The Psychopath Whisperer: The Science of Those Without Conscience (27 page)

As we approached the rear door of the medical wing, Dominic pulled out a large brass key to unlock the door. It was nearly identical to the key I had used back in the prison in Canada. We exited the medical wing and stepped out into the bright sunshine; the door led to a fenced-in area just inside the perimeter fencing. Dominic pointed to the sally port and said we would bring the mobile MRI in through that entrance and then around the back of the medical wing and park it here on a concrete pad that he would have built.

The mobile MRI needs both a concrete pad to rest on and an electrical connection. The electrical connection is made through an umbilical cable that drops out of the belly compartment of the
mobile MRI trailer. I showed Dominic schematics of the umbilical cable and the concrete pad dimensions.

As we finished our tour, Dominic asked if he could get a picture of his brain when the mobile MRI arrived. “Of course,” I told him. “I’m happy to take a quick peek for you.” Over lunch Dominic confessed that he too had played football in high school; he wanted to make sure everything was okay.

The last component of my recruitment was interviewing with the faculty at the Department of Psychology at the University of New Mexico. I prepped a new lecture to highlight the development of my paralimbic dysfunction model of psychopathy. I agonized over the tempo and tone of the lecture. I started with the problems psychopaths pose for society, then focused on the latest science, and then on the potential impact this research might have on society. I called it my hourglass talk—it started big, got narrow, then finished with the big-picture implications for society.

The psychology department voted to offer me a faculty position. In parallel, Vince interviewed in the electrical engineering department at UNM. As I remember, he got a unanimous vote from the faculty to hire him.

Vince and I then got together and reviewed our offers. We had been working together for nearly a decade and had developed a close friendship. The Mind Institute and the University of New Mexico had exceeded our expectations. Our
say no
offers had been met. Vince extended his hand and I shook it firmly.

“I’m all in,” he told me.

“I call,” I answered.

Neither of us was looking forward to the next step, the onerous job of telling our close friends and colleagues in Connecticut that we were leaving.

My meeting with Hank was difficult. Hank had become a surrogate father to me, since my own father had passed away while I was in college. Hank and I had climbed mountains together. Literally. We had climbed Mount Whitney together one year and Mount Shasta the next, and we had become extremely close. I knew my recruitment
would hit him hard. But in the end I was less emotionally prepared than he was.

As I explained the offer I had received to Hank, I broke down.

Ever the consummate professional, Hank told me that he understood my decision. In fact, he insisted that I
had
to take the offer. He told me to knock off the sadness and let’s celebrate this new chapter in my life. And who knows, he added, perhaps some day I would return to Connecticut.

I had made my decision. Now I only hoped I could partially duplicate some day the kind of thriving research environment that Hank had created at the IOL.

Three days after I returned to Connecticut, Dominic, the head facility director at Western New Mexico Correctional Facility, called to tell me that the mobile MRI pad and electrical connection were ready to go.

“I had the inmates build the concrete pad and dig the road along the back of the medical wing. The electrician was able to trench out the connection. So we are all set.”

Dominic must have missed the conversation with the warden about the fact that the mobile MRI hadn’t been designed or built yet. Dominic was unfazed when I explained; he just said he wanted to be first in line for an MRI once the system was deployed.

Next, I contacted Siemens, General Electric, and Phillips. I had the sales reps all arrive at the same time to discuss the mobile MRI options for their equipment.

Siemens promised to put the fastest MRI scanner in their product line in a mobile trailer. Siemens had never put their superfast scanner in a trailer before. We worked out a deal that included the most rigorous compliance testing possible. Siemens guaranteed that the system would meet all my specifications—or it would be free. I was impressed. They had a lot of confidence in their engineering. It was one of the simplest decisions I would ever make. Siemens was a go.

Siemens directed me to the three companies that make mobile
MRI trailers in North America. I flew to Chicago and then to Los Angeles to interview with two company executives who were willing to develop the world’s first mobile functional MRI system. My final stop was Medical Coaches Inc. in upstate New York in the little town of Oneonta.

I drove up to Medical Coaches with a couple of my postdocs from New Haven. We met Chief Operations Officer Len Marsh and the vice president of engineering, Dick Mattice, at the Brooks House of Bar-B-Qs for lunch. Marsh and Mattice spent the lunch describing the manufacturing process they followed to meet Siemens’s specifications. They exclusively built for Siemens to the German standards for the MRI trailer. Medical Coaches was the best.

I provided Medical Coaches with my sketches, and we agreed to apply for a patent together on the changes we would design into the trailer. We broke down the trailer from the ground up and reconstituted it with special features that would enable installation of the special hardware required for high-speed functional brain imaging. I incorporated changes based on all my experiences designing two other MRI rooms and added all the bells and whistles a researcher could ever need.

When we chose the location of the emergency quench button, I could not help but notice that the large red button resembled the emergency call button from the prisons in Vancouver.

Dick Mattice wanted to install the button in the middle of the MRI room so that everyone could readily find it.

We needed the emergency quench button in case there was an accident where someone was in danger of being hurt while in the scanner, such as if a metal object in the room flew into the magnet. The magnetic field of the MRI is always on; this button would effectively turn it off. It’s a last-resort safety measure. Pressing the quench button would collapse the superconductive magnet. But pressing the button can ruin a $2,000,000 magnet. And even if it does not ruin the MRI’s magnetic field, it typically costs about $100,000 just to replace all the liquid helium that is vented. The button would have been irresistible to Shock Richie.

