William Fastow sat in the witness box in Norfolk County Superior Court and listened to a voicemail from the man prosecutors say murdered the woman he loved. The recording played for the jury, Brian Walshe's voice filling the courtroom: "Good afternoon. My name is Brian Walsh. I hope all is going well. Anna hasn't been in touch for a few days. I spoke to work today. She hasn't been in. They went to the house and she wasn't there or look like she's been there recently. So just wondering if you've spoken to her recently, like Sunday or the last two days. Just let me know. Sorry to bother you. Sure everything's fine."
Sure everything's fine. Four words that will haunt this trial. Brian Walshe left that voicemail on January 4, 2023, three days after prosecutors say he beat his wife Ana to death in their Cohasset home while their three young sons slept upstairs. Three days after he allegedly dismembered her body. Three days after, according to the state's theory, he began the methodical process of disposing of her remains in dumpsters across Massachusetts. And now he was calling her secret lover, the man she had been planning a future with, asking for help finding her. Asking him to check the townhouse in Washington, DC where Ana had been building a new life. Giving him the garage code so he could look inside.
Day 4 of the Brian Walshe murder trial was about motive and movement. It was about showing the jury why Brian Walshe might have wanted his wife dead and where his phones traveled in the days after she vanished. It was about establishing that Ana Walshe was healthy and vibrant and making plans for the future just hours before she disappeared forever. And it was about the digital footprints that prosecutors say tell the story of a cover-up in real time.
Ana Walshe was 39 years old. She was a Serbian immigrant who came to the United States in 2005 and built an American dream through intelligence, determination, and relentless work. She was a real estate executive at Tishman Speyer, one of the largest real estate companies in the world. She had just landed what her husband called her "dream job," earning close to $300,000 a year. She was the breadwinner for her family. She had three sons who were 6, 4, and 2 years old when she vanished. She had purchased a $1.3 million townhouse in Washington, DC and had furnished bedrooms for each of her boys, waiting for the day when Brian's federal case would be resolved and the family could reunite.
But Ana was also having an affair. And the man she was having that affair with was now sitting in a courtroom in Massachusetts, testifying about how they became "close friends, then confidants, and before long started an intimate relationship" just weeks after he helped her purchase that DC townhouse in March 2022.
William Fastow is a DC real estate broker. He was introduced to Ana through a mutual friend when she was looking for property in Washington. He showed her the four-floor townhouse on 43rd Street in Chevy Chase with the two-car garage underneath. He FaceTimed with Brian so he could see the property from Massachusetts. And after the sale closed, Fastow and Ana's professional relationship became something else entirely.
They would see each other two to three times a week when Ana was in DC. They went to dinners together. They went sailing on Fastow's boat in Annapolis. Ana attended outdoor yoga events that Fastow hosted. She was focused on staying in shape, Fastow testified, on recovering from her multiple pregnancies, on "dialing everything in." She had a home gym in her townhouse with a treadmill and weights. She exercised regularly. She was healthy and active and present in the world.
The relationship became serious by summer 2022. Fastow stopped seeing other people. They spent Thanksgiving together in Dublin, Ireland, flying there together while Ana's husband and children celebrated the holiday without her in Massachusetts. On Christmas Eve 2022, just one week before Ana would vanish, she and Fastow had dinner at the Annapolis Yacht Club with friends of his. They stayed overnight at his home in DC. The next morning it snowed and Ana's flight was cancelled. She had to drive from Washington to Cohasset, arriving late on Christmas Day. Brian and Ana argued about her tardiness, according to testimony.
And on that Christmas Day, while Ana was driving north to be with her family, Brian Walshe was searching on his phone for "William Fastow DC real estate." He searched for Fastow six times that day, prosecutors have alleged. His mother had hired a private investigator to follow Ana in Washington. The Walshe family knew, or at least suspected, that Ana was seeing someone else.
But according to Fastow's testimony, Ana never knew that Brian knew. She never told Brian about the affair. She never planned to tell him, at least not imminently. Ana was "despondent" about being separated from her children, Fastow said. The boys stayed in Massachusetts because Brian's home confinement for his federal art fraud case was contingent on him being their primary caregiver. Ana felt she couldn't be the mother her children deserved. She was building a new life in DC while her heart remained in Cohasset with her sons.
The last time Fastow heard from Ana was at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve. She sent him a Happy New Year text. He responded. He sent her a photo the next day of himself teaching his son to ski in Idaho, where he was vacationing with his children. He sent a waving hand emoji. He sent question marks. Nothing came back. He tried calling on January 2nd. The phone went straight to voicemail. He tried calling from a landline, thinking maybe she had blocked him. Still nothing.
Then Brian called. Fastow declined the first call, afraid that Brian had discovered the affair and was calling to confront him. "I was in an intimate relationship with his wife," Fastow explained to the jury. "I had not heard from her in several days. Frankly, I was concerned that maybe he had found out and was calling to confront me." But Brian called again and left the voicemail. And Fastow called back immediately.
Brian gave him the garage code. Fastow went to Ana's townhouse twice on January 4th. Her car wasn't in the garage. The inside door was locked. He couldn't get into the house. No sign of Ana anywhere. He went back that evening hoping she would have shown up. Nothing. The woman he loved, the woman he was making 1, 3, 5, and 10 year plans with, had simply vanished.
The prosecution introduced 43 pages of text messages between Fastow and Ana. The texts showed intimacy and planning and two people navigating the complexity of an affair while both dealing with their own family situations. Fastow was also going through a separation. His older son, he texted Ana on December 29th, "can't imagine me with someone else. Like all children of separated parents, he deeply wants us to reconcile. Introducing him to someone else would destroy that fantasy. It would crush him now."
The defense, on cross-examination, worked to establish that Ana had no plans to leave Brian. There was no definitive timeline for telling him about Fastow. She cared about Brian deeply, Fastow acknowledged. She wanted everyone to see him in the light she saw him. She would have been devastated if he found out about the affair from anyone other than her. Defense counsel asked the pointed question: "She never told you, 'Hey Will, I'm going to go home. I'm going to talk to Brian. I'm going to blow up my marriage and come be with you.'" Fastow confirmed: "That is correct."
