A Perfect Husband (30 page)

The “Perry Mason moment” of the trial happened just days after Hurricane Isabel hit the East Coast, which had created disaster areas in Virginia, Maryland, and Delaware. It had shut down the trial proceedings, having caused power outages and uprooted trees in Durham. In the aftermath of the storm, as people in North Carolina were trying to get their lives back on track, the Peterson trial came back into session, and David Rudolf called Detective Art Holland to the stand to introduce a striking piece of evidence.

“Did you ever ask us if we had located the blow poke?” Rudolf wanted to know.

“No, I didn't,” Holland testified.

“Did you just assume that it was gone?” Rudolf asked.

“Gone, or put up somewhere,” Holland told the court.

Unbeknownst to Art Holland, David Rudolf had held an exparte meeting with Judge Hudson on a Sunday, whereby Judge Hudson was brought to the Peterson mansion, in order that Rudolf could show him a blow poke that was lying against an obscure wall in the garage. Judge Hudson signed an order allowing the attorney, along with photographers and the French documentary crew, to film the blow poke in the condition and location that it had been found. He told them they could move it, and ordered them not to destroy the item.

Judge Hudson, however, had no way of knowing that David Rudolf had brought the blow poke into the courtroom had hidden it behind the defense table. When the defense attorney brought out the long, cylindrical item, whipping it out in front of the jury in a clear plastic wrapper, the prosecution had no chance to object. Even though no foundation had been laid as to who found the item, even though there was a question as to the authenticity of the item, Rudolf shrewdly insisted in a bench conference that he couldn't reveal the circumstances under which it had been found. Rudolf said it would violate attorney-client privilege.

Durham police had pulled three search warrants looking for the murder weapon. They had combed the Peterson house and property, inch by inch, looking for that blow poke. But now, prosecutors were in a position. Jim Hardin decided not to argue in open court, he did not want to give any weight to the newly found piece of evidence. The courtroom had gone numb when Rudolf had produced the blow poke—everyone was visibly shocked—but Jim Hardin decided to just let the testimony go forward.

As the defense attorney wielded the brass tool, which had no drop of blood or dent mark on it, he would point out the cobwebs and insects that were covering the fireplace instrument.

“Have you ever given any thought to what would happen to an item like this,” Rudolf asked, “if it were used to beat someone to death?”

“Probably be mangled up,” Holland responded.

“See any dents in there? Even like a tiny indentation?”

“It doesn't appear to have any dents,” Holland admitted.

The stealth unveiling of the blow poke was allowable under North Carolina law. Judge Hudson had signed an order allowing the defense team to take it into custody. But Rudolf's attempt to enter it into evidence appeared to surprise Judge Hudson, who had stated in his order: “In the event the Defendant wishes to introduce the blow poke into evidence, or conduct any forensic testing on the blow poke, the Defendant shall inform the State of the existence of the blow poke.”

David Rudolf had not abided by the rules of “reciprocal discovery.” The defense attorney claimed that his decision to bring the missing blow poke into court was something he had thought of “last minute.” Rudolf claimed that he hadn't shown it to prosecutors beforehand, because he just wasn't sure that he was going to present it.

The newly discovered blow poke, revealed just as the defense was wrapping up, would threaten to unravel the state's case. Suddenly the state's theory that Peterson had killed his wife with a blow poke made less sense to everyone. Here was a blow poke that the Durham Police department had overlooked, the supposed murder weapon in the case, and it was there for everyone to see, in perfect condition.

Even though the origin of the blow poke remained a mystery, both sides knew that when the case would go to the jury for deliberation, there would be this fireplace tool they would have to deal with. It was an exact match to Candace's blow poke, which prosecutors had claimed was the murder weapon.

Perhaps David Rudolf had pulled off more than a “Perry Mason moment”; perhaps he'd pulled off an “O.J. moment.” With the existence of the blow poke, everything that had come before, even the testimony of Dr. Henry Lee, with his ketchup and blood spatter analysis, didn't seem relevant. The presentation of the blow poke, which had been missing for twenty-one months, was very much like the famous glove from the O.J. Simpson trial, which, unfortunately, didn't fit O.J. Simpson's hand.

