The Mammoth Book of Celebrity Murders (43 page)

On 10 November Chapman was again back in New York, his intention murder, when his life intervened to change his plans once more. On his first night back in the city he had decided to take in a
movie,
Ordinary People
, starring Timothy Hutton as a suicidal youth trying to come to terms with his dysfunctional family. The film seemed to strike a chord with Chapman, who, emotional and
confused, left the cinema and phoned his wife Gloria. He calmly explained his purpose in New York – to kill John Lennon – but that her love had saved him; he was coming home.

His grip on reality slipped almost the minute he arrived back in Hawaii, the “little people” were talking to him again and the pressure he had felt before he had visited New York was
back on him. He started making random harassing calls and bomb threats; he was angry and explained to Gloria that he needed to establish a new career, something to work at, and to this end he was
going back to New York to try and do just that. Living with Chapman was a massive stress for Gloria and his return to New York would relieve the pressure, although this time the results would send
shock waves around the world.

Chapman returned to New York on 6 December 1980. In the taxi bringing him from the airport he told the driver he was a sound engineer, visiting to assist Lennon with his latest album. Once in
the city he checked himself in to a cheap room at the YMCA, before walking the nine blocks to the Dakota Building, where he intended to check out the site and get a feel for his quarry’s
movements. On the way there he bumped into a couple of girls with whom he struck up a conversation. Jude Stein and Jerry Moll said that Lennon knew them by sight and that he would often stop and
talk to them outside the Dakota Building. Chapman, once again taking this chance encounter as a sign, hoped that he could benefit from their relationship with Lennon and invited them to have lunch
with him – his treat – if they came back later. Meanwhile Chapman bought a copy of
Double Fantasy
, Lennon’s album, and headed off to the Dakota Building, the revolver
tucked inside his coat.

Chapman spent the next three hours pacing up and down outside the Dakota Building but to no avail, Lennon was nowhere to be seen. Now hungry and feeling the chill of the winter day, he set off
back towards his hotel, stopping at a book store on the way to buy a copy of
The Catcher in the Rye
, having strangely forgotten to bring a copy with him to New York. While he was collecting
the book he noticed Lennon’s face on the front cover of the December copy of
Playboy
magazine; it was his first interview in five years. Chapman bought the magazine and read the
interview in detail while he had his meal. The magazine reminded him of something that Holden Caulfield had done while he was in New York – when he returned to his room he telephoned for the
services of a call girl, choosing only to talk; she left at 3 a.m. $190 better off.

Chapman had by this stage removed himself from the YMCA and had checked in to the Sheraton; it was 8 December and something told him that this was to be the day. Dressing himself smartly and
setting aside the gun, his treasured book and Lennon’s album he then turned his attention to preparing his hotel room. Taking out the bible he opened it at the start of “St John’s
Gospel” and wrote the word “Lennon” after “John”, before spreading an array of photographs and letters he had received along the bedroom dresser.

With the hotel room laid out as a makeshift shrine, Chapman concealed the gun in his coat pocket, grabbed the
Double Fantasy
album, the book and headed out of the hotel, sure that this
time he would see the task through. He arrived at the Dakota Building and once more engaged the doorman in polite conversation for a while, before taking up a position a little further down from
the main door, where he settled down to read a few pages of
The Catcher in the Rye
. By concentrating on the book he missed his first opportunity of catching Lennon when he noticed him
gliding through the main door.

Continuing his “stake-out”, Chapman was soon joined by the photographer, Paul Goresh, who frequently took photographs of Lennon and Oko, and then by Jude Stein. After a while they
noticed five-year-old Sean Lennon leaving with his nanny and Jude was able to introduce Chapman, who later commented, “He was the cutest little boy I ever saw. It didn’t enter my mind
that I was going to kill this poor young boy’s father and he won’t have a father for the rest of his life. I mean, I love children. I’m the Catcher in the Rye.”

Over the course of the next few hours Chapman would recall that he saw many famous people entering or leaving the Dakota Building, including Paul Simon, Mia Farrow and Lauren Bacall, but not
John Lennon. And then out of the blue Chapman heard a familiar voice, he turned and saw John and Yoko amid a small entourage exiting the building. The photographer, Paul Goresh, had to push Chapman
into action, whereupon he mutely thrust out his album for Lennon to sign, passing him the pen in the process. Lennon looked at Chapman and replied, “Sure”, signing and dating the album
before passing it back to him.

Chapman was still in shock when Lennon asked, “Is that all you want?” Still in awe Chapman nodded and thanked him, but for some reason Lennon asked him again, “Is that all you
want?” Chapman simply smiled and replied, “Yeah, thanks, that’s all.” And with that they climbed in the car and were whisked away. When asked later why he hadn’t taken
the first opportunity to kill Lennon, Chapman explained that he couldn’t just shoot him, not when he had signed his album. Expecting Lennon to just brush past him and away, he was taken aback
by his sincerity – but not enough to call off the plan. As he stood there in the chilly air, Chapman was enthralled and offered Goresh $50 if he would give him the picture he had taken of
them both.

Fighting his inner demons, Chapman nearly left the Dakota to head back to his hotel but he lost the fight, deciding to stay and wait for Lennon’s return.

