Jane Doe No More

by M. William Phelps

  Concurrent sentences. Not consecutive.

  When the SAO in Connecticut heard of Jones’s claim, a spokesperson for the office said, “That’s news to us. There is no specific deal that’s been made.”

  The SAO released a statement saying it was looking forward to having Regan back home and in court, where he faced the potential for one hundred years behind bars if convicted at trial.

  Alcohol addiction became a factor driving Regan’s defense now as he and his legal team headed into the Connecticut charges. Attorney Jones spoke of a client who was addicted to “drinking a fifth of liquor a day.” Jones called alcohol “the devil” that did “damage to John Regan.”

  What was interesting about the revelation that Regan was a chronic alcoholic was that on the day he tried abducting Lindsey, Regan had not been charged with DUI; he was as sober as a snake.

  “He was not drunk,” Chief Moore told reporters.

  In addition, Regan had refused a field sobriety test at the scene where he was arrested in Saratoga, saying he wouldn’t take it “unless my attorney is present.” Later that evening, at the Saratoga Police Department, Regan passed a breath-screening test.

  Here again was Regan shirking any responsibility for his crimes. Now it was alcohol driving him to commit such cowardly acts against women. And, inexplicably, he had many people fooled. Scores of letters of support for Regan from friends and family flooded into the Saratoga County Probation Department from Jones’s Troy, New York, office.

  Rocky Regan, although accused of and charged with some of the most vile crimes imaginable and an admitted kidnapper, was, according to those who knew him in Waterbury, a “gentle man” and a “very present and involved dad.” Regan’s wife chimed in, saying that she had “loved him since” she was a “young girl.” She said Regan had never “acted or tried to act in an inappropriate manner.” The “happiest day of” her “life” was the day she married John Regan in 1981 (the same year he had allegedly tried to force a woman to give him oral sex).

  Next his wife wrote about her husband’s “heavy drinking” and how it had destroyed their lives. But she had stuck with him then, just as she was doing now. Finally, Regan’s wife concluded that her husband was a “loving, caring human being who has done a lot of good on this planet.” She asked that he be “forgiven” for “his faults.”

  Each of the letters hit on this same “gentle giant” theme, with a routine ending that focused on Regan’s supposed alcohol problem and the treatment he needed for it.

  Denial was rampant back home in Waterbury. It was as if the demon inside John Regan, urging him to commit these egregious, heinous, and violent crimes against women, was not something any of his friends or family could fathom or face.

  Some family members blamed the media, saying Regan did not have a voice anymore, but that “the media’s characterization of him does not do justice to the man that he is . . .” It was “the system,” wrote one man related to Regan, that had “silenced John’s voice . . .”

  It appeared that nobody could make the connection between Regan being a serial offender and the same person they had known. It was a fact that his DNA had matched one victim and he had been caught in the act of another potentially serious crime. But nobody wanted to see it. Instead he was “a wonderful son” and a great “coach.” He had a “lifelong love” for his wife. Some said they’d have no trouble leaving Regan with their teenage daughters. He was not “capable of any crime.”

  Not one letter mentioned the victims of his crimes.

  If one were to read these letters, not knowing the crimes to which Regan had pleaded guilty, or of which he had been accused, one might think the man was being considered for canonization instead of incarceration.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  Showtime

  Dateline producer Sue Simpson called Waterbury Observer publisher John Murray to inquire about that lengthy story he had written. Simpson first contacted Murray back in December 2005, showing an interest in doing a story about John Regan. Basically, NBC was wanted to produce a full-length, hour-long Dateline on John Regan, with the narrative thrust of the show focused on Donna’s story. Obviously, the potential to interview a survivor like Donna—i.e., Rachael—and get her exclusive story on camera was something NBC knew could bring in big ratings.

  Simpson told Murray she had read the Observer stories online and was wondering if Murray could put her in touch with Rachael.

  John Murray said he’d make a call.

  During the conversation Donna had with Murray, she agreed to meet Simpson at the Observer offices in downtown Waterbury to discuss the possibility of appearing on Dateline. Donna was still on the fence about fully identifying herself on the show. Was it the right thing to do? The episode could not air until Regan’s court proceedings in Connecticut were fully adjudicated. Donna needed to be certain that NBC would wait until the entire case was closed—it would have to be a prerequisite. Donna also stipulated several requirements of the meeting in a letter of agreement she asked Simpson and NBC to sign beforehand.

  Susan Simpson, a representative from Dateline NBC, will be meeting with the victim of the 1993 rape case in Waterbury, Connecticut. The victim’s name will be referred to as “Jane Doe.” Jane has agreed to meet with Ms. Simpson for the purposes of exploring a potential segment to be featured on Dateline NBC sometime in the future. By signing this agreement, Ms. Simpson understands that anything Jane Doe says for the purposes of this initial meeting is totally off the record. None of what Jane Doe says shall be used in whole or in part by Susan Simpson, Dateline NBC, or any other media outlet without prior written consent by Jane Doe.

  Simpson’s signature on this agreement gave Donna a sense of security.

  So they met.

