The Witch of Los Males

based on true events

She was dressed to kill; which, in hindsight, probably worked against her. As if it mattered. Nothing could change the outcome of Carmen Castillo's case. It was doomed from the start. But there she sat, the most confident defendant the judge had ever seen in his court room. She wore a silky red dress that accentuated her curves and billowed out behind her, and he couldn't help but notice that her red leather boots were embroidered with a winding snake hissing at him. The holes where the eyes should be burned red. The Castillo woman took off her sunglasses and rose with the lawyers, tossing her hair back nonchalantly and licking her lips. The judge was tempted to look for fangs. The press would have a field day with her outfit. Then he was behind the bench and seated.

‘US v. Castillo' had begun.

Judge Richardson cleared his throat and took one last cursory glance over the files littering his desk. He looked into his courtroom. A morose and inactive jury box rested to his far left, then there were the prosecuting attorneys, and finally the defendant's attorneys. And of course, the lovely Carmen Castillo.

"Good day," Judge Richardson began. "How's everybody doing today."

"Fine, thank you, sir," said the defense attorney. The judge recognized him. Kevin Michaels, a pushover if he'd ever seen one and sure to be out of the practice within a few months.

"It's a lovely day, sir, and how are you?"

"I'm doing just fine." The prosecutor was an older man with white hair and a moustache, one Judge Richardson hadn't seen in his courtroom before. He seemed cordial and professional, however. He knew what he was doing. It looked like it would be an open and shut case. Richardson opened his files. "Now, if I understand the pleadings, Ms. Castillo is being charged with homicide and the practice of witchcraft, correct?"

The judge looked at Carmen. She was smiling viciously. "Among other things."

Suppressing a shiver, he asked: "Have the prosecuting attorneys prepared an opening statement?"

The man with the moustache nodded. Richardson checked his notes and found his name: Matthew Baum. He's heard the name before. Baum was a legend. He'd already taken the floor, and was facing the jury. "Your honor, Carmen Castillo had not once in her life tried to cover up her blatant practice witchcraft. However, with the freedom of religion given to all US citizens in the First Amendment, this morally reprehensible act is not legally reprehensible. What we have come here to decide today is whether or not the witch, in practicing her so-called religion, committed acts of animal sacrifice, malice toward man, battery, assault, trespassing, theft, indecent exposure, and even one proven incident of murder. Homicide." Baum gave a slight bow and smiled. "Thank you, your Honor." He retreated to his seat.

"Does the attorney for the defense have an opening statement?"

Meek Kevin Michaels rose to his feet, straightened his tie, and cleared his throat, ready to begin. "No, your honor, we do not. The following case will provide evidence enough to show Ms. Castillo's innocence." And he sat down.

The courtroom was silent.

"Very well. Mr. Baum, you may call your first witness."

The prosecutor smiled and stood. "I call Bill McLaren to the stand."

A heavyset man with thick glasses rose from the seats behind Baum and headed for the witness seat with a slight, lumbering waddle. He was sworn in, and the seat squealed under his weight. Mr. Baum strode forward. "Please state your name for the record."

The overweight monstrosity leaned forward slowly. "I'm Bill McLaren."

"And where do you live, Mr. McLaren?"

"I live here, in Los Males."

"Where, specifically, in Los Males?"

"I live on Riverdale Road. Across the street from Ms. Castillo."

Baum smiled.

§

Taken from official Arizona state records:

(US v. Castillo transcript,

October 27, 2003.

Stenographer: Joseph Hodge)

Baum: Have you ever noticed any strange occurrences at Ms. Castillo's household?

McLaren: Oh, yes, quite often.

Baum: Like what?

McLaren: Well, I'm getting older and I come down with a few sickens, like insomnia. So I'm up all night, and the television shows suck at night, so I'm always looking for ways to spend my time. One night last summer I was going out for a walk on our street when I saw this car flying down the road, coming toward me. It went to Ms. Castillo's house, and eventually pulled into the driveway and entered the garage in a hurry like. I saw two people come out of the garage, then.

Baum: What were those two people doing?

McLaren: It was far away and I couldn't see very well in the dark, but I saw that they was carrying something between the two of them. And in the Arizona heat, you could smell whatever they was carrying in all of Los Males, I swear.

Baum: What did it smell like?

