Portrait of a Monster: Joran Van Der Sloot, a Murder in Peru, and the Natalee Holloway Mystery (31 page)

Her criticism of the ruling sparked an angry backlash among the Arubans, the majority of whom had been expressively sympathetic. In downtown Oranjestad, more than two hundred people protested at the yellow colonial-style courthouse, many carrying placards with messages of “INNOCENT UNTIL PROVEN GUILTY” and “RESPECT OUR DUTCH LAW OR GO HOME.”

The Holloway story had created a very public negative image of Aruba, a usually quiet, distant Caribbean island overlooked by the crowds. Tourism had been badly affected, with bookings down significantly. Many Arubans thought the media was presenting the island as a backward banana republic, despite its having a low crime rate and a well-educated population, many of whom were able to speak four or five languages.

Elgin Zeppenfeldt, a lawyer for Satish Kalpoe, called Beth’s comments “inflammatory, libelous and totally outrageous,” and threatened legal action against Natalee’s mother. “A criminal is a person who has been tried and found guilty in a court of law, while a suspect is a person who is under investigation by corresponding authorities,” Zeppenfeldt said in a statement his office released that Wednesday. “Mr. Kalpoe is the latter. The statement made by Mrs. Twitty, calling Mr. Kalpoe a criminal, is uncalled for, especially since my client is maintaining his innocence.”

Later that week, Beth issued an apology, saying that her comments were the result of frustration and despair. She went on to thank the people of Aruba for their continued efforts in helping to locate her daughter.

The Arubans understood Beth Twitty’s desperation. They also were invested in finding her daughter and arresting her murderer, but they needed Beth to temper her criticism of their homeland and justice system.

Murder on Aruba was a highly unusual crime. On the average, there were between four and five murders a year, usually connected to a domestic dispute or drug-related violence. Murders of tourists were virtually unheard of.

A high-profile disappearance and likely murder such as the Natalee Holloway case was unprecedented.

The timing of her criticism had potentially devastating effects on the Aruban economy. Tourism was fundamental to sustain the island’s relatively affluent state for a Caribbean nation. Nightly coverage focusing on murder and drugs perpetuated fear, when in fact Aruba had one of the Caribbean’s lowest crime rates. So, just when Americans and Europeans were planning their winter vacations, Aruba’s appeal had vanished along with Natalee.

The number of people helping search for Natalee had been in the thousands, made up of tourists and locals alike. Uncountable volunteer hours were supplemented with donations of money and supplies of food and equipment for those out looking in the harsh conditions. Arubans had lovingly tacked up posters of the missing teen over the island’s seventy-five square miles.

Dutch Marines had been dispatched from the Netherlands to assist those already on the ground and engaged in the massive search effort. Three F-16 jets had also been deployed from Holland and sent to the neighboring island of Curaçao, which they would use as a staging area to conduct flyovers of Aruba’s terrain and surrounding waters. The F-16 fighter jets, also known as Fighting Falcons, were rigged with special infrared sensors to aid in the searches.

Beth’s criticism of the Kalpoeses’ release seemed to promote a sense that Aruban justice officials were equal to the
Keystone Kops.

It bears noting, however, that the methods of Dutch and American investigations differ in several ways. One difference: Dutch detectives do not speak to journalists on or off the record, as is common practice in many countries. In the Holloway case, the American press filled this “information vacuum,” first with suspicions of incompetence, and then with a slew of rumors and speculations. Another difference: plea-bargaining does not exist in the Dutch judiciary. Therefore, arresting all three suspects and hoping one will squeal isn’t an option in Aruba.

Nonetheless, anything connected with the Natalee Holloway case was a media event, and Deepak and Satish Kalpoe’s release from jail was no exception. Cameras captured them coming out of the prison like hobos with their possessions packed in black, plastic garbage bags. They kept their heads down and climbed into a waiting SUV without speaking to reporters and were quickly driven away.

Joran van der Sloot was now the only suspect still in custody. The ruling to detain him for an additional sixty days had come as a surprise. He had thought the presentation by his attorneys at the hearing had been strong and persuasive. Nonetheless, the evidence was sufficiently compelling and his detention was extended.