  Not once during that meeting, which lasted several hours, did Donna tell Simpson her real name. Simpson never knew—that is, until Simpson recognized Donna’s photograph in a full-page Observer ad for Donna’s business.

  At the conclusion of the meeting, Donna told Simpson she needed more time to think about it.

  By now, Donna had conceived of what she called the “Jane Doe No More” initiative. She was in the early stages of creating and developing a website dedicated to her story, including her goal to change the way law enforcement responded to sexual assault crime scenes, among other things, along with launching an online destination for victims of sexual assault who have been hiding behind a curtain of anonymity or too scared to come forward. Donna figured if she stepped out from behind the curtain and became Jane Doe no more, introducing herself to the world as Donna Palomba, it would serve as an example to victims afraid of reporting rape and sexual assault.

  Coming out to a national audience on Dateline certainly felt appealing. A marketer by profession, Donna knew that with NBC she could get the most bang for her interview. The problem she faced now was the adjudication of her case against John Regan. The SA was imploring Donna to step back and wait. John Murray used the word “muzzled” when referring to how the SAO had advised Donna regarding appearing on Dateline, adding how “unwise” it would be “to talk about her case before Regan went to trial.”

  My desire to come forward and make change was growing stronger. I could no longer keep my two worlds apart and they were beginning to collide. Once I make up my mind to do something, I like to get going. I used this time—between the Dateline interviews and Regan’s cases being fully adjudicated, to do a lot of heavy lifting in creating the not-for-profit Jane Doe No More, Inc., and the website, working with my attorney to file articles of incorporation, building the team, recruiting board members, and building content for the website.

  Donna and Sue Simpson stayed in touch, but the last thing Donna wanted to do was give Regan any more ammunition than he had already. Near the end of the summer, on August 31, 2006, as talks between Donna and Dateline remained in limbo
, Regan’s Connecticut charges heated back up. With his case in New York complete, prosecutors there were eager to release any evidence they could offer Connecticut to help prosecute him in Waterbury. Regan was facing three separate charges: 1981 (the woman he tried to force to give him oral sex inside his truck); 1993 (Donna’s alleged assault); and 2004 (the stalking and assault case brought by his coworker). As the summer came to an end, there was some talk that Regan would appear in Waterbury court to plead guilty to the 1981 case. But that case bogged down as negotiations centered on bundling the three cases together, with Regan pleading to all three to avoid three separate trials. September came to a close and a pretrial date was set for October 19.

  SA Connelly had explained to Donna that Regan’s attorneys were hoping to nail down a fifteen- to twenty-year plea bargain, if pleading was the route they chose. Twelve years, the SA confirmed, was “unacceptable,” if his attorneys thought they could begin at fifteen and slide the twelve by, much like they had in New York. Even twenty years for the three cases was light. But twenty plus the twelve (if the SAO could negotiate consecutive sentences) from New York, and Regan was looking at being an old man when—and if—he was ever released from prison.

  On Wednesday evening, October 18, Regan was transported from New York to Waterbury and held inside the WPD’s in-house jail. Word was that he would be brought into court the next day and served any new warrants to make it official.

  John and Donna got up early the next morning and were at the courthouse by ten o’clock, waiting for the proceedings to begin. Donna had been told that Regan’s former coworker would meet her there, so they could sit in solidarity together.

  Shackled and handcuffed, Regan was brought into the courtroom. It had been a year since he had stepped foot in Waterbury. He was balder, had put on more weight, and had a look like he wanted to get things over with and get his sentence so he could start working on that time ahead of him. He walked into the courtroom, his eyes on the floor, nodding to his attorneys—a yes here, a no there—ready and willing to plead his cases and serve his time.

  The proceeding was brief and, as expected, the cases were postponed until the following week, October 26.

  As Donna sat inside the courtroom listening to Regan’s case being discussed, she noticed Sue Simpson from Dateline sitting in the gallery. They “made eye contact” at one point, as Donna later wrote in her notes, and Simpson “signaled” that she wanted to meet with Donna and talk after the proceeding.

  “Hi,” Donna said softly, and then turned back around. Donna noticed at one point that Simpson was speaking to Regan’s attorney, no doubt asking him about appearing on the show and maybe even trying to convince him that Regan should also do the interview.

  Donna and John soon got up and walked out of the courtroom. There was nothing more for them to do here. Donna had no intention of speaking with Simpson, especially in public. She was having a difficult enough time with Regan being in town and was constantly worried, family and friends later said, that Regan would somehow escape and come after her. The meetings and discussions she had with NBC were supposed to be private. Donna had clearly spelled that out in the agreement Simpson and NBC had signed.

  As Donna walked out of the courthouse with John, Simpson made what Donna called a “beeline” for her, calling out, “Rachael . . . Rachael.”

  Simpson followed Donna and John as they walked toward the street.

  “Rachael,” Simpson said again, raising her voice.

  Donna ignored her.

  “Rachael . . .”

  Donna turned, looked back at the producer, and said, “No.”