After what had been just another day at the recording studios, John Lennon’s white limousine pulled up outside of the Dakota Building. As he walked towards the front door he stared
intently at a familiar-looking young man who was standing to one side. As he was about to enter the building a voice behind him called his name; he turned to see the young man knelt on one knee,
his outstretched arms aiming a short-barrelled gun directly at him. Turning to run he heard the loud bang of the first shot and felt the searing pain of the bullet’s entry. After four more
bullets had been fired the deed was done.

Outside on the sidewalk Mark David Chapman opened his book and began to read – the police would come and arrest him and soon he would, for a short time at least, be as famous as his fallen
idol.

In the days that followed, the sidewalk at the front of the Dakota became a Mecca for fans looking to pay homage to the lost Beatle. At one point, Central Park housed 50–100,000 mourners
who had travelled from all over the US. Not since the murder of President Kennedy had the world been so shocked; people would later define Lennon’s murder in terms of where they were or what
they were doing at the time of his death, just as they had done over the President’s killing 18 years previously.

The world media engine pumped out a perpetual diatribe of Lennon stories before eventually settling on the murderer. Who was he? Why had he done it? And of course the conspiracy theorists moved
in – Lennon had been unpopular with the government; they had tried to have him removed from the US; maybe it had been the work of the secret service.

In reality it was just a deranged quasi-fan, Mark Chapman, a man under pressure, a man who spoke to the “little people”. It was a senseless death, carried out by a man who claimed he
just wanted to be an “average Joe”, but who was now despised by all those people who had adored John Lennon. Chapman was charged with second-degree murder, the most serious charge that
can be brought beyond the killing of a police officer. Herbert Adlerberg was appointed to Chapman’s defence team but soon resigned the post when he realized the difficulty of the job.
Alderberg had a strong reputation for taking on impossible odds, but with this case he could endanger himself just by association, such was the strength of public opinion. The police took the risk
of a public lynching so seriously that a round-the-clock guard was posted outside the hospital room where Chapman had been taken for psychiatric evaluation. His windows were blacked out in case of
a sniper attack. During his court appearances. Chapman would be dressed in two bulletproof vests, bundled into the back of a bulletproof van and driven to the courthouse, flanked on all sides by an
armed motorcade.

During his evaluation Chapman told the doctors everything, about the “little people”, his suicide attempts and his consideration of other potential high-profile victims. After hours
of observation the authorities concluded that although delusional, he was competent to stand trial, if a trial was possible – Lennon was dead and the public were baying for blood. The board
of psychiatrists were, however split, with six doctors prepared to testify that Chapman was psychotic, while three others believed that he did not measure up to the medical definition of
psychosis.

Chapman’s new legal representative, Jonathan Marks, was preparing his case hoping to present his client as ill, rather than bad, and on this count win a spell in a secure hospital rather
than the more severe prison, where it was feared he would be killed. In January 1981, another idea occured to Chapman – he would use the trial to promote
The Catcher in the Rye
, by
reading it during his trial. His prison guards even bought copies which they asked him to sign, which Chapman eagerly agreed to do.

Then in June 1981, as the case was being brought to court, Chapman had a change of mind – he would, as directed by God, now plead guilty. Marks tried to dissuade him, but when he failed he
challenged Chapman’s competency to change his plea via the courts. In a private chamber, devoid of both the public and the press, Chapman confirmed his decision to plead guilty and that he
understood the implications of his decision. Impressed by Chapman’s calm and collected demeanour, Judge Edwards accepted Chapman’s plea and on 24 August, amid a packed courtroom,
Edwards sentenced Chapman to from 20 years to life.

The world had got what it wished for – Chapman to be imprisoned in the inhospitable confines of a US prison cell, not cocooned within the relative comfort of a secure hospital. The
question of his sanity had been answered, his talking to the imaginary “little people” apparently the action of a warped mind, not of a mad one. It is an important distinction –
revenge on a person who is mentally ill is not as sweet as that extracted from a sane person and the world wanted to feel avenged.

In the first few years of his imprisonment Chapman went through a series of violent outbursts, smashing his TV set up, blocking his toilet and ripping his clothes. He would later say that the
evil spirits inside of him had emerged, hissing and screaming as they retched from his mouth, following which he finally found God again. He has served his time, locked in his 10 foot by 6 foot
room in the Attica Correctional facility, in Buffalo, New York. Accepting little in the way of psychological counselling, Chapman is able to review his own life and the crime he committed, claiming
that by the time he had served six years the demons that tortured him had finally left.

In October 2000, nearly 20 years after his imprisonment, Chapman was refused parole for the first time. At the hearing he read the following statement:

In October 2002, Chapman was again refused parole; coincidentally the parole board sat on what would have been John Lennon’s 62nd birthday. At a point when many offenders
are released – after 22 years behind bars – the parole board acknowledged Chapman’s exemplary prison record but proposed that his release would “depreciate the
seriousness” of the crime.

At the time of writing, October 2004, Chapman has again been denied parole on what is his third attempt and his 24th year behind bars. No further comment or justification was issued by the board
on this occasion.

Chapman committed a callous murder and deserved the severest of penalties, yet the question remains, would he have been back out by now if his victim had been a truck driver and not one of New
York’s most famous residents?