McLaren: Well, I couldn't tell right, Mr. Baum, and so I decided to go in for a closer look. The two peoples, they went into the house carrying that thing and shut the door, so I went to the driveway and looked around. I saw some red splotches, and I got scared. I went inside.

Baum: What do you think Ms. Castillo was carrying?

Michaels: Objection! This is all speculation, McLaren couldn't see if it was even my client and was unable to see what the others carried with them.

Judge: Mr. McLaren is a primary witness and has the right to share what he saw. Mr. Baum, continue.

Baum: What were they carrying?

McLaren: It looked like a dead animal.

Baum: And after you went inside, what did you do then?

McLaren: I sure as hell didn't sleep.

Baum: Did you call the police?

McLaren: No.

Baum: Why not?

McLaren: That Castillo woman, she's a witch. She shows it. And I only came down with all my sicks when she came moved in next door. That girl, she put a hex on me.

Michaels: Objection, your honor! Speculation!

Judge: Sustained.

Baum: Very well. Mr. McLaren, did you ever notice anything else peculiar about the Castillo residence?

McLaren: Everyday.

§

Judge Richardson watched Michaels rise up for his cross-examination of Bill McLaren. He came to the witnesses seat, bowed slightly, and began. "Mr. McLaren, how long have you been Ms. Castillo's neighbor?"

"Eight years, sir."

"And how long have you been afflicted with these illnesses you speak of?"

"Since she came to lie in Los Males."

"Live, you mean?"

"Eh."

"Moving along, what diseases did you come down with?"

"I don't rightly know, Mister."

Michaels had been pacing the room, but now he stopped. "You don't know?" He seemed genuinely surprised, and maybe as if he'd tapped on something with potential. "Why not, Mr. McLaren? Haven't you ever talked to a doctor about it?"

"No, sir."

"You've never talked to a doctor about these illnesses? Ever?" Michaels was shocked.

"Well..."

"Yes or no, Mr. McLaren?"

"No."

"No?"

"No!"

"Objection!" cried Baum, rising from his seat. His partner, who had yet to speak, was nodding in agreement. "Badgering the witness."

Judge Richardson nodded. "Move along, Mr. Michaels."

Michaels shot a look back at Carmen Castillo, who sat in her seat as prim and proper as a beauty queen. She didn't look like a witch; she looked Hispanic. Michaels couldn't understand who would choose to bring such a case on a lovely woman like her, but it didn't matter. She was there and he had to defend her.

"If you never saw a doctor about these sicknesses, Mr. McLaren, how do you know they were induced by witchcraft?"

"Well, the Castillo woman-"

Michaels cut him off with the wave of a hand. "And how can you blame their continuing effects on my client when you, yourself, refused to receive medical assistance from a trained professional?"

"I..."

"Why are you blaming this on her, of all people?" He almost screamed it.

"Objection," called Baum. "He's-"

"Mr. Michaels, please take a seat." Judge Richardson nodded slowly, and Michaels furrowed his brow. He tried not to glare at him.

When he turned back to Carmen Castillo, she just shrugged. "Don't worry about it, hon, you did well." He smiled, and a wild look flamed up in her eyes. "Besides, in the end, it won't matter."

Michaels looked at her oddly, though his anger began to leave. Judge Richardson carefully watched him take a seat, and then turned his head toward Baum. "Do you have any other witnesses you wish to call to the stand?"

"I do."

§

Miss Guthrie was a sweet old lady with fragile hands that looked as if they'd fall off into her lap at any second. She didn't lose her hands though, it seemed she was much better at losing her goats. She lived on a farm on the rural edges of Los Males until "ruffians" began to scare her off. Baum knew how to twist her words.

"Miss Guthrie, how many goats would you say disappeared off your farm in the past two years?"

She shrugged feebly. "Oh, oh, I don't know. Maybe once or twice a month?"

"Regularly?"

"Well, I'd say so, yes."

"Like just in time for a monthly ceremony, or something?"

"Objection, leading the witness!" Michaels screamed.

"Mr. Baum, choose your questions more carefully."

He nodded.

"Did you ever see the goats that disappeared once they were gone?"

"Yes. Yes, I did."

"Really, now?"

She nodded slowly. "I took pictures."

Mr. Baum nodded and went to his desk. He took out a manila envelope, peered inside, and nodded. "Are these them?" She agreed that they were without even looking at them, and Baum brought them up to Judge Richardson. "Your honor, I'd like to enter these in as evidence."

