Did You See Melody?

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Did You See Melody? Page 22

by Sophie Hannah


  Still, I can’t stop. I take a ragged breath and say, ‘I mean, they care about themselves, sure, but not about the family as a whole – or else they wouldn’t be so keen for me to get rid of the newest member of it, this new baby. That’s how I ended up in Arizona alone. I couldn’t look at them, couldn’t risk opening my mouth in their presence in case I started screaming things at them that I could never take back. So, I upped and left, treated myself to a holiday in Arizona. Do you feel you know me better now? Are we friends? Do I sound to you like someone who deserves to have a life, as much as Melody Chapa does?’

  He turns his head away at the mention of her name, as if I’ve said something offensive.

  For minutes, he doesn’t speak. Then he reaches for the computer, saying, ‘I want you to see this video.’

  He mentioned a video before. And he brought the book …

  For some reason, there are things he wants me to know, or to believe. So that I’ll think well of him when he finally releases me, or so that I’ll think well of him before I die? If I withhold my good opinion and make it clear I’m still unconvinced, will I live longer?

  I concentrate all my energy on not punching him in the head while he taps on the keyboard.

  ‘Here we go,’ he says.

  It’s on YouTube: a woman and a man on a stage with dusty wooden floorboards. Black shiny material behind them on all sides. The man’s sitting on a high-backed wooden chair, facing the camera, wearing a checked shirt and brown corduroy trousers. Bald on top, metal-rimmed square glasses, tufts of brown hair on the sides of his head. A beard that’s brown at the sides, auburn in the middle. He looks about fifty. Olly would say he looks like a nerd.

  The woman’s short – not much taller than the chair the man’s sitting on – with wavy, golden-brown hair in a ponytail. She also looks to be in her late forties, early fifties. Her face, particularly her mouth, makes me think of a duck. She’s walking slowly around the man. In her hand is a paintbrush with green paint on its tip. After circling him twice, she stops, stares at the camera and says, ‘The great image has no form.’

  The man, also straight to camera, repeats the line: ‘The great image has no form.’

  ‘Everything is a continuum,’ says the woman.

  ‘There are no objects, only non-objects,’ says the man.

  Her: ‘Art cannot be separated from reality.’

  Him: ‘Art is not a representation of reality.’

  Both of them together: ‘Art is reality and reality is art.’

  The woman uses her brush to paint the word ‘The’ on the man’s forehead, then passes it to him. He gets up out of his chair, revealing himself to be considerably taller than her. Then he bends down and paints something on the stage. When he straightens up and stands back, the camera angle shifts to show what he’s painted on the floorboards: ‘great image has no’.

  The woman steps forward, and the man paints the word ‘form’ on her forehead. They hold hands and bow.

  That’s it: clip over.

  ‘Kristie and Jeff Reville?’ I ask. ‘I read online that he’s an art teacher and she’s an artist.’

  ‘Yeah, that was Jeff and Kristie. I wanted you to see that. So you’d know.’

  ‘Know what?’

  ‘That they could never hurt anyone. They’re good people. Some of the best.’

  Did he watch a different clip from the one I saw? To me the Revilles seemed deranged. Anyone who makes a video of themselves painting green words on each other’s foreheads … that doesn’t say normal to me.

  Also, when the person vouching for you is a man who kidnaps women and holds them at gunpoint …

  ‘Was it one of them who wrote the book, the Melody book? Jeff or Kristie?’

  ‘Why do you think that?’

  ‘I notice you’re not saying, “Of course not. Melody wrote the book.” I can’t think who else it could be apart from Kristie or Jeff Reville. I doubt it was you, and it’s hardly going to be Annette and Naldo Chapa. The bit I’ve read so far doesn’t show them in a good light.’

  ‘Cara, Cara.’ He exhales slowly. ‘When it comes to those two, there is no good light. If you doubt they deserve to be where they are, then I’ve got something else you need to see.’

  ‘However terrible they were as parents, if Melody’s alive, they shouldn’t be serving life sentences for her murder.’

