My name is Otto Klein. As the owner of several waste management companies, I am known as the Garbage King. I was married to Janet Carson; she was a lawyer and had kept her maiden name for her professional life.

Evidently, her whole life is professional since she made no effort to present herself in social settings with anything other than her maiden name. My occupation in waste management was fine with her when I was paying for her expensive law school costs. She decided to go to law school after several years of working as a paralegal and realized she was as sharp as most of the lawyers she worked for.

Even though I own several successful companies and make more money than most of the godlike barristers she worked with, Janet started looking down on me as second-class soon after she got a job with a law firm. When the late nights diminished intimacy and increased disrespect spiked over several weeks, I suspected she had started an affair. Since gods don't mate with common folk, I assumed she was seeing one or more of her fellow lawyers.

I quickly decided I needed to get proof—proof that would withstand legal scrutiny. If I had just divorced her, she would have gotten half of my business and considerable wealth. If I could get proof of her infidelity with another of her lawyers, I could probably sue her agency.

The law firm would probably pay quite a bit to avoid the embarrassment and possible loss of clients; therefore, I might make enough to compensate for what I would have to give her in divorce. My logic may have been faulty, but that's what it was at the time; that's what I based my actions on. Janet's office has an annual Christmas party every year.

Janet invites me, and every year, I decline. Until this year, she was shocked and immediately tried to come up with reasons for me to stay home. "There won't be anyone there for you to talk to, just a bunch of lawyers bragging about their billing hours.

Do you really want to sit and hear that all night? " I replied, "I don't care as long as I'm with you. " But what I was thinking was, "As long as I can keep an eye on you and see if I can figure out who your lover is.

" Almost every day before the party, Janet would mention another excuse I could give if I wanted to back out. I didn't fall for it. I told her I was looking forward to going to the party.

Even as she was getting ready the night of the gala event, she tried one last time. "I hate to see you have a miserable time. Are you sure you want to go?

" "Yes, dear," I replied. I knew her problem wasn't that my physical appearance was embarrassing to her. I have been told I am fairly handsome and in good shape, and my suit was Armani.

I was no slob; I just worked with garbage. She didn't like it when I said, "That's what she does too. " We got to the party with the second wave of people who were trying to be fashionably late.

Most tables were already full, but we soon found one near the dance floor where only one other couple had settled so far. We took our seats, and I offered to get drinks for Janet and myself. My first confrontation of the night occurred when I was standing in line to get our beverages.

A man who appeared to be one of the lawyers with the firm said, "I don't believe I've met you before. Who are you here with? " I answered, "My wife, Janet Carson Klein.

" "Janet? I didn't think she was still married," he replied. "Yeah, we've been married happily for 8 years.

" "Of course, we've been married for over 10 years," I said. He looked stunned for a second and then started laughing at what he assumed was a joke from me. That proved to me that truth is often funnier than fiction.

On more than one occasion, I overheard the "Garbage King" label used in conjunction with my nearby presence. Their comment was usually followed by snarky laughter. I was not really that upset; I had assumed correctly in the previous years how I would be treated by these snobs.

I was considered lower class if not gutter-level scum. I watched as Janet mingled with various lawyers, paralegals, secretaries, and their spouses or dates for the evening. At the table, she spoke politely with the others seated with us during the meal.

When the dancing started, I decided to give it a try. I asked my wife to dance. She looked like she could barely tolerate being seen with me.

I didn't care. I tried to dominate the slow dances, but before long, I was cut in on several times. Then she managed to accept several invitations from other lawyers for both fast and slow dances.

I gave up and just sat back so I could watch her even more closely. It was about an hour after the dancing started that a middle-aged, distinguished-looking man came up to our table. He only looked at Janet; unlike most others, he did not ask my permission.

He was claiming her more than asking her to dance. Janet's face lit up when she saw him. She eagerly accepted and stood up without ever looking at me for my approval.

I thought we may have a winner. My focus was totally on them as I observed them dance a slow dance. There was enough in her body language to feed my suspicion but nothing overt enough to warrant a picture that would be damning.

So, was my hunch sufficient as proof of their being lovers? No, luckily I had another source of information—an unusual source of information I had never told Janet that I had been recruited. Out of college, the CIA found out that I had a highly accurate skill in reading lips.

I had several successful covert missions and was being trained in lip reading a Middle Eastern foreign language. My time in the CIA, however, did not last long as one of those infamous whistleblowers blew my cover along with everyone else in my section. I was not interested in a desk job, so I left the company.

I stood up and positioned myself so I could see what Janet was saying to her dance partner. I was not able to see his face from in front most of the time. This is what I saw: Janet: Did you get the room for tonight?

