Authors: Diane Fanning
Written in Blood (21 page)
“Imagine that there's no skull fracture,” he said with incredulity as he dropped the blowpoke with noisy disdain back on the table.
“There's no brain contusions. There's no swelling of the brain. There's no internal hemorrhage, no subdurals, things that you would see from that kind of injury. No. None of it.
“And it's confirmed that it was a fall by other physical evidence that, as we said, Kathleen Peterson sustained those injuries to her head at least thirty minutes before Michael Peterson walked in and found her and called 9-1-1.”
Rudolf then used video clips of the experimentation done by Agent Duane Deaver to duplicate the blood spatter in the stairwell. He selected the cuts with care, showing the jury those he could mock the best.
“What our experts are going to say is that the amount of blood spatter in that stairwayâas horrific as it isâis not consistent with what you would get from a beating. It's consistent with what you'd get from hitting your head in various places.
“You've all seen dogs shake water off and it goes all over. Well, that happens with blood as well if it's wet, or hands or your clothes coming in contact with the wall. Or coughing up blood. Or sneezing blood. That's what causes all the blood spatter, you see. As bad at it is, that's what our experts will testify.”
Rudolf then disparaged the financial motive presented by the prosecution. Wrapping up that argument, he journeyed into hostile territory, the death of Elizabeth Ratliff. The judge had not yet ruled whether or not this evidence would be admitted in trial. The defense took a calculated gamble based on the old adage that the best defense is a good offense and dragged the elephant in the room up to the jury box.
“Now I'm going to talk about Elizabeth Ratliff,” Rudolf began. “Interestingly enough,” he said, placing his left hand on the side of his face, “Mr. Hardin chose not to. I'm not sure why he chose not to. He said before that it was a critical part of his case, but he chose not to. So let me address it.”
He stretched his arm toward the two frightened young women sitting on the front row on the far side of the courtroom. “We're talking about the mother of Martha and Margaret Ratliff. She died eighteen years ago in Germany. And you all have heard a lotânot everybody, but most of youâhave heard a lot about that in the news.”
Rudolf continued. “The police learned of her death in December 2001. How do we know that? Well, they asked Patty Peterson, who was Elizabeth Ratliff's best friend in Germany. They asked her about it in December 2001.”
He pointed out that the prosecution did not seek to exhume the body until fifteen months later, in March of 2003, and then held back the autopsy for another six weeks.
“And we will submit to you,” he said, pounding his finger into the podium again and again to drive his point home, “that the reason it was delayed for that long was to create a barrage of negative publicity to prejudice Mr. Peterson's right to a fair trial in this case just before the trial was to begin. And they succeeded. He was tried and convicted in the media.”
“Objection,” roared Hardin.
“Sustained,” answered Judge Hudson.
Rudolf continued, launching attacks on the series of
coincidences, claiming they were false. Hardin objected to numerous statements. Some Hudson overruled, others he sustained on the grounds that the defense's comments were argumentative. As his attorney spoke, Michael Peterson pulled his glasses on and off his face again and again. And he popped Tic Tacs as if his very survival depended on devouring as many as possible in the time allotted.
coincidences, claiming they were false. Hardin objected to numerous statements. Some Hudson overruled, others he sustained on the grounds that the defense's comments were argumentative. As his attorney spoke, Michael Peterson pulled his glasses on and off his face again and again. And he popped Tic Tacs as if his very survival depended on devouring as many as possible in the time allotted.
Up on the large screen behind Rudolf's back, Michael and Kathleen smiled across the room at the jury. “The truth is that Kathleen Peterson, after drinking some wine and some champagne, and taking some Valium, tried to walk up a narrow, poorly lit stairway in flip-flops and she fell and she bled to death.
“What Michael Peterson brought to Kathleen Peterson was true happiness over thirteen years. That's the pictureâthat's not posedâthat's Kathleen sitting on Michael's lap.”
Across the courtroom, Michael Peterson bowed his head. When he raised it, he spotted a camera, turned toward the photographer and grimaced.
Rudolf reiterated his claim of their loving marital relationship and insisted that everyone knew Mike had nothing to do with Kathleen's death. He then asked for a verdict of not guilty.
