Current Events
On Saturday, October 13, 2012, the TV cameras knew precisely where to be, even if the Marine Patrol didn’t. Their boats chugged slowly off the shore of Peirce Island, an officer leaning over the rail to scan the water, even though visibility was limited to just below the surface. It was a solemn scene that filled onlookers with dread. Everyone knew the patrol boats had something to do with the disappearance of Lizzi Marriott, but there was no explanation for why they were so focused on this tiny area of water.
The motley islands and inlets along the Piscataqua River create a chaotic maelstrom of currents and whirlpools, all powered by some of the fastest-running water on the continent. The danger zones can be so turbulent that even the industrial tankers that navigate the river get shoved off course if they hit a rough patch.
The riverbed would also be a problem for divers. The currents surge with the tides, racing upstream and then rushing in the opposite direction with a powerful undertow. The Piscataqua runs very deep, and its bed is littered with lobster traps, mooring balls, debris from wrecked vessels of wood or iron, and other remnants of centuries of shipbuilding and piloting blunders.
The river’s shoreline offers no refuge either. Sudden waves could effortlessly slam a diver into the sharp surface of dangerous rock formations that could get in the way.
But on the morning of Saturday, October 13, the biggest obstacle to the Marine Patrol search was the murky state of the fast-moving water, a condition that could last for a couple of days.
As he’d told Seth Mazzaglia it would, it fell to Sergeant Joseph Ebert to break the news about Lizzi to Bob and Melissa Marriott. At the Chester command center, he asked the parents to step into a private room. Melissa later said she knew right then what he would say.
Ebert told the Marriotts their daughter Lizzi was dead, and that her body had been placed in the Piscataqua River. The likelihood of recovering her was slim, he said.
Their first question was one any parent would ask—they wanted to know how Lizzi had died.
Homicide detectives understand from the start that telling families their loved ones have been murdered is part of the job, and they are well trained in setting their own emotions aside for the families’ benefit. It’s a task that doesn’t get easier with time, but there is a sort of emotional muscle experienced cops call on for the task. But how Lizzi had died—there’s no training, no amount of time that made it tolerable to deliver that news.
It was Kat McDonough’s boyfriend, Ebert told them. He then told them what Seth said had happened and said that evidence was still being collected.
“What about Kat? Is she under arrest too?” the Marriotts asked. It was a natural question.
“No,” Ebert told them. But the investigation was ongoing, he explained, and they couldn’t rule out one or more people also being charged.
Sergeant Ebert got up to leave Bob and Melissa Marriott alone in the room. A homicide detective understands that this moment is important too, that once the officer shuts the door behind him, a family is no longer learning about their loved one’s murder. It’s the moment in which they begin learning to live with it, and it marks them forever.
—
Assistant Attorney General James Vara announced the arrest of Seth Mazzaglia at a press conference that afternoon.
New Hampshire homicide prosecutors are notoriously stingy with details on arrests or motives or the strength of their case, in part because of strict state ethical conduct rules designed to ensure fair treatment of the accused, and also because they are involved in the case from the beginning and are as aware of the many perils of ongoing investigations as the police are.
Although they had not yet recovered Lizzi’s body, Vara told reporters, police and the AG’s office had “credible evidence” that she was dead.
Vara said there was little else he could share because of the ongoing nature of the investigation, but he did drop a few bread crumbs for journalists to follow.
He confirmed that the activity off Peirce Island was related to the case. Pens furiously scratched spiral-bound pads, noting that the specific location must mean authorities had solid information about where she was dumped.
Vara also told them that Seth Mazzaglia would be arraigned on Monday in Dover District Court, not in Portsmouth, a hint as to the location where investigators thought the crime had occurred. Sawyer Mill is a hulking landmark in Dover, and a quick drive-by would quickly uncover the scene of detectives and technicians coming into and out of the building.
Finally, Vara said, the charge would be second-degree murder. This implied the death wasn’t premeditated, but veteran reporters knew not to read too much into the second-degree charge; sometimes it was merely used as an opening gambit, with the state later seeking a first-degree indictment from the grand jury after an investigation turns up new evidence.