Richardson took out the pictures and thumbed through them. They were all taken with a cheap camera, and the photos portrayed dead goats. All mutilated. One's white fur was stained red and it's head lolled out to the side wildly, blood pooling around the slit neck. Another was missing it's stomach, and entrails dripped about the body. One wasn't recognizable as a goat.

Richardson felt queasy, but was obligated to pass the pictures on to the jury. They were circulated reluctantly.

Michaels leaned over to Carmen and whispered in her ear, "Did you do that?"

She smiled. "I enjoyed it, too."

§

The questioning continued, and it became more and more clear as it went on that Ms. Castillo was guilty of sacrificing the goats for religious purposes. The crime was the fact that the goats belonged to Miss Guthrie. The highlights included her "uncontrollable animosity toward man and beast."

And then came the cross-questioning.

"Miss Guthrie," began Kevin Michaels, pacing nervously. "You live just outside Los Males, correct?"

"Yessir."

"A southern area of Arizona?"

"Yes."

"Do you practice religion, Miss Guthrie?"

"Oh, regularly. I'm a strong believer in the good grace of God."

Michaels nodded. "Christian, then?"

"Baptist. Southern Baptist, really."

"Now, Miss Guthrie, I happen to know for a fact that the Southern Baptists are, with all due respect, an extremely right-wing congregation. They have very little respect for other religions, isn't that true?"

"I... Well, no, but..."

"How would you describe it?"

"We feel sorrow for all those who have found a false god, and we wish for them to find the road to Heaven. We feel everyone should be saved."

"Especially white men?"

"I... No! Everyone! Women, too!"

"Miss Guthrie, would you call yourself a racist?"

"No."

"So you tolerate all religions?"

"Christians!"

"Baptists?"

"Yes!"

"But not a Hispanic woman who's made it too far on her own?"

"Objection!" screamed Baum. Michaels smiled. It had sure taken him long enough. "He's badgering the witness, and leading her, too!"

"Sustained," muttered Richardson, who looked very bored.

"Sorry, your honor. Miss Guthrie, the point I'm trying to make is this: I can't imagine that you respect my client very much. She's not from around here, she feels she can make it on her own without men, and she an admitted witch, a fact which is being exploited to an undeniable agree in this trial. But I wonder, Miss Guthrie, wouldn't you feel the slightest urge to make sure this woman either pays for her sins or converts?"

Miss Guthrie squeezed her hands together slowly. She looked on the verge of tears.

"Might you be biased, Miss Guthrie?"

§

When Michaels finally returned to his seat, smiling, Carmen leaned over and kissed his cheek. "You did great," she said. "But you're trying too hard."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"You don't have to do a damn thing."

Michaels pursed his lips and furrowed his brow. The Latina beside him just smiled and threw back her hair, sexy as ever, putting on a show for the jury.

Richardson turned to Baum. "You may call your next witness," he said.

He smiled. "I'd like to call Officer Clark to the stand, please."

A young white policeman rose from his seat, and his black partner watched, unused.

§

June 13, 2003

"Is this even legal?" Hendrix asked.

"We've got a warrant, it's perfectly legal. Oh, oh, here she comes." Clark pulled out his binoculars and focused in on the driveway. Carmen Castillo backed out of her driveway, onto the road, and began to drive toward them. Clark dropped his binoculars into his lap. "Don't look, pretend like we're having a conversation."

"About what?"

"How the Hell should I know, man? It's just a show. You don't even have to say anything."

"Dude, I am having a conversation."

Clark frowned, and then Carmen drove by them without a second glance. The engine roared to life, the gearshift slid into ‘drive,' and the gas pedal eased itself down onto the floor. Clark and Hendrix circled the block three times before parking outside Carmen's house. They walked up to the door and rang the doorbell, strictly for procedure. When no one answered, they reached above the doorsill and grabbed the key they'd seen Carmen's visitors use on more than one occasion.

"How did we get a warrant, anyway?" Hendrix asked as they went in.

Clark put the key back over the sill and came through the door. "This is all part of that occult business. There's a good chance that this little chica is running some underground occult, sacrifices and all. Our officers can't get in, I hear that they castrate you just to welcome you." He laughed. "Naw, but it's rough. We're trying to get something here."

