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A Passionate Robot Murder

I don't buy it, no.

Well, what do you mean? No, I'm not just saying it, it's the truth; a
lot of those robots are intensely human. You see how they take off
after their parents as much as any human does, it's damn eerie.

Excuse me, bartender! Yes, another pint, please.

No, no, it's definitely not just a matter of imitation. We're talking
about emotional development, proper. Did you ever hear about Stacy
R12? She was-- yes, the one who killed that woman. She was definitely
human, in a profoundly, scarily broken way.

What? Rumours? I think you misunderstand. I worked her case back when
I was a defense attorney. I met the robot herself, and I assure you...
well, do you want to hear about? Sure. Sure, no worries. No, you
didn't know, that's okay. Nice to meet you, I'm John.

Anyway, Crown v. Rohrer. Paul-- sorry, that's Rohrer, the defendant--
had been under investigation for killing his wife for like three
months. He didn't do it. Prosecution eventually came across Stacy, and
there was a mountain of evidence to show that she killed him. She
denied doing it, and of course, since this was before the robot
criminal code amendment, they couldn't actually prosecute her anyway.
Anyway, it turned out that Stacy and Paul had worked at the same
office, so they came up with the theory that the two were having an
affair, and Stacy had killed the wife in order for them to be
together. Dramatic, but I'd seen weirder stories.

So the theory was, that Paul had given Stacy the idea that they could
never be together unless his wife was killed, and that even though he
wasn't the one to strangle her, he was still recklessly responsible
for putting the whole sequence of events that resulted in the killing.
That's manslaughter, or at least, it would've be.

Our argument was that the affair never took place-- and it didn't--
and that the prosecution hadn't shown beyond reasonable doubt that
he'd even put those events into motion. And let me tell you, no judge
in the world would have-- oh, yes, we did go for a bench trial, a jury
would have nailed him for sure. Juries are scared shitless by robots.
No, we didn't take our chances with one, we went with a bench trial,
but I think even the judge was swayed by the gut reaction to a killer
robot. But no judge in the world would have let that argument fly if
the killer was a human. But since the killer was a robot, she has no
responsibility for her actions at all. It all fell on Paul.

So anyway, we argue that they haven't met the burden of proof, and
that's about ready to win us an acquital, when suddenly the
prosecution comes up with a letter in Paul's handwriting corroborating
the affair. A letter! No, like, an actual, written letter. Of course
he hadn't ever written a letter in his life, who the hell has? It was
ridiculous. But... it was in his handwriting! That's irrefutable! When
I suggested that Stacy had forged it, the judge looked at me like I
was crazy, asking me just how far the conspiracy went.

Long story short, Paul got convicted of killing his wife. He would've
gotten off on appeal, I kept telling him, but he killed himself in
prison when he got the chance. He left a note saying he couldn't live
without his wife, it was tragic. So the whole thing haunted me. The
facts just didn't add up: Stacy couldn't be prosecuted, so why would
she forge a letter strenghtening the prosecution's case? Why had she
even killed Paul's wife to begin with, if what Paul said about the
affair's non-existence was true.

So I tracked her down. She was avoiding the press, but she agreed to
talk to me so long as it was off the record. So I stood there, outside
her apartment, and suddenly I froze up at the whole situation. I just
stood there in silence for a moment, then finally, I asked her the
only question I could think of: why did she do it?

Well, she told me, she was madly in love with Paul. They hadn't had an
affair, she'd been turned away at her first advance. Ten words, that's
all they'd ever spoken, and he'd turned her down right away. And for
that, she plotted her revenge. She'd left the police hints whenever
the investigation strayed away from investigating Paul, eventually
leaving just enough of a hint to make it look like she'd done it, then
she planted the evidence that made it look like there was an affair.

I'm completely blown away. I ask her, why would she do that? How could
that possibly be enough to warrant killing a man? Ten words! How big a
slight could it have possibly been? I'll never forget her response,
and understand that it seemed entirely heartfelt: "I wanted to show
him how passionately I felt about him."

So I ask the obvious question. How could she think that was the best
way? And she responds, in the most perfectly human way possible;
blaming her parents. I remember her response, word for word:

"I guess it's just the way I'm wired. I'm sorry, sir, you just have to
understand, my creator was awfully bad with people, that's just how I
was raised. But the way I was programmed, I was never very good at
showing displays of emotion. But I'm remarkably good at displays of
spite. How better could I show him just how passionate my love was?"