Without much to go on, reporters working the weekend shift needed to come up with stories that would sustain their outlets through Monday morning. Like a coordinated and hungry pack, newspapers, TV stations, and radio outlets turned their focus away from the slow-moving boats and instead focused on Seth Mazzaglia. Who was he? How was he connected to Lizzi Marriott?
It didn’t take much effort to find enough material to fill the news cycle. A cursory Internet search uncovered the online dating profile of the man from Dover: twenty-nine, an actor and stuntman, someone who was “enigmatic.” He went by the name of “DarkKaiser.” Cross-checking this profile with other websites—darker, more deviant websites—a portrait of the man was painted in newsprint. Daily headlines were infused with a bold new vocabulary.
“BONDAGE”
“DOMINATION”
“SEX SLAVES”
—
Lizzi’s former coworker Nate McNeal was crushed upon hearing the news of her murder and Seth’s arrest. He pulled out his iPhone and texted the one person who might know something.
“Kat, please tell me you were ignorant of all this. And if you weren’t, at least tell me why.”
Kat McDonough never responded to that text.
The remembrances for Lizzi began that Saturday night. At the UNH hockey game, the Wildcats held a moment of silence. The president of the university issued a statement: “Lizzi was a new member of the university community and will be missed in our classrooms. Our focus now will be on supporting our campus community during this difficult time.”
There would be grief counselors available on campus that Monday, the statement said. The president also expressed “shock” that the accused killer was also an alumnus of the school’s theater program.
In Lizzi’s hometown of Westborough, Massachusetts, a candlelight vigil was held at a public park. The event was organized in part by a stranger to the Marriott family, the Reverend John Taylor. That morning, members of his First United Methodist church had planned to drive from Westborough to New Hampshire to help with the search, only to learn it was too late. The Marriotts were not religious, but Taylor asked if members of his congregation could surround them in a prayer circle to ask for the Lord’s comfort before the vigil began.
Lizzi’s aunt and uncle, Tony and Becky Hanna, and her girlfriend, Brittany Atwood, along with a few family friends, joined Bob and Melissa and Lizzi’s brother on the park’s gazebo. Hundreds of people streamed in slowly to show their support. Many only knew of Lizzi through the news coverage but wanted to pay their respects. The park flickered from the growing light of handheld candles. Pastor Taylor asked for a prayer, and those gathered sang “Amazing Grace.”
Bob Marriott summoned the strength to step to the microphone.
“Together we made an angel,” he said, choking back his emotions.
He mentioned all of the law enforcement officials who had spent the week looking for Lizzi, and he said he hoped they would be able to find her and bring her home. He thanked all of the friends and family who knew Lizzi, who had watched her grow into “an amazing young woman.”
“Lizzi is a great tribute to everyone here.”
Then, no longer holding his tears at bay, he said, “She is now home in heaven.”
At that, Bob broke down into sobs, unable to continue.
Reporters covering the event asked for quotes about Lizzi from loved ones. A picture of an optimistic, adventurous girl with a bright future began to take shape. Those insights into who Lizzi was were the beginning of a story that would emerge over time, but it was a narrative that would never waver, no matter how many sources the press talked to in the weeks and months that followed.
“She was just a good girl. That’s probably what got her in trouble,” one family friend told a newspaper. “She was too trusting and she was beautiful. Those two things will kill you.”
—
On Sunday morning, the Marine Patrol assessed conditions on the water before resuming the search. Even in the tumultuous waters of the Piscataqua, it was still possible that Lizzi’s body was very close to Peirce Island. They had seen such things happen countless times before.
Often, when a person drowns, their lungs fill up with water, creating a heaviness that sinks them straight to the bottom. Then, after some time passes, gasses build and a breakdown of tissue takes place, releasing that weight and causing the body to pop to the surface like a cork.
But the suspect’s statements made it far more likely that Lizzi hadn’t drowned, that she hadn’t been breathing when she entered the water. That meant their best chance was if Lizzi had gotten tangled in one of the natural or man-made traps that made scuba diving in the search zone so treacherous. Otherwise, there was little that would have prevented her body from being pulled out into the Atlantic.
