An Almost Perfect Murder (5 page)

With all of her activities, as admirable as they were, it was little wonder that she had marital problems and found it difficult to keep a husband.

Despite her remarkable achievements and awards, depending upon who was asked, Kathy was characterized as either a brilliant politician or a cold-blooded opportunist who would stop at nothing to get ahead. Because of her penchant for hitting below the belt, many people despised her for the tactics she used in her campaigns. She would do almost anything to win. If she had been a man, she likely would have won praise for being one of the brightest, most adept politicians to have ever held political office. But because she was a woman, she was a “bitch,” among other things. But she didn’t care—nothing was going to stop her. She wasn’t about to let “the turkeys get her down.”

It was no secret that Kathy was not well-liked by her employees, who would come and go over the years, sometimes over personality conflicts with her. During an interview, Kathy once admitted to a Reno television reporter at KRNV-TV that she was “tough.”

“Yes, I am a tough boss,” Kathy had said. “I pride myself in the work that we’ve been able to accomplish.”

As her political aspirations continued to widen, the tension felt at home with Charles continued to grow. He made it clear to her that he did not wish to be a part of her political limelight, and by 2003, after several years of already leading separate lives while sharing the same address, they both realized that their marriage was over. It was time for each of them to move on with their lives.

Before Kathy and Charles could come to terms and finalize their divorce agreement, Charles suffered a major stroke and was hospitalized. Kathy stayed at his bedside at Sunrise Hospital and Medical Center, in Las Vegas, waiting for signs of improvement. She was known to call relatives, crying and sad, and would describe how Charles seemed aware that she was there with him, yet they couldn’t communicate with each other. After spending several weeks in the hospital, it seemed to many people that he was getting better. Suddenly, and with little warning, Charles died on August 19, 2003, after several of his vital organs began shutting down. His doctors said that his death was the result of complications from the stroke. Kathy, along with other family members, had been at his bedside when he died. Officially, his death was attributed to the stroke, just like the doctors had said. However, suspicions of foul play would later arise.

At one point during Charles’s hospitalization, Kathy had met critical care nurse Chaz Higgs, eight years her junior, and had coffee with him on a few occasions. Higgs had provided care for Charles during a couple of his shifts, which had provided the opportunity for him and Kathy to meet.

Following Charles Augustine’s death, Kathy decided that she wanted to give out thank-you cards to all of the nurses that had assisted or provided nursing care for her husband. After handing out all of the cards, she realized that she had forgotten one of the nurses—Chaz Higgs. When she discovered the oversight, she called Higgs and invited him out to coffee with her so that she could express her gratitude in person for Higgs’s efforts on behalf of her husband.

Higgs, a former bodybuilder, quickly saw the opportunity he had with Kathy, and the two began dating in what turned out to be a whirlwind relationship. Attracted by his rugged good looks, Kathy couldn’t seem to see enough of Higgs. Three weeks after Charles had died, Kathy and Chaz ran off to Hawaii, and got married in what was termed an unplanned event. There were no family members or friends present at their wedding—just the two of them and the reverend.

No one, not even family members, had known about the marriage until afterward, when Higgs showed up at a social gathering with Kathy in which she was being bestowed the honor of having been selected Italian-American of the Year by the Augustus Society. The award was presented at the Augustus Society’s Annual Columbus Day Ball on Saturday, October 11, 2003, at the Venetian Hotel Casino, in Las Vegas. Each year, the organization selects an individual or family to receive the award, and Kathy was selected for her dedication to public service, her history of community involvement, and her contributions to the advancement of Italian-Americans, particularly because she “embodies the spirit of the award and the society by promoting a positive image of Italian-Americans.”

“Being selected for this award is a true honor,” Kathy told those in attendance. “I have always had strong ties to my heritage and the Italian-American community. Receiving this award provides me with the opportunity to recognize the rich Italian-American culture in this state.”

Relatives and friends had simply thought that Higgs had been her date for the evening. However, to the shock and surprise of many people who were present, it was at that time that she had announced their marriage to her family and friends. Both husband and wife were criticized by their friends and relatives for their hastiness, but they didn’t care. All that mattered to them was their love for each other—as far as they were concerned, the rest of the world, with regard to their marriage, could go to hell.

 

 

The following year, in January 2004, officials at the White House informed Kathy that she had become a finalist for treasurer of the United States. By then, some said, her marriage to Chaz Higgs was already on the rocks.

When Chaz Higgs married Kathy Augustine, he purportedly was not aware of her stature as a politician. He hadn’t realized that her job virtually consumed her life and defined who she was, nor had he cared. Kathy made him happy—in fact, he let it be known that during this period in his life, at least at first, was the happiest he had ever been. His happy-go-lucky demeanor and joyous sense of humor, however, would soon change as he began to realize just how seriously Kathy had taken her political career.

