Murder in Boston (11 page)

Still, according to Perenyi, when Matthew announced his plans to the gathered siblings, they tried to talk him out of it. But apparently he was adamant. On January 3, the first convenient day after the holiday break, Matthew said he was going to the prosecutors to tell them what he knew about the incident.

From the meeting with his brothers, Matthew went to Reardon’s Bar, the tavern owned by his cousin that was one of his favorite drinking places. He slumped over the bar, crying in his beer. Two friends who found him utterly dejected tried to cheer him up. Ever since he had come back from California, he had been subject to fits of deep depression, and they worried that he might be contemplating suicide.

“I’ve got to do it,” he mumbled. “I’ve got to get it over with.”

Certain now that their friend
was
talking about suicide, they told him that killing himself was no way out, no matter how bad things seemed.

Matthew shook his head. “You don’t understand,” he said. “That’s not what I mean.”

What do you mean? they asked.

He refused to answer. “When it happens you’ll all know,” he said cryptically. “The whole world will know.”

In attempting to fathom Matthew’s motives, there is another factor to consider as well. Although it was not a topic of frequent debate among the general public in Massachusetts, there still existed on the law books a statute known informally as “the blood relative law.” Dating to 1784, the law was enacted at a time when the family was more important than the state. What it said, in essence, was that a person could not be prosecuted for harboring a blood relative who had committed a felony, not even for assisting said relative in concealing the crime. The law is generally interpreted to mean that a husband, wife, parent, grandparent, child, grandchild,
brother
, or
sister
cannot be prosecuted as an accessory after the fact. Apparently, in lawyer Perenyi’s view, this was Matthew’s legal lifeline. Even if he admitted involvement with Chuck, Perenyi apparently reckoned, Matthew could not be made to face charges.

But Matthew’s decision may not even have been the major topic of discussion among the Stuart siblings. The major issue among them may have been how they were going to handle the inevitable disclosures. Since there is no evidence that the Stuarts approached the situation with anything but cynicism in the past, there is no reason to suspect they acted anything but cynically then. This was, unhappily, underlined a few days later when Shelly, Neysa, Michael, and Mark held a news conference with their flamboyant attorney, Richard Clayman, to announce their official position: They were not
legally
responsible for anything that had happened up until then. Moral responsibility, however, was something else.

January 2, 1990

Tuesday

Shelly, the oldest of the Stuart children, was particularly concerned about the impact the revelations could have on her father, Charles, and her stepmother, Dorothy, neither of whom was in good health. She felt the children were going to have to make a decision on what and how they were going to tell their parents. But no decision was made on January 1.

The next day, still not having heard anything from the family about breaking the news to Charles and Dorothy, Shelly called Michael at home to force the issue. Matthew’s deadline was approaching; in twenty-four hours the whole world would know. Michael was on duty at the fire station, and his wife, Maria, called him there. Shelly needed to talk to him, she said: “It’s an emergency.”

Michael, perhaps forgetting that telephone calls to and from the fire station are recorded, called Shelly at her home.

“Hi,” he said, sounding somewhat less than cheerful.

Shelly did not waste time with preliminaries. “We’re all meeting here right now,” she said. “We’re going to Mom’s.”

Michael shilly-shallied. “Well, you know what it is. I can’t leave here until I talk to the deputy.”

“When will that be?” Shelly pressed.

“Well,” Michael continued to dawdle, “he’s on the road right now. I wouldn’t even begin to tell you.”

The answer didn’t satisfy his sister. “Can’t it be an emergency crisis at home?”

“I suppose I could say that,” Michael conceded, “but—”

Shelly interrupted. “Say it, Mike, because it is.”

Michael, resignedly: “What’s going to happen?”

“We’re going to tell Mom and Dad,” Shelly said.

“What are you going to tell them?”

“We’re going to tell them we know that Chuck was involved,” Shelly said. “We’re not going to say that he killed her.”

“Wow,” Michael replied.

“I know, Mike,” Shelly said. “Get ready.”

In response to a question from Michael, Shelly said the delegation to the elder Stuarts would consist of her and her husband, Steve, Janet Monte forte, Mark, and Matthew. “And Neysa’s coming over,” she added.

Michael sounded surprised. “Neysa doesn’t know?”

That was right, Shelly responded, Neysa had not yet been told.

“Oh, Christ,” said Michael. After giving the issue a few minutes of thought, he agreed that he would claim an emergency, leave the fire station, and join them. His wife, Maria, would want to go as well, he added.

“Tell her to come,” Shelly said, “but you guys have to be here soon.”

“Okay,” Mike agreed.

“Like within ten minutes,” Shelly responded, underlining the urgency.

Ringing off with Shelly, Mike dialed his wife and tersely explained the situation. He said he was going with them.

“Do they want it to be just the immediate family?” Maria asked.

“No, no,” Michael replied, explaining that Steve Yandoli and Janet Monteforte would be there, too. Sighing, he said it would be up to her if she wanted to go with him. “Believe me,” he added, “I don’t want to be there.”

“I’ll go,” Maria said. “Come and get me.”

“All right,” Michael said.

“I love you,” said Maria.

“I love you, too,” said Michael. “Bye.”

What they told Charles and Dorothy has not been revealed. It also is not known if Chuck was there, but he likely was not. That Tuesday, January 2, was a busy day for him.

First he went to the bank and got a certified check for $10,000, delving into the $82,000 in Carol’s life insurance that he had collected a few weeks earlier. Then he took the check and Carol’s blue Toyota to a car dealer, where he used both the check and the trade-in value of the Toyota to buy a $22,277 new Nissan Maxima, which he drove off the lot. From there he went to a jewelry store in suburban Peabody and paid cash for a $250 gold brooch. Debbie Allen’s twenty-third birthday was the next day, and there has been speculation that he bought the pin for her, whether he actually presented it to her or not. She denied she ever received it. From there he went to a second jewelry store and bought a pair of diamond earrings for $1,000. Apparently they were a gift for his mother.

