Blindfold of Justice
by
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How long the mother-child fantasy endured neither could say. As was always the case, at some point their physical reactions set in; slowly at first, then building in intensity. Always, it was Mary who changed identity. A new identity, a queen-peasant, master-slave relationship flared up, and then Mary raped Peter. She ripped off his clothes as he moaned in real ecstasy. She snarled her virility as he surrendered to her completely. How many times she reached a climax, she never knew; but gradually, satiation brought reality, and reality brought shame and guilt, which in turn gave birth to anger and frustration. Peter, deeply embarrassed, showed humiliation and emotional castration in his every movement as he hurriedly dressed in silence. Mary stared stonily at him, hatred in her eyes. Feeling her stare, he sloshed more vodka into the martini pitcher, and offered her a drink, his eyes beseeching forgiveness. She accepted the drink, automatically and silently, as he mixed another for himself. Minutes passed. At last, Peter, with a remnant of courage resurrected by the vodka, asked, "How did they treat you in Castaic?" The question penetrated Mary’s dream-like trance. She suddenly looked at Peter, as if aware of his presence for the first time. Then she laughed - brutally and sadistically. This was the moment for which she had waited so long. To tell him face-to-face just how she felt about him. Now was the time she could exact revenge for all the days and nights he had spent with his whores. But above all, for his part in forcing her into marriage with that -- that - -man. All of the outrages to which her body had been subjected during that vile estate of marriage. All of the emotional tortures occasioned by his breaking away from their God-given, mother-child, brother-sister love. Everything would now be avenged! "Why," she said, her voice bordering on hysteria, "they treated me very nicely. Almost as well as you and my husband treated me. Almost with the same concern you always show toward my welfare." Peter was through, he couldn’t go any further. Let Flaherty find out some other way. Mary was getting dangerous. He had seen her like this before, during those times when she was very, very upset. It had first happened when they were quite young, but more often in recent years. Any moment now, on the slightest pretext, she would attack him with a weapon or throw something at him. She would pick up a knife and try to kill him; rake him with her fingernails; anything to maim and mutilate. "Well," Peter stood up unsteadily, "I’m glad it wasn’t too bad, and that it’s all over. I’m sorry if it was on my account, but," he was edging his way toward the door, "I really had nothing to do with it." Mary was laughing. "No, no, of course not, Peter, you had nothing to do with it. But don’t you see? That’s the funny part; all the things you did do, you got away with scot-free. Now, finally, you are blameless; you didn’t kill Marcia, but you are going to be blamed, and you are going pay the price for everything." Mary choked on her laughter, coughing hard. Peter stood still, shock registering on his face. "But why, - -how?" "Oh you stupid ass, don’t you see? I know you had nothing to do with Marcia’s murder. But at Castaic they told me you had killed Marcia, and I agreed with them." "You what?" "Oh yes, I agreed with them. I told them that I knew you had killed Marcia. I knew because I was there, and I saw you do it. I saw you kill her, and run like a rabbit leaving me to clean up the mess. That’s what I told them." Peter, eyes glazed with liquor and shock, stared in horrified wonder, mouth agape. "I told them that’s where I got your gun - you know, the gun you couldn’t find." "Mary," Peter fumbled, "you couldn’t have - - -"
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About the Book
In the late forties and early fifties, Beverly Hills was a small, conservative community with safe, tree lined streets, and was famous for movie stars and one lawyer - the fabled Jerry Geisler. This book is a fictionalized, but authentic, inside view of the workings of his office, and his world, seen through the eyes of his associate counsel. Everything is there, including allies and adversaries in the L.A.P.D., the Press, and the L.A. County District Attorney’s office. In those days, criminal cases were defended on the merits, not by invoking intellectually dishonest technicalities concerning police procedure. It was an honest, rock’em, sock’em, intellectual battle, and may the smartest, or luckiest, lawyer win. Here we have a rising star in a prestigious Beverly Hills law firm defending a wealthy playboy accused of the brutal slaying of his estranged wife. His adversary is a brilliant young prosecutor who wants the D.A.’s job, and will stop at nothing to get it. The resolution of this conflict involves forensic pathology, psychology, incest, drugs, and lots of dirty tricks by the police and both attorneys. To top it all off, the final courtroom scene takes place in a unique and unexpected venue.
About the Author
Eugene Kenway and his wife Minka Scott-Friedman attended college together at the University of California at Berkeley in the fifties. He majored in Geology, and she in Anthropology and English. Mr. Kenway became an exploration geologist for an oil company, a civil engineer for the FAA, and ultimately a lawyer who practiced in Beverly Hills for many years. Mr. Kenway, who now lives in the Palm Springs area, still takes the occasional case, and is presently at work on another novel to be called Worthiest of Blood. Blindfold of Justice is a truly gripping account of the dirty tricks used by the police, and by high-powered attorneys, as well as a suspense novel and murder mystery that is solved in the courtroom. Today’s police and attorneys can learn much from this book.