At the hearing, Joran did win the right to have legal representation during police interrogations, something he had been denied. Having an attorney was a victory for the defense, but it also safeguarded the prosecutors. Joran had been complaining to his mother about the bullying tactics used by detectives. Having a lawyer present on his behalf would eliminate this issue.

Prior to the hearings, his father had advised him to remain silent during an inquiry, advice he had rejected. Each time Joran spoke, he changed his story and multiplied his problems. Now that the judge had extended his detention, Joran vowed he would no longer cooperate.

Whatever mess Joran had made by speaking until now, at least his father had been freed. In sixty days, he would also be released unless new evidence was discovered. He promised to make them sixty silent days.

On July 9, Joran was taken to police headquarters in Oranjestad for his sixteenth round of interrogation, this one the first to be audio recorded. Previously, they had been attested to by sworn statements.

Detectives Haydee Nadal and Marlon Gumbs began the questioning to a blank stare. Joran had his lawyer present and seemed emboldened and defiant; calm and disinterested.

“Did you see anyone else at the beach during the time you were there with Natalee?” Detective Nadal asked.

Joran glanced at his attorney, then back at the detective. For several minutes, he sat silently, with his narrow, brown eyes fixed on his interrogator.

“What was the last thing you said to Natalee that night?” the detective prodded. “What was the conversation?”

Joran said nothing.

“In a previous statement, you told us that you had seen someone on the beach that night. Was it a couple or a homeless person?”

Joran blankly announced he had nothing to say and refused to sign the sworn statement.

When the interview was officially over, Joran explained his new conviction that the police were responding to intense pressure from the media. High-profile cases necessitated quick arrests, and his situation was an example.

“You just want someone to hang,” he declared, suggesting they had the wrong man.

Nine days later, Joran and police staged a second reenactment at the beach recorded by a technical team. When they returned to headquarters, Joran refused to answer questions about it.

He also refused a request to provide DNA. “I am not prepared to voluntarily give DNA samples of myself,” he dismissively announced to Detective Jacobs.

The questioning continued. “Is it true the parents of Natalee Holloway wanted to speak with you? And have you spoken to them?”

“In regard to your question,” Joran announced, “I can answer in the following way.” He then proceeded to stare at Jacobs, giving no answer at all.

Aggravated, Jacobs’s partner, Eric Louis Soemers, turned to the lawyer to see if there were any acceptable questions.

“That may be possible at a later date,” the attorney replied.

When the interview was over, Joran reviewed the transcript, including the details of his decisions to invoke his right to silence. He declared the statement was accurate but refused to sign it. When asked why, he remained defiantly silent.

*   *   *

Natalee’s father, Dave Holloway, had been in Aruba for more than six weeks. He had participated in dozens of searches: digging in the cactus scrub brush with Tim Miller’s cadaver dogs; searching the water from one of the boats outfitted with side-scan sonar; standing with teams draining swamps and sifting through landfills. But he had not met Joran van der Sloot.

On Saturday, July 16, Dave Holloway climbed into his rental car and drove to the Korrectie Instituut Aruba in Sint Nicolaas, where Joran was being detained. He parked and approached the entrance gate just as Anita and Paulus van der Sloot were coming out from Anita’s daily ten-minute visit.

Dave recognized them from the media coverage. He extended his hand to Paulus, introducing himself as Natalee’s father. Paulus pulled back, but Dave only tightened his grip. Dave needed to explain the purpose of his visit before they escaped to their car.

He wanted to speak to Joran, he said. Anita liked the idea, saying Joran had even mentioned interest in a meeting. Paulus disagreed. He didn’t think a meeting was prudent until the police had finished their investigation.

Dave pulled two photographs of Natalee with her two sisters from a pocket, and activated a tape recorder hidden in another pocket.

For nearly forty minutes, Dave and the Van der Sloots stood in the parking lot exchanging stories about their families. Paulus and Anita confided that Joran had been tormented by his decision to leave Natalee alone on the beach, but he had not harmed her. He was only guilty of leaving her so vulnerable.

