Perfect Murder, Perfect Town (59 page)

The first question directed to Beckner was, “Are the Ramseys still a focus of this investigation or have they been elevated to the status of suspects?”

“Well, as you know,” the commander said, “we have not named suspects in this case, and we are going to continue to maintain that. What I will say is that we have an umbrella of suspicion. People have come and gone under that umbrella. They do remain under an umbrella of suspicion, but we’re not ready to name any suspects.”

As for Burke, who turned ten the month following his sister’s death, Beckner said, “At this point, we’re treating him as a witness.”

That the media had picked up the scent was evident from the next question: “Can you tell us specifically why it’s important to reinterview John and Patsy Ramsey and what kind of progress you’re making in getting them to agree to a second interview?”

Beckner explained that many witnesses had been interviewed more than once. That happens in many cases, he emphasized. “Also understand,” he added, “it’s been approximately six months since we last interviewed the Ramseys. During that time, there’s been a lot of investigation. We’ve uncovered a lot of new information. We have a lot of new questions. And they can help us answer those questions. They are significant in this case, and they have information that’s important to us.”

Then Beckner concluded, “We made our formal request last week and have not heard back from them. But
they have indicated every willingness to cooperate and have done so during my nine weeks anyway. So I expect we’ll get that done in the near future.”

As anticipated during the strategy sessions with Steve Pitt, the press picked up on the theme of the Ramseys’ alleged cooperation. “Can you outline or give us a sense,” one reporter asked, “of how the Ramseys have been cooperative and helpful since you have taken over?”

“I can only talk about the time that I’ve been involved,” Beckner replied. “And thus far we’ve made several requests, and they’ve honored those requests. We have several more pending and we’re still waiting to hear from them.”

“Is it fair to say your office is trying to establish a new relationship with the media and with the American public?” Beckner was asked.

“I’m being myself,” the commander said. “This is me. And you either like it or you don’t, but I’m not Tom Koby. I’m not anybody else. And this is how I interact when I interact with the media.”

When the Ramseys’ attorneys reviewed Beckner’s press conference, they were sure a deal had been cut between Hunter and the commander to take the case to the grand jury. It now looked inevitable. They only hoped that once the case got into Hunter’s hands, it would be investigated seriously.

When Fleet White heard there might be a grand jury, he understood that he would be called as a witness. White, who had been cleared as a suspect on April 16, requested copies of the statements he and his wife had made to the police during the first days of the investigation. He wanted to refresh his memory, and must have read that the Ramseys had received copies of their statements. He wanted the same consideration. In fact, unknown to the public, other witnesses’ attorneys had guaranteed their clients’
cooperation in exchange for copies of their early police statements.

In White’s case, Mark Beckner said no. The commander didn’t care what had been done in the past; his policy was different. Hunter’s office had the final word, however, and agreed with Beckner’s decision. White was told it would not be appropriate for him to have his statements. Unable to reconcile that decision with the treatment the Ramseys had received, White let it be known to the police and close friends that he was losing confidence in the DA’s office.

GRAND JURY STRATEGY

In 1991 I received my summons. I had no idea what was expected of a grand juror. All I knew was that this was secretive and I couldn’t talk about what was happening. That was what I thought about. It was so secretive.

We all met at the old Boulder courthouse, just off the Pearl Street Mall. Everyone was naïve when we were interviewed. What did I do for a living? Can I take a day a week off? Sure. I’d have no problem with that. I never thought I’d be appointed. I was, and I didn’t mind doing my civic duty.

L.A. Law had just started, so I watched the show while waiting to be called to duty. That show put me in the mood.

Then I was notified the grand jury was needed. We met in the evening and I wasn’t allowed to tell anyone what I was doing. The whole thing was frightening.

At first the deputy DA gave us an overview of the case. It was a drug case. The lives of some police officers had been endangered. Then the DA presented all the evidence and many witnesses. The witnesses had nobody to protect them; they weren’t allowed an attorney.

We were allowed to question the witnesses ourselves. Sometimes I felt that we should have asked more questions. I was so intimidated. I was afraid to ask the DA some questions. I just didn’t want to come off stupid. If I have any advice for a grand juror, it’s that you should ask a lot more questions.

There were some witnesses who took the Fifth. They’d answer a few questions and then they’d take the Fifth. They took the Fifth again and again. They took it until the DA asked them to leave.

That made me think they were hiding something, even though we were told they had a constitutional right to take the Fifth. Just hearing someone take the Fifth has to have a negative influence on any jury. In my case, it cast doubt on the person that the DA was trying to build a case against. I
even thought that maybe the DA called the witness knowing he was going to take the Fifth, that the DA was trying to plant a seed of doubt.

It was strange. I remember considering the evidence, rereading some testimony, some records, considering the testimony of the people who spoke; but the memory of the people staring right at you—taking the Fifth. I could never get away from the image of a person continually saying nothing. The doubt was there. So you go, “OK, do we disregard that person because they never said anything?”

I felt I was only seeing part of a picture. Some jurors kept saying, “Why didn’t they bring up this?” Or, “Why did they bring that up in the first place? Was it because they wanted us to link this guy over here to that one over there?” We had the feeling that games were being played. We were being manipulated.

