I should've sensed what she was capable of and ran the other way.

We spent the next few days planning the whole thing out. If her
little bowling-ball malfunction didn't show me what was really
going in that head of hers, her proficiency at planning a murder
should have.

At the time all I thought was, "Sure, she's a robot, of course she
would be good at planning a murder. It's how they think."

It turned out she already had his clone wrapped around her finger.
He was in love with her.  He was engineered to be slow in the
intelligence department; all he could really do was perform some
menial tasks around the house. Somehow, though, she had managed to
spark some dormant impulse deep within his genetic code and he had
fallen for her. She assured me she could get him to do anything.

Of course, we couldn't actually get him to, you know, commit the
murder. There were too many fail-safes programmed into the genes of
those...things. The triple indemnity clause was rarely invoked.
Clones could still accidentally kill in the same way humans
sometimes could, but they couldn't intentionally do it.

Her husband - Walsh was his name - was due to attend a business
meeting on IO in a month. She said that he always went on a space
walk on the return trip. That was where we would do it. We'd murder
him, let the clone take the blame, and ride off into the sunset
with our bags of money.

Easy, huh? At this point I trusted her with everything. Planning a
murder together has a way of bringing people closer, whether you
like it or not. She had me all wrapped up in the details and in the
pictures she painted of our life together afterwards. There was
only one catch. She was like the clone, it was impossible for her
to actually kill Walsh. So, she turned to me and asked if I was
prepared to kill someone. She told me it wouldn't be pretty and she
would understand if I was queasy about it.

Looking into those glossy blue eyes of hers, I didn't hesitate for
a second. I said I'd kill him for her.