A Deadly Game (3 page)
There was more. At first, Scott couldn't say what he was fishing for; moments later he declared he was fishing for sturgeon, but couldn't say what bait he used.
Duerfeldt was also bothered by the fact that Scott had washed his clothes and taken a shower before looking for his wife. It also appeared that he might have mopped the kitchen floor before calling Sharon Rocha. The officer noted that it was another relative, not Scott, who actually telephoned the police to report that Laci was missing.
Having checked local hospitals with no success, Duerfeldt told Carter that patrol units were searching the neighborhood and nearby East La Loma Park. He also reported that the Petersons' dog was actually running loose in the neighborhood earlier in the morning, trailing a dirty leash, and that a neighbor had returned the dog to the Petersons' yard.
Sergeant Carter thanked Duerfeldt, then quickly dialed Homicide Detective Al Brocchini and dispatched him to the scene. It had been less than an hour since Sharon Rocha had called 911, but Carter wanted a murder investigator on the scene immediately.
In the years since the O. J. Simpson case, the phrase rush to judgment has become an increasingly prominent notion in our culture, trotted out whenever cops quickly hone in on a particular suspect in the initial stages of an investigation. It is ironic that this expression became associated with Simpson, given the early evidence that clearly implicated him in his wife's murder: the blood trail from his white Bronco to the Rockingham front door and the infamous bloody glove outside Kato Kaelin's rear window. But Johnnie Cochran's "dream team" made "rush to judgment" one of its most successful slogans, and it captured the public's imagination.
Some of my guests and viewers accused me of a similar rush to judgment when I questioned Scott Peterson's story early in the investigation. As we were all reminded throughout the case, everyone is entitled to the presumption of innocence. But the presumption of innocence attaches during trial, not in the course of an investigation. When a person of interest emerges, the police must work to focus on that individual, to establish his involvement or exclude him from suspicion; they cannot merely assume his or her innocence. In my opinion, it would have amounted to investigatory malpractice if the Modesto police had failed to put Scott under the microscope from the beginning.
The police turned their attention to Scott despite some obvious reasons to look elsewhere. Laci Peterson's family certainly did not believe Scott had anything to do with her disappearance. There were no initial reports of trouble in the marriage. There were no reasons Laci would choose to disappear or do herself harm.
In cases of foul play, the culprit is statistically most likely to be a spouse or someone else known to the victim. A 2001 study conducted by doctors at the Maryland Department of Health and Medical Hygiene found homicide to be the leading cause of death among pregnant woman. In many cases, experts believe, fear of fatherhood may bring on such violence. Pregnancy is a life-changing event, especially for men, who may view the emotional and financial responsibilities as "huge stones around their necks," according to criminal profiler Pat Brown, president of the Sexual Homicide Exchange.
It's also important to note that Laci Peterson was a very low-risk candidate for a violent attack by a stranger. She was alone for an hour at most on that Christmas Eve morning after Scott left the house. The closed living room drapes prevented someone on the street from seeing Laci inside. In cases of kidnapping or sexually motivated crimes, the perpetrator has often conducted some sort of surveillance of the potential victim to determine vulnerability and availability. The window of opportunity in this residential neighborhood, when people were likely to be home preparing for the holidays, was almost nonexistent. Although the Petersons' back door was unlocked, there was no evidence whatsoever that someone entered the house and struggled with the young mother-to-be before forcibly removing her from the home. If burglary were the motive, it would be highly unusual to choose a house with a car parked out front. When the police arrived, they found expensive jewelry readily accessible in the master bedroom. And Scott and Laci's dog was found in the yard dragging his leash, another reason to believe that Laci was not accosted by a stranger inside the house.
Laci Peterson's advanced pregnancy had curbed her activities in the weeks before the murder. She limited herself to short walks, errands, and visits with friends. In her condition, she was not gallivanting about in dangerous places at odd hours. While Laci was an attractive young woman who might have been a target if she had gone walking in the park, she was not only eight months pregnant, but also accompanied by her large and protective companion, McKenzie. Whether it took place in the house or the park, Laci's daytime abduction from a populated location would have been highly risky for a stranger bent on harming her.
However, Scott Peterson's initial behavior gave the police real cause for concern. Why was he so sketchy in recalling the details of a fishing trip he had taken just that morning? Why did he wait so long to raise an alarm when he came home to find his wife missing and his dog trailing his leash? Why didn't he check with his wife's obstetrician, or the hospital where she was scheduled to give birth? Although Scott told Officer Evers that Laci was the one mopping when he left the house, his removal of the mops and dumping of the water suggested that Scott himself might have been cleaning up after some suspicious activity. Although a logical explanation would later emerge for the fact that the Peterson's phone book was open to an ad for a criminal defense attorney, no alert detective could have dismissed the discovery out of hand. Far more damning evidence would come to light as the police continued their investigation, and it was good police work-not a precipitous rush to judgment-that had police scrutinizing Scott's involvement in those early hours.
