Dead by Sunset: Perfect Husband, Perfect Killer? (54 page)

mentioned his ongoing lawsuit.
 
"The major assets of the estate, which

is this lawsuit against the contractor and his bonding company and the

parent corporation, needs to be tried."
 
His case had been filed in

Texas in the 295th District in October of 1982, but he had no idea when

it was going to trial.

"When was the last time you had a trial date?"

"Gosh," Brad said, looking bemused.
 
"I don't know.
 
In Texas, they do

things different than we do here.
 
They don't have trial dates, you

understand?"

"I don't understand."

Welch knew that Brad was intelligent, but he was acting ingenuous, as

if he had no idea what was happening in his multimillion-dollar suit in

Houston.
 
He had no legal costs, he said, but Vinson and Elkins might

take up to 40 percent of any judgment.

"What's it about?"
 
Welch asked.

"Messed up the constructionþincredible.
 
Violated Uniform Building

Code, Uniform Electrical Code, Plumbing Code, improper construction of

the concrete.
 
I got a videotape on this stuff.
 
It's incredible...."

". . .What's the prayer in that case?
 
What are you asking for in

money?"

"I don't know.
 
My attorneys prepared it.
 
It's quite a bit of

money."

"How much?"

"I don't know, twelve million .
 
. . maybe it's fourteen million."

Brad, the financial wizard, the entrepreneur, suddenly didn't know what

was going on.
 
He had had no incomeþat least according to his IRS

formsþfor years, but he thought he might be suing for as much as

fourteen million dollars.
 
He agreed that he hadn't filed tax returns

for 1983, 1984, or 1985, but that was not his fault.
 
It was because

his tax picture was "one of the most complex things I have ever seen in

my whole life.
 
I don't understand it."
 
He was planning to get rid of

his accounting firm in Seattle, which, he said, didn't seem to

understand it either.
 
And he certainly had no money to pay Cheryl.

Cheryl gave her deposition next.
 
Ted Runstein was now representing

Brad, and she was frightened, jumpy as a rabbit, when he questioned

her.

She estimated that their basic living expenses, prior to Brad's moving

out, were X10,000 a month.
 
Early in their marriage, Brad had prepared

their financial statements, and she had signed them.
 
In 1982, Brad's

figures showed total assets of $4,074,000 with outstanding liabilities

of X1,200,000.
 
This was during the time that the Houston project

looked as if it was going to be a go.
 
"I relied on what Brad said the

values of these figures were," Cheryl said.
 
"I had no reason, at that

point, to believe that they were untrue."

"Okay," Runstein said.
 
"Let's go to 1984 now.
 
Mr. Cunninghamþin

early 1984þcommenced sharing a residence with you again?"

Yes, Cheryl said, he had been more or less back with them in 1984 and

they had moved to Portland because Brad wanted to.
 
"He felt he could

not get employment in Seattle because of the bankruptcy and so many

creditor banks in Seattleþso many enemies, as he put it."

Cheryl had had to pass the Oregon bar and took a bar review course.

They hired Marnie O"Connor as a baby-sitter.
 
"She did not live in

until about two weeks before she was fired," Cheryl testified.

"When was she fired?"
 
Runstein asked.

". . . late August or early September.

". . . Was this the young lady that Mr. Cunningham told you he was

intimate with?"

". . . yes."

Runstein went on to ask if she and Brad had discussed open marriage.

"Brad had raised the subject numerous times, yes."

"Brad had?
 
You had not?"

. . .no.

Cheryl lost her composure.
 
Brad was making faces and comments.
 
She

said she could not continue.
 
Runstein admonished Brad to make no

comments.

"My question," Runstein continued, "is just prior to finding out about

this young baby-sitter, had you told him that you had had intercourse

with someone during the marriage?"

"Absolutely not.
 
And I had not," Cheryl said firmly.
 
She had never

ever gone along with Brad's enthusiasm for open marriage.

Cheryl answered questions about the terrible scene on the first day

Jess went to Bridlemile School.
 
