Fifty-two
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:
1) The missing murder weapon wasn’t missing—and it wasn’t used to commit a murder.
2) There was no credible motive—and you don’t decide to kill your wife for no reason.
3) Michael and Kathleen Peterson were happily married, with no history of violence—and spousal abuse didn’t generally start with murder.
4) Michael Peterson’s grief and shock were sincere—and no one at the scene disagreed with that.
5) Kathleen Peterson’s injuries were not consistent with a beating. No skull fractures + no other fractures + no traumatic brain injury = no beating.
6) The bloodstain evidence was not consistent with a beating, and the state’s “real” expert did not dispute this.
7) The information and documentation from the scene was not reliable. Garbage in, garbage out.
8) The state relied on junk science and ignored the limitations of real science.
9) The state relied on emotion, guess, and conjecture.
10) The state’s investigation suffered from tunnel vision. Indictment first—evidence afterward.