Written in Blood (22 page)

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Authors: Diane Fanning

BOOK: Written in Blood
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Caitlin's eyes drifted over to Margaret and Martha, the two young women she once regarded as sisters. They seemed like deer caught in the headlights. She tried to be empathetic, but it was hard. Mike was the only parent they had left. But what about her mother?
Her mother had meant so much to them. In fact, since Kathleen's death, Martha had referred to her as “the best
mother I ever had.” Caitlin was surrounded by support from her family, her sorority sisters and other friends. But it was not the same. There was a large place in her heart reserved for her mother. And there was a second spot that was also lonely and bereft—that empty hole belonged to Margaret and Martha Ratliff.
A parade of police officers filed through the witness stand. They testified about searches of the house and the grounds, the time Peterson spent checking and sending email in the hours after his wife's death, and the discovery of Mike Peterson's power of attorney document granting authority to his sons, Todd and Clayton.
Forensic meterologist William H. Haggard made his way to the witness stand with the help of a cane. The top of his head was bald and fringed round the sides with longish white hair. He wore a hearing aid, glasses, and a blue suit, and moved with slow deliberation.
The judge allowed the defense to question Haggard outside the presence of the jury. They launched an attack on his credentials and credibility. The judge then granted the defense additional time to review Haggard's documents and studies before he testified before the jury. Slowly, the elderly man made his way across the courtroom—his appearance this day a total waste of time.
In a blue suit and red tie, Lieutenant Connie Bullock took the stand radiating an aura of comfort and security. He listened to every question with intensity—often
sucking his bottom lip into his mouth to aid in his concentration.
He explained his arrival and his responsibility to coordinate the activity at the scene. Hardin then directed his questioning to Bullock's role in the search of the home on December 12. Bullock testified that the warrant was obtained that afternoon and served at 6 P.M. He told the jury that they executed the search at that time because it would be less disruptive, since most people would be at Kathleen's viewing.
The defense flew at Bullock about the timing of the December 12 warrant. Rudolf ridiculed the contention that a search during the wake would be less intrusive. “You were going in the hopes of finding the house empty?”
“Of not having to displace people.”
“You are talking about finding no one there, right?” Rudolf asked.
“When we execute a search warrant, any resident that would be present would be secured by the police, meaning either they would have to be held up in a particular location or escorted out of the residence.”
“Well, the truth is, what happens is, you can ask them to step outside while you conduct the search, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“That's what usually happens, right? Right?” Hostility had crept into Rudolf's tone, but no reaction to it was visible in Bullock's placid demeanor.
“[ …] Now were you expecting Michael Peterson to be there when you got there?”
“I had no earthly idea who would be there,” Bullock replied.
“All right. And how were you going to get into this house if no one was there?”
“If no one was there, the Constitution and the search warrant would allow for a forced entry,” the witness stated.
“Forced entry?” When he uttered these two words, Rudolf etched the edges of each syllable with outrage. “You think it would be less intrusive and upsetting to Mr. Peterson to come home from a wake and to find out that the police had rummaged through his house?”
“[ …] I don't know if it would be more or less upsetting to Mr. Peterson. I don't know.”
“[ …] Two or three days after his wife dies in the house, what he finds is that someone—he doesn't know who—has been in the house and maybe rummaged through it, right?”
“That's correct.”
“And your view was that that was less intrusive than simply coming to his house, say at one o'clock in that afternoon, and knocking on the door?”
Nodding his head, Bullock said, “It was an option.”
“And what you all chose to do instead was to come to his house at the very time that the wake for his wife was scheduled, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And, as a result of that, because he chose to—He was put in the position, basically, of choosing between going to the wake right then and there or sticking around and seeing what you guys—or at least trying to figure out—what you guys were doing in the house, right?”
Bullock denied knowing what Peterson was thinking.
Rudolf launched an attack on the officer about the
rape kit obtained from Kathleen's body on December 11. “And the people at the funeral home said, ‘We're not going to let you do that unless you go get a warrant.' Isn't that what happened?”
