He became whatever each person required.
In the high desert of New Mexico, a man who had already shed one life and one name after a deadly fire in Monaco built a second identity — and a second marriage — only to unravel both through forgery, theft, and a murder-for-hire plot against the wife he had deceived. The conviction of Jon Green, born Ted Maher, is less a story of crime than of the long, patient return of a self that cannot be remade. What endures, in the end, is not the alias but the pattern — and the quiet vigilance of the woman left to live in its shadow.
- A man who reinvented himself after a Monaco prison conviction for arson that killed two people was found, decades later, to have never truly changed — only relocated.
- His estranged wife, Dr. Kim Lark, discovered the deception through a stolen checkbook and security footage, then faced something far worse when her three beloved search-and-rescue dogs were taken from her.
- From a jail cell, the man allegedly recruited a fellow detainee to murder Kim, offering detailed instructions — poison disguised as an overdose, her dogs used as leverage — in exchange for bail money.
- A jury needed just one hour to convict him; a nine-year sentence was handed down, but with time served, he could be free by 2029 — a date Kim Lark marks with dread.
- Kim now lives in a state of permanent alertness, her trained dogs always at her side, the only protection she trusts against a man who, she believes, is not finished with her.
In 2017, a man calling himself Jon Green walked into a New Mexico medical clinic and met Dr. Kim Lark. He was charming and attentive, and within three years they were married on Valentine's Day. Kim had built a stable life — a medical practice, a retirement account, a four-acre property outside Carlsbad. She believed she knew her husband. She did not.
Green had told Kim early on about a past accusation — a fire in Monaco, a billionaire banker who died, a conviction he called a frame-up. She wanted to believe him. But in April 2022, her checkbook went missing and bank security footage showed Green forging her signature on checks. She filed for divorce. A month later, he took her three search-and-rescue dogs — Storm, Zero, and Felony — animals she had trained for years alongside FEMA and law enforcement. Zero was pregnant. Kim was terrified.
A retired FBI agent named Abel Peña tracked Green to a San Antonio parking lot, where he was arrested arriving in a BMW with a freshly shaved head. The dogs weren't with him, but a nearby house led Peña to all three — plus eight newborn puppies. Kim named one of them Abel.
From the Eddy County Detention Center, Green allegedly began plotting something worse. He befriended a fellow detainee named Greg Markham, and over daily chess games, Markham says Green grew obsessed with having Kim killed — describing how to poison her with fentanyl in a water bottle, how to use her dogs as leverage. Markham, desperate for bail money to save his own dog from euthanasia, agreed to help. Green paid his bail. In March 2025, a jury deliberated for one hour before convicting Green of solicitation to commit first-degree murder. He was sentenced to nine years; with time served, he could be released in 2029.
But Jon Green was not always Jon Green. Twenty-six years earlier, he was Ted Maher — a nurse from New York who took a job caring for Edmond Safra, one of the world's wealthiest men, in a Monaco penthouse. On December 3, 1999, a fire killed Safra and another nurse, Vivian Torrente. Maher was wounded and told authorities he had lit a small fire hoping to trigger smoke detectors. He was convicted of arson leading to two deaths. In January 2003, he sawed through prison bars and escaped, calling his wife Heidi for money. She refused. He was recaptured and released in 2007, returning to America alone, carrying a name weighted by two deaths. So he became someone else.
In a video interview in March 2026, Maher again denied everything — the murder plot, the Monaco fire, the false military service he had claimed for years. The Army confirmed there is no record of him in the Special Forces. Kim Lark, meanwhile, keeps her dogs with her at all times. She does not trust easily. She is always watching. When 2029 comes, she says, she will be in danger. The dogs follow her everywhere — and with them, she is never entirely alone.
In a small New Mexico city surrounded by red desert, a man named Jon Green walked into a medical clinic in 2017 and charmed a doctor named Kim Lark. He was smiling, attentive, interested in everything she liked. Within months they were dating. Within three years they were married on Valentine's Day 2020. By then, Kim had built a comfortable life: a thriving medical practice, an $800,000 retirement account, a four-acre home outside Carlsbad. She thought she knew who she had married. She was wrong.
Early in their relationship, Green told Kim about his past—a false accusation of arson more than two decades earlier, he said, in Monte Carlo. A billionaire banker had died in a fire. Green claimed he was innocent, framed by authorities who needed a quick resolution. Kim wanted to believe him. He said all the right things, did all the things a best friend should do. But in April 2022, her checkbook went missing. The bank called. Her husband had been forging her signature on thousands of dollars in checks, caught on security footage at banks across town. Kim filed for divorce and changed the locks. A month later, Green took something far more precious: her three search-and-rescue dogs—Storm, Zero, and Felony—animals she had trained for years to work with FEMA and law enforcement, dogs she carried with her everywhere, dogs she loved with an intensity that made her voice break when she spoke about them. Zero was pregnant. Kim was terrified.
She reached out to Abel Peña, a retired FBI agent who ran a nonprofit finding missing people. Peña took the case. For more than a month he had no leads on the dogs, but he got a tip about Green himself. On June 13, 2022, Peña staked out a parking lot in San Antonio and watched authorities arrest Green as he arrived in a BMW, his head freshly shaved. The dogs weren't in the car. But Peña followed another lead to a house nearby, knocked on the door, and found an older woman who seemed to be expecting him. "I know why you're here," she said. "Come on in." In a back bedroom, Peña found all three dogs—and eight newborn puppies in a box. He was ecstatic. When Kim arrived to collect them, she was so grateful she named one of the puppies Abel.