The cross-examination also revealed that Fastow had deleted messages between himself and Ana. He claimed embarrassment about what he had written. The defense pushed on this, suggesting that the messages Fastow chose to preserve might not tell the complete story of the relationship. They also established that Fastow and Ana never socialized with Ana's friends in DC, only with Fastow's friends. They were careful. They were secretive. They were hiding in plain sight, conducting an affair that Ana was determined to keep from Brian at all costs.
What does this secrecy tell us? The prosecution would say it shows that Ana knew the affair would devastate Brian, that she understood the stakes, that she was aware her husband might react badly to learning the truth. The defense would say it shows that Ana had no intention of leaving Brian, that the affair was a compartmentalized part of her life rather than a path to divorce. Both interpretations can coexist with the evidence. The jury will have to decide which matters more.
The defense is planting seeds for reasonable doubt. If Ana wasn't planning to leave Brian that weekend, if there was no imminent confrontation coming, why would Brian suddenly snap? But the prosecution has a counter-narrative: Brian knew about the affair. He had been searching for William Fastow on Christmas Day. His mother had hired someone to follow Ana. The humiliation was building. The federal sentencing was looming. And Ana, the breadwinner, the woman whose income kept the family afloat, was slipping away to another man in another city, taking her dream job and her $300,000 salary with her.
After Fastow stepped down, the prosecution called a parade of witnesses who painted a picture of Ana Walshe in her final days: healthy, vibrant, making plans for the future, with no indication that anything was wrong.
These witnesses serve a crucial function in a no-body murder case. Without Ana's remains, without an autopsy, without a medical examiner's report, the prosecution must establish through other means that Ana was not a woman whose death could plausibly be attributed to natural causes. Every witness who saw her healthy and active in her final days chips away at the defense's theory that she died of Sudden Unexplained Death Syndrome. Every plan she made for the future suggests someone who expected to have a future. Every engagement with her community suggests someone present in the world, not someone withdrawing from it.
Suzanne Garland owns the Bar Method studio in Hingham Center. Ana had been taking classes there for years, four times a week when she was in town. In December 2022, Ana was paying for drop-in classes because she was traveling back and forth to DC. On December 30th, she emailed Garland asking if she could sign up for a special that would allow unlimited classes over the next month "because she was going to be in the area more." Garland responded on January 1st, honoring the request even though Ana technically didn't qualify. Ana was planning to be in Massachusetts more often. She was planning to come to the gym. She was planning.
Ashley Cimmino was the instructor for Ana's last workout class. It was December 31st, 2022, New Year's Eve morning, at 8:15 AM. Ana arrived about 10 minutes late, and when she walked in, Cimmino recognized her immediately from the Boston location where they had both taken classes years before. "It was kind of this oh my god moment," Cimmino testified. Ana had been a client since around 2011.
During the 45-minute class, Ana was what Cimmino called "a powerhouse." Clients are given options during setup for how to do push-ups: on their hands and knees, on their hands and feet, or modified at the bar. Ana did them on the balls of her feet on her hands, the hardest version. "She was someone that you wanted to take class with because she made you work harder," Cimmino said. She noticed no injuries on Ana. Ana asked about Cimmino's schedule because she wanted to come to more classes. They talked for 15 to 20 minutes after class ended, so long that Cimmino had to cut the conversation short because her next class was starting.
The defense tried to poke holes. "You're not a doctor?" counsel asked. "I am not." "You didn't perform any medical tests on Anna Walsh on December 31st?" "No." "Are you aware of any pulmonary issues that were undiagnosed?" "Not that I saw." "Are you a pulmonologist?" "I am not." The defense is previewing their theory: that Ana died of natural causes, something called Sudden Unexplained Death Syndrome, and that Brian panicked and covered it up. They want to establish that these witnesses can't rule out an underlying medical condition they didn't know about.
Janet Cotter met Ana at a nail salon in Hingham on New Year's Eve. They sat side by side getting pedicures and struck up a conversation. Ana told this complete stranger that she worked in commercial real estate in Washington, that she lived part-time in DC and part-time in Cohasset, that she had three sons, that her husband was helpful with the children. Ana told her she was entertaining that night, having someone over for dinner. She mentioned a special dinner planned for New Year's Day in Marblehead that she was looking forward to, just her and her husband. The two women talked for 15 to 20 minutes. Cotter saw no injuries. Ana was "very friendly, very open and warm."
Hours later, according to prosecutors, Ana Walshe would be dead.
The prosecution's decision to call these witnesses in sequence was deliberate. The Bar Method instructor. The nail salon stranger. The Bar Method owner with the email from December 30th. Each one established that Ana was not depressed, not suicidal, not someone withdrawing from the world. She was engaged. She was planning. She was present. The contrast with what allegedly happened next could not be sharper.
This is how you build a circumstantial murder case when you don't have a body. You show who the victim was. You show what she was doing in the hours before she vanished. You show that nothing in her behavior suggested someone about to die. And then you show what the defendant did after she disappeared. The before and after. The healthy, vibrant woman exercising and making plans versus the husband whose phone traveled to dumpster after dumpster while her phone went silent forever.
There's another dimension to this testimony that the prosecution understands implicitly. These witnesses humanize Ana in ways that medical records and employment files cannot. The Bar Method community knew Ana as a dedicated member who showed up four times a week, who pushed through workouts, who engaged warmly with instructors. The nail salon stranger knew Ana for only 15 minutes but came away with a clear impression: warm, friendly, excited about her plans. These details matter because they give the jury a sense of the person who was lost. Not just a victim. Not just a name in a case file. A woman with a life.