“Yes, sir.”
“And they called Mr. Peterson to tell them that you all were now wanting to take a rape kit from his wife? Didn't they?”
“I was told that he was called,” Bullock answered.
With a look of disdain, repugnance dripping from his voice, Rudolf said, “And then you all actually went and got a warrant and that was done to his wife's body, wasn't it?”
“It's my understanding that it was,” the witness admitted.
On re-direct, Hardin established with the battered witness that the discovery of a used condom and a towel that appeared to have semen stains on it was what motivated investigators to obtain that search warrant on Kathleen Peterson's body.
After the lieutenant was excused from the witness stand, the courtroom fell back into tedious testimony from an attorney who taught finance and law in the department of Business Management at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill. He presented the deadly dull details of how Kathleen's property would be divided since she died without a will.
The direct, cross-examination and re-direct of this witness were so mind-numbing that it prompted a quip from the judge at the end of the day. After the jury had been dismissed, he turned to the attorneys and asked, “Did you all enjoy your law school property review?”
The next morning began with evidence technician Dan George on the stand. Part of his testimony included Resusci Anne, the life-size dummy used as a CPR training tool. She was dressed for court in a red turtleneck, navy shirt and pants. She wore a blonde wig and was about the same size as Kathleen. As the demonstration began, Todd Peterson sat in the audience popping Tic Tacs like a maniac, with an amused expression across his face.
George propped the dummy on the step beside the witness box in an approximation of the position of Kathleen's body, and pantomimed Michael Peterson's impulsive race to his wife's body. He demonstrated how the defendant put an arm around her, but did not hold or caress her. He then described how the combined efforts of an officer and Todd Peterson forced Michael Peterson from the stairwell and to the sofa in the breakfast nook.
Black questioned George about his interaction with other members of the police, the removal of Kathleen's body, the gathering of evidence and the videotaping he had done throughout.
A short break in the proceedings gave the prosecution time to set up their next exhibit. When the jury door opened, laughing and giggling wafted into the courtroom. Unaware of the drama about to unfold, many of the jurors took their seats with smiles on their faces.
At the push of a button, all of that changed. The prosecution played the videotape of the crime scene. They elected to run it without any commentary. The courtroom filled with a hush so deep it echoed in the spectators' ears.
The video opened with a shot from the circular driveway and up the brick walk toward the Kent Street door. The camera paused to zoom in on a droplet of blood on the walkway. Then, it traveled onto the slate porch and focused on the smear of blood on the doorway.
The jury was rapt. Brows furrowed, hands stroked beards, cheeks flushed. As the camera entered the house and moved ever closer to the body of Kathleen Peterson, the darkness of the jurors' thoughts was written in their expressions and their body language.
Hands flew to mouths. A number of jurors squirmed in their seats. At times, some flinched away and then forced their gaze back to the monitor. The pale face of an older woman developed a progressive look of distaste. The lines beside her mouth deepened from shallow furrows to infinite crevices.
A young blonde juror looked on the verge of bursting into tears. Another woman sank deeper and deeper into her seat until she almost disappeared behind the rail. A young male juror held his chin against his throat, forcing him to view the video with an upward gaze as though he could not bear to face it full on. A middle-aged woman sucked her lips into her mouth and blew them out over and over again.
A gray-haired man blinked his eyes in rapid rhythm. His hand rose to his mouth, formed a fist, and his teeth latched onto his ring finger. An older man removed his glasses, wiped his eyes, rubbed his forehead and clenched his jaw with enough force to distort the line of his face.
When the tape ended, the panel looked as if their collective heart was full of an intense desire to fly away—the devout wish to be.anyplace, anywhere but the jury box. When they had filed out for lunch break on previous days, they would go in pairs, chatting together, exchanging grins—the anticipation of an hour of freedom splashed across their faces.