  Donna and John had their say in court on October 26, 2006, which had become sentencing day for John Regan after he decided to plead guilty to two of the three cases (Donna’s and the coworker’s). That third case, from 1981, SA Connelly had explained to Donna and Regan’s former coworker, had to be dropped. Connelly never said exactly why, but the speculation was that with the woman unwilling to take it any further and the case built around a he said–she said argument, without her, the case would have fizzled. Why waste the court’s time and the taxpayer’s money on what would be a losing proposition.

  Unfortunately, on this day there would be nothing to celebrate by the time everyone left the courtroom. Regan pleaded under the Alford Doctrine, which gave him the opportunity not to admit any wrongdoing. The Alford Doctrine has been in American courts since 1970 (North Carolina v. Alford ). In that North Carolina case, according to the Supreme Court ruling: “An individual accused of crime may voluntarily, knowingly, and understandingly consent to the imposition of a prison sentence even if he is unwilling or unable to admit his participation in the acts constituting the crime . . . a defendant intelligently concludes that his interests require entry of a guilty plea and the record before the judge contains strong evidence of actual guilt.”

  Regan was saying he didn’t do it, but that he believed the SAO had enough evidence to prove he did. He had already finagled his way out of the 1981 case. Now, it seemed, he was worming his way out of Donna’s and his former coworker’s cases too. How appalling. How disheartening.

  I felt powerless over the situation. It was maddening to think that we had irrefutable DNA evidence proving that John Regan [was at the scene of the crime] and yet he could not be arrested for, or charged with, sexual assault. Makes no sense. I knew that he would likely have gotten forty years in my case alone had he been arrested for the crime of rape, which we all felt that he had committed. Ultimately, it wasn’t my call, and I was frustrated by the loopholes and conditions that protect predators and disregard victims.

  There was a brief interruption in the middle of the court proceedings when a fire alarm went off and the entire building was evacuated. Most everyone from the courtroom walked across the street to Library Park. As Donna and John stood with Maureen Norris, waiting to go back into the courtroom, she worried anxiously that Regan would somehow escape from custody, that maybe the alarm was a ploy of some sort to allow him to get away. It was frightening and disturbing, Maureen later described, to watch Donna continually victimized by Regan and his presence. This was what Donna as a sexual assault victim faced every day, not to mention the revictimization she had suffered at the hands of the WPD. All these years later, she still didn’t trust the WPD with Regan.

  When everyone was allowed back into the courtroom, Donna finally had her chance to speak, addressing Regan’s crimes publicly for the first time. To her credit, Donna Palomba took the high road and kept her comments brief, expressing herself strongly and eloquently: “Your honor, it is not for me to judge,” Donna said, her voice resolute, firm. “I believe John Regan’s ultimate fate will be decided upon by God. John Regan is a repeat offender. He is calculating and dangerous. And I pray that he never has the ability or the opportunity to harm another person for the rest of his life.”

  And that was that—Donna Palomba was finished.

  John Palomba, however, had a few more words than his wife for the man he had once thought of as one of his best friends. He started by calling Regan a “punk,” finishing that part of his statement with “coward.” He said Regan was a “disgrace to his family and friends.” There was genuine anger in John’s voice; it was clear that Regan had taken up way too much of John Palomba’s headspace over the years, and it was high time for Regan to hear his former friend’s voice ringing in his ears along that lonely road that lay ahead.

  “I urge you to make sure this creep,” John said, addressing the judge, “is kept in prison for as long as possible because he will attack again.”

  Regan stood with his head bowed, as usual, a look of indifference on his face. He acted as if he was disgusted and inconvenienced by having to listen to Donna and John talk about him in this way. He had pleaded guilty to kidnapping, unlawful restraint, and stalking. That was the deal Regan’s lawyers had negotiated. The charges were ba
sed on Donna’s and Regan’s coworker’s cases packaged as one. Had John Regan gone to trial and lost, he would have faced what some reports estimated was up to thirty-six years in prison. This deal would set him back fifteen years. He would also have to register as a sex offender for ten years.

  SA Connelly told reporters he believed this was the best the SAO could do and the stiffest possible sentence they could achieve “under the circumstances.”

  The biggest shock was that Regan had plea-bargained his cases into a concurrent sentence—meaning that he would only have to serve an additional three years for the Connecticut cases. He’d serve twelve years in New York and then owe Connecticut three years upon his release.

  One of the more dramatic moments of the proceeding came when a victim’s advocate read a letter written by Regan’s former coworker, who was too scared to read the letter herself. The coworker had been re-traumatized by the discovery of those eerie photographs (of her) that had been found in Regan’s van and at Wal-Mart, which clearly proved how obsessed Regan had been with her, even after being caught and out on bond in Donna’s case. A small portion of the letter she had written put it all into perspective: “He has come after me twice and I fear for my life.” As that sentence echoed throughout the courtroom, the woman began to shake and broke down in tears. She told reporters later that she suffered from heart palpitations, post-traumatic stress, and anxiety attacks. Her life would never be the same.

  Of course, Regan had zero reaction to those chilling words, at times only shifting his weight from one foot to the other, acting as if the court was wasting his time.