Green sat in the Eddy County Detention Center in Carlsbad, charged with forgery and larceny. There he met Greg Markham, a man detained on drug charges. They played chess every day. Markham says Green was furious with Kim and kept asking if he knew someone who could kill her. Markham, desperate for bail money to save his own dog from being euthanized, saw an opportunity. He told Green he could do it. He promised. Green paid for his bail. Then Markham says Green wouldn't stop talking about it—describing in detail how he wanted his wife to die. Poison her with fentanyl in a water bottle to make it look like an overdose. If she refused, Green's plan was to threaten her dogs with a gun. "She'll do whatever you want done," Markham testified Green had said. When investigators questioned Green in September 2023, he denied everything. "Absolutely not," he said. But in March 2025, a jury deliberated for just an hour and convicted him of solicitation to commit first-degree murder. Judge David Finger sentenced him to nine years. With time served, he'll be out in less than three.
But this man—this Jon Green—had lived another life under another name, and that life held a darker mystery. Twenty-six years before the dogs were stolen in New Mexico, a fire roared through a penthouse in Monaco. It was October 1999 when Ted Maher, then a neonatal intensive care nurse, took a job as private nurse to Edmond Safra, one of the richest men on earth. Safra owned a bank and lived with his wife Lily in a penthouse above a branch in the Monte Carlo district. Maher's own wife, Heidi, whom he had met in nursing school, was back in New York with their two children. Maher told her he had served as a Special Forces Green Beret—a detail that would later prove false. He seemed defined by intensity and compassion. Heidi believed in him.
On December 3, 1999, just five weeks after Maher arrived in Monaco, Heidi got a call from Ted's sister. "Turn on the news," she said, crying. Two masked men had invaded the penthouse. There was a fire. Safra and another nurse, Vivian Torrente, were dead from smoke inhalation. Maher was wounded and bloody. He told authorities that intruders had attacked him, that he had scrambled to get help, that he lit a small fire thinking it would trigger the smoke detectors and bring firefighters quickly. Heidi heard he was a hero. She flew to Monaco. Instead of seeing her husband, she says police intercepted her, took her passport, and told her Ted would be tortured and she would be strip-searched unless he confessed. Under that pressure, Maher recanted. He said there were no intruders. He said he had stabbed himself with a knife to make himself look like a hero. He signed a confession written in French, a language he did not understand.
Maher was convicted of arson leading to two deaths and sentenced to ten years. But seven weeks after the trial, in January 2003, he called Heidi from outside the prison. He had cut through the metal bars and scaled the walls. He was out. He asked for money. Heidi said no. He got angry. She filed for divorce. When Maher was released in 2007, no one was waiting for him at JFK. He was alone in America with a name that carried the weight of two deaths. So he became Jon Green. He drove trucks. He tried to disappear into a new life. But the pattern held. The deception, the charm, the theft, the violence—it all came back.
When we spoke to him by video in March 2026, Maher insisted once again that he was framed. He said he never instructed Markham to kill Kim. The $2,500 was to help rescue Markham's dog, he said. As for the diagram Markham drew of Kim's house—showing the power source, the safe, details only someone who lived there would know—Maher said it wasn't accurate, that Markham had simply overheard him talking about electrical panels and a bookcase he'd moved. He said he still loved Kim. He said he was a good man taken advantage of by others. When asked if he felt responsible for Safra's death, he said no. The Army later confirmed what Maher had hedged in our interview: there is no evidence he ever served in the Special Forces. Kim Lark, meanwhile, lives with her dogs always at her side. She does not trust anyone. She is always on alert. When Maher is released in 2029, she says, she will be in trouble. Detective Garrett Silva, who helped build the murder case, told us that if he were in her position, he would keep a dog by his side for protection. That is exactly what Kim is doing. The dogs follow her everywhere. With them, she is never really alone.
Citas Notables
He's a thief, he's a liar, a con artist. When he gets out, I'll be in trouble.— Dr. Kim Lark
There is a chance in my mind now that he did orchestrate that.— Jennifer Thomas, co-author who once believed Maher's innocence
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
How do you explain a man who tells the same story twice—once in Monaco, once in New Mexico—and both times says he's innocent?
The pattern is what matters. In Monaco he said intruders attacked him. In New Mexico he said he was just having casual conversations about his house. Both times he's the victim of circumstance, never the architect of it.
But people believed him. His wife Heidi believed him. The authors believed him. How does someone do that?
He's very good at reading what people need to hear. Heidi needed a hero. The authors needed a miscarriage of justice. Kim needed someone who understood her world. He became whatever each person required.
The dogs matter in this story, don't they? Not just as objects he stole, but as something deeper.
They're the one thing Kim couldn't forgive him for taking. Money, her signature, her trust—those could be recovered or replaced. But the dogs were her life. They were her bond with something true. That's why she keeps them close now.
Do you think he actually tried to have her killed?
The jury thought so. Markham knew details about her house that are hard to explain away. But Maher has spent 26 years telling stories that almost make sense, that have just enough plausibility to create doubt. That's his real skill.
What happens when he gets out in 2029?
That's the question Kim is living with every day. He'll be a man with nothing to lose and a history of reinvention. She's preparing for that by never being unprepared. The dogs aren't just company—they're her early warning system.
Is he guilty of both crimes, or neither, or something in between?
Maybe the truth is that he's guilty of the thing that matters most: he's a man who will say anything to survive, who will hurt anyone to get what he wants, and who will never admit it.