  He’s reaching for the laptop again. ‘See what you think once you’ve watched this. You’ll see Annette and Naldo didn’t lose any sleep over their missing daughter. Not a wink.’

  JUSTICE WITH BONNIE (August 27, 2012)

  BJ: Welcome back to the show. We have with us in the studio computer forensics analyst Dr Lucie Story. Welcome, Lucie.

  LS: Thanks so much, Bonnie. It’s great to be here. I’m the biggest fan of the show.

  BJ: That’s so sweet of you. Well, we do our best here on Justice With Bonnie to help deliver justice to victims and their families. Although, in this case, as you probably know, this show believes that the family of little Melody – her parents Annette and Naldo Chapa – are the guilty parties.

  LS: Bonnie, after what I’ve seen first-hand, I can’t disagree with you, though obviously that’s for a jury to decide at some point in the future.

  BJ: I only wish I had the faith in juries that I once had. But, Lucie, you’re here today to tell us what you found when you did a forensic analysis of Annette Chapa’s online activity during the period between when Melody went missing and when Annette and Naldo Chapa were charged with her murder. You performed this analysis yourself, didn’t you?

  LS: Yes, I did, at the request of the Philadelphia police.

  BJ: And what did you find?

  LS: Melody disappeared and was reported missing on March 2, 2010. At first, as I’m sure most people are aware, the suspicions of the investigating detectives were focused on the next-door neighbors, Jeff and Kristie Reville. The first time there was any indication of suspicion in the direction of Annette and Naldo was March 22, when you said unambiguously on this show that you suspected them, Bonnie.

  BJ: That’s right. I’m proud to say that I wasn’t afraid to speak up when everybody else was either too stupid or too scared to put their necks on the line. I could see it straight away: those parents knew where their daughter was because they’d put her there. But tell our viewers at home, Lucie – how is that date, March 22, relevant to what you found when you examined Annette Chapa’s laptop?

  LS: Okay, here’s the thing: between March 2 when Melody disappeared and March 22, when you said live on this show that you believed Annette and Naldo Chapa were responsible for their daughter’s disappearance, there was a pattern to Annette Chapa’s internet use.

  BJ: And the relevant issue here is the times at which she used the internet, not so much what sites she visited, correct?

  LS: Yes. Though later, the sites she visited become relevant – but I’ll come to that in due course. So during that period – March 2 to March 22 – Annette Chapa didn’t work. She was at home, focused only on finding Melody, according to her. Finding—

  BJ: Finding her dead, not alive. She seemed convinced little Melody was dead.

  LS: Exactly what I was about to say. Finding her body, and her killer – and we have that from Annette’s own mouth. So, during this period – March 2 to March 22 – Annette was online not constantly but regularly. With reasonable frequency all day and evening. Then, at around eleven, eleven thirty at night, that’d be it – no more online activity. And then she’d be offline until around eight, eight thirty the next morning.

  BJ: And so a reasonable person would assume …?

  LS: That she was asleep.

  BJ: Sure. I mean, who wouldn’t get an unbroken nine hours’ sleep a night immediately after their daughter got abducted, right?

  LS: I suppose Annette Chapa might not have been asleep throughout those nights. I mean, she might have been lying awake sobbing for all we know. And I can’t comment on the psychology of it, Bonni
e – that’s not my area of expertise. I know Ingrid Allwood has said that misery, anxiety, depression – these things can lead a person to take refuge in sleep, and even, in some cases, bring on a sort of narcolepsy – that’s assuming Annette Chapa was asleep …

  BJ: At this point, I’m not willing to dignify any more of Allwood’s nonsense with a response. But let me ask you this: did you check the pattern of Annette Chapa’s online activity before March 2, 2010?

  LS: Yes, I did. Pretty much the same, though obviously Annette was working right up until the day Melody disappeared, and her online activity reflected that. But the pattern in the evenings was the same. Eleven, eleven thirty, it looks as if she logged off and went to sleep.

  BJ: And then no more online activity at all until eight, eight thirty the next morning?

  LS: No, when she was working she woke up earlier. Her first log-on was typically six thirty, seven.

