by Colin McEvoy
Mary Jane stopped mid-thought, and suddenly, inexplicably, she was talking about her father again. “… never found him. I had lots of problems with the investigation. There wasn’t any evidence.”
Mary Jane’s voice became very low, lower than at any point since she was brought into the room, and she appeared to be on the verge of crying, but no tears came. She stared at Dietz and started rubbing the handcuff on her left wrist.
“Now, it looks like I am a suspect,” she said.
Before Dietz could reply, Mary Jane returned to the subject of her father, and described the investigation. She described Officer Triol’s attempts to get her to confess, a topic that seemed to anger her.
“Office Triol tried to break me down, questioned me. She would check on me weekly. She read me my Miranda act in my HOUSE,” she said, loudly pronouncing the final word. “I broke down and threw her out. I would have liked not to be questioned in my house. If it was at her station, I would have gone.”
After some quiet, mostly incoherent mumbling, Mary Jane added, “I had a lousy life. Nothing to live for.”
Suddenly, she looked back into Dietz’s eyes. Throughout the entire conversation, Mary Jane had shown no outward sign of emotion. But now, there was a clear expression of anger on her face, and it was directed straight at Dietz.
“You have a lot to talk to me about, oh YEAH,” she said, drawing out and particularly emphasizing the final phrase.
It was as if Mary Jane had realized for the first time that she was talking to a police officer, and what the ramifications of that could mean for her. Before Dietz could respond, Trooper Patrick McGuire entered the room and announced it was time for Mary Jane to be processed. As McGuire removed the handcuff from the post, Mary Jane looked angrily at Dietz and motioned toward his notebook, “You done taking notes?”
Dietz didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing as McGuire led Mary Jane out of the room.
* * *
After Stumpo snapped a photo of Mary Jane for her criminal file, he realized she was still wearing her wig. He thought perhaps it would be best to get a photo without the wig, and asked Mary Jane to remove it.
She politely obliged, removing it from her head to reveal a messy, unwashed mass of hair that, to Stumpo, looked exactly the same as if she was still wearing the wig.
Stumpo took another photo and suppressed an urge to shake his head at the oddity that was Mary Jane Fonder. When he was finished, he led her to a seat in the processing room, where she was fingerprinted. It was around quarter to five when they were finished, and Mary Jane’s left wrist was once again handcuffed to the wall while she remained seated. Dietz, who was once again asked to monitor Mary Jane, stood watching as Egan brought a copy of the criminal complaint and affidavit for her to read.
After leafing through the first few pages of the documents, Mary Jane started shaking her head and mumbling things like, “No, not me.” After reading a few more pages, she threw them down on the table next to her and simply sat there, staring at Egan and Dietz. Gone were any traces of the sweet, kind old lady Egan had seen when they arrested her a few hours earlier, or the laughing, almost flirty attitude she had initially exhibited to Dietz in the holding room. They were replaced with an angry scowl, the look of a woman who no longer had to hide her irritation.
After about sixty seconds of staring at the two men, Mary Jane picked up the documents again. “I’ll read through this and see what you have to say,” she said.
As she continued to read through the papers, her demeanor grew angrier and angrier.
“That’s pathetic, I am so disgusted with what he said to you,” Mary Jane said. “If you could see his face. What a phony! Why in the name of God would he encourage me?”
At first, the two troopers didn’t know whom she was referring to, but it became all too clear in just a moment.
“I cared for him, my dear friend Greg,” she said, drawing out his name in a very sarcastic tone. “He is not at all what I thought. I did not make that phone call to him, untrue, absolutely untrue! I am telling you it is not true.”
Mary Jane’s voice was growing louder and louder with every word. “I am very disappointed at the pastor. He is so, why, disgraceful! How could he? Went to the church unannounced. That … that … cad!”
Mary Jane continued reading, her anger softening a bit, but she occasionally muttered things like, “absolutely revolting,” “he is a liar,” “impossible,” and “I am heartbroken.” At one point, Mary Jane angrily pointed at the information about Stumpo calling her former coworkers at Denny’s. “I TOLD YOU THAT, about the restaurant!” Mary Jane almost shouted.
