Angel Face (6 page)

When they began examining other parts of the house, police found reason to believe that someone
had tampered with the scene. The evidence of a break-in in Filomena’s bedroom was particularly suspicious. A rock had been thrown through the window, apparently to gain entry, and the room was ransacked, with clothes pulled from the wardrobe and scattered on the floor. But the broken glass lay on top of the clothes, not under them, which suggested that the window was broken after the room was tossed. Police were also puzzled by the lack of bloody footprints leading out of Meredith’s room. Whoever killed her had to have been covered with blood, yet there were only a few faint sneaker prints outside the room and one partial bloody footprint on the bath mat in the girls’ bathroom, but no footprints leading up to it. Also, the rest of the house was oddly devoid of fingerprints.

After Meredith’s body was removed and all the obvious forensic evidence was collected, the investigators began to spray the apartment with Luminol, a chemical that can uncover blood even after the blood has been wiped clean. Sure enough, there were a woman’s bare footprints, Amanda’s size, outside Meredith’s room. These prints would be positively matched to Amanda, but in a serious procedural oversight, they were never tested to show conclusively that they were made in Meredith’s blood. Luminol also reacts to
certain acidic substances, so without additional testing, these prints—of someone who lived in the house—could not be directly linked to the murder. The Luminol also revealed more blood in the bathroom and a stray drop in Filomena’s room, where the break-in occurred. That drop would prove the most incriminating; it had Amanda’s DNA mixed with Meredith’s blood. At the time, however, police made no connection between the evidence of a clean-up in the house and the mop propped against the front porch. Several days later, when Raffaele was arrested, police searched his apartment and found a receipt for Ace brand bleach, purchased the morning of November 4, 2007, at 8:15. That bleach was probably used to clean his shoes and maybe even the knife. The clerk at a different store would later testify that he saw Amanda in the cleaning supplies section shortly after he opened on November 2, 2007, at 7:45 A.M.

While the scientific police collected crucial forensic evidence inside the house, the media were gathering equally damaging circumstantial evidence from the rooftop of the nearby parking garage. That’s where the growing number of reporters from Rome and London joined the local press in setting up cameras aimed at the tiny villa below. They saw the police, dressed in
white jumpsuits, comb the garden area and move quickly into and out of the house, taking bags of evidence to the waiting van. At the end of the garden, a group of young people were huddled on the gravel—friends of Meredith and of her Italian roommates. At the other end of the driveway, Amanda and Raffaele stood alone. They seemed only interested in themselves. Amanda was crumpled. Her hair was messy, and she was wearing wrinkled, faded jeans. She eventually put on an ill-fitting military jacket from Raffaele’s car. Raffaele was composed—his long hair perfectly combed and his clothes fresh, a yellow woolen scarf wrapped elegantly around his neck. Raf was distracted, looking around the garden and up to the roof of the parking garage, lost in thought. He had the same look of aloof detachment that he would later display in the courtroom. As Raf followed every movement of the police into and out of the house, Amanda hugged and kissed him constantly, almost desperately, and whispered in his ear. The video and still shots of them cuddling in the cold would become Exhibit A in the court of public opinion.

Carmignani, who knew all the cops by name, broke away from the gaggle on the roof and sauntered down to the crime scene. The police confided to him some
observations that never got to court. For example, police said Amanda’s body odor contradicted her claim that she’d just showered; she smelled like sex. They noticed that her face was puffy, with makeup smeared under her eyes. Because she was not then a suspect, no drug or alcohol tests were ordered. Before the police sealed the crime scene, Amanda was even allowed to go back into the house unescorted to collect a few things.

That afternoon, in London, Meredith’s father John Kercher heard that a British student had been stabbed to death in Perugia, and he had an immediate, gut feeling that it was Meredith. A freelance journalist for the British tabloids, John has the air of an academic, with his black turtlenecks, dark corduroy jackets, long gray hair, and sculptured beard. He would later write an article in the
Daily Mirror
describing that terrible day. The piece was published in tandem with his court testimony in Perugia, effectively scooping his colleagues on what he would tell the judge.

“Meredith’s mother Arline called to say she’s heard reports that a British girl student has been murdered in Perugia,” John said. “Obviously there was concern, but there are thousands of British students in Perugia and you try to use that as a calming influence.”

