Eleven
It was not that Michael Peterson was being charged with any crime. It was just an investigation the Durham police were conducting, trying to conclude what, exactly, had happened to his wife.
As it was, the police had entered the Peterson mansion on the night of Kathleen’s wake. They hadn’t expected anyone to be home. They hadn’t wished to confront Michael Peterson, his two sons, two of his daughters, or his brother Bill. The police had been blamed by the family for interfering with their going to Kathleen’s viewing, but police had not requested that the family stay at the house that evening.
Kerry Sutton, Peterson’s attorney and friend, had blasted the actions of police in the press, stating she was stunned by their behavior, by their insensitivity. But actually, it was Sutton who had advised Michael Peterson to stay in the house during the search.
The Durham police had a job to do. They were still investigating Kathleen’s fall. And that job would continue, even while Kathleen’s family mourned at her wake, even while they mourned at the Duke Chapel during her funeral service.
Most of Kathleen’s family had found a way to put the police business on a back burner. Most of her family had found the strength to stand up and speak on Kathleen’s behalf, especially on the day of her funeral. There was Caitlin, who said her mother’s impeccable character was enough to give each of her children the strength to fulfill their dreams. There was Maureen Berry, who spoke of Kathleen’s nonjudgmental nature, who said Kathleen was a uniquely upbeat individual, particularly with her husband by her side. There was Reverend Joseph Harvard, who told the congregation to keep the image of Kathleen dancing in their minds. The Reverend wanted people to remember Kathleen as she was, on the Friday night before her death. On that night, Kathleen had danced, until the early hours of the morning, in the arms of her beloved husband, Michael.
There were many testimonials about the love Kathleen shared with Michael. There were many people who felt the couple had been soul mates and they grieved for her widowed husband. As for Michael, he was so distraught about having lost his best friend, he was unable to get up and speak.
But regardless of the family’s loss, regardless of the media coverage, the fact remained that it didn’t matter how cold or calloused people believed the Durham police to be. The lead investigator, Art Holland, had observed a few curious things on the night of Kathleen’s death, and the detective had reason to pull a number of search warrants.
In fact, a number of the responding officers and paramedics had some misgivings about the death scene. For one thing, there was blood on the sidewalk leading to the Peterson home, which didn’t make sense. Mr. Peterson hadn’t spoken to police at all that evening; he had been too distraught. But having blood outside the door, and having blood outside on a can of diet Coke as well, that didn’t quite add up with Michael Peterson’s claims in his 9-1-1 calls.
Beyond the blood in strange places, there were other discrepancies. When Peterson placed the first emergency call, he reported that his wife was still breathing. But the paramedics at the scene noted that most of the blood around Kathleen was dry. According to the paramedics, Mrs. Peterson had been dead for some period of time . . . long before they arrived.
And there were other things that seemed out of place: a series of odd e-mails in Michael Peterson’s desk, a broken crystal wineglass, Michael’s athletic shoes and socks, which were all bloody, next to Kathleen’s body, and an unwrapped condom that was filled with fluid that didn’t appear to be semen.
After the initial police inventory was logged, the next search, which had been conducted the night of Kathleen’s wake, turned up items in Mr. Peterson’s home that were even more out of the ordinary. There were wild pornographic materials found in Peterson’s office. There were unusual pornographic Web sites listed on his main computer. And hidden among Peterson’s bookcases were strange things such as the O.J. Simpson Notebook and packs of unused condoms.
Not that Detective Holland was ready to charge Mr. Peterson with anything, but the detective was in a “conversation” with Jim Hardin, the Durham district attorney. And while Michael Peterson was asserting that Art Holland and Jim Hardin were treating him unfairly—showing people the newspaper columns he had written, columns in which Peterson had attacked DA Hardin and police officials for the gang violence and drug problems in Durham—the fact was, Jim Hardin was being very methodical about his job, as was Detective Holland. They were under an ethical obligation to determine what had happened in the Peterson home in the early morning of December 9, 2001. And they were in no rush to judgment.
Barry Winston, Peterson’s attorney, told local news reporters that the investigation would clear his client. Winston was advising Peterson not to speak with police because of what he called their “heavy-handed tactics.” Kerry Sutton told the media that she hoped the police weren’t going to persist in asking Mr. Peterson to “prove a negative.” It wasn’t her client’s job to prove that he wasn’t guilty. It was up to the police to show culpability . . . whether it be Mr. Peterson, someone else, or no one at all.
DA Jim Hardin had not yet submitted the investigation’s results to a grand jury. The investigation was still open. The Durham police had asked his office to assist, and the district attorney was doing that, even though his office had not made any decisions.
As the investigation progressed, the police began looking at records of phone calls from the Peterson house and from the Petersons’ cell phones. However, after a week of searching, no unusual phone patterns had turned up. The police could only characterize Mrs. Petersons’ death as suspicious. Attorney Barry Winston would repeatedly insist to the media that his client Michael Peterson was innocent. Winston reminded people that the phone records proved one thing: Michael had done what anyone would do in his situation, which was to call 9-1-1.
To all of his supporters, the situation seemed obvious; Mr. Peterson’s local political commentary had gotten him into a snarl. That was the opinion of all of his friends and family. People were concerned that Michael was slowly being framed. After being advised to search for a more powerful attorney, Michael agreed to make some calls. If the local officials were intent on blaming him, Michael needed to arm himself. Michael had plenty of net worth. And just to be safe, he decided he would make a round of phone calls.
Looking for the best lawyer that money could buy, Peterson fired Barry Winston in favor of David Rudolf, another Chapel Hill attorney, who had a reputation for being one of the best defense lawyers in the South. David Rudolf was not only high-powered, he had just reached national attention for his victory in a case that involved an NFL player, Rae Carruth, the Carolina Panthers wide receiver. Carruth had been facing the death penalty on a charge that he had killed his pregnant girlfriend, but with Rudolf defending him, the NFL player was convicted of the lesser charge of conspiracy.
Although Peterson no longer wrote columns for the Herald-Sun newspaper, Peterson still kept his political views in front of the public by having his own web site, www.Hizzoner.com. However, in light of all the controversy, Mr. Peterson decided to pull down all of his political barbs. It was a sad commentary on civil rights in America, but Peterson felt he had lost his right to free speech. In light of the serious accusations being hurled at him following his wife’s death, Peterson could no longer continue his free-wheeling attacks on the police and local officials. Peterson needed to focus on his innocence. Peterson needed to remind the community about how much he loved his wife.
In place of Peterson’s political commentary about the dismal state of Durham affairs, Hizzoner.com would begin to show only one thing. It was a beautiful photo of Kathleen in a brightly colored dress. She was smiling, with sparkles in her eyes, standing on the spiral stairway in their mansion. Under Kathleen’s photo, there was this loving caption, written by Michael’s friend Guy Seaberg:
“All of us at Hizzoner.com mourn the death of Kathleen Peterson, a dynamic, wonderful and remarkable lady—a loving wife, mother and friend. Her passing is Durham’s immense loss. Our love and sympathies to Mike, their children, and their entire family.”