Egan had heard about Mary Jane’s earlier statements to Dietz, of course, but he was still surprised. Suspects simply did not talk this way immediately after their arrest, at least not during their processing. Eventually, her anger returned to the pastor. This is helpful, Egan noted to himself. Anything she had to say now would only strengthen their case about the strong feelings she had for Shreaves. The motive that led her to commit murder.
“This is revolting. Just today…” she said, but failed to finish the thought. “Make me think he likes me. He is a chameleon, two faced.”
She looked up at Dietz and said, “Sorry for the bad word.” Dietz didn’t know what word she was referring to, but shook his head in an affirmative anyway. Egan suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, recognizing the tactic of Mary Jane’s from his interview with her.
“I will be happy to speak with the attorney about the pastor,” Mary Jane continued. “He offered to have me come in for Sunday School classes. He loves to talk to me. This is revolting!
“That phony, fake, bullshitter. How dare he? Encourage me to come to service,” she said, sarcastically emphasizing her words again. “I loved having him at service. He liked me. Encouraging me to come. That phony!”
Next, she turned to the page about the discovery of her gun in Lake Nockamixon, and her demeanor changed altogether. Egan was reminded of the bombshell about the wig Stumpo dropped on her during their four-hour interview. It was clearly something she hadn’t expected at the time, and she had appeared to be processing the information even as she continued speaking. She was doing the same now.
“Oh my God, they found my gun,” she said. “It … is … threw away years ago. How amazing. Hmmm. I didn’t think you would locate it, I didn’t think you would ever find it…”
She was still keeping up the act, Egan thought, still pretending she had thrown the gun away fourteen years ago, even though it was in near-perfect condition when it was discovered by the lake.
“My God,” Mary Jane said, acting surprised. “Somebody used that gun! Oh my gosh!”
Egan couldn’t help but feel a bit surprised. Confronted with proof that her gun killed Rhonda, Mary Jane had already started spinning a new story altogether: that fourteen years after she disposed of the gun, somebody had somehow found it and committed the murder with it.
“Well, I can see why you called me in,” Mary Jane said. “That it was from my gun, that is terrible. Thought it hit the water. 1994. I feel horrible. Someone else used my gun. I wouldn’t hit that girl. Oh that pastor. Sorry it was my gun. I didn’t use …
“Bob,” she said, looking into Egan’s eyes. “Bob, I am in terrible shape.”
Egan nodded.
“There are two dead people at the church,” Mary Jane said.
Egan and Dietz looked at each other, puzzled at first, but soon Egan understood. Mary Jane was referring to herself. She was the second victim: an innocent woman accused of a crime she didn’t commit, who was facing the prospect of life in prison because her gun had been used by somebody else. Egan felt disgusted that Mary Jane would compare herself to Rhonda in such a way.
For the next several minutes, Mary Jane continued to speak in short, disconnected bursts of thought, as she had earlier with Dietz after the memory of her cousins caused her such distress.
“I am not a murderer.” “Killed poo
r Rhonda Smith.” “Just horrible, doesn’t look good for me.” “I wish I would have stayed away from the church, terrible thing.” “I am hurting like crazy.” “Hook, line and sinker.” “I had no reason to attack that girl.” “He is a liar.” “Can’t deny it was used on Rhonda. Unbelievable.” “God, I am glad you found my gun, just not under the circumstances.” “Okay, oh my God, how the hell am I going to get out of this?”
“It is a bitch!” Mary Jane blurted out suddenly, then laughed out loud. “Something from Neverland coming to get me. I got the Devil crawling on me. Most unfortunate.”
Egan and Dietz said nothing. It was like nothing they had ever heard from a suspect before.
After a brief pause, Mary Jane said, “Okay, well guys, all right. I guess go see a judge?”
Egan explained that she was about to be arraigned before Magistrate District Judge Robert Schnell Jr. in Doylestown, but that given the nature of her alleged crime, she would not be entitled to bail. Mary Jane nodded that she understood.