Still, John was worried, so he tried to call Meredith. His stomach dropped when he reached an automated message that her phone was off.

“For the next half hour I try at least a dozen times before it suddenly starts ringing.” Still no answer. He starts to panic. “By now my instincts have kicked in. I have to get information fast.”

John called the foreign desk of the
Daily Mirror
and asked what they had heard. They told him to call back in an hour and they might have more. When he called back, his editor confirmed his worst fears.

“I shall never forget her words: ‘The name going around Italy is Meredith.’”

John then drove to Arline’s house, where he was joined by their other children: Stephanie, John, and Lyle. “We’re all distraught,” he wrote in the
Daily Mirror
article. “By now, Arline has spoken to the Foreign Office who confirms the worst. At 9 P.M., Meredith’s photo comes on the news. The room falls silent. We all hug.”

4

“Everyone Cried Except Amanda and Raffaele”

O
N NOVEMBER 3, Meredith Kercher’s murder was the only thing on anyone’s mind in Perugia. The coffee bars were buzzing, radio and television news carried nonstop coverage, and a steady stream of cars crept past via della Pergola to get a glimpse of the
casa degli orrori
—“house of horrors.” The universities were still closed for the long holiday weekend, but the administration issued an official e-mail warning students to keep their eyes and ears open—an assassin was on the loose. The ERT scientific experts, up from Rome, had worked through the night collecting evidence and documenting the crime scene. It was still dark when an ambulance arrived to take Meredith’s body to the coroner. In London, her family members were finalizing
their travel plans to Italy. Meanwhile, Rudy Guede remained in Perugia, nervously milling around the city center, wracked with guilt and paranoia. Everywhere he turned, people were expressing shock and disbelief about the murder. Later, during his appeal testimony in November 2009, he told the court that he remembered it all—the blood, Meredith’s scream—and he knew he had to get out of town. But he waited a whole day to do it.

Amanda woke up in Raffaele’s bed on the corso Garibaldi, about a ten-minute walk from via della Pergola, around 11 A.M. They had breakfast, had sex, and then, around midday, went out to the newsstand by the basketball courts and scanned the headlines. At 5 P.M., Meredith’s friends began gathering in Piazza IV Novembre on the steps of the
duomo
for a memorial. A giant color poster of her smiling face had been erected, and red votive candles glowed on the church steps, lighting the late afternoon sky. Amanda and Raffaele did not go to the vigil. Instead, they waited until it was over before visiting a boutique near the
duomo
to buy underwear for Amanda. Her apartment had been secured as a crime scene, and except for the few things she was able to grab on the way out, she had only the clothes on her back. But instead of somberly
going in to buy the items she needed, she is shown on closed-circuit TV footage kissing Raffaele and laughing with him as they hold up various G-strings. In one still shot taken from the footage, Raffaele is standing behind Amanda with his hands on her hips and his groin pressed into her. A few days after their arrest, the store owner, Carlo Maria Scotto di Rinaldi, remembered their odd behavior and turned over the tape. “They came into the shop at about 7 pm and were there for about 20 minutes,” he later testified in court. “She bought a camisole and G-string. I heard her tell him that ‘Afterwards I’m going to take you home and put this on so we can have wild sex together.’”

On the night of November 3, Rudy went out with his friends. They drank, got high, and danced. They flirted with the students, as they always did. He could block Meredith out of his mind as long as he kept busy, but the moment he closed his eyes, he saw red. He couldn’t sleep. He wandered around Perugia all night, and in the morning he packed his rucksack and got on a local train to Milan, where he would switch for the Eurostar to Austria and then to Germany. He had very little money in his pocket, but he had to get out of Perugia before someone realized that the fingerprints in Meredith’s bedroom were his.