After lunch, the case in chief began. The first witness called to the stand by the prosecution was Jay Rose, a paramedic with Durham County Emergency Medical Services. Jay sank hard into the witness chair, outfitted
in the protective coloring of his uniform. From the look on his face, there were a lot of other places he would much rather be that afternoon.
in the protective coloring of his uniform. From the look on his face, there were a lot of other places he would much rather be that afternoon.
He sported a buzz cut in his pale hair and even though he was only 30 years old, the thinning process was taking its toll: his hairline receded on both sides of his forehead and on the top of his head. As if in compensation, his full moustache stretched down on both sides of his mouth. The arms of his wire-frame glasses pinched into the sides of his head, punctuating his obvious discomfort on the stand.
He walked the jury through his arrival at the scene, his assessment of Kathleen Peterson and his amazement at the large quantity of dried and drying blood. On cross-examination the next morning, Thomas Maher questioned Rose's honesty about the state of the blood.
Then, on re-direct, Hardin asked, “Now with respect to your observations of the scene and based on your experience and training as a paramedic, do you have an opinion on how long Ms. Peterson would have been dead when you arrived?”
Maher was on his feet in a flash. “Objection.”
The bench responded, “Overruled.”
Jay answered, “As I say, due to my experience, we were, I would say anywhere between thirty and forty-five minutes.”
“Okay. Based on your training and your education and the experience that you've had, do you have an opinion as to how long there will be activity in the heart after a patient dies?”
An indignant Maher stopped the proceedings,
“Objection. Now, can we be heard on this? Approach the bench?” And with those two questions, contentiousness introduced itself into the courtroom and did not leave the premises until the verdict was delivered.
“Objection. Now, can we be heard on this? Approach the bench?” And with those two questions, contentiousness introduced itself into the courtroom and did not leave the premises until the verdict was delivered.
After a lengthy argument outside of the presence of the jury, Judge Hudson responded. “All right, your motion to strike the testimony is allowed. I will instruct the jury that the witness has testified that Ms. Peterson had been dead for thirty to forty-five minutes. The jury is ordered to disregard that testimony, as the court has determined that the witness is not qualified to give such an opinion.”
David Rudolf told the judge that he wanted to confer with co-counsel about cross-examining the witness before the jury on that testimony.
“Well, you discuss that with Mr. Maher,” Hudson responded in his quiet drawl. “But when you ask the court to request the jury to disregard something, the presumption is that the jury disregards it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“It wouldn't make much sense to the court ⦔
“I understand.”
“ ⦠if you allowed them to cross-examine about something that they are to disregard.”
After lunch, the other paramedic and two first responders from the fire department related their viewpoint of the night's events to the jury. David Rudolf's cross-examination of one of the firefighters appeared to be designed more to make the witness appear stupid than to poke holes in the prosecution's case. It was not a pretty picture.
Assistant District Attorney Freda Black took control of the court to establish a financial motive for the murder of Kathleen Peterson. She questioned four Nortel Networks employees as well as an expert from the Durham County Probate Department.
Then she extracted the lengthiest and most complex testimony from a financial specialist for the North Carolina State Bureau of Investigation. Between them, the witnesses disclosed that Michael Peterson was the beneficiary for Kathleen's pension plan, her deferred income and her life insurance policyâtogether worth more than $1.8 million; that the couple had spent far more than they'd earned in the last three years; and that by the end of 2001, the couple had managed to accumulate more than $140,000 in credit card debt.
Black dressed for court in a manner some more conventional woman prosecutors might find frivolous. One dress trumpeted an uninhibited garden of orchids. Others were in more subdued colors. But all had a distinct feminine style. Her jewelry assortment was more restrained, favoring gold and pearls.
One bad hair day, Freda stumbled across a godsend right in her building and right off her witness list, Glenda Lilly from the probate department. Although Glenda worked in the courthouse, she came from a family of hairdressers. She could whip up a French twist or French braids quicker than most people could yawn. On days Freda could not get her hair to sprawl with calculated wildness past her shoulders, Glenda came to the rescue.
Beneath this decorative exterior beat the heart of a competent, ruthless member of the prosecution team. Freda extracted testimony about the financial status of Kathleen Peterson at Nortel Networks with great finesse. She guided each witness through a maze of numbers and benefit packages with focused, step-bystep explanations. And she was prepared. She provided the jurors with a copy of every financial document she discussed to facilitate their ability to follow along.
