Overkill
What began as a simple flurry on an early December morning rapidly escalated into blizzard-like conditions. Temperatures along the Eastern Seaboard dropped dramatically, creating hazardous driving conditions in the upscale Connecticut community of Willowbrook and forcing many of the town's inhabitants to remain inside their homes.
MARGO: Damn it! Why did it have to snow today? I was so looking forward to a day at the spa.
MIDGE: I was more eager to go to the art gallery. They're opening a new exhibition on African tribal masks this week.
MAGGIE: You mean you actually pay attention to the exhibits when you go to the gallery. The only reason I would go there would be the free champagne they offer.
MIDGE: You'd go anywhere for free booze.
MAGGIE: You're damned right! That's the difference between me and you. You admire still life paintings of bottles of wine whereas I appreciate the real thing.
PEG: Me, I'd prefer a good cup of coffee to a glass of wine.
MAGGIE: Thanks for sharing, but I don't recall anyone asking for your opinion.
PEG: Sometimes you remind me of Rich. He doesn't care what I think about anything either.
MAGGIE: Please don't compare me to your loser of a husband! Honestly, I have no idea what you see in that stick-in-the-mud anyway.
MIDGE: Like your "Dickie" is any better.
MAGGIE: At least my husband can relax and have a good time once in a while. Rich seems to have a perpetual stick up his ass. Frankly, of the four of us, I think I did best in the husband department.
MIDGE: Is that why you're always complaining about him?
MAGGIE: We all complain about our husbands. Even Margo occasionally gets down from her high horse to bitch about her better half.
MARGO: I would hardly refer to John as my "better half."
PEG: He thinks he is.
MARGO: John barely got his degree from Charter Oak State College whereas I graduated summa cum laude from Princeton.
MAGGIE: We know! You never cease to remind us that you're the one with the brains.
PEG: Still, you have to admit John did well for himself, despite his lackluster academic record.
MIDGE: If you measure success by material objects. Personally, I don't need a six-bedroom house in Highview Estates, a brand new Mercedes or a closet full of designer clothes to make me happy.
MARGO: No, you would spend the money on a Picasso painting.
MIDGE: Picasso? Definitely not. I prefer Jackson Pollock or Gustav Klimt.
MAGGIE: As I always say, why Pollock or Klimt when you can have Johnnie Walker?
PEG: I've never heard of him. Is he an artist?
MAGGIE: One of the best. Whether it's his black, red, blue, green or gold label.
MIDGE: That's one thing I can say about you: you're not picky.
MARGO: And that goes for men as well as whisky.
MAGGIE: Wow! That was uncalled for.
MARGO: Actually, I envy your freedom.
PEG: What freedom? Maggie's a married woman, just like the rest of us.
MAGGIE: Not like you, I'm not. You're right out of The Stepford Wives.
PEG: Why? Because I don't want to go out partying or cheat on my husband?
MAGGIE: That, too. But mainly because you let him run your life. For that matter, so do the rest of you.
MIDGE: I'm my own woman; I'll have you know. J.R. is a Republican, but I always vote Democrat. Hell, he almost had a stroke when he learned I voted for Hillary.
MAGGIE: I'm not talking about politics. I'm referring to your lifelong desire to become an artist and the fact that J.R. won't allow you to open your own studio.
MIDGE: He said yes to the potter's wheel but no to the kiln. He's afraid I'll set the house on fire.
MARGO: I'm surprised he didn't suggest you satisfy your creative urges by modeling with Play-Do.
MARGE: Very funny! You're the last one who should talk. John doesn't let you have a career at all. What good is having a fancy Princeton education when all you do is organize dinner parties to impress your husband's business associates?
PEG: See, Maggie? My Rich isn't so bad, after all.
MAGGIE: Honey, he's the worst of all of them. He had a vasectomy so that you wouldn't get pregnant. Now, that wouldn't bother me in the least, but your heart's desire was to be a soccer mom.
MIDGE: Nice, Maggie. Now you've made her cry.
MAGGIE: I'm sorry. Honestly. Let's face facts, though; we'd all be better off getting a divorce.
PEG: Never. Unlike you, I take my marriage vows seriously.
MARGO: No divorce for me either. I didn't spend all those years with John to lose everything in a divorce settlement.
MIDGE: You wouldn't lose everything. Doesn't Connecticut have community property laws?
MARGO: No. It's an "equitable distribution" state. I know because I checked.
PEG: What's that mean?
MARGO: It means John doesn't have to give me half of what is now ours. I could wind up losing the house. Then where would that leave me? I don't have a job.
MAGGIE: At least that Princeton education would finally come in handy.
MIDGE: We're all in the same boat as Margo. Not one of us is employed.
PEG: I wouldn't even know how to go about getting a job. And what would I do?
MAGGIE: Since you're such a domestic diva, you could always be the next Martha Stewart. Margo can become a teacher, and Midge can sell homemade vases and flower pots at the flea market.
MIDGE: And what about you, Maggie? Are there any escort services hiring in the area?