The defense knows this is dangerous territory. The more the jury likes Ana, the more they want someone to pay for what happened to her. So defense counsel focused on the limits of what these witnesses could know. They weren't doctors. They didn't examine Ana medically. They couldn't rule out undiagnosed conditions. The questions seemed almost cold in context, but they served a strategic purpose: reminding the jury that healthy-looking people can have hidden medical issues, that apparent wellness doesn't guarantee wellness, that something other than murder could explain Ana's death.
Julie Bassler was the director of the Kinder Care in Norwell where Brian dropped off his two younger sons five days a week. She saw Brian almost every morning between 8:30 and 9:00. She had met Ana maybe three or four times, usually on Friday pickups. Brian was friendly. He would chat with the staff. He seemed invested in his sons' lives. He talked about the children's progress. Sometimes his mother, Diana Walsh, would come with him.
But in January 2023, something changed. On January 3rd and 4th, the Tuesday and Wednesday after Ana vanished, Brian's demeanor was "different." He came in with the boys and went through a different door, bypassing the office where Bassler and her assistant director usually greeted families. They said "Hi, Brian. Good morning." He was rushed. "Come on, boys. Let's go." No conversation. No small talk. Nothing like the other mornings when he would chat about how the boys were doing, how his night was, how their morning was going.
Defense counsel worked to establish that Brian had been a good, engaged father for the six or seven months the boys had been enrolled. He was friendly. He was engaging. He talked to the staff daily about his children's progress. He packed their bags every night or every morning with diapers, change of clothes, maybe a favorite stuffed animal. He was present in their lives. The implication: this is not a monster. This is a father. And maybe something other than murder explains why he seemed different on January 3rd and 4th.
Then came Sandra Hempel-Waldrop, the general manager of the Claremont Apartments in Abington. She maintains surveillance cameras at the apartment complex. Three cameras in the back parking lot, one at the front. Two gated dumpster areas with two dumpsters in one and one dumpster on the top of the hill. The dumpsters are private, for residents only, with signs saying they're under surveillance.
On January 3, 2023, at approximately 4:33 PM according to the surveillance timestamp, a Volvo XC90 pulled into the Claremont Apartments. Waldrop confirmed that none of her residents owned a Volvo XC90. The vehicle drove to the back parking lot, to the area where the gated dumpsters are located. The prosecution played the surveillance video for the jury. The dumpsters were picked up the next day, Wednesday, as part of the regular Monday, Wednesday, Friday schedule.
This is how the prosecution is building its case: not with eyewitnesses to murder, but with digital breadcrumbs. Surveillance footage. Cell phone pings. Google searches. Text messages. A picture emerging piece by piece of a man allegedly disposing of his wife's remains across multiple locations while pretending to search for her.
The final witness of Day 4 was Trooper Connor Keefe, a Massachusetts State Police digital forensics expert and cell phone record analyst. He has certifications from Cellebrite, a digital forensics company, including Cellebrite Certified Operator, Cellebrite Certified Physical Analyst, Cellebrite Advanced Smartphone Analyst, and Cellebrite Apple Forensic Fundamentals. He has taken cell phone record analysis classes from the FBI. He has a bachelor's degree from Providence College and served eight years as an officer in the Rhode Island Army National Guard.
Keefe's testimony was dense and technical, the kind of evidence that requires patience to follow but delivers devastating results. He analyzed Verizon records for three phone numbers: Ana's phone ending in 7966, an iPhone SE ending in 8028 registered to Diana Walsh (Brian's mother), and an iPhone 13 mini ending in 8646 also registered to Diana Walsh's address.
The Verizon data told a story. Ana's phone, the one ending in 7966, had its last interaction with the Verizon network where the company could estimate its location on January 2, 2023 at 3:14 AM. At that time, the phone was approximately a quarter mile from the cell tower on Reservoir Road in Cohasset, in the area of 516 Chief Justice Cushing Highway. That's the Walshe family home. After that, there was one more network event on January 2nd at 4:13 AM where the phone connected but Verizon couldn't estimate the distance. And then, on January 4th at 4:14 AM, there was a final signaling event where the network tried to connect with the device but was "unable to complete that transaction." The phone never connected to the network again.
Ana's phone went dark. Her Happy New Year text to William Fastow at midnight was among her last communications. By 3:14 AM on January 2nd, her phone was still in the area of her home. And then it stopped responding to the network entirely.
Think about what that means. Ana Walshe, a woman who communicated constantly with her lover, her friends, her colleagues, suddenly went silent. She didn't respond to Fastow's texts on January 1st. She didn't respond to his calls on January 2nd. She didn't answer when he called from a landline thinking she might have blocked his number. Her phone was there, in the area of her home, until the early morning hours of January 2nd. And then it wasn't. Either the phone was destroyed, or its battery died, or someone deliberately turned it off and disposed of it. The prosecution's theory is clear: Brian killed Ana, then systematically eliminated traces of her digital existence.
But Brian's phones kept moving. Keefe analyzed the native location data from the iPhone SE and iPhone 13 mini. Native location data is more precise than cell tower data because it draws from GPS satellites, Bluetooth beacons, wireless connections, and cell tower information combined. Keefe had approximately 40,000 to 50,000 data points between the two phones, generated every time apps used location services or the user accessed Apple Maps or Google Maps.
Keefe created a PowerPoint presentation mapping where the phones traveled. The iPhone SE, on January 1, 2023 at 5:07 PM, was at the Landing at Vinnon Square Apartments at 330 Paradise Road in Swampscott. That's where Diana Walsh, Brian's mother, lives. At 5:41 PM, the phone was at Lowe's Home Improvement in Danvers. At 6:24 PM, the CVS and Fair Bank parking lot in Danvers. At 6:53 PM, Stop and Shop Plaza in Swampscott. At 8:08 PM, Stop and Shop Plaza in Cohasset. At 8:31 PM, back in the area of 516 Chief Justice Cushing Highway. The phone traveled in a circuit that day, stopping at locations that would later become significant to the investigation.