Pity the defense attorney who judged this woman to be an ornament for the prosecution.
Fiscal details that often make a juror's head swim had been laid in front of the panel in stunning clarity by the time Freda took her seat. The defense team, in contrast, seemed disorganized and confused. Their cross-examination was disjointed and abstract. And thus, it was easy to ignore.
Liz Ratliff's sisters, Margaret Blair and Rosemary Kelloway, agreed to participate in a television interview with Camille Whitworth at their homes in Rhode Island. Margaret received a call from her niece, Margaret Ratliff. Crying and sobbing, she begged them not to do any interviews. Moved by her tears, the sisters cancelled it.
For the next few days, Margaret Blair ran the conversation through her head and a realization dawned on her. Margaret did not believe her niece made that call on her own initiative. She felt certain someone was pulling her strings.
She called her niece back and told her that she and Rosemary would be granting interviews and asked her to
give a message to Michael Peterson: “Tell him the next time he wants something from me, tell him to call me himself instead of using you.” Margaret ached for her niece. The young woman had expended an incredible amount of energy defending her guardian. She insisted she had her act together, but Margaret Blair could tell she was falling apart.
give a message to Michael Peterson: “Tell him the next time he wants something from me, tell him to call me himself instead of using you.” Margaret ached for her niece. The young woman had expended an incredible amount of energy defending her guardian. She insisted she had her act together, but Margaret Blair could tell she was falling apart.
After the financial testimony, 9-1-1 telecommunications operator Mary Allen took the stand. Now it was the prosecution's turn to hit the PLAY button and fill the courtroom with the voice of Michael Peterson. Once again, Peterson displayed tears and a tormented face for the jury.
The faces of Margaret and Martha Ratliff radiated acute distress. Margaret shook and sobbed as she listened. Todd Peterson tried to comfort her by putting an arm around her, stroking her hair and rubbing her shoulder.
Corporals Juanita McDowell and Scott Kershaw, two of the first Durham police officers to arrive at 1810 Cedar Street followed Allen. They related the people and events they encountered on the scene that night.
On direct examination, Freda Black walked Sergeant Terry Wilkins through the early morning hours of December 9, 2001. On cross-examination, David Rudolf was intent on proving that the Durham police had botched the scene to such a great extent that no information they had to offer was reliable and that none of their conclusions were valid.
“You know that telephone that was on the counter there?”
“Yes.”
With a heavy tone of accusation in his voice, Rudolf asked, “Did she [Corporal McDowell] ever tell you that she asked Todd Peterson to get her that phone?”
“I believe I do remember hearing her mentioning that she needed to use a phone from the residence because as a corporal, she did not have a city phone to use.”
“And you're aware, are you not that generally speakingâby the way are you familiar with this book,
Practical Homicide Investigation?
”
Practical Homicide Investigation?
”
“Somewhat familiar with it.”
“That's sort of standardâI won't say
standard
âbut a lot of police departments use this as a reference?”
standard
âbut a lot of police departments use this as a reference?”
“I would say they do,” Wilkins admitted.
“Are you familiar with the fact that one of the things that this book talks about is never using the telephone at the scene?”
“Yes I am.”
“Because that's a problem in terms of possible contamination, right?”
“That's correct.”
Rudolf pushed him harder. “So that wasn't an appropriate thing for Corporal McDowell to do?”
“It was not the perfect thing to do,” Wilkins conceded.
“Okay. Um. She should have observed where Todd Peterson got that phone, right?”
“Yes. I would have preferred that.”
“If you had been there you would have required it, right?”
“If I had thought of it, I would have required it.”
“And, particularly if that phone was sitting in the stairway? In blood?” the defense attorney emphasized. “That would have been something you would have wanted documented as Todd Peterson was permitted to go and get that, right?”
“That's correct.”
“Indeed, you would not have let him go and get that phone, would you?”
“No, sir.”
Using the report that Wilkins filed, Rudolf pointed out all the places where he had mentioned blood in his report and got him to admit that never once had he described it as dried blood.
He then handed him Corporal McDowell's report and asked the same about her report.
“I don't see any mention of it being dried, no,” Wilkins replied.