It was still bitterly fresh in her

mind, it had happened less than two weeks earlier.
 
She trembled as she

recalled that morning.
 
Cheryl admitted that she had balled her hand

into a fist and held it out "real hard to stop [Brad] from pushing me

backwards."

'. . . You were not angry at this time?"

"I had been upset ever since he called me the night before.
 
I was

extremely angry at this man for causing this scene [in front of] my

little boy.
 
You bet I was."
 
For a moment, Cheryl showed her old

fire.

It was a long and tedious deposition, and Cheryl was strung so tightly

she almost vibrated.
 
Runstein asked her questions which seemed

designed to trip her up, but Cheryl remained steady.
 
She described the

weekend when Brad moved back into the Gresham house as "absolutely

frightening."

"Does the guest room have a lock?"

"Not to my knowledge.
 
If it did, he put it in when he and Marnie

screwed in it.... I did notice one there as I was cleaning the room

when I moved out.
 
And I believe Brad put that on himself, as I said,

probably for privacy with his baby-sitter."

Runstein's questions now touched on a volatile area.
 
He asked if

Cheryl felt Brad should see the children out of her presence.
 
She

tried to avoid a direct answer.
 
She could feel the heat of Brad's

rage.

But Runstein kept needling her until she blurted, "No, I don't think he

should see them at all."

"Ever?"
 
Runstein breathed.

"Considering what he's done lately, I don't think he shows himself to

be mature enough to be a father figure for them."
 
She cited the

Bridlemile School spectacle.
 
"I think that speabs for itself."

"Okay.
 
When was the first occasion when he struck the children,

leaving welts and bruises?"
 
Runstein was fishing, Cheryl had not

mentioned her concern about that, but now she had to speak.
 
"You see,"

she began, knowing she was on treacherous ground, " .
 
. . I have a

feeling I didn't know about that a lot of the times.
 
The children got

a lot of bumps and bruises that you think occur falling down.
 
The one

time we're talking about here occurred shortly after we moved from

Seattle in 1985

... when Michael was three years old...."

"What did you do," Runstein asked, "when he had beaten the children so

severely that they had welts and bruises?"

"I confronted him with it.
 
I told him that if he ever did that again,

I would report him to the police .
 
. . and he basically told me it was

none of my business and that if I wanted to have a few welts myself, he

could give them to me."

Brad could not contain himself, and Cheryl turned to look at him,

alarmed.
 
"I'm not going to sit here and be intimidated by him.
 
He

scares me."

Cheryl was almost beyond fear now, but she plunged on.
 
She described

welts and bruises on Michael's thigh.

"And did it ever happen again?"
 
Runstein asked.

"He struck them a lot of times after that, but generally so as not to

leave welts and bruises," Cheryl replied.
 
She said Brad had hit the

boys on their bottoms and that "he generally confined his striking of

the children to times when I wasn't around."
 
But the boys had told

her.

Brad was seething.
 
Runstein showed Cheryl an affidavit she had signed

six months earlier saying that Brad could see the children as often as

he wanted.

Li.

"I would agree to anything to get him out of the house, Mr. Runstein

þanything to get him physically out of my house.
 
I figured the Court

would take care of him if he abused the children."

"Okay."

Cheryl drew up every inch of her frail body and fixed her eye on Ted

Runstein.
 
"If you are trying to imply I don't care about the

well-being of my children, you are off base."

"You are not angry, are you?"

"Yeah, I'm real angry.
 
You are upsetting me a great deal.
 
It's been a

long day."

Runstein suggested that they break for the day.
 
The deposition

adjourned at 4:04

P.M. The court reporter, Michael King, rode down in the elevator with

Cheryl and saw that she was barely holding back tears.
 
She had every

reason to be upset.
 
She had just broken all of Brad's rules.

She had defied him, she had humiliated him in public, and most

dangerous of all, she had officially accused him of child abuse.
 
Brad

viewed himself, above all else, as the perfect father.
 
But Cheryl had

held nothing back as she described him as an abusive father, a terrible