The iPhone 13 mini traveled to similar locations on subsequent days. On January 2, 2023 at 4:15 PM, the phone was in the entrance parking lot of Home Depot in Rockland. At 5:14 PM, Derby Street Shops by Shake Shack in Hingham. At 6:00 PM and 6:13 PM, the Stop and Shop Plaza and Walgreens/Shaws Plaza in Cohasset. On January 3rd at 4:30 PM, the phone was at the Claremont Apartments and Chestnut Glenn in Abington, the same apartment complex where Sandra Hempel-Waldrop had surveillance footage of a Volvo XC90 at the dumpsters that afternoon. At 4:48 PM, the Point Apartments in Abington. At 5:14 PM, Cadam West Apartments in Brockton.
On January 4th, the phone was at HomeGoods/TJ Maxx Plaza in Norwell at 9:44 AM. At 12:47 PM, Shaws/Walgreens Plaza in Cohasset. At 4:25 PM, Lowe's Home Improvement in Weymouth. And on January 5th at 9:30 AM, the phone was in the southeast corner of the Landing at Vinnon Square Apartments at 330 Paradise Road in Swampscott, next to a large trash compactor. Keefe compared this to data from December 27th, 2022, when the same phone was at the same apartment complex but in a different location, actually inside the building. On January 5th, the phone was stationary near the trash compactor and did not appear to go inside.
The prosecution is showing the jury a pattern: Brian's phones traveling to hardware stores where cleaning supplies and tools were allegedly purchased, traveling to dumpster locations at apartment complexes where Ana's belongings and biological material were allegedly discarded, traveling to his mother's apartment building where blood was allegedly found in a dumpster. The phones tell the story the prosecution wants the jury to believe: a man systematically disposing of evidence while pretending to search for his missing wife.
Keefe also analyzed the Safari search history from the iPhone 13 mini. On December 25, 2022 at 12:09 PM, while Ana was driving from DC to Massachusetts after spending Christmas Eve with William Fastow, someone searched for "William Fastow DC real estate" and "Anna Walsh Tishman Spire." At 12:28 PM, there was a search for "Christmas Day plane crash." At 12:45 PM, a search for "Anna Walsh, found dead." Brian knew about Fastow, or at least suspected. He was searching for his wife's lover and searching for her death on the same day she was hours late coming home for Christmas.
On December 31st at 9:28 AM, just minutes after Ana finished her Bar Method class, the iPhone 13 mini was browsing casino websites: casinos.balies.com/lincoln and mgmspringfield.mgmresorts.com. The timestamps show someone was looking at MGM Springfield around 9:30 AM on New Year's Eve morning.
The text messages from the iPhone 13 mini were equally revealing. On January 3rd, Brian texted Ana's friend Alyssa Kirby: "Hello. I know we did this a week ago, but have you heard from Anna?" On January 4th at 10:33 AM, he texted Alexandra, another contact, via Viber: "They can't find her at work." At 10:59 AM, Alexandra texted back: "I think that you need to report this ASAP."
Brian also texted Jim Mutloo, the mutual friend who had introduced William Fastow and Ana, and sent a group text with Jim and Ana's phone: "Thomas just found my phone. It was in William's bed. Another amazing New Year Eve together as a triumvirate." The text referenced finding his phone in his son William's bed, explaining why he hadn't responded sooner. Jim texted back that his new necklace "made a big splash yesterday as I wore it everywhere. I got double takes in the streets and at Whole Foods in Swampscott." That text was read on Brian's phone at 4:13 PM on January 2nd, hours after Ana's phone had stopped connecting to the network.
Perhaps most chilling was the text exchange with Teresa from Tishman Speyer on January 5th. Teresa texted: "I adore Anna. Thinking of you and the boys. Please let me know if you need anything." Brian responded at 4:12 PM: "Good evening, Teresa. Thank you for your support during these difficult days. The private investigators wanted to know if Anna had any vacation days this week. Thank you again. Best Brian. PS. We adore Anna too. Looking forward to her coming home soon. And she spoke very highly of you always."
Looking forward to her coming home soon. By January 5th, according to the prosecution's theory, Ana had been dead for four days. Her body had been dismembered. Her remains had been scattered across dumpsters in multiple Massachusetts towns. Her phone hadn't connected to the network since the early morning hours of January 2nd. And Brian was texting her colleagues that he was looking forward to her coming home soon.
The defense has not disputed that Brian covered up Ana's death. They stipulated to the misleading police charge and the improper conveyance of remains charge before trial began. Their strategy is extraordinary: concede that Brian disposed of his wife's body while maintaining that he didn't kill her. Argue that Ana died of natural causes, perhaps Sudden Unexplained Death Syndrome, and that Brian panicked and made catastrophic decisions in the aftermath.
It's a desperate gamble, but what choice do they have? The Google searches starting at 4:52 AM on January 1st, the purchases of cleaning supplies and tools, the trips to dumpster after dumpster, the blood found in the home and basement, Ana's belongings recovered from trash facilities, the Tyvek suit, the hacksaw and hatchet with biological material on them. The evidence of cover-up is overwhelming. The only question for the jury is whether Brian caused Ana's death or merely concealed it.
The defense's burden is not to prove that Ana died of natural causes. That's not how our system works. The defense doesn't have to prove anything. They only have to raise reasonable doubt about the prosecution's theory. If even one juror believes it's reasonably possible that Ana died from something other than murder, that juror cannot vote to convict on the murder charge. The prosecution must eliminate that possibility beyond a reasonable doubt.
Can they do it? After Day 4, the evidence is mounting. The motive has been established: a wife having an affair, a husband who knew or suspected, the humiliation building over months. The opportunity has been established: Brian was home with Ana on New Year's Eve, the last person known to see her alive. The cover-up has been established in devastating detail: the searches, the purchases, the trips, the lies, the texts maintaining a facade of ignorance. What remains is the direct link between Brian and Ana's death. The prosecution will continue building that case in the days ahead.