M: Room 322? Janet: Did you put. .

. ? M: Yes, I just put it in his drink a few minutes ago.

M: It shouldn't take. . .

Janet: I can't believe you plan for us to make love in the same room my husband is sleeping in. That is so naughty and dangerous. M: You love the pretend you don't.

Janet: Are you sure he won't wake up too soon? M: Don't. Plenty of.

. . Janet: Are you still.

. . ?

Janet: Don't worry about me. If I promised you, you'll get it. M: Oh Stanley, I am so ready.

That was enough for me. I immediately spilled the rest of the drink on myself and the table. I excused myself and took off toward the restrooms.

I passed the restroom and headed for the exit. I was hoping either I had not taken enough of the drug to be affected yet or it was not that strong of a dosage. I was wrong on both counts.

Beeping monitors, bright lights, and alcohol smells were my greeting back to consciousness. It appears I had a car wreck when I fell asleep at the wheel driving home from the party. I looked around and saw a nurse.

I was about to ask her a question when I saw Janet come into the room. I immediately sat up and yelled, "Get that out of here! " Janet ran out of the room.

Once she left, I was still yelling, "She's the one who almost got me killed! I want to talk to a policeman now! " The nurse tried to calm me down.

The medical staff assumed I was having some kind of psychotic episode. I calmed down and told them, "I'll try to explain this in terms you can understand. I will sue you personally and the hospital in general if you do not get a policeman here in the next 15 minutes.

I have been drugged; do a toxic screen for liquid Benadryl and other knockout drugs. I think my wife and her lover almost got me killed. " I exaggerated what I knew of the situation, but it worked.

Within 15 minutes, a police officer was taking my statement. I had overheard my wife and her lover talking about drugging me and taking my body off somewhere so they could be intimate. I didn't mention that I heard by lip-reading.

I figured drugging and attempted kidnapping ought to stir some action. I was told I needed to come to the police station after I left the hospital to swear out a complaint. I told them I would unless I got kidnapped or killed by them.

When I left the hospital, the officer didn't seem particularly concerned for my safety. While I waited to be discharged, a nurse came in to tell me the results of the toxicology report. I had been drugged big time.

In fact, based on the amount of drugs I had in my system, if I had drunk the full glass, it would likely have killed me. The hospital staff had already reported that to the police. Before long, there was a policeman stationed outside my door, and the second officer who interviewed me was more serious in her interest.

I went to my house when I was discharged the next day. A police car passed my house on a regular basis. However, I was not in danger.

Janet was not in our house; just all her stuff was. I found out that Janet had been arrested earlier at our house. She and her lover had come here in hopes of convincing me to not tell the law firm about their scheduled tryst in the hotel.

That was the only crime they thought they had committed. She and Stanley were charged, however, with attempted murder. I imagine she collapsed when she heard the charge as the police put her in handcuffs.

The two lawyers, as you might expect, refused to speak without another lawyer. The district attorney wanted to try the two separately. He thought if Janet saw she was going to be convicted, she would testify against Stanley, her lover and a junior partner with the firm.

The DA was not successful, the two cases were intertwined, so they would be tried together. Janet tried to talk to me before the trial. She left messages regarding her innocence and trying to kill me.

I guess she didn't think cheating on me mattered since she didn't bother apologizing for that. I ignored the rest of her messages. I quickly withdrew all funds out of our joint accounts and cut all the other financial umbilical cords she was attached to.

Her father had to pay her lawyer until her lawyer eventually forced me to return her half. At their trial, the toxicology report of the drugs in my system was the chief evidence. There was a forensic chemist expert in poisonings, knockout drugs, and date rape drugs who told me the scientific name of the drug I was given and the danger I would have been in had I drunk the whole amount.

I was the star witness. Lip-reading accuracy, particularly my lip-reading ability, was the main issue. For the defense regarding my testimony, how could I possibly be so sure of what I saw?

Most lip readers perform at just above 50% accuracy. I had several CIA staff testify as to my proficiency being above average. I even gave a demonstration to the court.

The defense's attorney next tried to offer an alternative theory of what happened with the claim that I had actually drugged myself in order to accuse My Wife and Her Lover of attempted murder. If convicted, I would be assured I would get all the assets in the divorce plus a nice settlement from a lawsuit against the law firm. In truth, I wish I had been capable of being that devious.

The judge was not impressed by how I expressed in open court how stupid I considered the claim of the defense attorney. When the defense had their turn, neither Janet nor Stanley testified. They had another forensic chemist testify that the drug would likely not have killed me.