Kathy’s position as Nevada state controller was a powerful one to be in. Brandishing authority and influence at the uppermost ranks of state administration, Kathy’s job allowed her to rub elbows with powerful, influential people all over the country. But in reality, when the ingredients of her position were boiled down to the bottom of the pan, she was little more than a glorified bill collector for the state. Her office routinely collected money owed to the state and, in conjunction with the state treasurer, paid the state’s bills. Anyone in that post, male or female, could not be soft and would have to shake a big stick in order to be successful at the job, particularly if they hoped to be reelected. There was no doubt that Kathy was good at what she did—she collected millions of dollars in bad debt for the state of Nevada during her first term in office, a regular female “Guido” of sorts who always seemed to be waiting around the next corner to grab money from whomever whenever it was owed.

Her seriousness did not mean, however, that she did not have a sense of humor. When Kathy was in the mood to laugh, she would laugh loudly. A number of state employees recalled that Kathy’s laughter could sometimes be heard resounding through the foyers and reception area near her office. At other times, however, her personality could suddenly take an unexpected and rapid turn of 180 degrees, whereby state workers could hear her pounding on her desk and screaming at her employees, scolding them for work that she considered below her standards. Never mind if an employee’s quality of work met the state’s standards set for any given position—if it didn’t meet or exceed Kathy’s expectations, people would hear about it. She was known as a perfectionist, and she demanded the best from everyone—not just the best that any given person could give, but what she considered the best that a person could do. Her perfectionism often led to uncomfortable conditions.

One of Kathy’s former aides said that Kathy, on one occasion, had instructed her to destroy her cat, which was diabetic.

What had been Kathy’s reason for wanting the cat dead? She purportedly had said that the cat had become too much of a diversion at the office, and kept her assistant from doing her work. The office controversy over the unhealthy cat being brought into the office may have spelled the beginning of the end for Kathy’s political career, the straw that broke the camel’s back. The cat belonged to former executive assistant Jennifer Normington who, along with another state employee, former assistant controller Jeannine Coward, had had enough of Kathy’s alleged outrageous tirades. They decided to do something about it. As it turned out, their actions resulted in the first impeachment of a state official in Nevada’s 140-year history. Normington and Coward both alleged that Kathy had committed violations of the state’s ethics laws.

Specifically, the two women charged that Kathy had created a fearful work environment and in the process demanded that a state employee be used to work on her reelection campaign in 2002, on state time.

“She’s a screamer and a yeller and a pounder on the desk,” Coward told state ethics investigators. “And, you know, you tried to avoid any unpleasant situations with her.”

In a nutshell, Kathy was being accused of misdemeanors or malfeasance in office that pertained to her having her employees “organize campaign fund-raiser events, give campaign speeches, compile and maintain donor lists, format and mail requests for contributions, design fund-raiser invitations, prepare contribution reports for submission to the secretary of state, and maintain a database of Kathy Augustine’s campaign contributions,” all on state time.

She was also charged with causing computer equipment owned by the state of Nevada to be used for “creating, maintaining, storing, and printing documents” related to her reelection campaign, and for “causing equipment and facilities, provided by the state of Nevada for use by the office of the state controller, to be used for business and purposes related to her 2002 reelection campaign.” All three of the alleged infringements were violations of Nevada Revised Statutes 281.481(7), and convictions could result in her removal from office.

In an apparent effort to try and ward off serious legal actions, Kathy promptly admitted to the three counts of “willful” violations. In her admission, she claimed that she had not directed anyone to perform campaign work for her on state time, but stipulated that she should have known that such work was being done. The state ethics commission almost immediately imposed a fine of $15,000 against her, the largest such fine ever levied against a politician in the state’s history. However, according to Nevada law, the admission to the violations automatically activated an obligation for the ethics commission to forward the case to the state assembly to decide whether to impeach her or not. After deciding that the charges warranted a trial, the assembly voted for impeachment in September 2004.

Specifically, the Nevada Constitution stipulates: “A public officer or employee, other than a member of the legislature, shall not use government time, property, equipment, or other facilities to benefit his personal or financial interest.”

Following the public announcement of impeachment, Kathy was temporarily removed from office by the governor. Although suspended, Kathy’s $80,000 annual salary would continue, pending the outcome of her trial. The governor appointed Chief Deputy Controller Kim Huys, who had been in that position for three years, as the interim controller. If found guilty, Kathy could be permanently removed from office and be required to repay the state of Nevada a hefty portion of the money that was spent on her impeachment.

Apparently, Kathy’s accusers provided sufficient evidence to prompt Governor Kenny Guinn to call the Nevada Legislature into special session to begin impeachment proceedings against Kathy Augustine. Guinn, as well as several other high-ranking Nevada Republicans, including U.S. senator John Ensign and U.S. representative Jim Gibbons, had asked Kathy to resign, to spare herself the embarrassment of a trial and to spare the state the expense of calling a special session. However, she refused and vowed to defend herself.