Day 4 was constructed to answer the question that hangs over every murder case: why? The prosecution needed to establish motive because juries, despite instructions that motive isn't an element of murder, want to understand why someone would take a life. And the state's answer came in the form of William Fastow, a real estate broker from Washington, DC who was sleeping with the defendant's wife.
The strategic choice to lead with Fastow was calculated. The prosecution wanted the jury to see the affair not as tabloid gossip but as the context for everything that followed. Brian knew, or at least strongly suspected, that Ana was seeing someone else. He had searched for Fastow's name six times on Christmas Day. His mother had hired a private investigator to follow Ana in DC. The humiliation was festering. And then Ana missed Thanksgiving for a trip to Dublin with Fastow, missed Christmas Eve and most of Christmas Day because she was driving back from an overnight with Fastow, and was planning to miss New Year's Day to stay longer with her family in Cohasset.
Was Brian Walshe seething beneath the surface while his wife built a second life with another man? That's what the prosecution wants the jury to believe. The Christmas Day searches for "William Fastow DC real estate" and "Anna Walsh, found dead" suggest someone consumed with jealousy or rage or both. The defense counters that Brian trusted Ana, that she had mentioned crushes on other men over their decade together without it causing jealousy, that there was no evidence of a confrontation that weekend. But the prosecution doesn't need to prove a confrontation. They need to prove murder. And motive helps them get there.
The secondary witnesses on Day 4 served a different purpose: establishing that Ana was healthy and vibrant and making plans for the future in the hours before she vanished. The Bar Method instructor who watched Ana do pushups on her hands and feet, a "powerhouse" in class. The nail salon stranger who found Ana "warm and friendly" while they got pedicures on New Year's Eve. The Bar Method owner who received Ana's email on December 30th asking to sign up for unlimited classes. The daycare director who saw Ana on Friday pickups, who watched Brian drop off the boys every morning, who noticed his demeanor change on January 3rd and 4th.
These witnesses weren't there to prove murder. They were there to establish the "before" in a before-and-after narrative. This is who Ana Walshe was: healthy, engaged, planning for the future, present in the world. And then, suddenly, she wasn't. The contrast is the point. Women who are healthy and vibrant and making plans for the future don't just vanish. Something happened to her. Someone did something to her.
The digital forensics testimony from Trooper Connor Keefe was the technical backbone of Day 4. This is where the prosecution showed the jury the receipts: Ana's phone going dark at 3:14 AM on January 2nd, Brian's phones traveling to Home Depot and Lowe's and dumpster location after dumpster location, the Safari searches for William Fastow and "Anna Walsh found dead" on Christmas Day, the text messages where Brian pretended to search for his wife while prosecutors say he knew exactly where her remains were scattered.
The jury saw the PowerPoint presentation mapping the phone movements. They saw the timestamps. They saw the pattern emerge: a man whose phones traveled to hardware stores where cleaning supplies were purchased, to apartment complexes where surveillance cameras caught a Volvo at the dumpsters, to his mother's apartment building where blood was allegedly found in a trash compactor. The digital evidence doesn't prove murder directly, but it corroborates the prosecution's theory of how Brian allegedly disposed of Ana's body after killing her.
The defense will argue that these phone movements prove nothing about how Ana died. Brian has already admitted to disposing of remains. The trips to dumpsters are explained by his confession to improper conveyance. The shopping trips could have been for cleanup after discovering his wife's body from natural causes rather than cleanup after committing murder. The defense needs to create separation between the undisputed cover-up and the disputed killing.
But the prosecution's strategy is to make that separation impossible. If you believe Brian killed Ana, the cover-up makes sense. If you believe Ana died naturally and Brian panicked, you have to explain why a man whose wife just died would immediately start searching for ways to dispose of a body, why he would dismember her, why he would scatter her remains across multiple counties, why he would lie to police and friends and family for days while pretending to search for her. The prosecution is betting that the jury will find the natural death theory too absurd to credit.
There's another element of Day 4 that deserves attention: the smaller witnesses who filled in the gaps. Christopher Murphy, a painting company salesman, testified that Brian called him back on January 5th and 6th about a ceiling repair. Brian sent photos of ceiling damage. He was making appointments, conducting business, acting like a man whose life hadn't just collapsed. To the prosecution, this is evidence of cold calculation. To the defense, it might be evidence of a man in shock, going through the motions while his mind reels.
The surveillance footage from the Claremont Apartments is the kind of evidence that sticks with jurors. They saw a Volvo XC90 pull into the complex at 4:33 PM on January 3rd, drive to the back parking lot where the dumpsters are located, and stay for some period of time. The apartment manager confirmed that no residents owned that type of vehicle. Trooper Keefe's location data placed the iPhone 13 mini at that same location at approximately 4:30 PM on January 3rd. The dumpsters were emptied the next day. The circumstantial chain is tight: Brian's phone was at a dumpster location at the same time surveillance cameras captured a vehicle matching his at that same dumpster location, and the dumpster was emptied before investigators could search it.
The Verizon data telling the story of Ana's phone going dark is perhaps the most chilling evidence of all. At 3:14 AM on January 2nd, Ana's phone was still in the area of the Walshe home on Chief Justice Cushing Highway. The tower could estimate its distance at approximately a quarter mile. Then, at 4:13 AM, there was one more network event, but Verizon couldn't estimate the distance. And at 4:14 AM on January 4th, the network tried to connect with the phone and failed. After that, nothing. Ana's phone never spoke to the Verizon network again.
What happened between midnight on New Year's Eve, when Ana sent William Fastow a Happy New Year text, and 3:14 AM on January 2nd, when her phone last registered its location? That's the window when prosecutors say Ana died. The Google searches about body disposal began at 4:52 AM on January 1st, according to earlier testimony. If those searches were made before Ana died, they suggest premeditation. If they were made after she died, they suggest consciousness of guilt and an immediate turn toward concealment. Either way, they point toward murder rather than natural death.