Dave, in turn, told them about Natalee and her three siblings back in Alabama and Mississippi who loved and missed her. He had accepted the possibility that his daughter was dead, but he needed to know what had happened to her.

Paulus was the guardian of his
own
family. He hoped Dave would find resolution in his search for Natalee, but as far as his son was concerned, Paulus was compelled to believe him and protect him.

Dave had brought three spiritual books with him, hoping to give them to Joran in jail. Instead, he presented them to Paulus.

Paulus accepted two, but declined the third, the Bible. Joran had a copy already and had been reading it since his incarceration.

The men embraced before returning to their cars. Dave had decided to postpone facing Joran. He had come no closer to answers about Natalee, but he still came away feeling like he had communicated with the Van der Sloots on a compassionate level.

On July 25, Beth Twitty announced a reward of $1 million for information leading to the safe return of her daughter. Generous friends had come forward to pledge the enormous reward.

A separate reward of $100,000 was offered for information vital to solving the case. Tips began to stream in—odd activities at landfills; submerged barrels; and shallow graves. They were all actively investigated.

One person claimed to have seen a man dumping a bag at a landfill in the middle of the night. Another witness said he had been jogging two days after Natalee had vanished and had seen several men discarding a woman’s body at the same landfill.

The landfill on the southern part of the island had already been searched by the police and the FBI. Still, Natalee’s father wanted to search again. “If we find the haystack, we can find the needle,” Dave told members of the press. “But where is the haystack?”

Over the weekend of July 30, searchers scoured through debris in the stultifying heat. Their heavy equipment, including a backhoe and a bulldozer, was supported by K-9 teams. Between the heat and the amount of trash, the task was monumental.

The landfill supervisor directed the group to an area of the landfill where the garbage from early June would have been dumped. Dates on old newspapers confirmed they were in the right spot. Ebby, a border collie in the canine unit, became excited several times but soon lost interest. The scent arousing her curiosity was most likely medical waste mixed with hotel and residential trash.

For the human searchers, the stench emanating from the heap in the searing heat was unbearable, despite a series of upgrades in face masks.

They labored for hours, digging five- to six-foot holes about fifty yards apart, which were then scanned by the K-9 units. Ultimately, the landfill held no new clues.

Another tip came from a tourist who had spotted a barrel under water just off shore, half-buried in sand. After locating it, Tim Miller, his team, and dozens of volunteers tethered it with ropes and wrestled it onto the beach. It was filled with construction debris, illegally dumped but insignificant to the Holloway case.

The Arikok National Park was the setting of another tip. The park on the northeastern part of the island was a eight thousand acres of dunes, limestone caves, craggy shores, and inlets. It was there that someone had noticed what appeared to be a shallow grave in the sand.

The Miller team was stunned but confident when they saw the sight in a remote area of the park. Within the cactus scraggle, the impression in the sand was six-feet long, four-feet deep, and edged with dirt piled on one side. It was clearly man-made and freshly dug, but it was empty.

The searchers discussed the possibility that this had been a temporary grave for Natalee, who had since been moved. They conducted an exhaustive search of the area but could not uncover any trace evidence supporting a human grave, not a fiber nor a hair. Cadaver dogs brought to the location showed no interest in the hole, either.

It was finally identified as a drop site for illegal drug runners. The area was so remote that traffickers could come and go by boat, bury an illegal cache, and have it recovered on land later. But it was not Natalee’s grave.

Another discovery on the northeast coast looked promising as a lead. A piece of duct tape with several strands of hair, both blond and dark, was found by a park ranger, Mario Rasmijn. He had been picking up litter in Boca Tortuga, a craggy inlet pocked by small caves, when he discovered it.

Samples of the hairs were divided between a crime lab in the Netherlands and an FBI lab in Quantico, Virginia. Both labs concluded the hairs were not Natalee Holloway’s.

A trained search team scavenged the old Atlantis Hotel, an abandoned and derelict beachfront property not far from the Marriott. Several hours of searching turned up nothing but a dead cat shrouded in a garbage bag.