What he did for the rest of the day is uncertain. Maybe he went drinking with friends. Maybe he rendezvoused with Debbie Allen. Maybe he went back to his house in Reading and played with the Labs, Max and Midnight. Maybe he went to his old church and prayed. Maybe he visited Carol’s grave. What he did
not
do was go to the police, even though he almost surely knew that Matthew was going to the district attorney’s office in twelve hours.

Whatever Chuck did, it may have been the last time he did it. In a little more than thirty-six hours he would be dead.

Chapter 10

January 3, 1990

Late in the afternoon, Matthew went to the district attorney’s office, just as he had told his family he would. With him was his lawyer, John Perenyi, and his best friend, John “Jack” McMahon, a youth Matthew’s age who made his living fixing vending machines. Prosecutors knew he was coming; Perenyi had paved the way for the visit. Although the lawyer had given the assistant district attorneys a synopsis of what Matthew had to say, they wanted to hear it from Matthew himself. The district attorney’s office has refused to share its record of the meeting. But as best as can be determined, this is what was said:

A few weeks before the October 23 shooting, Chuck approached Matthew with an offer for a deal. Matthew was a little surprised by Chuck’s friendliness because his brother had not been speaking to him for almost two years. Nevertheless he decided to listen. Although Chuck tended to be dictatorial, Matthew could not help but admire him. Chuck had gone farther than any of his other brothers—in fact, farther than anyone he knew. Most of the guys he had grown up with on the block, and their brothers, were still living in Revere, many of them still in their boyhood rooms in back of their parents’ houses. If they worked at all, they had jobs that paid little better than minimum wage. But Chuck, without benefit of a college education—indeed without even a proper high school education—had landed a top job at one of the city’s swankiest shops. He lived in a luxurious home in a well-to-do suburb, he dressed like a model in
GQ
, he traveled abroad, and he brought home more money in a year, not counting Carol’s salary, than Matthew could earn in seven. Chuck, he figured, must know something he didn’t know, and if his brother wanted his help and was willing to pay for it, the least he could do was listen.

Chuck told him, Matthew said, that he had a plan to rip off the insurance company for some sizable bucks, but he needed Matthew’s help.

“Okay,” Matthew replied. “Go ahead.”

What we’re going to do, Chuck said, was rob his house.

There was an incident in Matthew’s past that may have made Chuck believe he would be receptive to that kind of approach. According to the
Globe
, about four years previously Matthew and a friend, both of whom had been drinking heavily, broke into an unoccupied house in Matthew’s neighborhood. Just what they’d hoped to accomplish is uncertain because the house was empty and there was nothing to steal. Matthew regarded it as a hilarious prank, but the police didn’t think it was so funny. They wanted to charge him with breaking and entering. But the owners were friends of the Stuarts’, and they refused to press charges. Since then, although Matthew has been described as a youth who likes to party, he has never run into problems with the police. His previous employers told the
Globe
that he has an unmarred, even exemplary, work record.

Just how much of his alleged actual scheme Chuck revealed to Matthew is unclear. Newspaper reports, quoting unnamed sources within the police department, later claimed that Chuck planned to have Matthew break into the house, then he himself would kill his wife, Carol, and make it look as though she had been murdered by a burglar.

In any case, Matthew said he forced his way into his brother’s Reading home, as agreed, and was collecting several specific objects that Chuck wanted to report stolen. But then Chuck and Carol came home earlier than expected, too soon for him to finish his job. He had to duck into a bathroom and then slip out while his brother and sister-in-law were in a different part of the house. If Chuck’s plan had been to kill Carol, it was aborted. Matthew, needless to say, was unhappy with the turn of events. He had been promised $5,000 for his part in the plot. Working as a paint mixer, it would take him three months to make that.

Several weeks later, Matthew continued, Chuck came back to him and said he had another idea. Since Matthew has not spoken publicly on the issue himself, but only through his attorney, whom he would later fire, it is not altogether clear exactly what Chuck told him except that this latest scheme was more sophisticated than the previous one. Chuck hinted that it had something to do with his employer, Kakas & Sons. Matthew halfway assumed that Chuck was going to steal something from Kakas. Since this was a more elaborate plan and the stakes were higher, Matthew said Chuck told him, his services would be worth more. This time Chuck proposed to pay him $10,000. Matthew thought about it for about three seconds, then said, Hell, yes.

On Sunday, October 22, Chuck met Matthew near Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Roxbury and took him on a long tour of the neighborhood. Finally Chuck picked a deserted spot deep within Mission Hill and told Matthew to memorize the location. Chuck said he would meet him at that spot the next night between eight-fifteen and eight-thirty, and he would have a package for him. Chuck told Matthew to leave open the window in the back of his car, and he, Chuck, would toss the package into Matthew’s vehicle. Matthew then was to dispose of the package.

“Is that all?” Matthew asked.

“That’s it,” Chuck said.

The next night, October 23, Matthew said he was at the predetermined location when Chuck drove up. Neither one got out of their cars, but Chuck barked at Matthew to follow him to another location. When they got there Chuck tossed a small bundle into Matthew’s car, ordered him to get rid of it, and drove away.

Until there is some official confirmation, this is where the story gets a little fuzzy. Although there is no known evidence that Matthew’s friend, Jack McMahon, was with Matthew in Mission Hill, it seems more than a bit odd that Matthew would have sought McMahon out afterwards. In any case, we know McMahon was involved at the point that the gun and the jewels were thrown into the Pines River.