  BJ: Which makes sense if she had to go into the office. But, Lucie, you agree with me that 11.30 p.m. to 7 a.m., changing to 11.30 p.m. to 8 a.m. after Melody disappeared – we’re not seeing a radical upheaval to her routine here, are we?

  LS: No. It’s more or less the same.

  BJ: Which is why a certain celebrity psychotherapist is talking out of her rear end. Whatever misery or depression Annette Chapa suffered after Melody disappeared, it didn’t cause her to sleep all that much more than usual – only an extra hour or so in the morning, and that was clearly down to not needing to get to the office. She sure had herself some great lie-ins after murdering her daughter! I’d love to ask Ms Allwood – I refuse to call her ‘Doctor’ – if she’s ever before come across a mother whose beloved child goes missing and it barely affects her sleep patterns at all.

  LS: Bonnie, I’m not pretending to claim that I know the hours Annette Chapa slept or stayed awake in March 2010. The evidence I’ve gathered shows only when she was on and offline.

  BJ: I understand that, and people will draw the only conclusion that’s plausible: that Annette Chapa did not lose any sleep over her missing daughter. On the contrary, she got an extra hour of sleep every day thereafter. Now, tell us what changes after March 22, in regard to Annette’s internet use?

  LS: From March 22, the pattern completely changes, Bonnie. I assume Annette must have grabbed a half-hour of sleep here and there, but from March 22 onwards, there are no long eight- or nine-hour stretches when she was offline. And when I say none, I mean it: none.

  BJ: That is truly fascinating, isn’t it?

  LS: It really is. There’s not much of a pattern at all after March 22. Some nights internet activity would stop at around 2 or 3 a.m., other nights it’d stop at 4 or 5. Once stopped, it might start again an hour and a half or three hours later. But what can be said with certainty is that, after March 22, Annette Chapa did not get another proper night’s sleep. And it’s particularly noteworthy that, March 22 through March 25, she seems to have got no sleep at all.

  BJ: She was on the internet, all night?

  LS: It appears so, yes.

  BJ: All right, so let me get this straight: Melody’s disappearance didn’t keep her mom awake nights, but it seems me saying live on air that I thought she was guilty as sin … did? Is that a reasonable conclusion to draw?

  LS: Well … certainly when I looked at Annette Chapa’s internet activity between March 22 and March 25, I found that a lot of it was focused around you. In layman’s terms, she thoroughly checked you out.

  BJ: And I guess that’s not surprising. If someone went on America’s favorite legal show and accused me of first-degree murder, I’d do a whole lot more than check them out. What’s more surprising is what happened between March 22 and September 28, 2010, when Annette and Naldo Chapa were finally – thank the Lord in his mercy! – charged with little Melody’s murder. Tell us about that.

  LS: As I’ve said already, Annette Chapa did not get a solid night’s sleep after March 22.

  BJ: So that’s six months of no proper sleep. That’s incredible! And also horribly telling, in my opinion. Look, I spoke up on March 22, sure, but no one listened. No one wanted to listen. The whole world was convinced Kristie and Jeff Reville had abducted and killed poor Melody, and that I was wrong and dumb and vindictive to insist otherwise. The evidence, back then, seemed to point to the Revilles, and that didn’t change until September 2, when I had Mallory Tondini on the show. So why on earth didn’t Annette Chapa calm down, around early April, say, and think to herself, ‘Looks like no one’s paying attention to that horrible Juno woman – I don’t need to worry about her’? Why didn’t she start sleeping again round about then?

  LS: Obviously I can’t answer that, Bonnie. I don’t know what was going through her mind. I can tell you, though, that in her shoes, I’d have been petrified if I thought you suspected me of murder, and I don’t think that fear’d be easy to lose. Everyone knows you’re tenacious, that you care passionately about justice and you’re unlikely to give up. Also, that your specialty – and this show’s specialty – is cases where the wrong person falls under suspicion while the right one’s ignored.