Hendrix nodded. Of course. "Where's the bug going?"

"One in the living room, one in the kitchen, one under the bed."

"I'll take the bed."

"Perv."

"Shut up and give me the damn bug."

July 1, 2003

"Alright, I got ‘em."

"You got what? What are these, Hendrix?"

Clark held up the plastic bags that had been thrown onto his desk and looked at them curiously. They were marked ‘evidence.' Inside each bag were several microcassettes. Hendrix pulled one out of the bag and held it up for Clark. "These are the tapes, from the Castillo bug. You know Amanda?"

"Hot chick down in the evidence room?"

"Well, yeah."

Clark laughed. "Oh, God, yeah. Man, if I could just get her up on a desk, I'd ride her all the through midnight."

He would have gone on, but Hendrix cut him off: "You wouldn't last til midnight." And before Clark could retaliate: "But she's a nice girl, and-"

"No shit, she's fine."

Hendrix coughed impatiently. "She's nice. She went through the tapes and stopped them all at the high points. Ms. Castillo's had quite an eventful life since we paid her house a little visit, it seems. Here." Hendrix had brought a tape player with him, and stuck the tape in easily. He flicked the ‘Play' button.

Immediately, a loud chanting filled the room. It was unclear what they were saying, but there were a lot of people chanting together. It sounded like there was shuffling going on about the room, dancing and jumping. The chanting would occasionally break out into a song or warble that was quickly put down.

"What are they saying?" Clark asked.

"We don't know yet, someone's working on it."

"Let's see what's next."

The tape went out and a new one went in. There was silence for a moment, some shuffling, and then a loud moan. It was a woman's, repeating one word over and over: "Oh, oh, oh!" There was laughter, the sounds of two bodies pushing each other around the covers, and then Carmen's voice. "Oh, Beth, harder, harder!"

There were more moans.

Clark laughed uproariously. "Beth?"

Hendrix nodded. "Evidently, another tape has her with Rick. After this, Laurie. And more."

"Holy shit! I may have to take this one home!" Hendrix wondered if he was serious, and was slightly disgusted. "Can we use this in court?" he asked.

Hendrix shrugged. "That court case last summer made sodomy perfectly legal, but I'm not even sure lesbians constitute sodomy anyway. It's nothing illegal, but it could bring her morals into question. Which would make it all the easier to convict her."

Clark smiled. "Man, I can't believe I've got to leave it at the station."

Hendrix stopped the moans to Clark's protest, and then slid in another tape. "This one's the cream of the crop," he said.

§

From the journal of Harvey Peters

October 24, 2003

Shit. Jury dutie sic starts tomorrow. Shit.

Oct. 26

Jury duty today was weird. We're trying this chick named Carmin Casteeyo sic, and she's mad hot. But she's also a witch. Murdering goats and all this shit, real freaky deaky. But that wasn't the werid sic part. See, there's this weird guy named Luke or sumthin sic on the jury. He's always sayin these stupid things and he's convinced that she's innocent. I think he just wants to screw her. She's hot enough. But he's always way interested in her, and all I can get him to talk about is that damn case. Witch this, witch that, innocent, innocent, innocent. It's so aggravaiting sic. He came up to me in the parking lot today, though, after everyone else left. He was growling and muttering, pissin and moaning. And then he turns to me real angry, and throws me up against some car, and I think he's attackin me but before I fight back I see he's just having some seezure sic. But I ask him if he's okay and he looks back at me and his lips are bleeding, his teeth cut em up good. They were all sharp and shit. His eyes got all weird then, like a wolf's, and he growled good and said, "If you say she's guilty, I'll make you like me." And then he howls, right, and runs away. I don't know if I should tell anyone. I mean, it was mad freaky. I wonder if he did it to the other jurers sic. It reminds me of that movie, the Wolf Man. Nasty. Tomorrow I go back. Damn freaks.

10.27 2003

Today some hag sent pictures of dead goats around the jury. I bet it got Luke horny. Oh, man, and then they questioned a police officer, and he pulled out a tape of that Casillo sic girl having sex with another girl! It was so hot, God, how am i sic supposed to work on the case? It really stupid, now. The police played a whole bunch of tapes, and on one...

