About eleven o’clock, the agent called back and reported that Scott knew he was being watched. At one point, he disappeared into an alley. As she pulled away from the curb in an attempt to locate him, she saw him at the corner, watching her. As she drove by, he smiled at her and shook his head. He also went up to a surveillance vehicle, asking the driver, “What agency are you with? Are you state or local?” He was obviously writing down the vehicle license plate numbers as well. Eventually Scott returned to the residence, but agents discontinued their surveillance around 5:30 when they realized that he’d slipped away again, this time possibly by motorcycle.
Meanwhile, police learned that usable DNA samples had been extracted from the bone and tissue recovered from both bodies, and results could be expected the following day. Based on that information, Detective Grogan was finally able to obtain an arrest warrant for Scott Peterson.
Now, all he needed was his suspect.
During my interview with Anne Bird, she revealed that she was the one who alerted Scott to the discovery of the bodies. She was en route to the Round Table pizza parlor in San Pablo with her kids when her husband, Tim, called with the news. Anne immediately dialed Scott to see if he knew. When she told him that the body of a woman had washed up, he reacted coolly. “They’ll find it’s not LCI and keep looking,” she said. Later, when she told him about the baby, though, he grew very angry. “How could anyone do this?” he asked. Later, when prosecutors asked Anne to characterize Scott’s reaction—did his anger seem to come from pain, frustration, pure rage?—she responded without hesitation that his anger seemed a result of being “discovered.”
Interestingly, Scott had stayed with Anne for about ten days be-fore the bodies washed up. She also supplied him with a key to her parents’ house in San Diego, and to their three-story “cabin” in Lake Arrowhead. Anne found out later that Scott was using both places regularly without asking. Sometimes he let her know where he was by speaking in code. “I’m at Uncle Jim’s cabin,” he would say, or “it’s busy,” meaning that someone else was there with him.
Unbeknownst to the media, prosecutors intended to call Anne to testify, among other things, about Scott’s visits and his revelation that he had “borrowed a shovel” from the cabin that he never re-turned. He never explained to Anne why he needed the shovel. But she knows that he also had access to a “secret room” in the basement of the Lake Arrowhead house, where a hidden door set flush with the wall led to a storage space and woodpile. Anne, who alerted Scott to the room when he needed to build a fire in the cabin, told me that she never looked in the “secret space” after Scott stayed there, but thought it a good spot to bury something, like jewelry.
During our interview, Anne also detailed her brother’s stay with her family. When he first arrived, she was convinced of his innocence and was angry with police and Sharon Rocha for insinuating otherwise. She told me he started out as a great houseguest. One night, Scott insisted on making homemade spaghetti sauce after she pulled out a canned version. “Why are you using that?” he said. “I know how to make homemade sauce. It’s easy, you just crush tomatoes.” With that, he grabbed the car keys and headed to the store for fresh ingredients. Though Anne was pleased at his helpfulness, she was also curious about his high spirits during such a tragic time. Her story recalled Scott’s odd behavior on Christmas Day, when he invited his neighbor Karen Servas to dinner, offering to prepare her a separate meal of tortellini less than twenty-four hours after LCI went missing.
During the visit, however, Anne grew increasingly uncomfortable with her brother’s behavior and began keeping notes. While searching for LCI, Anne and two male friends took Scott to a local bar called the Ballast Pub. When one of the men asked Scott if he killed his wife, he responded, “No, I loved my wife,” speaking of LCI in the past tense. When Anne and Scott paired up for a game of pool, she said, he remembered him getting angry when they lost the game.
Later that night, after speaking with Scott at their house, one of Anne’s friends decided he was guilty. Scott had made a big fuss over one of the men’s cars, a Ferrari, and was drinking heavily—mixed drinks, wine, and fancy concoctions in a martini glass. Another time, Anne and Scott were at the local yacht club. Anne’s mother was babysitting and had insisted that she be home by 9:30 P.M. She kept trying to get Scott to leave, but he ignored her pleas and continued to order drinks. “He was being totally inconsiderate,” she recalled.