“I know where I will be living,” she said. “How long I don’t know. I will have to try and convince a jury. Somebody had my gun. That pastor … what a cad.”
She continued to mutter things about Shreaves, although Dietz was finding her harder and harder to follow.
“The man was all over me,” she said. “Was a fan of women as women go. A ladies’ man. Didn’t take to him very much. Didn’t push myself to see him. He didn’t impress me. Very tall, unusually tall. Not that tall matters.”
She put up a hand and added, “I can’t call him a friend. He was interested in me. Because Rhonda got shot. He was friendly with both of us. Me and her were having a good time with him. Maybe he thought I did something. Just today…”
Mary Jane stopped. When she didn’t continue, Egan asked her if she had any questions regarding the affidavit. She shook her head no. And, to the troopers’ amazement, she still wasn’t finished talking.
“I am sorry whoever found it used it on Rhonda,” she said. “I couldn’t figure out what direction my life was going the last couple of weeks. Hmmm. Always friendly with him. He always had a good time. We all want to come to a conclusion on who killed that woman.”
Stumpo entered the processing room and announced that Judge Schnell was ready for Mary Jane. She finally stopped talking as Stumpo and Egan brought her out to a patrol car and left the Dublin barracks. Mary Jane, once again, sat uncharacteristically silent in the backseat. As they arrived in Doylestown, Stumpo pulled the car over into the Moravian Pottery & Tile Works parking lot, where they met another patrol car that was going to accompany them to the arraignment.
Mary Jane looked out the car window and said, “Look at the green grass. I guess I should get a good look at it. I may never see green grass again.”
After a brief arraignment devoid of any press attention, Mary Jane Fonder was ordered to be held without bail and remanded to the Bucks County Correctional Facility.
CHAPTER 30
That afternoon, Rosalie Schnell got a phone call from Kathy, her friend from the nearby borough of Coopersburg. Kathy often liked to call for idle gossip or chit-chat, but Rosalie was caught completely off guard by what her friend had to share today.
“Did you hear the news?” Kathy asked. “You had a real experience in your area!”
“No,” Rosalie replied. “I didn’t watch the news.”
“Isn’t your neighbor’s last name Fonder?” Kathy asked.
“Yeah…” Rosalie responded, startled.
“Mary Jane Fonder murdered somebody!”
Rosalie didn’t respond. She just stood there, her hand shaking as she grasped the receiver, in such a state of shock that Kathy had to call out her name repeatedly before she could snap out of it.
Similar waves of shock would soon resonate throughout the whole Bucks County region. The arrest of Mary Jane Fonder would be met with feelings of horror, fascination, and incredulity from almost the entire population. Judy Zellner, like Rosalie, first learned of the arrest from a phone call, when her daughter called and instructed her to turn the news on right away.
“The defendant in this case had very strong feelings for the pastor in the church,” Bucks County District Attorney Michelle Henry was saying at a press conference. “She was jealous of the fact that the victim was getting attention from the pastor.”
As Judy watched, her body began to shake uncontrollably. She had known for weeks, of course, that Mary Jane was under suspicion, but after hearing the words from the district attorney’s mouth, Judy found herself overcome with fear and disgust, thinking back to the hug Mary Jane had given her earlier in the day in the church parking lot.
Oh my God, Judy thought. I was with her all morning.
Soon, Judy was on the phone with Sue Brunner, whose feelings were much the same as Judy’s, although her first reaction to the arrest was one of humor: Sue laughed and said to her husband, “I’m sorry you didn’t get your pie,” a reference to the blueberries Mary Jane had mentioned having saved some earlier in the day.
But John Brunner found little humor in the situation. Despite everything, despite Mary Jane’s eccentricities and all the rumors that had been flying about her father, the Brunners couldn’t believe that Mary Jane could resort to such ghastly violence. John couldn’t help but remember all the times Mary Jane would come over to their house, often uninvited, and leave cards, notes, food, and other gifts for him. Sometimes, she’d just let herself into their home without even knocking, including one instance when John was in bed asleep.
