t legally relevant if they both planned it together. . . .

The trial ground on. Experts came and went. Police officers, detectives, forensics, the state medical examiner, etc.

Johnny took the stand first and was questioned by Alfred, the prissy prosecutor. “Where did you meet Betsy Baturra . . . How long have you dated . . . Are you in love . . . What did you do together. . . When did your father meet her? Did your father like her? Why or why not? Did she like him?”

“My father didn’t like Betsy because he doesn’t like any women.”

“What about your mother?”

“He hated my mother because she wanted to leave him. My mother did not run off with her lover. She did not have a lover. You lied about that. She wanted to take Tilly and me and move away from my father, back to Mexico. My father couldn’t accept that. My mother was beautiful, and she was his possession.” Then Johnny took a breath, his hands in fists, his jaw tight. “I believe my father killed my mother.”

That brought the entire courtroom to a screeching halt. For a moment, no one moved, then it was chaos. Only Betsy wasn’t surprised. Johnny had told her a few months after they started dating that he thought his father killed his mother two years ago, when they were in Idaho, that he hadn’t been able to figure it out when he was fifteen, that he couldn’t believe it, he was too scared to believe it, but he knew the truth now. What Betsy didn’t know was that Johnny was going to bring it up at trial.

Alfred was stunned down to his perfectly folded white handkerchief. This had not been revealed to him! He had been told by one of Peter’s partners in the used car business that Peter’s wife had left the family, run off with her lover!

Even Betsy and Johnny’s attorneys looked stunned. They had not heard that part.

The judge pounded his gavel.

“Move to strike!” the prosecuting attorney yelled, his dainty hands moving through the air like axes. He loved that he got to make a dramatic gesture! “Move to strike!”

“It’s relevant to the case,” Orlando stood and said. “Johnny and Betsy were defending themselves, obviously, from a man with a violent past—”

“You have no proof that your father killed your mother,” the prosecutor breathed, his face red as he pointed at Johnny, making sure his perfect profile was to the press. Hopefully they’d take a photo! “None.”