All those subtle signs of trouble were eclipsed, however, when those bodies washed up close to her Berkeley home.
The following day, April 18, Sergeant Carter and Detectives Buehler, Grogan, and Brocchini drove to San Diego in unmarked vehicles to assist in Scott’s arrest. Arriving at 4:00 A.M., they checked into the Best Western Escondido Motel. Even though they had a signed warrant, they wanted to wait for the DNA results before attempting an arrest. Once Scott was located, he would simply be watched pending those results, unless he headed for the Mexican border.
Brocchini remained in contact with surveillance agents, as well as the “wire room,” where calls were tracked. Ernie Limon of the Department of Justice had picked up their suspect early that morning leaving 377 Lytham Glen in Escondido in a dark red 1984 Mercedes-Benz. He lost him briefly, but with air support had him back in sight. Scott seemed to know he was being trailed, and was driving in a manner commonly referred to as counter-surveillance. He got onto the freeway, immediately got off, then abruptly reentered once again. Agents noted he was talking on his cell phone at the time.
While driving in the high-speed lane of the freeway, Scott suddenly pulled over to the shoulder lane and stopped momentarily, al-most causing a collision with members of the DOJ team. Scott then continued northbound into the city of Solano Beach, where his parents lived. He continued driving erratically through the residential area of Rancho Santa Fe, traveling on roads that were lined with leafy trees that created a canopy and shielded the Mercedes-Benz from the air. He drove near his parents’ residence but never turned on their street. He made sudden stops and U-turns, and drove at a high rate of speed through the hills. At one point, agents saw him display his middle finger as he drove by.
As he raced along, Scott called his brother, Joe. He said he couldn’t join Joe at the golf course that morning because he was being followed by “private investigators.” He explained that he’d lost them and then “another set got him.”
“Where are you at? Are you—well, I don’t want to ask you that, I guess.” Joe said.
“I’m on Genessee. These guys, they know I’m on to them,” Scott said. He told Joe he’d stopped on the highway and they’d stopped be-hind him. “I think I’d better skip it because I don’t think I want a picture of me in the press playing golf.”
“I saw the picture where everybody is leaving flowers and stuffed animals and everything in front of your house,” Joe said.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” Joe confirmed. “Any indication when they may identify these bodies?”
“No.”
“There is so much hype out there it’s just insane.”
“Yeah, it’s bad.”
“I have also heard that they can identify them pretty darn quick, two to three days, you know,” Joe said.
“Yeah, they know it’s not her,” Scott replied.
“Yeah, that’s what I think. I think they know already or they are telling them to retest them, I don’t know.”
“Oh, I think they’re just holding off because they don’t know anymore,” Scott replied.
“Who it is—yeah, that could be, that could be.”
“Have fun, guys,” Scott said.
“Sorry, bro.”
“It’s not your fault. Thanks for the thought, though.”
Just before 8:00 A.M., agents chased Scott back onto the 1-5 Freeway northbound. Suddenly, he cut across four lanes of traffic and abruptly left the highway. The agents followed him off, then kept up with him when he reentered unexpectedly. They saw him cl
ap his hands, apparently applauding them for their efforts.
Scott’s game continued.
Just after eleven o’clock, the media was reporting that DNA results would soon confirm the bodies as those of LCI and Conner Peterson and that Scott Peterson’s arrest was imminent. Detectives now feared that these reports might cause Scott to attempt an escape. Furthermore, his continued erratic driving could endanger members of the DOJ team or the public.
“Stop and arrest him,” Grogan instructed Limon.
Limon and his team followed Scott west on Carmel Mountain Road and then south on South Camino del Mar, which becomes Torrey Pines Road. As they approached the Torrey Pines Golf Club, Limon switched on his flashing blue and red police lights. Scott immediately pulled over to the right. Officers wearing dark jackets with yellow letters identifying them as police jumped out of their vehicles and ordered Scott to turn off the ignition and get out of the car.
Scott was dressed in a blue sweater worn over a white polo shirt, white shorts, ankle high socks, and Nike tennis shoes. Dark sunglasses shaded his eyes. He wore no jewelry, not even a wedding ring. His hair, eyebrows, and beard were all dyed an orangey-blond color.