They had a sign language expert testify as to the general inaccuracy of lip reading. I loved it when my lawyer asked him if some lip readers were more accurate than others. He said of course.

Then he was asked if he ever saw me to determine how accurate I was. He had to admit he hadn't. The only other witness was a police officer, Sergeant Haskins, who had interviewed the people who shared our table at the party.

He testified that no one at the table had reported they had seen my wife put anything in my drink. The defense rested. The defense's conclusion: no one saw Stanley give Janet any powder, no one saw Janet put anything into my drink, there was no proof I had not done it myself.

As soon as the police officer finished testifying, an older lady in the gallery kept trying to get the District Attorney's attention. It was causing a disruption, so the district attorney sent an assistant to see what she was so upset about. The assistant hurried back and said, "Recess now.

" The DA asked for and got a 15-minute recess. As the district attorney went back to talk to the lady, I happened to look over at Janet and she seemed horrified at seeing the woman. She immediately started a strained conversation with her lawyer.

The district attorney came back after the recess and requested that a rebuttal witness be allowed to testify. He was asked whose testimony was being rebutted. Police Officer H.

Haskins. Janet prodded her lawyer to speak. "Your Honor, I am requesting another recess in which time I will be presenting a change in plea by my client.

" Stanley and his lawyer went crazy. The word was used several times in the conference. Janet and her lawyers said she would agree to a guilty plea and a 3 to 5 year sentence in return for testifying against Stanley.

The district attorney agreed. The old lady had told the district attorney that the police officer had asked her if she had seen Janet put knockout powder in my drink. He didn't ask if Janet put anything in my drink.

So she said no to the knockout drug question. He did not ask her another question. The lady related that she had seen Janet put something in my drink.

Janet had told her that it was medicine that would lessen the hangover that I supposedly always got from drinking too much. She said no to it being knockout drugs because she thought it was hangover medicine. It took several months more for Janet's guilty plea and sentence to be announced.

Stanley got a new trial which featured Janet as the chief witness. She described in detail how Stanley had pursued her and begun their affair. She swore she only wanted to deceive me and that Stanley had determined the drug and the amount.

Stanley countered that he had only done what Janet asked him to do and that she had purposefully given me too much of the drug knowing the likely deadly consequences. Stanley's lawyer therefore proposed a new theory: Janet had seduced him and planned all along to frame Stanley and kill me. That way she would be rid of a husband who would leave a nice inheritance and get rid of a lover whose position as a junior partner would most likely go to her.

My car crash messed up her plan. Stanley cried at the thought that he might be capable of harming another human being. The bottom line was that the jury believed Janet more than Stanley.

He was convicted and sentenced to 10 to 15 years in prison. I was allowed to testify at his sentencing hearing. I said with tears in my eyes, "I should not be here today.

I should be buried in a grave in Riverside Cemetery instead of sitting in that padded chair. My wife's lover should be standing beside my grave helping my wife celebrate their successful disposal of the garbage man. She should have inherited a lot of money.

She should be out spending my money with her lover and fellow assassin. Don't be fooled—neither one of them is upset I almost died. They are upset that I didn't die and got caught.

It was my special talent in lip reading that saved my life. I had already drunk about 1/4 of the drink my wife doctored with drugs obtained from her lover when I learned it had been messed with. The amount I did consume was enough to cause me to pass out and crash my car into some bushes.

If I had hit a nearby tree, I would probably be dead. Tests for the drugs in my system showed that if I had drunk the entire drink, I would have died as my wife and her lover danced their brains out in the same room that I was dying in. My wife and her lover say that.

" They only intended to drug me and humiliate me. They both say she mistakenly gave me what should have been a deadly dose of drugs. Even if that were to be true, do they just get to say oops and get a slap on the wrist?

I don't think so, but I don't guess my opinion should matter. You see, I'm supposed to be dead. As I said, Stanley got 10 to 15, and Janet got 3 to 5.

Janet shouted to me that she was sorry as they were taking her out of the courtroom after Stanley's sentence was announced. I responded, "Read my lips, I don't care. " The divorce was easy with Janet in jail.

She didn't contest anything. Anyway, I think she was actually ashamed of what she did and what almost happened to me. I wound up unintentionally getting what the defense lawyer said I intended to: all the assets from my marriage.

After considerable haggling with the law firm and Stanley lawsuit settlements, I was already rich. I became richer since I am in Waste Management. You can say I am filthy rich.

It was amazing to me how many women, in the months after the trial, wanted to audition for the now vacant position of garbage Queen. Not surprisingly, none of those interested were female lawyers. And that's the end of today's story.

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