“I think that both sides of the story have to be told,” Kathy said in response to the requests that she resign. “Resigning was not an answer.”

In October 2004, Kathy sent a letter to the
Las Vegas Review-Journal
in which she stated that she had
always believed in maintaining the public trust,
and insisted that
I will not stand silently and have my integrity dragged through the mud.

Although it had been suggested that Guinn should wait until the regular legislative session began at the beginning of the coming year, he decided that the special session was more appropriate, because he did not want an impeachment trial to detract from the normal business that needed to be considered during the regular session. He insisted that the regular session was going to be much too busy dealing with more important issues, such as water allocations, property taxes, and general tax increases.

On November 9, 2004, forty-two members of the Nevada Assembly met in committee and listened to the testimonies of a number of witnesses. Afterward, the vote for impeachment was unanimous, and the three alleged violations, referred to as articles of impeachment, were forwarded to the state senate for trial. The senate appropriated $250,000 for the trial expenses, estimating that it would cost at least $15,000 per day. The trial began on November 29, 2004, the Monday after Thanksgiving, and would require a two-thirds majority of the twenty-one members of the senate for conviction.

Kathy publicly maintained her composure and style, but behind the scenes she was, of course, furious over the allegations and the impending impeachment proceedings. Suddenly the issues surrounding her private life, particularly her speedy marriage to Chaz Higgs, took a backseat to the impeachment proceedings. She retained attorneys John Arrascada and Dominic Gentile to defend her. Gentile was quick to caution the lawmakers that Kathy’s impeachment, if carried out, might be at their own detriment.

“The assembly and senate are really trying themselves here,” Gentile told a reporter for the
Boston Globe.
“Some of them have aspirations for higher political office. All of them have people who work for them who work on their campaigns. If they want to make a sacrificial lamb out of her, fine, but every one of them has disgruntled employees and every one of them will face ethics complaints filed by them if they find that this action is worthy of being expelled from office.”

Nevada state senator Dina Titus, Democrat minority leader, shot back at Gentile’s suggestion by basically stating that it wasn’t a valid argument because of the fact that the legislature only meets for 120 days each year, and therefore most lawmakers do not have full-time staffs to strike back and settle scores.

“If she wants to drag other people through the mud,” Titus said, “I suggest they let her do that, because it won’t be me or anyone I know.”

Titus also made it clear that people were not happy about Kathy’s suggestion that her assistant have her diabetic cat killed.

“That was enough for me, ’cause I got a cat,” Titus told reporters. “A lot of people who don’t like Kathy Augustine think if this (impeachment) is gonna happen, it couldn’t happen to a less nice person.”

Kathy’s lawyer responded by saying that Kathy had only made the suggestion out of compassion for the sick animal, as many people prefer to put their pets out of their misery rather than seeing them suffer. Gentile said that Kathy was the target of spiteful and vindictive state employees.

Titus and a number of other Democrats suddenly saw Kathy’s impeachment as an opportunity to settle old scores. Many people began recalling the issue of Kathy’s allegedly racist political mailer years earlier, as well as her ascent to the senate by beating Jewish lawmaker Lori Lipman Brown by saying that Brown refused to recite the Pledge of Allegiance. A number of Democrats took the opportunity to renew the scandals. The question of whether Kathy was a bigot, however, remained unanswered despite the fact that she had claimed that she was not.

As the impeachment proceedings continued to heat up, Kathy similarly refused to temper her own feelings about the issue. She offended the governor, who had been an ally of hers for many years, by refusing to meet with him privately at his suggestion. Instead, she told him that she would only meet with him behind closed doors if her attorney was present. She also requested that a special independent prosecutor be selected for her impeachment because she believed that the prosecutor that had been named by the senate, Daniel Greco, the Washoe County chief deputy district attorney, was biased against her. It clearly wasn’t the time to be making new enemies—she already had plenty. But Kathy insisted that she would win this battle, just as she had won most of the battles in her career.

If anyone else had been called onto the carpet for Kathy’s alleged wrongdoing, especially in Nevada, it would likely have been viewed as simply yet another typical political scandal, one to be added to the state’s history of political and/or judicial wrongdoing, alleged or otherwise. However, because Kathy was so disliked by so many people, it became a ripe opportunity for her opponents to try and pull the carpet out from under her.

“I don’t expect anybody to embrace Kathy Augustine and say, ‘Hey, Kathy, what you did here was good,’” Gentile said to reporters at one of several news conferences. “But they should say, ‘Hey, Kathy, the fact that you admitted you should have known about this is good.’ This is not the stuff you remove people from office for. It’s what we fine them for. If they approach it with an open mind, Kathy Augustine wins.”