Scott offered no resistance as police handcuffed him. After asking what agency they were with, he followed with a second question: “Have they found my wife and son?”
One officer said someone would talk to him about that shortly and directed him to sit on the curb, away from public view.
“Do you know why you’re being detained and arrested?” Agent Limon asked.
Peterson replied, “Because of my erratic driving?”
That wasn’t the reason, he was told. Did he know of any other?
“Well, Modesto wants me about a murder.”
At 11:15, the Modesto investigators arrived at the scene. Scott was placed in the rear of a Ford Taurus station wagon that police had parked a short distance away. Detective Grogan placed a tape recorder on the seat, stating the date and time: April 18, 2003, 1135-1136 hours. He formally notified Scott that, pursuant to a warrant, he was under arrest for the crime of murder. He asked Scott if he had any questions. Scott said no.
As Scott and Grogan were transported to a DOJ office, a tape recorder captured their conversation. Grogan asked who should he notified about picking up the Mercedes-Benz after it was searched. While there was a certificate of title and other documentation in the car, it had not been registered in anyone’s name. This prevented po-lice from simply checking the license plate to locate the owner. A double-edged knife in a case was found along the left side of the driver’s seat, along with a driver’s license issued to Scott’s brother John. Scott’s newly lightened hair was a close match to John’s photo on his license.
During a more thorough search of the Mercedes-Benz over a three-day period, police found the following: U.S. currency totaling $14,932, with $14,000 in $100 bills still wrapped in paper bands from the bank; three credit cards, two in Scott’s name, and one in the name of his half sister, Anne Bird; a Columbia foul-weather jacket; a hand shovel; a backpack containing a water purifier, water bottle, climbing rope, filet knife, roll of duct tape, cooking grill, rain pants, Ziploc bags, extra socks, fire starters, camp kit with cooking utensils, leather gloves, two folding knives, a folding saw one pair of scissors, two packs of razor blades, and a waterproofing spray; a camp axe, hammock, binoculars, mask and snorkel, fishing rod and reel, and a Leatherman tool. Twelve pairs of shoes ranging from flip-flops to waterproof boots to dress shoes, and an entire wardrobe including numerous pants, shirts, jackets, underwear, socks, neckties and sweaters, and a cowboy hat were all packed into the car. Sixteen music CDs and two California guidebooks, twenty-four blister packs of sleeping pills, twelve tablets of Viagra, four cell phones, a gas credit card in his mother’s name, and a quantity of Mexican currency were also found.
As many observed after the arrest, it was evident that Scott was going somewhere for quite a while. One destination might have been the nearby Mexican border, and he was familiar with that country. His supporters would argue he was simply trying to hide out from the press for a while, but as I pointed out at the time, Scott’s friends and relatives had kept him concealed from the cameras in their homes for some time. The items in the car indicated to me that Scott had packed for more than a camping trip.
At 12:05, Scott was brought into a large training room in the DOJ office. He complained that his shoulders ached from having his hands cuffed behind him and asked if they could be loosened. Grogan left the room and returned with a waist chain and cuffs. He read Scott his constitutional rights. Scott nodded his head, affirming that he understood, but said nothing.
Grogan then told Scott that he could be booked into San Diego County or, if he waived the right, in Stanislaus County. Scott said he wanted to speak with his attorney before answering. He also wanted to use the telephone. Grogan informed him that he could make three calls, but first he had to be photographed.
When Scott was given a phone, he immediately dialed his attorney but was only able to leave a voice mail message. Next he called his mother and told her he had been arrested. His third call, bizarrely, was to Heather and Mike Richardson. “Hey, this is Scott, I just wanted to make sure I returned your call,” Scott reportedly said. “I made you some lavender cookies, that is what I was going to send, but I got arrested a couple of hours ago so I have to go.”