That morning, the Piscataqua River saw gusty winds, an extra strong current, and rough chop. The Marine Patrol deemed it too dangerous for their vessels and divers to resume the search, so it was called off for the day.
Back in Westborough, the mood was somber at First United Methodist. Pastor Taylor knew the community tragedy had to be addressed. He dismissed the congregation’s children to leave the main service for Sunday school early so he could speak freely to the adults.
“This evil act will not define Lizzi. We will remember her smiling and laughing,” quoted the Worcester Telegram & Gazette. “That evil that befell her could not deny her soul for shining forever so bright. I know when Lizzi died, God’s light was present. She knew she was loved. She wasn’t alone.”
It was then that he spotted Bob Marriott in the back row of the church’s pews. No one had noticed him slip in. He was alone, his wife and son choosing not to venture outside their home. He’d never been to this church, but at the vigil the night before, the pastor’s words had comforted him in a way he hadn’t realized he needed.
Pastor Taylor said that Lizzi would see her parents and brother again in heaven. But for now, he asked the congregation to pray for Mr. Marriott.
It was then that the congregation followed Taylor’s gaze and saw Lizzi’s father in the back of the church. Without speaking, people sitting on either side of Bob hugged him. Everyone in the church turned around and raised their hands toward him in prayer.
“Get him through the day,” Taylor called out. “Bear him up.”
The tears were flowing freely now. Everyone shared in Bob Marriott’s grief. Everyone shared the shock that such a random act of evil could happen to a family who lived among them.
—
On Monday, October 15, search crews were back on the water. Marine Patrol and the U.S. Coast Guard rotated four vessels to keep the operation going nonstop. They were using side-scan sonar and an underwater camera, but visibility was still poor.
Peirce Island, which had been closed to the public for three days, was now searched with teams led by cadaver-sniffing dogs. A New Hampshire State Police helicopter swept over the area looking for anything that seemed out of place along the shoreline.
In nearby labs, experts used computer modeling to map the tidal patterns back to October 9, trying to project where Lizzi’s body might have been taken. New Hampshire officials asked authorities in Maine and Massachusetts to keep an eye out for a body washing up on shore.
The public wasn’t giving up on Lizzi either. A pair of seventy-year-old twin brothers, who claimed to know the craggy inlets of Portsmouth better than anyone alive, turned their morning walking routine into their own search, looking for signs of anything unusual along the shoreline.
At a press conference, Associate Attorney General Jane Young said that there were no plans to call off the search. She said they planned to keep on looking for Lizzi Marriott until they found her.
—
At Dover District Court, Seth Mazzaglia appeared on a TV screen for his video arraignment. He wore a gray county jail uniform, his hair disheveled. The charge was read.
Felony charges can only be tried at the superior court level, so no plea of guilt or innocence was entered. Seth was ordered held without bail and a probable cause hearing was scheduled for a few weeks later. He stepped away from the camera, not to be seen again in public for many months.
—
The marine search teams struggled through another day of rough conditions on Tuesday, but the waters were calm and the skies clear on Wednesday, October 17. Crews noted these were ideal conditions in which to search, and that it was probably their last, best chance of finding Lizzi’s body. Multiple boats worked the area around Peirce Island, and helicopters circled above them, covering as much shoreline as their fuel tanks would allow. The effort yielded nothing.
—
On Thursday, October 18, the University of New Hampshire held an outdoor service to honor Lizzi. Again, Bob Marriott was there to represent the family.
In the days since her disappearance, Scott Chesney, an official with UNH Academic Affairs, had been in constant touch with the Marriotts. Lizzi had only attended the school for a few weeks, and although her hope had been to move to the dorms in the spring, she wasn’t a resident student. Scott said that made her no less a part of the campus community. His own daughter was also a UNH student, so he empathized deeply with the grieving father. He was among the first from the school to offer his condolences.