The text messages that Trooper Keefe presented tell a story of a man maintaining a facade. Brian texted Ana's friends asking if they had heard from her. He texted her employer's security director. He texted William Fastow after receiving a voicemail from him. He texted Teresa at Tishman Speyer saying he was "looking forward to her coming home soon." All while, according to prosecutors, he knew exactly where Ana was: scattered in pieces across dumpsters in Massachusetts.
If you're a juror, you have to decide what these texts mean. Do they show a cold-blooded killer maintaining his cover story? Or do they show a panicked man who made catastrophic decisions and then tried to act normal while his world fell apart? The defense needs you to at least consider the second possibility. The prosecution needs you to find the first possibility proven beyond a reasonable doubt.
This case sits at the intersection of several critical legal questions that extend far beyond the Walshe family.
First, the burden of proof in a no-body murder case. Ana Walshe's remains have never been recovered. Prosecutors must prove beyond a reasonable doubt that she is dead and that Brian caused her death, all without a body, without a definitive cause of death, without an autopsy. This has been done before in Massachusetts and elsewhere, but it requires the prosecution to build an overwhelming circumstantial case. Every piece of evidence must point in the same direction. Every alternative explanation must be foreclosed. The standard is not "probably guilty" or "likely guilty." It's proof beyond a reasonable doubt.
The legal history of no-body murder prosecutions is instructive. Courts have long held that a corpus delicti, the body of the crime, can be established through circumstantial evidence. You don't need the literal body to prove someone is dead. But the standard is demanding. The prosecution must show that death occurred and that criminal agency caused it. In this case, the prosecution is relying on the blood evidence, the biological material found on dismemberment tools, the recovered personal belongings, and the Google searches to establish that Ana is dead and that she died as a result of criminal conduct rather than natural causes.
The defense's strategy of conceding the cover-up while contesting the killing is an acknowledgment of how strong the circumstantial evidence is. They can't dispute the Google searches, the purchases, the trips to dumpsters, the blood evidence, the recovery of Ana's belongings from trash facilities. So they're trying to reframe what that evidence means. Yes, Brian covered up a death. But did he cause the death he covered up?
This creates a fascinating legal dynamic. The prosecution has essentially received a guilty plea to misleading police and improper conveyance of remains without having to prove those charges. Now they only have to prove murder. But the defense has also received something: the ability to argue that the cover-up evidence doesn't prove murder, only concealment. It's a trade-off that will be tested in closing arguments.
The defense theory of Sudden Unexplained Death Syndrome deserves examination. SUDS is a real medical phenomenon where apparently healthy people die suddenly without an identifiable cause. It's rare, but it happens. The defense is essentially arguing that Ana was one of these rare cases, and that Brian's response to finding his wife dead was so catastrophic, so irrational, so destructive that he dismembered her body and scattered her remains rather than call 911. The prosecution will argue this is absurd. The defense will argue it's reasonable doubt.
What the defense needs the jury to believe is that Brian's behavior after Ana's death, while horrifying and illegal, doesn't prove he caused that death. They need one juror, maybe two, to say: "I believe Brian covered up Ana's death, but I can't be certain beyond a reasonable doubt that he killed her. The Google searches could have been made after he found her dead. The dismemberment could have been panic rather than premeditation. The lies could have been fear of wrongful accusation rather than consciousness of guilt from murder."
It's a thin reed. But reasonable doubt is the defendant's friend, and the defense only needs to plant it, not prove anything.
Second, the role of digital evidence in modern criminal trials. Trooper Keefe's testimony showcased how much our phones know about us: where we go, when we go there, what we search for, who we communicate with, when we read messages. The native location data from Brian's phones created a map of his movements precise enough to place him at specific dumpster locations at specific times. The Safari search history revealed his internet queries on Christmas Day and beyond. The text messages showed his communications with Ana's friends and colleagues in the days after she vanished.
This level of digital surveillance raises profound questions about privacy in the modern age. Brian voluntarily turned over his devices to help find his missing wife, as any innocent husband might do. But those devices then became the prosecution's most powerful evidence against him. When you hand your phone to police to help find your missing spouse, are you consenting to investigators combing through every search, every message, every location data point? The defense raised Fourth Amendment objections pretrial, arguing that the search exceeded the scope of consent. The judge allowed the evidence, but the constitutional questions remain.
Think about what this means for all of us. Our phones are constantly generating data about our lives. Every search, every map query, every text message creates a record that could be used against us if circumstances ever put us under suspicion. Brian Walshe's case is an extreme example, but the principles apply broadly. What are the limits of consent when you give your phone to police? What constitutes a "search" in the digital age? When does cooperation become self-incrimination?
These questions matter beyond this courtroom. The Fourth Amendment was written in an era of physical searches and seizures. It has been adapted, often clumsily, to the digital age. Cases like this one test the boundaries of those adaptations. And the answers we reach will shape privacy rights for everyone.
Third, the nature of circumstantial evidence and how juries evaluate it. There are no eyewitnesses to Ana Walshe's death. No one saw Brian kill her. No one heard a struggle. The prosecution's case is built entirely on circumstantial evidence: the Google searches, the phone movements, the purchases, the blood evidence, the recovered belongings, the surveillance footage, the changed demeanor at daycare, the lies told to police. Each piece alone might have an innocent explanation. But taken together, the prosecution argues, they form a picture that leads to only one reasonable conclusion.
Circumstantial evidence is neither weaker nor stronger than direct evidence under the law. A conviction based entirely on circumstantial evidence is just as valid as one based on eyewitness testimony. In fact, circumstantial evidence is sometimes more reliable because it doesn't depend on the accuracy of human memory or perception. A phone was either at a location or it wasn't. A search was either made or it wasn't. The evidence exists independent of what anyone claims to have seen.
But circumstantial evidence must be evaluated carefully. The jury instruction will tell them that if the evidence is equally consistent with guilt and innocence, they must find the defendant not guilty. The question is whether the totality of circumstances points so strongly in one direction that the alternative explanations become unreasonable.