All the gifts and visits had caused the Brunners to believe Mary Jane harbored a little crush on John, something they had viewed as harmless and even a bit comical in the past. Now, the thought of it was nothing short of terrifying, especially considering the apparent jealousy toward Rhonda that authorities claimed drove Mary Jane to murder.
It could have been Sue, John thought to himself. Sue could be the dead one.
Later, Sue also recalled that she had spoken with Mary Jane just the day before her arrest, and Mary Jane had claimed she was feeling “bad vibes.” Mary Jane quickly ended the brief conversation after that, and at the time it had seemed mostly insignificant to Sue. Now, it seemed downright eerie.
Within minutes of the announcement of Mary Jane’s arrest, scores of news vans and reporters started swarming Springfield Township and its neighboring towns, both from the local media outlets and the larger Philadelphia market. The sudden explosion of attention was completely foreign to the quiet rural neighborhood, and not entirely welcome. The story of Rhonda Smith’s murder—an innocent woman slain in the rural parish of Anytown, USA—had already been fascinating to the press. Now, the addition of an oddball elderly murderess and a twisted love triangle—however one-sided—made the story downright irresistible to them.
Although the affidavit Stumpo and Egan painstakingly prepared laid out the case in great detail, Dave Zellis still found himself fielding call after call from reporters anxious to learn more about Mary Jane’s frame of mind. (His response: “How about if we leave that to a courtroom?”) In the meantime, reporters were out in droves, knocking on doors, and visiting local businesses. Nobody answered at the Fonder residence, but there was no shortage of people willing to discuss the case and the unusual defendant.
“She had a horrible personality,” Vera Lalli, owner of the favorite local spot Vera’s Country Cafe, told a reporter. Both Mary Jane and Rhonda were frequent visitors and, although she described Rhonda as bubbly and cheerful, she painted a portrait of Mary Jane as a grumpy old lady. “I guess she was a sad individual,” Lalli said. “She seemed to be kind of a loner.”
Some said the arrest came as absolutely no surprise at all. Michael MacHukas, the Berks County man who Mary Jane had taken to court back in 1994, told his wife about the arrest, and she immediately broke down crying. They remembered how fanatical Mary Jane had appeared when she talked about the “very sacred area” of trees and they had the distinct feeling that she
was perfectly capable of murder.
“She was a real nutcase, man,” MacHukas later told a reporter from The Morning Call, the Allentown-based newspaper.
Others were more surprised that the seemingly kind old lady from their neighborhood would be capable of such a crime. Vera Deacon, the Trinity Evangelical parish nurse, could barely contain her shock when approached by The Morning Call for a comment: “I never saw any indication of any problem. It’s amazing. It’s amazing that it occurred in our church, and it’s amazing that one of our members is now charged with it.”
Todd Slotter, who lived not far down the street from Mary Jane on Winding Road, told the press she was always quick to say hello, and attended funeral services for his relatives, even when she didn’t know them particularly well. Slotter admitted he didn’t know much about Mary Jane, but told reporters, “It’s not fair to me to pass on my own judgments because a lot of people have their own ideas.”
* * *
Jim and Dorothy Smith had received a call from police early that morning, letting them know an arrest was pending, but they had no idea who the suspect was until they watched it on the news later, along with everybody else. And, like everybody else, they were in shock. This was the same woman who brought them a pie in their time of grieving. The same woman who they had given two pairs of Rhonda’s shoes to as a gift, a thought that now filled them both with disgust. Dorothy reflected on the fact that, just a few short hours ago, she was sitting next to Mary Jane at the Prime Timers club.
“I was hoping they’d find somebody,” Dorothy said. “I never expected she’d be sitting right next to me.”
The whole idea of it was especially hard to accept because they barely knew Mary Jane, and to their knowledge, Rhonda had only ever talked to her a handful of times in passing. They listened to the news of Mary Jane’s alleged motive for the shooting, but it made no sense to them. Jealousy? Feelings for the pastor? How could Mary Jane have believed their daughter had anything to do with any of this?