Rudolf slapped two more scene reports in front of Wilkins and his identical line of questioning produced similar answers in response. Satisfied that he had laid enough foundation for doubt with this witness, Rudolf ended his cross-examination. After a lunch break, Black rehabilitated Wilkins with a few brief questions. Then the defense attorney wrapped up the witness's testimony with a masterful re-cross.
“If you had been present at 2:50 A.M. on December ninth, would you have allowed Heather Whitsun to walk in that door saying she was a medical doctor and not even asking for her name or her I.D.? Would you have done that?”
Trying to prevent the path of probing she saw ahead, Freda Black was on her feet. “Objection. Speculation.”
The judge squashed her attempts with just one word: “Overruled.”
If Wilkins could have fled the courtroom at that moment, he would have done so with great joy. He knew where this line of questioning was going and his reluctance to follow that road was etched across his face and punctuated by his stiffened body language. Nonetheless, he answered, “I probably would not have. Again, I don't know what Corporal McDowell or Corporal Kershaw had been told, so I couldn't base my assessment unless I knew exactly what they had been told.”
“I wasn't asking you to criticize them. I was simply asking what you would have done.”
“I probably would not have.”
“You wouldn't have allowed Todd Peterson to go up to Kathleen Peterson's bloody body, correct?”
“I wouldn't if I could have stopped him in time.”
“Right. You certainly wouldn't have given him permission to do that?”
“No.”
“You certainly wouldn't have given Michael Peterson permission or allowed him to go up to Kathleen Peterson's body?”
“No I would not.”
“You certainly wouldn't have allowed Michael Peterson and Todd Peterson to embrace after Michael Peterson was covered in blood?”
“No.”
Rudolf continued to pound on Wilkins, forcing him to condemn one judgment call of a colleague after another. He wrapped up with one final question: “And the reason why you wouldn't have done any of that [was] because
each one of those had the potential for contaminating the scene, didn't it?”
each one of those had the potential for contaminating the scene, didn't it?”
“Correct.”
“That's all I have.”
Relieved that the ordeal was finally over, Sergeant Wilkins rose from the witness stand and took his place on the bench behind the prosecution table. He gave a sympathetic look to the former police officer who took his place to corroborate the official version of the night's events.
Next to testify was Sergeant Fran Borden, the criminal investigation division officer on call on December 9, 2001. His head of thinning white hair, a bushy white moustache, wire-rimmed glasses and round face gave him the aura of a young, kindly grandfather. The nowretired fourteen-year veteran of the homicide division had been to more than 500 death scenes. He stood before the jury and used a diagram of the house to describe his actions and observations.
He spoke of Kathleen being coated in blood. As he proceeded to describe in further subjective detail, Rudolf interrupted with “Objection to commentary. There are pictures that will show what was there.” It was an odd comment for that attorney to make. It directly contradicted his argument during the defense opening where he explained that a picture has a point of view, but the narrative tells the whole story.
Borden continued telling the jurors that he had never seen a serious fall where the neck aligned with the spinal
cord. It did not make sense to him. That was one of the reasons that he'd made the decision to officially label the area as a crime scene. He took the jury through the steps he'd followed after that declaration until he'd left the home after 9 that morning.
cord. It did not make sense to him. That was one of the reasons that he'd made the decision to officially label the area as a crime scene. He took the jury through the steps he'd followed after that declaration until he'd left the home after 9 that morning.
On cross-examination, Rudolf established that Borden was the spokesperson for the police department in 1998 and 1999. He got Borden to admit that at one point, the chief of police had cut off all official communication with
The Herald-Sun
because of her displeasure with Michael Peterson's columns.
The Herald-Sun
because of her displeasure with Michael Peterson's columns.
Rudolf asked Borden questions about other articles critical of the department, but unfortunately for the defense, the jury, once riveted to every word of Borden's direct testimony, now slouched or rested their heads in their hands and appeared to lose interest in this line of questioning.
Then, Borden loaded his gun and took aim at the defense allegation of bias by the Durham police. “Actually, Mr. Peterson's columns, a lot of officers agreed with themâespecially his columns referring to what he called the Thirteen Dwarves of City Council. And he recommended that police officers and teachers and other public servants obtain higher raises at a time when the city council was giving themselves a pretty substantial raise.”