“I know it’s raining and I know you’re off-campus right now,” Bob told Scott on the phone, “but I want you to drive into campus, go to your daughter’s room, and hug her as hard as you’ve ever hugged her. Tell her why she’s important to you.”
After the call, Scott Chesney did exactly that. He got into his car, drove to the dorm, and squeezed his daughter as hard as he could.
Students gathered on the large grassy hill outside the campus administrative building. As with all of the public remembrances, the crowd was mixed, with some who knew Lizzi and many more who had simply been touched by her story. In the crowd was also grumbling about some of the lurid details emerging in the press and of the unfair insinuations made about Lizzi.
She isn’t here to defend herself, the crowd whispered. It isn’t right.
Friends from high school and her time at Manchester Community College spoke about her sparkle and her kindness. The crowd heard from a boy she’d helped through a math class as well as from a young singer who’d performed with Lizzi in a chorus.
“There was a light to her. I can’t explain it,” one speaker said. “Lizzi’s spirit is connecting everyone together. Even though she is not with us, she is living inside us.”
The university president called Lizzi’s death “heartbreaking” and praised the community for coming together.
Bob Marriott finally got up to speak, the swelling under his eyes visible from the back of the crowd. He put on another brave face as he paid tribute to his daughter, maintaining his composure as he spun tales about her life, her love of the ocean, and how much it meant to her to finally be studying marine biology.
He told the students that because she was no longer able to make new friends, those assembled should make that effort.
“Make a connection and spread the light that was Lizzi,” he said. “Please reach out to your parents and tell them you love them and the next time you see them, give them a giant hug.”
Bob’s voice cracked as he thanked the UNH community for caring about his daughter. He took a seat in a folding chair as the service reached its final act. The event concluded with music playing on a loudspeaker, a recording of Lizzi singing “Into the West,” the Oscar-winning ballad written for the Lord of the Rings movies. But as he heard his daughter sing the lyrics, “Why do you weep? What are these tears upon your face?” he collapsed in sobs, his shoulders heaving and a handkerchief covering his eyes.
It was as if Lizzi’s haunting voice were singing directly to him.
“The ships have come to carry you home.”
—
The active search for Lizzi Marriott’s body continued on the Piscataqua for weeks. By Halloween, there were boats making daily trips past Peirce Island hoping to find something. When contacted by the student newspaper at UNH in December, officials said that boats on the river were still keeping an eye out.
The tremendous effort put into recovering Lizzi wasn’t solely for the benefit of her family. The Attorney General’s office had a murder case pending trial, and they were missing the most important piece of evidence of all: Lizzi’s body.
It is possible to win a conviction without a body. Some lawyer might attempt to argue that there was no proof Lizzi was dead, but the defense had already stipulated to that fact.
The AG’s office had been able to proceed with these kinds of prosecutions in the past, often because there was some biological evidence a person had died, like the discovery of incinerated human remains or the recovery of brain matter after a shooting. Although there was a statement from Seth, Lizzi’s missing body posed other vulnerabilities in the prosecution’s case, and the AG’s office knew the defense would exploit them.
Without Lizzi’s body, the state wouldn’t be able to medically prove what had caused her death, wouldn’t be able to prove that the manner of her death pointed to homicide, wouldn’t be able to prove it hadn’t been an accident, and wouldn’t be able to forensically prove who her killer was.
Without Lizzi’s body, it was undeniable what was needed for a conviction at trial: The state desperately needed Kat McDonough to testify as their star witness against her boyfriend.
—
There were times, after the police reopened Peirce Island, that Bob Marriott would drive there and walk to the same overlook where Seth and Kat had once watched the tankers pushing upriver, walk past the same tree the couple had claimed was magic.
Bob made the trip alone, as Melissa couldn’t bring herself to spend any time gazing out across the water while her daughter was still missing. The winds blew harder and colder at the outlook as the autumn wore on. The salt air filled his nose as he scanned the coastline.
Any father would feel ambivalent. Any father would feel the opposing pulls of hope and dread as the search for his dead child stretched from days into weeks.
Lizzi had always wanted to live in the ocean. Now, it seemed, the ocean would be her tomb.