Brendan Banfield, former IRS special agent, stands accused of masterminding one of the most chilling double murders in recent Virginia history. On a cold February morning in 2023, inside the family home on Grace Street in Herndon, his wife Christine Banfield was stabbed more than a dozen times and Joseph Ryan, an IT specialist lured there under false pretenses, was shot dead. The architect of the carnage, according to prosecutors and the testimony of his former lover, was Banfield himself—driven by an intense affair with the couple’s 25-year-old Brazilian au pair, Juliana Peres Magalhães.

Magalhães, who pleaded guilty to voluntary manslaughter in October 2024 and is cooperating fully with authorities, took the stand this week in Fairfax County Circuit Court and delivered a devastating account. She described how Banfield seduced her shortly after she arrived in 2019, turning a standard au pair arrangement into a secret sexual relationship that lasted years. “He told me Christine was unhappy, that their marriage was over long before I came,” she testified, voice low but steady. “He said if we removed her, we could be together openly—no divorce, no custody battle, no financial ruin.”

The plan, as Magalhães recounted it, crystallized in late 2022. Banfield allegedly began “preparing the house.” First came the installation of expensive triple-pane windows throughout the residence. Window salesman Matthew Niederriter testified that Banfield requested the thickest, most sound-dampening glass available—far beyond typical needs for a suburban home near Dulles Airport. “He paid extra for acoustic upgrades,” Niederriter said. “I asked why and he mentioned noise from planes and the fire station. But the level he wanted was more like trying to make the house silent from the inside out.”

Magalhães filled in the motive behind the windows. “We tested them,” she said. “He would have me scream as loud as I could from the master bedroom while he stood in the driveway or on the sidewalk. Then he’d come back inside and say, ‘Not loud enough—try again.’ We did this five or six times until he was satisfied no one outside could hear anything.” Jurors visibly recoiled at the image of a man methodically soundproofing his own home in anticipation of violent death.

The victim selection fell to Joseph Ryan, 38, an unmarried man who frequented online fetish forums. Prosecutors allege Banfield and Magalhães created a fake profile posing as Christine and contacted Ryan through a consensual “non-consent” role-play community. Messages recovered from deleted accounts show “Christine” building trust over weeks, describing exactly the scenario she supposedly desired: a stranger entering her home, “taking” her while her husband was supposedly away. Safe words were established, boundaries discussed—everything designed to make Ryan believe the encounter was mutually agreed fantasy.

On February 10, 2023, Ryan arrived at the Banfield house around 9:15 a.m. Magalhães let him in and led him upstairs to the master bedroom. According to her testimony, Banfield had been hiding in the attached garage, armed with two handguns. As soon as Ryan began undressing—following the scripted fantasy—Banfield entered and fired once into Ryan’s chest. Ryan collapsed instantly. Moments later Christine, who had been in an adjacent room, rushed in after hearing the shot. Banfield allegedly turned on her, stabbing her repeatedly with a kitchen knife he had hidden under the mattress earlier that morning.

Crime scene supervisor Detective Terry Leach described the bedroom as “a slaughterhouse.” Christine suffered at least 14 stab wounds, several defensive cuts on her hands and arms. Ryan was found face-down near the foot of the bed, single gunshot wound to the torso. The murder weapon—a standard chef’s knife—was discovered blade-up beneath the blankets, positioned so the handle protruded visibly when sheets were pulled back. Leach noted both handguns appeared to have been moved after first responders arrived: one placed near Ryan’s body to suggest Magalhães had fired in self-defense, the other returned to its original drawer.

Magalhães made the 911 call within minutes, voice shaking as she told dispatchers an intruder had broken in, attacked Christine, and that she had shot him in panic. The performance was convincing enough for initial responding officers to treat the scene as a possible home invasion gone wrong. But forensic inconsistencies mounted quickly. No forced entry. Ryan’s clothes neatly folded on a chair. Cellphone data placing Banfield at a McDonald’s drive-thru less than ten minutes before the shooting—ordering a coffee he barely touched. Drive-thru surveillance video shown to the jury captured him staring straight ahead, expression blank.

Within days of the funerals, Banfield moved Magalhães from her basement au pair quarters into the master bedroom. Sergeant Kenner Fortner, who documented the house immediately after the murders and again in October 2023 during a follow-up search, provided some of the trial’s most unsettling visual evidence. Side-by-side photographs shown to jurors revealed the transformation: blood-soaked carpet replaced with new hardwood, old furniture discarded, walls repainted. Most disturbing were the personal items. The nightstand that once held a wedding photo of Brendan and Christine now displayed a framed picture of Brendan and Juliana smiling together. Christine’s clothing had been removed from the closet; in its place hung pieces Magalhães had worn during the affair, including red lingerie identified from earlier crime-scene photos taken in her original bedroom.

Prosecutors argue this rapid redecoration demonstrates premeditation and motive: Banfield wanted Christine gone so he could claim life insurance, keep the house, retain primary custody of their four-year-old daughter, and begin a new life with Magalhães without the mess of divorce. Magalhães testified that Banfield repeatedly assured her “everything would be fine once Christine was out of the picture.” She claims she participated because she feared losing her visa status, her income, and—most critically—him.

Defense attorney John Carroll has aggressively challenged Magalhães’ credibility. During cross-examination he highlighted her plea deal, her financial dependence on Banfield, and inconsistencies in early statements to police. “You stand to gain the most from blaming him,” Carroll pressed. “Reduced sentence, possible deportation avoided, maybe even money from civil suits later.” Magalhães maintained her core story: “I helped him because I loved him and I was terrified of what he would do if I refused. But I did not want anyone to die.”

Christine Banfield’s family attends every session. Her sister Emily Rourke told reporters outside court: “My sister spent her life saving people in the ER. She trusted the man she married and the young woman she welcomed into her home to care for her child. They repaid that trust with knives and bullets.” Joseph Ryan’s mother Diane has been equally vocal, calling the fetish-site ruse “a cruel exploitation of her son’s private interests.”

The daughter, now eight, lives with relatives and is shielded from media coverage. Court documents indicate she has asked repeatedly why “Mommy and the man who came to the house” are gone and why “Juliana and Daddy” lived together afterward.

As the trial enters its second week, additional witnesses are expected to testify about digital forensics (recovered messages, browser history), blood-spatter patterns confirming the sequence of attacks, and Banfield’s gun purchases. Prosecutors have signaled they may call a domestic-violence expert to explain patterns of coercive control in relationships involving power imbalances—such as employer-employee, older man-younger immigrant woman.

Banfield, dressed each day in a dark suit and maintaining an impassive expression, has yet to take the stand. If convicted of aggravated murder he faces life without parole. Magalhães, having pleaded to manslaughter, is likely looking at 5–20 years, with credit for cooperation potentially reducing that significantly.

Outside the courtroom the case has reignited debates about au pair programs, the vulnerability of young foreign women placed in American homes, and the misuse of online fetish communities for criminal ends. Neighbors on Grace Street, once friendly with the Banfields, now avoid eye contact and have installed additional security cameras.

What began as a seemingly textbook home-invasion tragedy has revealed itself as something far darker: a meticulously planned execution disguised as chaos, executed by a man trained to investigate crime and a woman ensnared by promises of love. As jurors listen to the final pieces of evidence, one question lingers above all others—how long had Brendan Banfield been planning to turn his family home into a grave?