Perfect Murder, Perfect Town (54 page)

After the Quantico meetings, Sheriff Epp felt that Hunter no longer needed Steve Ainsworth. The DA had never been allowed to give him free rein and assign him to interview a string of witnesses. He had done a good job for Hunter, but now Epp wanted his detective back.

The six months he’d spent on loan to the DA’s office had been both fascinating and frustrating to Ainsworth. Some of his fellow sheriff’s deputies had told him he was wasting his time looking for an alternate suspect. Ainsworth would reply, “Maybe so, but that’s a door you’re going to have to close sooner or later, so you might as well get it done now.” Like Hunter, he believed that every possibility had to be investigated.

The Boulder police had a different attitude. In the first forty-eight hours after JonBenét’s death, only about 25 percent of the neighbors had been home. Now the other 75 percent would have to be interviewed. “We don’t need to do that,” one detective told Ainsworth. “We know what happened. The Ramseys did it.” That was the typical response of Eller’s detectives when it was suggested that they investigate a new lead.

Ainsworth felt the only real piece of evidence against the Ramseys was that they were home when their daughter died. But there was evidence that pointed away from the Ramseys—for example, the broken glass on the suitcase under the basement window, the scuff mark on the wall—although nothing indicated a specific person.

Ainsworth thought the crime scene exhibited an “organized disorganization.” In his opinion, the cord and roll of duct tape had been brought to the house. The note had been written before the Ramseys returned home that night. By writing a bogus ransom note, the intruder had made it look as if the Ramseys had committed the murder and had then covered it up in such a way as to make it appear that an intruder had killed JonBenét. “Using the pad and pen from the house,” Ainsworth told one deputy DA, “was a stroke of genius,” a ruse within a ruse. The Ramseys had not proven themselves in his eyes to be master criminals.

During the last days of September, a reporter told Alex Hunter, “If you don’t have this solved by Christmas, you’re out of here.” To Hunter the statement seemed an exaggeration, just like the stories the reporter’s newspaper published. But it was a clear indication of the public’s frustration. Still, the public was no more frustrated than the police and the DA, who knew that the available evidence so far proved nothing.

In this climate, Hunter had been talking to Bill Wise and Suzanne Laurion about how to repair the reputation of his office. The
Vanity Fair
article had left a stain on just about everyone involved in the case and was still a topic of conversation. When Hunter talked to several journalists he felt comfortable with and asked how his office was perceived, they answered as he had expected: his credibility would remain an issue as long as he was DA.

While he mulled over whether or not to change tack, Hunter continued to give a series of interviews to
The New
Yorker
, hoping to provide a more accurate picture of what he perceived to be his search for justice in the Ramsey case.

Meanwhile, Suzanne Laurion reminded him that he had many options, and on October 2, she presented him with an analysis.

A few days later, Hunter got a call from Koby, who wanted to see him as soon as possible. The chief said he had been thinking about the progress of the investigation and was considering some changes. Hunter had heard from Epp that Koby was moving toward replacing Eller, so he went into the meeting thinking the chief had actually made the decision.

When he arrived at Koby’s office, however, there was a tape recorder on the table. Koby wanted him to hear something his detectives had brought in. Listening to the record
ing, Hunter realized that Thomas and Gosage had worn a wire during a recent meeting with Jeff Shapiro and secretly tape-recorded a conversation in which Shapiro revealed the content of his private talks with Hunter, including the DA’s leaks to the
Globe
; Hunter’s meeting with
Globe
editor Tony Frost; his attempt to smear Eller, and other indiscreet disclosures to Shapiro, whom he knew to be a tabloid reporter. Hunter understood that what he was hearing could cost him his job. Bardach’s article was in part based on unnamed sources, but this tape was hard evidence.

Hunter was speechless. The question of what Thomas, Gosage, or Eller might do with this information would trouble him for months. Only his close relationship with Koby protected him from exposure.

Koby made no comment about the tape, and quickly changed the subject. He told Hunter he thought that Mark Beckner was the right man to take over the Ramsey investigation. Beckner, the father of two, had come up through the ranks of the Boulder PD and had once headed the internal affairs division. He had graduated from college with a degree in criminal justice and joined the department as a patrol officer. He was organizationally sound—made assignments, followed up, met deadlines, and maintained quality control. More important, under Beckner’s supervision, the detectives would no longer decide on their own assignments as they often had done under Eller. Koby said he planned to permit Eller to stay on as head of the detective division, a position he’d held throughout the JonBenét investigation.

Koby told Hunter that his decision had not been influenced by the internal investigation into Larry Mason’s legal claims against the commander and the department. Nevertheless, the DA understood that Koby did not want Eller’s reassignment to be perceived as having been motivated from outside the Boulder police department.

One detective who didn’t know about Shapiro told a reporter covering the story that John Eller had taken the fall for the leaks in
Vanity Fair
. As always, he had protected his officers. They had always respected their commander, and this only increased their admiration.

When Tom Wickman told the detectives that Eller was being replaced, they were outraged, though Gosage had warned them it was coming. When they learned that Beckner would be heading up the investigation, they were stunned. It was all wrong to put a “grazer” in charge of the Ramsey case, they said, Dave Hayes, an old-time “meat eater,” was their kind of man.
*

In the coming months, John Eller would arrive at work, walk into his office, and close the door—something he’d never done before. At five in the afternoon he would open his door and walk through the detective division on his way out of police headquarters. As he passed by, some detectives would mutter under their breath, “Fucking Koby.” One day a calendar indicating February 28, 1998, as the commander’s last day with the Boulder PD appeared on the wall near Eller’s door. Eller would mark off each day on the calendar. On New Year’s Eve, he held his annual party. All his detectives attended with their families.

Around October 8, my editor, Brian Williams, called me.

“Alex Hunter feels that some of the things he said to you have gotten out. He wants your access terminated.” Williams said it was completely over between me and Hunter.

I was floored, insulted. I had been fucked. I wondered if Hunter had found out all the stuff I was doing with the police.

Then Thomas called me.

“Jeff, you’ve got to decide if you’re a journalist, a private investigator, a mercenary, or whatever the hell it is you’re doing. I felt I owed you this phone call.”

I told Thomas that Hunter had terminated me. He didn’t sound surprised. He said things were hot, some confidentiality had been compromised. The detectives had all been told that if they were ever caught talking to one reporter, no matter how trivial the incident—a beer, a hello, a comment on the weather—their badge would be revoked. He said Koby had personally told him that if he ever talked to me again, his career was over.