I explained to Mattice that we would be scanning inmates like Shock Richie, and that putting the button there was just asking for it
to be pushed. So we agreed to put the button inside a special cabinet so that only trained personnel would be able to operate it.

Our design complete, the Medical Coach engineers sent the plans to manufacturing. I was kept up to speed with pictures via e-mail as the first mobile functional MRI system came to life.

Any parent will tell you that the teenage years are
particularly challenging. Scientists have shown that disruptive and antisocial behavior peaks in adolescence.
³
Indeed, getting in trouble during this period of development is normal. The majority of boys and a significant number of girls reported engaging in some sort of antisocial behavior during their teenage years. Fortunately, most delinquent behavior is limited to relatively minor acts, such as vandalism, alcohol and minor drug use, occasional fights, risky automobile driving behavior, and other mischief. However, a minority of youth have a trajectory of antisocial behavior that escalates into more severe, even violent, antisocial acts.

When we left Brian and Eric, both were thirteen years old and had just been sentenced to juvenile detention for multiple criminal offenses (see
Chapter 6
). Brian was convicted of burglary charges, and Eric was convicted of drug possession and intent to distribute, as well as numerous burglaries. Brian was sentenced in Illinois; Eric was incarcerated just across the border in Wisconsin.

Following a short stint in juvenile detention at age thirteen, Brian was placed in a boys’ group home for several months before transitioning back to his parents. Upon returning home, he tried to have anal sex with one of his younger brothers. Brian’s parents, shocked, believe he learned the behavior from other boys at the group home. However, they did not seek psychiatric or psychological treatment for Brian. His aberrant sexual behavior escalated in the next year when Brian coaxed a ten-year-old girl at a train station to sneak off and have sex with him. When Brian and the girl returned to the train station, the girl told her parents what happened. The girl’s parents took Brian home and discussed the incident with his parents. But both sets of parents decided to keep quiet about the event.

Brian continued his promiscuity, having sex with multiple partners. At one point a teenage girl came to the house with a baby claiming that it was Brian’s. The (grand)parents on both sides agreed the baby should be given up for adoption. During this period, Brian also had a sexual relationship with a much older married woman. He was arrested for stealing a watch that he planned to give to her.

As Brian started high school, he initially received above-average grades. However, his schoolwork declined after a couple semesters. He started drinking alcohol and smoking marijuana daily. The marijuana, he later said, helped to alleviate the headaches that continued to plague him.

Brian’s home life was chaotic. Brian’s father’s drinking problems continued and he lost his job again. The family was evicted from their home again for failing to pay the rent. Brian’s parents’ fighting escalated and led to a domestic battery charge against James, the father. Neighbors reported that the children had little to no adult supervision. Genevieve, Brian’s mother, became reclusive from neighbors and friends. She too had a drinking problem.

Brian’s pranks included pointing a realistic cap gun at little kids and watching as they ran for cover. The kids told their parents, and there was a panic that there might be a shooter in the neighborhood.
Brian was arrested by police at gunpoint and eventually charged with disorderly conduct.

Brian continued to commit burglaries, sometimes breaking into the same homes he had been caught burglarizing previously. He did not plan well, and he was caught with the stolen property a number of times. Judges’ sentences ranged from probation to several months in juvenile detention or boys’ homes, from which Brian would run away.

Other boys sexually assaulted Brian at these homes, and Brian was treated for anal warts and hemorrhoids.

When released, Brian was always sent home, where he quickly returned to burglarizing homes and businesses. One winter he was caught robbing a Kentucky Fried Chicken and sentenced to several months in juvenile detention.

Brian reported to a boys’ home supervisor that he was hitchhiking and was picked up by a man driving a large pickup truck with construction material in it. The man drove to a secluded location and forced Brian to perform oral sex on him. He then dropped Brian off at a gas station and drove off. Brian went in and bought a can of soda to rinse the ejaculate out of his mouth. Weeks later Brian would identify the man to the boys’ home supervisor from a picture in the newspaper when the man was arrested for similar crimes.

The family chaos and Brian’s criminal behavior led to a cycle of short-term incarceration and placement in various boys’ homes. His drug use and other behavioral problems escalated.

Brian attended three different high schools in as many years. He often attended school on day passes while incarcerated, returning by curfew each night. He did not participate in any school activities or group sports. Eventually, he dropped out of high school completely.

During his stints in group homes or juvenile detention, psychologists reported that Brian was quiet and did not get involved in any group activities or organizations. Some described him as sneaky and aggressive and stated that he had an oppositional and defiant attitude toward adults and authority figures. Brian did not make friends easily, and he preferred to be alone. Subsequent counselor interviews reported that Brian had “poor affect” and judgment and was irresponsible
and goalless. Nevertheless, his IQ tested at or above 122, placing him in the superior range.

At age seventeen Brian was released again into the custody of his parents. Within a few weeks he had a serious fight with this mother, who kicked him out of the home. On the streets, Brian survived by committing burglaries for money. He moved in with an older girl for several months. The relationship soured and he went on the road, vagabonding from state to state. He was arrested in Iowa for a burglary and served several months in juvenile detention. But three meals a day and a warm bed were a welcome change from living in his car.