Heather later reported that Scott had called the day before to get her mailing address so he could send the cookies. LCI used to bake them regularly, using dried lavender flower petals. She also recounted her call to Scott on April 16 to see “how he was doing.” The bodies had been recovered by that time, and she wanted to hear what Scott might say about the discovery. But she didn’t ask about the bodies, and, amazingly, Scott didn’t mention them either. Instead, he talked of traveling to Arizona and New Mexico to post fliers about Laci’s disappearance.
By this time, there were more signs that Scott Peterson was experiencing serious psychological dysfunction. Scott would not be examined, and psychiatric testimony would not be permitted during the trial, but there was increasing public conversation about Scott’s flat affect and arguably inappropriate responses to unfolding events. Months after Laci’s brother had actually confronted Scott about his behavior calling him a sociopath, that description would resonate publicly as people learned more about the seemingly charming young man’s psyche.
Scott asked police if he could make “one more call.” When Grogan asked who he wanted to contact, he said, “his work,” to tell them he wouldn’t be coming in. Grogan told him he would have the opportunity to make that call later.
Detective Grogan left the room for a few minutes. DOJ Agent Charles Willkomm remained with their charge. Suddenly Scott, who was still wearing sunglasses, turned to him and said, “I want to apologize for the way I was driving this morning. I didn’t know who you guys were.”
“Thank you . . . but I wasn’t with the team that followed you,” Willkomm replied.
“Oh,” Scott said. “Okay. I just wanted to apologize.”
The conversation rambled for a while. Then, looking at his watch, Scott noted, “I was supposed to take my niece to the movies in a couple of hours today.” He paused, then added, “Well, maybe in a couple of weeks I’ll be able to do that.”
Willkomm would record that Scott “did not seem worried or overly concerned that he had been arrested. . . . Peterson’s demeanor was calm, devoid of grief, concern, or anger. Most of the time, Peterson displayed a distant stare toward the wall across from where he sat and occasionally smiled while talking to me.”
Late that afternoon, Scott was placed in leg irons and waist chains in addition to the handcuffs. Detectives Grogan and Buehler then put him in a car for the ride to the Stanislaus County Jail. The vehicle was wired with transmitters in the trunk to record any conversation. Brocchini and Carter followed in a separate car, monitoring those transmissions.
At 5:20, as they were driving
back to Modesto, Grogan received a call informing him that the DNA results were complete. Jane Doe had been identified as LCI Peterson, and Baby Doe was indeed Scott’s biological child. Investigators had compared DNA from the muscle and bone samples from the autopsy to DNA from Laci’s mother and father, Sharon and Dennis Rocha. They had also taken eight hairs from a brush that had belonged to LCI, as well as a pap smear they obtained from her gynecologist. They also had a blood sample from Scott Peterson, which they used to identify the fetus. The law required that the next of kin be notified. Scott Peterson was that person.
Because of the highway noise and the concern that it would mask any response Scott made upon hearing the news, Grogan opted to postpone the notification. At 6:50 P.M., the detective told Scott that the bodies found in the San Francisco Bay had been identified as LCI and Conner through a DNA match. Pulling the sunglasses from his eyes, he bowed his head. Grogan saw a tear run down the side of his face. Scott wiped it away, and closed his eyes. He put his sunglasses back on, his eyes still shut. He did not utter a sound, but Grogan saw no more tears. Fifteen minutes later, Buehler asked Scott if he wanted any water or food. He declined.
At eight o’clock, the officers stopped at In & Out Burger in Bakersfield. By then, Scott was ready for a “double-double” cheeseburger, fries, and a vanilla shake. While seated in the car with Grogan, waiting for Brocchini and Carter to return with food, Scott commented on a woman carrying a small child wrapped in a blanket to the car parked in front of them. Scott remarked that the baby appeared to be only about a month old. After making the observation, he fell silent again.
Grogan had requested that Scott be booked in an undisclosed location to thwart media coverage, but en route to Modesto he learned that arrangements had been made for a single “pool camera” to be set up inside the gate at the jail. Scott would be booked there.
Just before midnight, the group pulled into the facility. Scott was escorted into the jail in full view of the camera. On the second floor, he was booked according to standard procedure and charged with two counts of 187 P.C.—murder in the first degree.
A Deadly Game Page 37