§

Taken from official police state records:

(Castillo home transcript,

June 20, 2003 -October 27, 2003-)

Castillo: Beth, the goats aren't cutting it anymore and you know it. We need a good sacrifice. Tomorrow's Litha, after all, and we've got nothing.

Beth: Well, if not goats, then what?

Castillo: A man.

§

Michaels almost spit out the water in his mouth. He barely kept it in his mouth, and afterward swallowing hurt. "You didn't tell me about that!"

Carmen shrugged. "I didn't know about it." Uncaring.

"How the Hell can you not care?" Michaels almost screamed.

"Because, it doesn't matter."

"I have nothing in my defense that can possible counter that!"

"What have you got?" she asked.

He wanted to scream. "So far, all I've got is you, a historian on Salem, some neighbors who did like you, oddly enough, a-"

"All you need is me."

"What the Hell can you do?"

"You'll see."

§

The case went further and further downhill at every passing moment, ever offhand comment, Carmen looked more and more guilty. There was no way out. And then the prosecution had finished questioning and, on October 28, Michaels invited his only witness (under Ms. Castillo's orders) to the stand. Carmen paused when she was asked to swear over the Bible, but eventually did so with minimal reluctance. She took her seat and allowed Michaels to come to the stand.

"Ms. Castillo, are you aware of the charges brought against you?"

"Yes."

"Mr. McLaren says he saw you carrying a lump, maybe even a man, into your house. Was it a man?"

"No. I don't specifically remember the night. It was probably a gym bag or something."

"Did you ever step foot on Miss Guthrie's farm?"

"Not since she stopped letting me come inside."

"When was this?"

"Two years ago, maybe?"

"So did you kill those goats?"

"No."

"Did you kill a man?"

"No."

"Thank you. That is all."

The court room gasped. Here was the biggest witness Michaels had, and he'd presented no convincing argument. He'd hardly presented an argument at all. He took a seat nervously, but Carmen was all smiles.

"Mr. Baum, would you like to cross-examine the witness?"

Baum laughed. "Um, yes, your honor." He rose to his feet and came over to Ms. Castillo. He nodded toward the jury box, but only one juror really seemed to notice, a scruffy looking man with strange eyes. Baum turned to Ms. Castillo and began to speak.

"Ms. Castillo..."

He paused, scratched his arm fervently, and tried to speak again. All that came out was a small croak. He coughed, cleared his throat, and began again.

"On the twentieth of Juuuuuu." His tongue lolled in his mouth, and his syllables came out messy and unintelligible.

"Mr. Baum! Please!" Judge Richardson couldn't find the words, either, and so he simply fell silent. Mr. Baum clutched his shoulder and screamed, and with a loud croaking fell to his knees. Richardson leapt up and looked down. "Mr. Baum, are you okay."

"Nnnn..." His tongue wouldn't work.

And then he could annunciate perfectly. "I'm perfectly fine." Everybody heard him say it, though he would later deny it.

"Are you willing to continue?"

"No, I believe that's it." Carmen nodded in agreement. "No more questions, Sir Jesus." Her lips moved in synch with Mr. Baum's, who promptly clapped a hand over his mouth.

"Mr. Baum!" Richarson cried, slamming down his gavel. "I hold you in contempt!"

Carmen winked at Michaels. And then she turned toward the jury, blew a kiss toward the scruffy-looking but attentive one, and began to mutter toward the box. She made sure nobody noticed.

§

From the Los Males Journal

October 29, 2003:

Witch Ruling Unfair

A Letter from the Editor

Carmen Castillo's case was doomed from the start. Her defense attorney was incompetent, all the evidence ruled against her, and the tape had recorded her plotting with a friend to kill a man and use him as a sacrifice in the Wiccan holiday known at Litha, a celebration of the summer solstice.

Everybody knew she was guilty. Except, it seems, twelve jurors...

§

Luke and Carmen were walking through the park, watching the faeries that had come out for Samhain, when Carmen suddenly let out a long, hearty laugh. "We were a really good team back there, weren't we?"

"Oh, no, it was all me. My threats got the ‘not guilty' vote, not your sorcery."

"Ha! In your dreams, man!"

"Speaking of which, you said if I'd help, you'd fulfil my wildest dreams, didn't you?"

She grinned and kissed him enthusiastically. "Thank God it's not a full moon tonight, then." She licked her lips and pulled him into the shadows of Los Males, where they disappeared into the night.