To the courtroom audience, to the members of the media, the entry of the brass blow poke into evidence, complete with cobwebs and bugs, made things look quite bad for the prosecution. In the circumstantial case, the state had gambled on what they
thought
had been the murder weapon. For months, the prosecution had hung their hats on the “missing” blow poke, repeatedly indicating that the hollow item was the perfect tool for murder. But suddenly it seemed that the prosecution's theory was bogus.

Facing a full-capacity crowd in the gallery, David Rudolf made the most of the turnaround in the case, grabbing the “missing” brass blow poke as he launched into a 3½-hour closing argument. As part of his impassioned speech, Rudolf played a tape of Jim Hardin's opening statement, reminding jurors that Hardin had boasted that the state had pinpointed the murder weapon.

Rudolf argued about the state's “tunnel vision.”

Rudolf attacked the state's motive, telling jurors that the prosecutors had “trotted out the old standbys” of sex and money, claiming that, in reality, the Petersons' five-year marriage was in great shape, both financially and romantically. He claimed that the combined net value of the Petersons at the time of Kathleen's death—the mansion, other income, and rental properties—was almost $2 million. He told jurors that at the time of Kathleen's death, not even her sisters had a negative word to say about Kathleen's relationship with Michael.

In terms of the physical evidence linking Michael Peterson to a homicide, Rudolf insisted that, while he couldn't explain exactly how Kathleen sustained lacerations to the back of her head during a fall, it wasn't necessary to know how a “freak accident” might have happened. All the jury needed to focus on was the belief that a freak accident
could
have happened.

As for Elizabeth Ratliff, Rudolf reminded jurors that Judge Hudson had ruled that before the jury could consider her death, they first would have to find that her death was a homicide, and also have to find that Michael Peterson was the perpetrator. Then, with a great sense of spirit and pride, David Rudolf stated that there were at least ten reasons to acquit Michael Peterson. “In this age of David Letterman,” Rudolf told jurors, there was a “top ten list” for them to consider. Jurors could acquit his client if they believed even one of the items on the list, and he flashed his list on a big screen. The jurors were free to read along as Rudolf stated his reasons as to why they should acquit his client.

Here was David Rudolf's “Top Ten” list:

“We're not dealing with the average individual here,” Freda Black told jurors. “We're dealing with a fictional writer. He is a person who knows exactly how to create a fictional plot.”

The beautiful, dark-haired Freda Black, who was presenting the first half of the state's closing argument, was not one to mince words. She began by using the words, “soul mates.” Then she read from a set of wedding vows, telling jurors how little those vows meant to Michael Peterson.

“Did he honor her? Did he keep her?” Black asked. “The answer to those questions is no.”

The prosecutor described the “unnatural positioning” of Kathleen Peterson's body, the pair of wineglasses, one with Michael's fingerprints, a bottle of Windex that was strangely out of its place, as well as the broken crystal wineglass—all of which led prosecutors to believe that the defendant had killed his wife and then staged her death. She told jurors that Peterson was “acting” when he placed calls to 9-1-1, assuring them that Peterson wasn't truly shaken up when he called for help, implying that police soon realized they were dealing with a calculating murderer.

“If he's really a grieving spouse,” Black wondered, “why did Officer McCallop see him checking his e-mails on his computer while he was in that study? Would you be checking your e-mails if your spouse was lying out in the hallway with blood everywhere?

“Did you notice that one of the e-mails was sent at three thirty-six
A.M.
?” she asked. “Is it okay for Kathleen Peterson to be sleeping in the marital bed while Michael Peterson is up e-mailing Brad?”

Freda Black disputed Rudolf's claims that the state's expert witnesses did not give accurate information, that the state's experts had made assumptions that were outside their area of expertise. Black said that all of the state's witnesses—from forensic pathologist Deborah Radisch to blood spatter expert Duane Deaver—were seasoned North Carolina officials who had no reason to misstate their findings. Black reminded the jury that any misinformation state witnesses might offer in a court of law would jeopardize their job. These professionals were unlike defense witnesses, who were highly paid to offer their testimony.

“The defendant is so arrogant that he thinks that all these people would risk their reputations, their integrity, jobs, and freedom for him,” she quipped. “
He's that important?
I think not.”