The defense will argue that circumstantial evidence, no matter how voluminous, cannot eliminate reasonable doubt when the central question remains unanswered: how did Ana die? Without a body, without an autopsy, without a definitive cause of death, how can the prosecution prove murder beyond a reasonable doubt? The jury must decide whether the totality of circumstances forecloses the possibility that Ana died of natural causes and Brian, in a panic, made the catastrophic decision to dispose of her body rather than call 911.
My father, Steven M. Askin, spent his career teaching people that the burden of proof matters. That the presumption of innocence isn't just a nice sentiment but the foundation of our justice system. That the state must prove its case beyond a reasonable doubt, and if it can't, the defendant must be acquitted regardless of whether he "probably" did it or "likely" did it. Brian Walshe is presumed innocent until proven guilty. The prosecution must prove every element of first-degree murder, including that Brian killed Ana with deliberate premeditation. If the jury has reasonable doubt about any element, they must acquit on that charge.
That's a high bar. The prosecution clearly believes they can clear it. The defense is betting they can't.
Day 4 represents the prosecution's transition from establishing the timeline of Ana's disappearance to building the case for why Brian killed her. The first three days focused on what happened: the missing person report, the searches, the discovery of evidence in trash facilities, the Google search history. Day 4 focused on why: the affair, the jealousy, the digital footprint that suggests a man obsessed with his wife's lover. The prosecution is layering its case methodically, showing the jury not just the mechanics of an alleged murder and cover-up but the human motivations that might have driven someone to kill.
The testimony also served to humanize Ana in ways that earlier witnesses couldn't. William Fastow knew Ana intimately. He could speak to her character, her dreams, her struggles with being separated from her children. The Bar Method instructors knew her as a dedicated client who pushed herself physically and engaged warmly with the community. The nail salon stranger saw a friendly woman excited about plans with her husband. These details matter because they make Ana real to the jury, not just a victim but a person with a life that was taken from her.
Consider the picture of Ana that has emerged over four days of testimony. She was a Serbian immigrant who came to America in 2005 and built a successful career in real estate and hospitality. She rose to a position at Tishman Speyer, one of the largest real estate companies in the world, earning close to $300,000 a year. She bought a $1.3 million townhouse in DC and furnished bedrooms for her three sons, waiting for the day they could all be together. She worked out four times a week, pushing herself physically. She made plans. She engaged with people. She was present in the world.
And she was struggling. Her husband's federal case kept the family separated. Brian couldn't leave Massachusetts because of his home confinement. The children stayed with him because his conditions required him to be their primary caregiver. Ana commuted between DC and Cohasset, spending weekdays at her dream job and weekends with her family. She missed holidays because of travel complications. She felt she couldn't be the mother her children deserved. She found comfort in another man's arms.
None of this makes Ana a bad person. It makes her a human being navigating an impossible situation. The defense will try to use the affair to suggest Ana wasn't who she seemed, that she was capable of deception, that her marriage was already fractured. The prosecution will use the affair to suggest motive: a humiliated husband who couldn't bear to lose his wife, his breadwinner, his ticket to avoiding federal prison.
The defense has a difficult task in responding to this testimony. They can't dispute that Ana had an affair. They can't dispute that Brian knew or suspected. They can't dispute the phone movements or the search history. Their only argument is that none of this proves murder. And they have to make that argument while having already admitted that Brian dismembered his wife's body and scattered her remains across Massachusetts.
This is the extraordinary position the defense has put itself in: conceding everything except the killing. Yes, Brian lied to police. Yes, Brian disposed of remains. Yes, Brian's phones traveled to dumpster after dumpster. Yes, Brian searched for William Fastow on Christmas Day. Yes, Brian texted Ana's colleagues pretending to look for her. All of that is admitted or undisputed. The only question left is whether Brian killed Ana or merely covered up her death from natural causes.
It's a legal strategy born of desperation, but desperation doesn't mean it's wrong. The burden remains on the prosecution to prove murder beyond a reasonable doubt. And if even one juror believes the natural death theory is possible, if even one juror can't say with moral certainty that Brian killed Ana rather than just disposing of her body, the first-degree murder charge fails.
The prosecution still has significant evidence to present. DNA testimony will connect the biological material found on tools and in dumpsters to Ana. More digital forensics will detail the Google searches about body disposal that began at 4:52 AM on January 1st. Medical experts may testify about what the blood evidence reveals. The state will continue building its case piece by piece, each witness adding another layer to the circumstantial foundation.
The coming days will likely include testimony about the items recovered from trash facilities: Ana's personal belongings, the Tyvek protective suit, the hacksaw and hatchet with biological material, the bloody towels and clothing. The physical evidence is devastating. It paints a picture of systematic dismemberment and disposal. But it doesn't directly answer the question of how Ana died. That's the gap the defense will try to exploit. That's where reasonable doubt may live or die.
If you're Ana's family, watching this trial unfold, Day 4 must have been particularly painful. Hearing William Fastow testify about his relationship with your daughter, your sister, your friend. Hearing him describe her last text message to him. Hearing the voicemail where Brian asks for help finding her, knowing what the prosecution says Brian had already done. The grief must be compounded by the public exposure of Ana's private life, her struggles, her choices. You want justice for Ana. You want someone to pay for what happened to her. And you have to sit in that courtroom and listen to defense attorneys question whether your loved one really was murdered at all.
If you're Brian Walshe, sitting at the defense table, Day 4 was about watching your life dissected in public. Your wife's affair laid bare for the jury. Your Christmas Day searches read into the record. Your phone movements mapped and analyzed. Your text messages displayed on screens for everyone to see. Whatever happened on January 1, 2023, Brian is living with the consequences in the most public way possible. His children have lost their mother and may lose their father. His decisions, whatever they were, have destroyed multiple lives.
And if you're one of the jurors, you're beginning to see the shape of the case you'll have to decide. You've heard the Google searches. You've seen where the phones traveled. You've met the man Ana was sleeping with. You've seen the surveillance footage of a Volvo at the dumpsters. Now you have to ask yourself: does all of this add up to proof beyond a reasonable doubt that Brian Walshe murdered his wife? Or is there room for another explanation, however unlikely it may seem?