As time passed, the search for Laci Peterson intensified. The Stanislaus County Sheriff's Office sent its helicopter, Air 101, to traverse the area surrounding
When Officers Letsinger and Spurlock left the Covena home, they headed over to
"Do you know where Scott's been all day?" Spurlock asked.
"I believe he went golfing this morning," Grantski responded.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
Officers Spurlock and Letsinger exchanged glances but said nothing. Excusing themselves, they proceeded with their search of the park, following the trail south to the pump station, then north past the footbridge and back again. By then it was quite dark, so they returned to the Peterson home.
Officer Evers was standing on the front lawn of the ranch house with Scott Peterson. "Find anything?"
"Not yet," Spurlock replied.
As the three men stood chatting, Scott's stepfather walked over. "Were you able to get in a game of golf this morning?" Grantski asked Scott.
Scott hesitated. Then, speaking a little too quickly, he said, "I didn't play golf today. It was too cold. I went fishing instead."
Grantski looked puzzled. He glanced at Spurlock and Evers, then turned back to his son-and-law. "Nine-thirty or ten o'clock in the morning is way too late for fishing," he said. "You should have gone earlier. What were you fishing for?"
There was no response.
CHAPTER TWO
DECEMBER 24, 2002, NIGHT
CAP Homicide Detective Al Brocchini could hear the helicopters as he sped down Route 108 toward the Peterson home. He was following the details via the police scanner bolted to the dashboard of his unmarked car. Friends and neighbors were already assisting in the search, and officers were calling in with bits of information: some gloves at Wilson and Encina Avenues, a burnt white shirt in one of the park fire pits where
Brocchini had planned on a quiet Christmas with his family in the foothills of the
Sergeant Carter wanted Brocchini to talk to Scott Peterson, to get a reading on whether Laci Peterson's disappearance seemed like a voluntary departure or something more sinister. There were other possibilities, such as an accident or kidnapping, but Brocchini was not working those angles.
"If Laci is not found by patrol or by investigation, you are to call Detective Craig Grogan to assist," Carter ordered.
Barely five foot six, with a youthful face and wide brown eyes that sparkled behind silver-rimmed glasses, the heavy-set Brocchini looked like a cop even in his business suit. Nine years with the MPD and eight before that with the Alameda County Sheriff's Department had left their mark; his rough-and-tumble demeanor contrasted sharply with his cherubic features.
Christmas lights illuminated the house numbers along the broad two-lane road that dead-ended at
"I'd like you to walk me through the house and point out anything that looks out of place," Brocchini said. As he led them up the concrete driveway, Brocchini noted that Scott Peterson didn't appear particularly worried.
Once inside, Brocchini immediately checked the home's entrances and exits. While nothing seemed amiss, he too was getting a bad vibe from the husband. He knew the feeling. His gut was telling him to slow down and pay close attention.
"This type of investigation has many different aspects," Brocchini told Scott as the three men strode across the shiny wood floors to the master bedroom. "There are officers canvassing the neighborhood and the park in search of your wife, but it's my job to interview you as the last person to see Laci alive.
"It's going to be uncomfortable for you because I have to ask difficult questions about your relationship with your wife," he continued. "It's been my experience that you'll end up not liking me very much. Keep in mind, I'm only doing my job."
"I understand," Scott nodded, agreeing to cooperate in "every way."
Brocchini sensed otherwise. Normally, police would wait at least twenty-four to forty-eight hours before initiating a full investigation in a missing person case, but Brocchini's instinct wouldn't let him wait. What he saw next, as he entered the bedroom, confirmed his feelings. A fluffy white comforter had been pulled up over the pillows, in what looked like an attempt to tidy the bed. Yet, at the foot of the bed, where one would normally fold back the covers, Brocchini noticed an indentation that spanned the width of the bed, as though a body had been laid out there. The detective did not note his observation in a police report, but a crime scene photographer later captured the suspicious impression on film.
"There's her purse," Evers announced, pointing to the blue handbag on the hook behind some scarves. "Her stuff is in there." Scott watched as the detective verified its contents. It was clear that Laci would not have left home voluntarily without her pocketbook.
The officers followed Scott across the hall to what appeared to be a guest room and secondary work space for Scott and Laci. The room had a double bed covered by a light blue blanket and a generic-looking desk, file cabinet, and bookshelves.
On the desk, next to two laptop computers, Brocchini spied an open pocket knife. On the floor, in front of a partially open closet, was a blue Nike duffle bag. It was unzipped and part of a green rain jacket was poking out.
"Did you take something from that bag?" Brocchini asked.
Scott said he'd removed a pair of white tennis shoes and placed them on the dining room wet bar before leaving for his fishing expedition that morning.