Black spoke highly of the local police, of the medical examiners, of all the witnesses for the prosecution, assuring jurors these experts were trustworthy. She told jurors that once this case was over, the defense team's hired witnesses would be long gone, but the hardworking team of experts in Durham would still be right there to testify in the courtroom, fighting for justice in much-less high-profile cases.

“They might not appear on
Larry King Live
or Court TV,” she said, alluding to Dr. Henry Lee. “But you know what? They are tried and true, because they work for our state.”

Black told jurors that Michael Peterson had tried to sell his staged, trumped-up story, not only to the authorities, but to his family. “And in this courtroom, he's tried to sell it to you,” she emphasized, “a fictional plot.

“Part of that plot,” Black said, was the “dramatic discovery of what defense claimed was the missing blow poke.”

Freda Black questioned the timing of the appearance of the insect-covered blow poke, and said it could have easily been bought by someone on eBay. She told jurors that the item could have been purchased anytime after the fact, suggesting that it wouldn't have taken long for cobwebs and dust to develop on the blow poke entered into evidence by the defense.

She questioned whether the item that the defense entered was actually the original item from the Peterson household. Freda Black covered all the bases. She told jurors that even if the defense exhibit was the blow poke that belonged to Kathleen, it was of little consequence.

The state had never claimed to have found the actual murder weapon.

“We have never told you that we were absolutely certain that it was the blow poke that killed Mrs. Peterson,” Black asserted. “You've heard we believe it was something of the sort.”

Black also concentrated on the similarities between the death of Elizabeth Ratliff and that of Kathleen Peterson. Both women were about the same age. They had similar facial features and similar bone structures. The prosecutor said that the list of similarities between the two deaths—which included timing, modus operandi, and financial gain for Michael Peterson—should be considered in their totality.

“Do you really think that lightning strikes twice in the same place? Do you?” she asked jurors. “This defendant knew the blueprint of how to make this look like an accidental fall, because it had worked one time. And he tried to make it work again. But it didn't.”

As District Attorney Jim Hardin continued the closing argument, he used a simple posterboard to make swift points to jurors. A soft-spoken man, the prosecutor immediately discounted the defense theory that the victim died from a fall.

Hardin asked that the jury use their logic, their common sense, telling them there was just too much blood in the stairwell, and too many injuries to Kathleen Peterson, for her death to have been caused by a fall. Hardin insisted that the defense “theory” was counterintuitive, that “it doesn't fit right here in your gut.”

“Do you really think the defendant was at the pool?” Hardin wondered. “Does the defendant really spend several hours in the winter, wearing shorts, by the backyard pool, as his wife lay dying inside? Doesn't that strain credibility? Who in the world is going to stay outside that long? I submit to you that the defendant wasn't out at the pool. He was in the house, committing this horrible act.”

Jim Hardin held up an autopsy photo for jurors, urging them to remember the pain Kathleen Peterson suffered as they considered the evidence against her husband.

“A picture is worth a thousand words. But if these walls could talk, what would they say?” Hardin asked. “Kathleen Peterson is talking to us through the blood that is on the wall. She is screaming to us for truth. And for justice.”

Hardin would argue that no reasonable person could look at the story detailed in Mrs. Peterson's autopsy and conclude that she had just clumsily fallen down the stairs. No one could deny the horrible reality: the combination of the fractured bone in Kathleen's neck, her facial wounds, and the deep lacerations to her head. And then there was something else that Hardin pointed out—the absence of wounds on other parts of Kathleen Peterson's body. If Kathleen Peterson had fallen down the stairs, Hardin reminded jurors, there would have been bruises to obvious places, to her larger body parts. But there weren't.

“Common sense tells you this was a beating. This wasn't a fall. This is a horrible way to die. It must have taken her a long time to die. She's fighting for her life. That's why there's so much blood,” Hardin insisted. “He assaulted her. She went down. He continued to assault her. That's when premeditation formulated.

“Thirty-eight injuries, ladies and gentlemen,” the prosecutor continued. “How in the world does someone get
thirty-eight
injuries over their face, back, hands, and wrists by falling down some steps? Even if there were two falls? That makes absolutely no sense.

“This is not a whodunit,” Jim Hardin insisted. “If you find that this was murder, there's only one person who could have done it—Michael Peterson.”