“Of course,” Rudolf interjected, “what you didn't agree with were his columns that were critical of the police department. [ â¦] When he would say things like the Durham Police Department intentionally didn't reveal rapes because they were hiding the crime rate, you didn't agree with that, did you?”
Borden looked the defense attorney dead in the eye. “You stand corrected, sir. Part of the reason I was let go as the media officer is because I wanted better communicationâopen communicationâwith all our news sources. Why? Because through the news media we were solving much more crime back when we were [ â¦] more in tune with each otherâwhen we liked each other. Chief Chambers came in and had a problem. And because I advocated more cooperation, I lost that job.”
Finally, Rudolf switched the examination to questions about the fatal night at 1810 Cedar Street. “Before you went inside there, when you spoke with McDowell and Wilkins, were you told, for example, that Todd Peterson had been allowed to go up to Kathleen and hug her?”
“No, I was not.”
[ â¦] “Were you told that Michael Peterson was allowed to go up to the body and hug her?”
“No, I was not.”
Were you told that Michael Peterson and Todd Peterson, both having blood on them, were allowed to embrace each other?”
“No, I was not.”
Rudolf continued hammering away, his voice stretched thin with exaggerated impatience. “Did you say to either of the officers there: âListen, did anyone other than the people giving first aid go up to the body?' Did you ask that question?”
“No, I did not
ask
that question.”
ask
that question.”
“That would be an important thing to know,” Rudolf badgered. “Wouldn't it?”
“[ â¦] I would certainly hope I would receive that information.”
“But you didn't ask for it?”
“Sometimes we don't have to ask, Mr. Peterson, we just get ⦠Excuse me, Mr.
Rudolf.
”
Rudolf.
”
Rudolf kept up a relentless attack on the credibility of his conclusions and the appropriateness of actions taken at the scene. “By the way, when you were considering the scenarios of how Kathleen Peterson could have fallen, [ â¦] did you consider or ask yourself how she got blood on the bottom of both her feet?”
“I wondered about that. I wonderedâI wondered about a lot of things, Mr. Rudolf. [ â¦] We did not have the luxury of information because no one was talking to us.”
Freda Black began her re-direct by establishing from Sergeant Borden that all officers on the scene wore protective gear and that he had experience at scenes where individuals had fallen down stairs. Then she asked if anyone took a statement from Christina Tomasetti so that she could go home to her husband.
“I believe so. I don't know,” Borden answered.
“You do know she was having an affair with Todd Peterson that night, don't you?”
An outraged Rudolf shouted, “Objection to that.”
“Sustained,” Hudson replied.
Black continued, “Now you were also asked ⦔
“Move to strike,” Rudolf interrupted.
A smug grin crossed Todd Peterson's face as the judge sent the jury out of the room. Bill Peterson gave his nephew an exasperated glance of disbelief.
Once the jury was out of hearing, Rudolf argued,
“Judge, as far as I know, what Ms. Tomasetti did that night was to go to Mr. [Todd] Peterson's parents' home, meet him, go to a party with a very large group of people, come back to the house to pick up her car, found the police officers there. And then, unless some police officer got her together with Todd Peterson that night, I believe she spent the night quite by herself.”
“Judge, as far as I know, what Ms. Tomasetti did that night was to go to Mr. [Todd] Peterson's parents' home, meet him, go to a party with a very large group of people, come back to the house to pick up her car, found the police officers there. And then, unless some police officer got her together with Todd Peterson that night, I believe she spent the night quite by herself.”
“So, I don't think she would have had an affair with anyone that night, assuming that she even were so inclined. Moreover, Ms. Tomasetti is married. [ â¦] It was an improper question. It demeaned and slandered Ms. Tomasetti, who is in fact married. That goes over the airwaves. For all I know, her husband is watching.”
Judge Hudson tried to hide his amusement at this turn of events by holding finger-laced hands before his face, but the twinkle in his eye gave him away. “Apparently, you know something more than Mr. Rudolf, Ms. Black.”
“I know Todd Peterson told members of Kathleen Peterson's family that his intention was to come home and have sex with her at the Peterson home.”
Hudson interrupted and told the prosecution to save that line of questioning for Todd Peterson if he took the witness stand. The judge struck that bit of courtroom theatrics from the record. Todd Peterson's face glowed from this notorious moment in the sun.
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