It was a different jury that headed out of the courtroom that day. They were as somber as a hanging judge. Their eyes cast down, their movements sluggish—their mood and the ambiance of the courtroom underwent a dramatic transformation that weighed down on everyone for days.
Large cardboard boxes were lugged into the courtroom and piled on the bench behind the prosecution table. Hardin and George began to empty them of the presentation of evidence seized or collected by the evidence technician from the home of Michael Peterson. The process of revealing these items was a tedious but necessary step in courtroom procedure. It demonstrated that the chain of custody was clear and constant.
They started with State's Exhibit 1, a brown paper bag covered with writing. George donned a pair of latex gloves and, with a small pink utility knife, sliced open the bag. From it, he removed a roll of brown paper. Spreading that open, he revealed a pair of shorts belonging to Michael Peterson. Holding the shorts, he walked before the jury displaying the blood-soaked front and the lightly spattered back.
That Friday afternoon, he also presented Michael Peterson's blood-smeared shirt and his blood-spotted shoes. On Monday morning, he continued his introduction of evidence. When he finished, the defense battered him about evidence that was not seized—the telephone, the towels beneath Kathleen's head, the keys in the door.
Tuesday morning, the cross-examination of Dan George was preceded by a hearing with one of the jury members. She had ridden on an elevator with Michael Peterson and his family. After determining that she had not heard anything that would affect her ability to be
fair, the judge called the jury back into the courtroom. He instructed them to use the back elevator to avoid people involved with the case. At times, the unreliability of the old courthouse elevators made it impossible for the jurors to comply.
The cross-examination of Dan George continued throughout that day and into the next. Rudolf attacked his experience, the decisions he made and the contamination of the crime scene by first responders, police personnel, the defendant and others.
On re-direct, Hardin focused on the reality that crime-scene contamination is a fact of life in every investigation. “Have you ever been to a scene,” he asked George, “where everything was absolutely frozen in place? The defendant was still standing there?”
“No.”
“The weapon still in his hand?”
“No, sir, I haven't.”
“Do you have an opinion whether that the second he moves around in the scene, that scene's altered?”
“In every case,” George agreed, “it probably would be. Yes, sir.”
The prosecutor established that George was aware of the time line of events prior to his arrival at the scene. George admitted that he had no knowledge about the positioning of the body before he got to the scene. Hardin then walked him through a list of injuries to Kathleen's body and George acknowledged that he only observed an injury to her eye.
“But you still processed the scene?” Hardin asked.
“Yes, sir, I did.”
“And no one whatsoever,” Hardin emphasized, “gave you any information about what Mr. Peterson was doing before EMS got there, did they?”
“No, sir, they did not.”
On re-cross, Rudolf disputed George's previous testimony that no one had sprayed luminol in the lower stairwell. He produced a photograph that depicted a white residue in the area of the stairway that George admitted looked like dried luminol.
On re-re-direct, Hardin held up the same photo Rudolf had shown and elicited the opinion of George that it was not a photo taken by the Durham police. He told the jury that if luminol had been sprayed there during the investigation, it would have been tracked off the stairs by someone. When Hardin asked if it were possible that one of the defense experts sprayed the area, the defense went ballistic.
“Object to that as an outrageous allegation,” Rudolf shouted.
The judge upheld Rudolf's objection, but admonished him about editorializing.
On re-re-cross, a squabble erupted between counsel over the appropriateness of questioning the evidence technician on the contents of the autopsy report. The prosecution prevailed and, to his great relief, Dan George was released from the stand.
It had been a difficult day for Candace Zamperini, too. She sought healing and strength at the Maplewood Cemetery. The day was still, the air hot and moist. No earthly conditions were present to make the chimes by Kathleen's grave sing. However, when Candace stood by
the side of her sister's resting place, the light, bright tinkling of the chimes filled the air. It did not stop until Candace walked away.
Candace experienced this inexplicable phenomenon many times throughout the trial. Kathleen was speaking to her. And Candace was listening.

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