A lack of clarity is precisely the point. By waddling in a different pile of dirt, this Shady Lady hoped to refocus the blame on parties who could do her harm. She could never hope for a divorce. Her options were limited by factors out of her control. Not even Houdini himself could escape these handcuffs! Dalia was in a bind, so she chooses ‘Reality TV.’ Smart move girl.
Albeit Dalia had scammed before. The ruthless model had tapped a rich architect from California for a 40K engagement ring and a new Mercedes. It’s not exactly clear whether they were just engaged or whether they married? Our information comes from ‘the informant’ who was the one who set Dalia up. In any case, she established precedents by way of MOs of gold-digging chicanery.
What is clear, however, is that Dalia’s personality changed during her time in California. She learned her trade well in a massage/tanning parlor and then graduated to an escort/date service, the upper echelons of a call girl career. When moving back to Florida, Dalia earned her real estate license, refining her manipulative charms over men.
Michael and Dalia met under precarious circumstances. In October of 2008, Michael’s wife, Maria Dippolito, was out of town. Dalia paid a visit to Michael’s Boca Rotan office as an escort. The two fell in love, Michael secured a divorce from Maria, then in January of 2009, Michael and Dalia hurriedly hitched up at the Palm Beach County courthouse.
Such an impetuous, whirlwind marriage may have set the stage for an unwinding of events. One thing that is boring, now Dalia had to stay at home, or just go shopping, or to the gym (the housewife trip!). She was young and used to a lot of action, but now she found herself contained in a little cage like a parakeet. And Dalia had such drastic disdain for Michael’s mother too. “I think his psycho trailer trash mom is coming today,” reads one text message to a friend.
Quite a bit of money ($100,000) was transferred over to Dalia by Michael, but why? He also signed over the deed of his townhouse ($225,000) to his new bride, Dalia. Once again, why would he do something as crazy as this? This, I believe, gets at the heart of why Dalia decided to put a contract out on her husband. ‘Little Miss Strange’ was playing hardball for keeps now! Murder-for-Hire as a preemptive strike!
I’m just playing the ‘psychological card’ today. Dancing around the issues, looking for answers to these blood-curdling secrets. Your best source for the meat and potatoes of this chilling case lie in a touch-all Broward/Palm Beach article entitled: Dalia Dippolito May Have Tried to Kill Him, But Michael Dippolito Is No Saint, by Lisa Rab.
From what I can tell, Lisa Rab is an expert on Dalia and Michael Dippolito. Lisa has done exemplary, primary research (she may even be an investigative reporter) on this case and has exposed the kind of painful detail that makes your head spin in shock. And the crazy thing is, that as bad as Dalia seems, or as bad as she appears to us through the filter of the media, Michael is equally nefarious.
With Lisa’s script by my side, my purpose is quite different. What I’m aiming for is what constitutes the emotional or psychological state of little Miss Dalia when she tells an undercover cop with ‘batting eyelashes’, “but I just want to make sure everything’s gonna get taken care of.” Was there a boldness, a tone of assertiveness to her statement, or rather was she simply defensive, coiling like a trapped cobra reacting to the seeds of her own demise?
There was no easy way out for this tottering babeola. Now she was up to her neck in grimy mud. Even killing her husband would not free her up from ‘obligations.’ My meaning is not clear, nor is it clear just what Dalia hoped to gain by having her husband killed. She had spent the $100,000 he gave her as restitution for the victims of his ‘investment schemes.’ She was already boxed in, if you get my drift?
Here lies the rub. Perhaps she knew she’d be caught, perhaps she even wanted to be nabbed. This would protect her from the kind of associations that could get her stuffed in a barrel, and tossed in the Bay of Biscayne. Get out your Sopranos Box Set at this juncture for fodder of comparable predicaments. Dalia was in bed with Goodfellas now – no way out, no exit! How this exactly ties together, I can’t say, nor do I particularly want to learn how it all fits together nicely.
Dalia is better off in jail, at least she will live. But she won’t be relaxing on sunny Palm Beach sands any time soon. Yet currently she is under house arrest, living with her mother in Boynton Beach. Hopefully, she has some protection from the cops? What was she thinking when she spent the $100,000 anyway? And will she ever be able to enjoy the townhouse that Michael gave her? No, never!
The account of how the police, (with the aid of an informant who turned on Dalia), ensnarled her and got her to say she was “5,000 percent sure” she wanted her husband dead, is as dramatic as it can be. I have no proof, but I suspect that Dalia knew she was being set up, and acted her way through the drama as if she was on the set of the soap opera, As the World Turns.
It’s funny how the interpretation of evidence can differ so drastically. Dalia made some very dumb moves early on that she could not reverse so easily. Marriage wasn’t such a good fit for a carefree girl such as her. And her dear friend the informant was not such a good ear to hear her words of poison, her boastful plot to have her husband killed. Dalia abandoned all caution to the wind, texting friends of her ill-intentions, and even telling strangers at a clothing store once of her ghastly gambits.
Most odd of all to me is that her husband Michael didn’t suspect her whatsoever of foul play. When she doused his tea with antifreeze, he spit it out quickly without a thought. Why did he not suspect that his dear wife was trying to poison him? And who did he think was planting all those drugs on his property and calling the cops to set him up for a bust? Maybe he was in denial?
This is very crazy story, and I am still sorting out all the dirty laundry, or better yet, sorting out the ‘dirty laundering.’ Things don’t add up. I don’t believe they were ever intended to add up. South Florida is a zany place, that much I know for certain. I will have to vacation some day soon on the sunny beaches of the Atlantic coast for myself. Do some snooping around, frivolous private-eyeing while I’m at it. But don’t need any headache/heartache while I try to get some R and R. Big Al liked to relax himself at his second home in Miami-just a getaway from business and the windy cold of Chicago, I suppose?
Dalia Dippolito May Have Tried to Kill Him, But Michael Dippolito Is No Saint, by Lisa Rab.
The police tell Dalia Dippolito that her husband has been killed.