Someone should have been there to represent the other side, to make sure this tool doesn’t get misused.

That is why we voted unanimously not to indict. On a second case we did indict.

—Anonymous grand juror

On December 14, Boulder’s First United Methodist Church held a memorial service for JonBenét. The program included “A Christmas Message from the Entire Ramsey Family,” which had also been posted on the family’s Web site, which the family’s press representatives maintained. It gave journalists quick access to the Ramseys’ press statements and transcripts of television programs regarding the case, and the various ads and flyers the Ramseys had released.

“On the one hand, we feel like Christmas should be canceled,” the message read. “Where is the joy? Our Christmas is forever tainted with the tragedy of her [JonBenét’s] death.
And yet the message rings clear: Had there been no birth of Christ, there would be no hope of eternal life, and hence, no hope of ever being with our loved ones again.”

Local freelance writer Frank Coffman mentioned to Patsy’s onetime friend Judith Phillips, whom he had met through Jeff Shapiro, the phrase
and hence
in the Christmas message. Phillips remembered that
and hence
appeared in the ransom note too: “if we monitor you getting money early, we might call you early to arrange an earlier delivery of the money and hence a [sic] earlier pick-up of your daughter.”

Phillips told Steve Thomas about the similarities they had seen and Coffman told Lou Smit, who said it was a good find. He agreed with Coffman that the writer of the ransom note was educated and seemed too sophisticated to be a typical sex criminal. It sounded more like someone with business experience, who was in the habit of writing. It might even be a friend of the Ramseys, Smit thought.

Hunter was also told about the phrase
and hence
and he told Donald Foster. The Vassar professor thought it was significant. All these little things add up, he said. Hunter, who had recently found Foster erratic during their conversations, told the linguist that the police would soon be contacting him with additional writing samples. To one confidant of Hunter the DA seemed to be losing interest in Foster.

That same week, Lou Smit received a letter from John Ramsey, who gave the investigator his list of suspects in his daughter’s murder: Jeff Merrick, Mike Glynn, and Jim Marino—all of whom had once worked for him—and Bill McReynolds, who had been Santa at their Christmas party. To Smit it was clear that Ramsey was desperate for the police to check these men, because they had all but stopped looking for suspects other than him and his wife. Smit, too, was frustrated. He was eager for the case to be turned over
to the DA’s office, because he knew Pete Hofstrom would be a fairer arbiter of the evidence.

After the first of the year, Smit showed Ramsey’s letter to Alex Hunter, who then showed it to the police. The detectives found it odd that Ramsey had written to Smit at home and that he had named Jim Marino as a suspect when Marino was appearing on television in support of the Ramseys.

As soon as the detectives finished one task, Mark Beckner moved them to the next. Now they were recanvassing the Ramseys’ neighborhood, on the possibility that the duct tape and the rope had been obtained from a nearby home and the remnants returned to their original location. Detective Weinheimer asked Margaret Dillon, who lived at 756 14th Street, across the Ramseys’ back alley, if she’d had any tape or white cord in her garage at the time of JonBenét’s murder.

“Why, I don’t have a garage,” she replied.

“OK,” Weinheimer said. Then he asked: “Do you have a stun gun, or a taser?”

“What’s that?” she asked. “Is it something like a cattle prod?” Then he asked about Hi-Tec shoes. She knew nothing about them, either.

When the detective left, Dillon wondered why he had asked her only whether she kept duct tape and white cord in her garage. Why didn’t he ask her if she had those things in her house? From his manner, she was surprised he didn’t ask her if she had run across the alley and killed JonBenét. In Dillon’s opinion, Weinheimer had simply wanted answers—any answers—to a short list of questions. He hadn’t seemed interested in
investigating.

On December 8, Hal Haddon learned that Lisa Ryckman of the
Rocky Mountain News
was about to break a story about the unidentified Hi-Tec shoe imprint that had been found next to JonBenét’s body. Within an hour, he faxed her a letter.

Ryckman called Furman and told him that Haddon’s request had been rejected and that her story would be published as written originally.

When Alex Hunter heard that Ryckman was going to break the story about the shoe imprint he also worried about the release of this information. The police had so far been unable to date the imprint. They didn’t know whether the owner of the shoe was aware that the print had been left behind or, indeed, if it was even connected to the murder. Now, with the public revelation, the owner of the Hi-Tec shoes might destroy them—even if he or she wasn’t the killer. If that happened, investigators might never understand this piece of the puzzle.

Meanwhile, reporters were canvassing the Ramsey neighborhood looking for a new angle to use in their stories on the first anniversary of JonBenét’s murder. Louis Sahagun of the
Los Angeles Times
interviewed Margaret Dillon, who told him that the police had asked her whether she knew if the Ramseys owned a Taser or stun gun. They had also asked her about duct tape and white nylon cord, she said. When Sahagun called Rachelle Zimmer, a Ramsey spokeswoman, to check the information, he learned that they had “known about the use of a stun gun in this murder for many months.” She added, “It must now be clear to any open-minded person that this vicious crime was committed by an outsider.”