MARGO: All right. Enough with the low blows!
MIDGE: I apologize. You know I didn't really mean that.
MAGGIE: Apology accepted. Still, I think we should give serious thought to divorce.
PEG: I wonder if it's going to snow all day.
MIDGE: Let's not get each other worked up. Remember what Dr. Holbein said.
MAGGIE: What does he know?
PEG: I hope Rich remembered to have his snow tires put on his car.
MAGGIE: What's she going on about snow tires for?
MIDGE: She obviously doesn't want to discuss the subject of divorce.
MARGO: Dr. Holbein—there's a colossal waste of money. I don't know why John insists I continue seeing him.
MAGGIE: If you were divorced, you could discontinue treatment.
PEG: The snow plows never do a good job clearing I-95.
MARGO: How many times do I have to say this? I'm never going to divorce John.
MIDGE: I'm with you. I'd sooner be a widow than a divorcee.
PEG: A widow? What are you saying?
MAGGIE: Well, look who's decided to rejoin the conversation.
MARGO: If John were to die and leave me a widow, I'd inherit everything.
MIDGE: Yeah, but he's a relatively young man. He could live another forty years or more.
MAGGIE: Forty years! You'll be too old to enjoy yourself.
MARGO: Alas, some people's lives are tragically cut short.
MIDGE: That's right. After all, John might have an accident.
MAGGIE: One can only hope.
MARGO: That's not true. Sometimes women have been known to be proactive in these situations.
MIDGE: Like Betty Broderick. Or, you could always pull a Pamela Smart and hire someone else to do the dirty work for you.
MAGGIE: I think you've been watching the ID channel too much.
PEG: How would you kill John? Cut the brake lines of his car and make it look like an accident?
MARGO: No. I'd use poison. Thanks to the chemistry classes I took in Princeton, I could use one of a dozen cleaning solutions to mix up a quick-acting toxic cocktail.
MIDGE: That's such an old-fashioned method. As a long-suffering artist, I'd want to be more creative. I'd use my plaster cast of Michelangelo's David to bash J.R.'s brains in.
MAGGIE: Somehow I can't imagine you ruining a perfectly good statue.
PEG: What about you, Maggie? How would you kill Dickie?
MAGGIE: I'd go into the kitchen, take my sharpest knife from the butcher block knife holder and stab him in the heart.
MIDGE: Wait! You know where the kitchen is? I'll be damned!
MAGGIE: Of course, I know where the kitchen is. I frequently go there to get ice out of the freezer.
MARGO: That leaves you, Peg. How would you kill your husband?
MAGGIE: She wouldn't dare. Isn't there something in the marriage vows that prohibits a wife from killing her husband?
PEG: Rich keeps a gun in the desk drawer of his study.
MIDGE: Typical Republican!
MARGO: You're saying you would actually shoot him?
PEG: Till death do us part, right? Once he's gone, I'd no longer be bound by my vows. I could marry again. Perhaps I'm not too old to have a child.
MIDGE: A child? You'd have to act fast then. Your biological clock is ticking.
MAGGIE: While this conversation has been an amusing way to pass a snowy afternoon, we really ought to change the subject before things go too far.
MARGO: Why? Aren't you serious about wanting to murder Dickie?
MIDGE: Yeah, Maggie. What happened about wanting to stab him through the heart?
PEG: She obviously doesn't want to kill him.
MAGGIE: That's what you think, Little Miss Suzie Homemaker. I'd do it today if I thought I would get away with it. But I don't want to trade a figurative prison for a real one made of concrete.
MIDGE: Is that all that's holding you back? The idea of going to jail?
MAGGIE: When a husband is killed—especially a rich one—the police always suspect the wife.
MIDGE: Even so, we'd never go to jail. We could always get off on an insanity plea.
MARGO: That's right. No doubt Dr. Holbein will vouch for our mental state.
PEG: Shhh. I thought I heard something. Was that a car in the driveway?
MIDGE: That's what it sounded like to me.
MAGGIE: It's about that time, isn't it?
MARGO: Yes, it is.
PEG: He's home.
MAGGIE: He's home.
MADGE: He's home.
MARGO: He's home.
* * *
Despite the icy road conditions, police quickly responded to a 911 call of shots being heard in the vicinity of the exclusive Highview Estates in Willowbrook, Connecticut. When the responding officers entered the stately mansion on Powder Mill Road, they discovered the body of John Richard Taney. After conducting their investigation, detectives took the victim's wife, Margaret Taney, into custody, charging her with her husband's murder. Not only was the woman known to go on occasional drinking binges, but she had also been under the care of renowned psychiatrist Dr. Samuel Holbein for dissociative identity disorder, often referred to as multiple personality disorder. When asked about a possible motive for the killing, lead detective Wallace Mieghen offered no comment except to say that in his opinion, the murder was a clear case of overkill, as John Richard Taney had been poisoned, stabbed, shot and bludgeoned to death.
Salem once suffered from multiple personality disorder. One of his personalities was that of a dog.