  BJ: It’s true that I can’t abide detectives and DAs who take one look at a case and decide to play Pin-the-Guilt-on-the-Patsy … Well, there we have it, ladies and gentlemen: when it was only an insignificant little irritation like a missing daughter who might be dead, Annette Chapa still managed to get her regular eight or nine hours’ sleep every night. The moment she perceived her own wellbeing was at stake – that I suspected her and would do whatever I could to bring her to justice – suddenly she doesn’t sleep so good any more, poor little lamb.

  LS: I suppose it’s possible to be a selfish, unloving mother and still not be a murderer, but—

  BJ: Oh, please!

  LS: You know, Bonnie, I hope I’m not speaking out of turn, but I feel a little uncomfortable about the forthcoming trial and the charge of murder specifically, when no body has been found. I wanted to ask you—

  BJ: No body, but plenty of blood, Lucie, and strands of little Melody’s hair showing clearly that she was poisoned with arsenic while alive, and what’s known as coffin flies in two locations where Melody’s blood was also found – the kind of flies you only get where there’s a dead body. That’s why, even without a body or a crime scene or eye-witnesses, a grand jury made the decision it did: to put Annette and Naldo Chapa on trial for murder. It’s only a shame the death penalty was taken off the table. Thank you, computer forensics analyst Dr Lucie Story, for joining us. And we’re back after the break, when we’ll be joined by Naldo Chapa’s former assistant, Julie Smithfield. We’ll hear what it was like to work closely with Melody’s father, and I’ll be asking Miss Smithfield how she feels about Chapa’s imminent trial for the murder of his daughter, and whether she can shed any light on the character of his wife and the nature of their marriage and family life.

  October 14, 2017

  So Swallowtail, in addition to all its other assets, had a maze. Only a small one, Priddey had been told by Dane Williamson, but popular with guests nonetheless. It was known as the Meditation Maze on account of the guided meditation walks that took place within it on Tuesday and Thursday evenings and Sunday mornings.

  ‘Don’t worry about reaching the butterfly,’ Williamson had said with a grin as he’d waved off Priddey’s club car. ‘It’s not the destination that counts. It’s all about the journey.’

  Priddey had been on that journey, on foot, for nearly forty minutes, looking for Tarin Fry. No chauffeur-driven club cars in the maze, sadly. The green passageways were too narrow. Each one looked identical to the others. Every corner seemed to whisper, ‘Try me, try me. You haven’t before. I might be the one.’ Priddey had discovered that the more a corner looked like a rock-solid option, the more likely it was to lead to a dead end. None of the bristly slabs of hedge had any distinguishing features. Wherever he was in the grid of green, the sun beat down on him. If he’d known he was going to be stuck in here this long, he’d have brought a
hat.

  What the fuck was the point of a maze? And what did people do who never chanced upon the right route? Statistically it stood to reason that that would occasionally happen. How did they get back? Once you’d found the center of the maze, was that it: ordeal over? Was there a quick way out? Priddey wished he’d asked Dane Williamson some or all of these questions before setting out.

  As he walked, he called out Tarin Fry’s name and Cara Burrows’ also. A maze would be the perfect place to hide out, as long as you had weather-proof clothing and supplies of food and water. If you heard footsteps getting nearer, you could easily move off in a different direction.

  Priddey hadn’t told Williamson why he wanted to check out the maze. He wasn’t normally secretive, but with Bonnie Juno and her crew hanging around, he felt inclined to keep things to himself for as long he could. Truth be told, he didn’t want anyone to know what he was doing until he himself knew. Did he care that Zellie Fry thought he was a jerk? Or was it that this wanting to know – about Melody, about Cara Burrows, about Riyonna Briggs – was contagious? If so, where did that leave the resolution he’d made eight months ago? If it was work, he wasn’t supposed to care.

  He sure as hell didn’t care for being lost in a maze with only the word of a Swallowtail maid to go on. She said she’d seen Tarin Fry at the entrance to the maze an hour ago. The rest of her story was verging on the incredible.

  After another ten minutes, Priddey decided to stop telling himself that any left or right turn in the distance looked promising.

 

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