Over the next few days, Amanda was preoccupied with finding a new place to live. Her mother’s cousin, Dorothy Craft Najir, urged Amanda to come to her house in Hamburg until things settled down. Amanda refused. Later, the court would hear that she wanted to stay and help the investigators. In fact, she could not have left Perugia without raising an alarm. Detectives were watching her every move. Instead, Amanda repeatedly called Filomena and Laura to ask if they could live together again and to inquire after a refund for the rent and deposit she had paid. The two Italian roommates were perplexed by her behavior, as was Meredith’s new boyfriend, Giacomo Silenzi, who had been out of town when Meredith was murdered. The police were questioning all of Meredith’s friends, calling them to the station in groups to iron out certain elements of the crime. On November 2, Amanda was already at the police station when Giacomo arrived by train from his parents’ house in the Marche. “I couldn’t help thinking how cool and calm Amanda was,” he told the
Daily Mail.
“Meredith’s other English friends were devastated and I was upset, but Amanda was as cool as anything and completely emotionless. Her eyes didn’t seem to show any sadness, and I remember wondering if she could have been involved.”

Giacomo then talked with Meredith’s British friends, who all agreed that Amanda was oddly detached from this violent murder. One by one, they told the police that Amanda’s behavior was suspicious. In fact, Meredith’s friend Amy Frost was deeply offended by Amanda’s conduct when they were together at the police station on the day of the murder, waiting to be questioned. “Amanda put her feet up on Raffaele’s legs and made faces at him,” she later told the court. “Everyone cried except Amanda and Raffaele. They were kissing each other.” Another of Meredith’s friends, Natalie Hayward, remarked to the small group of grieving friends at the station that she hoped Meredith hadn’t suffered much, to which Amanda replied, “What do you fucking think? She fucking bled to death.”

Amanda also told both Amy and Meredith’s friend Robyn Butterworth that she had seen Meredith’s body inside the closet and covered with her duvet. Amanda “kept talking about how she had found Meredith,” Robyn recalled. “She sounded proud that she had been the first to find her.” Robyn soon quit speaking to Amanda. Meredith’s friends validated what the police were already thinking. They had also been observing the young American’s curious behavior. She was, to
them, so detached from the situation around her that they wondered, at times, if she was perhaps psychologically disturbed or in shock from the murder. They decided to tap her and Raffaele’s phones and heard Amanda say on November 4, just three days after the murder, “I can’t take it anymore.”

On November 4, Amanda was called back to the police station. They were hungry, so eventually Amanda sent Raffaele out for pizza, which they ate at the station while they waited to be questioned. The police, now suspicious of the pair, had set up a surveillance camera and taped their conversation in the waiting room.

“What are you thinking?” Raffaele asked Amanda, who looked concerned.

“I don’t want to be here. I want all of this to be over,” she said.

Then she started talking to Raffaele about a man without naming him. “I want to know who his friends are because he doesn’t have very many friends. He didn’t leave the house much. He didn’t talk much.”

The police were convinced that Amanda was talking about the killer. They were sure that she was protecting someone.

On November 5, the police decided to call Raffaele in for questioning one more time. They had a lot of information that didn’t make sense. Phone records showed that Amanda and Raffaele had turned off their cell phones at 8:30 P.M. November 1. According to the records, it was the first time Amanda had ever turned off her phone for the night. The same records showed that they then turned the phones on again the next morning just after 6, although they had told police they slept until midmorning. The police didn’t want to tip them off, so neither Amanda nor Raffaele had been asked about the phones yet.

Raffaele, the police felt, was the weaker of the two; if he knew anything, they thought they might get it out of him first. Raffaele arrived at the police station at 10:40 P.M. Amanda had not been called in for questioning, but she did not have any other friends in Perugia and she did not feel comfortable staying at Raffaele’s alone, so she came along. She brought her homework and sat in the waiting room studying while Raffaele was questioned. The chairs were stiff and uncomfortable. At one point, she got up to stretch her back. She did a back bend and then she bent forward and did a cart-wheel and splits. Two of the police officers on duty told
Amanda to stop. They told her that it wasn’t the right behavior for the situation.

While Amanda was performing gymnastics in the waiting room, Raffaele was destroying her alibi in a tiny room down the hall. His version of events of November 1 jibed with hers for most of the day; they slept in after a late night on Halloween, then spent the afternoon at via della Pergola, napping, smoking joints, playing the guitar in Amanda’s room. Then they went for a walk around town for a couple of hours and split up near the basketball courts so that Amanda could go to work at Le Chic. Later, they would change their story to say that they had both stopped by Raffaele’s house before Amanda left to go to work. But at the police station, he told a different story.