The prosecution will continue presenting its case in the coming days. Several key areas remain:
DNA evidence connecting the biological material found on tools and in dumpsters to Ana Walshe. This is critical for establishing that the remains were hers and that the tools were used in dismemberment.
Additional digital forensics detailing the Google searches about body disposal. The jury has heard about some of these searches, but the full progression from "how long before a body smells" to "hacksaw best tool for dismembering" to "can you be charged with murder without a body" will be presented in detail.
Medical and forensic expert testimony about what the blood evidence reveals. Can experts determine how Ana died from the evidence recovered? Can they establish timing?
The surveillance footage from multiple locations. The jury saw one video from the Claremont Apartments. More footage from other locations may be presented to corroborate the phone location data.
Additional witnesses who interacted with Brian in the days after Ana vanished. His demeanor, his statements, his behavior all become evidence of consciousness of guilt or, alternatively, of a man in shock after discovering his wife's body.
Watch for how the defense responds to each piece of evidence. Their strategy requires creating separation between the cover-up and the killing. Every time the prosecution presents evidence of disposal, the defense must remind the jury that disposal doesn't prove murder. Every time the prosecution presents evidence of motive, the defense must remind the jury that motive alone isn't proof.
Watch for the constitutional issues that may arise. The digital evidence is the heart of the prosecution's case, and any successful challenge to its admissibility could be devastating. The defense has already lost pretrial motions on this front, but appeals are possible if Brian is convicted.
Watch for how the jury responds to the expert testimony. Digital forensics and DNA evidence can be overwhelming for lay jurors. The prosecution must make this evidence understandable without losing its impact. The defense must find ways to create doubt without disputing the underlying science.
You've now heard about Ana's affair. You've seen the phone data showing where Brian traveled in the days after she vanished. You've heard the voicemail where Brian asked her lover for help finding her. You know that Brian has already admitted to disposing of Ana's remains.
Here are the questions I want you to think about:
If you were on this jury, would the affair evidence affect how you view the case? Does it establish motive, or is it just salacious detail that proves nothing about what happened on January 1st?
The defense says Ana died of natural causes and Brian panicked. Based on what you've heard so far, does that explanation seem reasonable to you? Or does the extent of the cover-up suggest something more? Consider this: if your spouse died suddenly of natural causes in your home, would your first instinct be to dismember their body and scatter the remains in dumpsters? Or would you call 911? The defense needs you to believe that Brian's response, however irrational, doesn't prove murder. What do you think?
Brian texted Teresa from Tishman Speyer on January 5th: "Looking forward to her coming home soon." If you believe the prosecution's timeline, Ana had been dead for four days and her remains were scattered across Massachusetts. What does that text tell you about Brian's state of mind? Is it evidence of cold, calculated deception? Or is it evidence of a man in such deep denial or shock that he's going through the motions of normalcy while his mind refuses to accept what he's done?
Think about William Fastow sitting on that witness stand. He was planning a future with Ana. They had made 1, 3, 5, and 10 year plans together. And then he got a voicemail from her husband asking for help finding her, not knowing that the man on the other end of that call allegedly already knew where Ana was. Can you imagine receiving that voicemail? Can you imagine going to her townhouse, opening the garage with the code her husband gave you, looking for a woman who you'll later learn was already dead? What does it mean that Brian reached out to his wife's lover for help?
Think about the burden of proof. The prosecution must prove murder beyond a reasonable doubt. Not probably. Not likely. Beyond a reasonable doubt. Based on what you've heard so far, is that burden being met? What would you need to see or hear to be convinced one way or the other?
And think about what reasonable doubt means in a case like this. The defense doesn't have to prove that Ana died of natural causes. They just have to raise enough doubt that you can't be certain beyond a reasonable doubt that Brian killed her. Is the natural death theory reasonable, or is it so far-fetched that no reasonable person could accept it? That's the question that will determine this case.
This is what it means to be a citizen in a system that presumes innocence. We don't just watch trials. We think about them. We wrestle with the evidence. We ask ourselves what we would do if we were in that jury box. The answers aren't always easy. They shouldn't be. A man's freedom and a woman's justice both hang in the balance.
The prosecutors believe they have built a case that proves murder beyond a reasonable doubt. They have shown motive. They have shown opportunity. They have shown cover-up so extensive that it defies innocent explanation. They will continue presenting evidence in the days ahead, and when they're done, they will ask the jury to find Brian Walshe guilty of first-degree murder.
The defense believes they can raise reasonable doubt. They have conceded the cover-up to focus the jury on the single question that matters: did Brian kill Ana? They will argue that the prosecution's case, however compelling, cannot answer that question beyond a reasonable doubt when there is no body, no cause of death, no murder weapon definitively identified. They will ask the jury to hold the state to its burden.
My father spent his career teaching people to think like this. To question. To analyze. To never accept the prosecution's narrative just because it sounds compelling. To hold the state to its burden even when the defendant is sympathetic and even when the defendant is not. The system only works if we force it to work. If we watch. If we think. If we refuse to let verdicts be reached on emotion alone.
Brian Walshe has admitted to horrific acts. He has admitted to disposing of his wife's remains. He has admitted to lying to police. Those admissions make him deeply unsympathetic. But the question before the jury is not whether Brian Walshe is a good person. The question is whether the prosecution has proven beyond a reasonable doubt that he murdered his wife. Those are different questions with different answers.
Watch the testimony. Think about what you see. Rewatch the key moments. Ask yourself the hard questions. And remember that three young boys, now 9, 7, and 5 years old, are waiting to learn what happened to their family. Whatever the jury decides, those boys have already lost their mother. They may lose their father too. The stakes of getting this right could not be higher.
Ana Walshe deserves justice. Brian Walshe deserves a fair trial. The system must deliver both. That's what my father believed. That's what I believe. And that's why we watch.
This is justice. This is the process. And we're watching it together.