Perfect Murder, Perfect Town

by Lawrence Schiller

  After Tracey’s op-ed piece ran on September 7, Bryan Morgan paid him a visit at his university office. Sitting in the tiny room stuffed with more than a thousand books, Morgan told Tracey that Patsy Ramsey wanted to talk to one of his journalism classes about her experience with the press. Tracey thought the idea wasn’t practicable: he was sure the media would storm his classroom when it was discovered that she would be talking to some college students. Nevertheless, Tracey told Morgan he would think about it, and the two men agreed to have lunch the following day. After the attorney left, Tracey glanced out the window at his unobstructed view of the Front Range and laughed. Patsy Ramsey’s idea was astonishingly naïve.

  Tracey speculated that the Ramseys, ready for a fight, were slowly coming out of their shell. Then he asked himself if their story wasn’t a way of critiquing the media, which led him to the idea of making a documentary.

  The next day, Morgan brought Pat Burke, Patsy’s attorney, to their lunch. The two lawyers pitched their clients’ desire to address Tracey’s students. “Patsy has a degree in journalism,” Burke said. Instead, Tracey broached his suggestion of making a documentary. Looking at the attorneys’ facial expressions, he was sure his idea would be nixed. Two days later, however, Tracey heard from Morgan that the Ramseys were interested in meeting him. They liked his idea. That evening, Tracey called his friend David Mills, an established British documentary filmmaker.

  Mills had, of course, heard of the Ramseys. Like most people, he had drawn conclusions about the case based solely on what he’d read in the newspapers. He believed the couple was guilty of killing their daughter. He told Tracey he wasn’t interested in some child murderers in Colorado. Before the two friends hung up, however, Tracey persuaded Mills to consider making a documentary about the case. His arguments about the one-sided view of the media had convinced Mills. The two men agreed they would meet with Patsy and John Ramsey.

  When Michael Tracey arrived in Atlanta on December 6, Bryan Morgan was already there. Ramsey came to the Hyatt Regency to pick them up. Shaking John Ramsey’s hand in the hotel lobby, Tracey had the odd feeling that he might be face-to-face with a child killer. At the Ramseys’ home, Tracey was introduced to Rachelle Zimmer, one of Bryan Morgan’s associate attorneys, who was living with the Ramseys until they got settled in their new home. She was making cookies in the kitchen. Patsy was on the patio, talking on her cell phone.

  “Well, they didn’t have handsome professors when I was a student in journalism school,” Patsy greeted Tracey. “Thank you” was the only reply the flustered professor could think of. Invited to sit down, Tracey told the Ramseys a little about himself. He’d received his doctorate in political science and American politics in Britain, and then moved to Boulder to teach in 1988, he said. His life’s work, he said, was to think about the media.

  “What do you want to do with us?” Patsy said. “What’s your idea?”

  It took Tracey a second or two to reply: “A story has been told about you and this murder. I want to see if another story could have been told.” He wasn’t prepared to make a presentation, but he plunged ahead: he wanted to include material about the credibility of the tabloids and the inaccurate reporting by the mainstream press, he said. Patsy seemed to like what she was hearing. John was noncommittal.

  Later in the afternoon, Ramsey took Tracey and Morgan back to the hotel so they could pick up David Mills, who had by then arrived from Hungary, where he was filming. Sitting in the car, Mills also had a strange feeling: Was he being driven by a murderer?

  At dinner, Patsy was the perfect hostess. They dined in a wood-paneled restaurant that resembled an English gentlemen’s club. Mills noticed the waiting staff’s kindheartedness toward the Ramseys. He also watched the Ramseys themselves. John was very reserved, while Patsy was outgoing—exactly what he expected from a southern beauty queen. Theirs was an odd relationship, Mills thought. A small incident piqued his interest in the couple.

  Ramsey had been telling Tracey about the media’s incorrect reporting. For example, they had said that he flew his own jet to JonBenét’s funeral. He didn’t own a jet, much less know how to fly one, he said. Mills asked Patsy: “How have you coped over the past year?” Patsy started to talk about her faith in God and then suddenly broke down. Mills felt guilty. John Ramsey never moved or looked up as Patsy cried. It was Bryan Morgan who attended to her. The lawyer took Patsy by the hand and led her to the ladies’ room so that she could compose herself. Mills wondered whether Ramsey was such a cold fish that he didn’t care about his wife. Tracey asked himself, Why on earth doesn’t this man get up and see if his wife is OK? Moments later, Patsy returned to the table. Without looking at her husband, she thanked her guests for being so kind.

  Later that night, Tracey and Mills discussed the incident. Mills felt that the couple had developed an unusual codependency in which it was understood that one of them had to be rock-solid at all times, lest both of them lose control. Tracey saw it slightly differently. In his view, John held it together for both of them.

  It was mysterious, however, and open to different interpretations. It was possible, for example, that John hated Patsy for showing weakness since he had mastered his own. When his daughter Beth had died, he had gone to pieces, but after reading many books about how to deal with a death in the family, he had found a way to control his grief. Perhaps he felt superior to his wife. When one writer was told about this incident, he said that Ramsey was surely a WASP of the stiff-upper-lip variety. Not only were they not given to histrionics; they were likely to ignore any unpleasantness, as if it had never happened. John Ramsey might have felt that his guests would be more comfortable if he didn’t acknowledge his wife’s little breakdown. His passing over it might also indicate that it wasn’t worrisome. Then what had happened would be open to fewer interpretations.

  On Sunday morning, December 7, Tracey, Mills, Bryan Morgan, and the Ramseys met again. Tracey emphasized that the proposed film would not exploit the murder of their daughter; its focus would be on journalism. If the filmmakers found no clear evidence of media distortion, they would say so in the documentary. Tracey told the Ramseys that the interviews would take several days. They would be given the opportunity to address allegations of sexual abuse and infidelity, which John Ramsey was very concerned about. Mills made it clear that he would have editorial control over the film, subject only to the broadcasters’ rights. The Ramseys would not be allowed to screen the documentary before it aired on British TV. Bryan Morgan wanted a provision in the agreement that the film would not air in the United States as long as a grand jury was under active consideration. A handshake sealed the arrangement.

  On the flight back to Hungary that afternoon, David Mills kept thinking that John Ramsey was too perfect. He couldn’t find one flaw in the man. Eventually, he stumbled on one possibility: Ramsey didn’t like confrontation. In both business and his personal life, he designed everything to avoid conflict. He tended to leave the dirty work to others.

  Back in Boulder, there was a difference of opinion among the Ramseys’ attorneys about whether the documentary would serve their clients’ best interests. Hal Haddon advised the Ramseys not to proceed with it. Their interviews might become evidence, he said. They might say something open to interpretation that could eventually be used against them. Other attorneys felt that the couple had been burned in their previous attempts to communicate through the media, and that this film was sure to backfire. Bryan Morgan, on the other hand, saw the project as meeting the emotional needs of his clients. As their attorney and friend, he was concerned with their future, and he knew they needed to do something. Patsy decided they would proceed with the project. Mills and Tracey were told that they could begin filming after the first of the year.

  10

  The worst thing that can ever happen to you is to lose a child. It becomes a hole that can never be filled.

  After Beth died, John didn’t have a lot of pictures of Melinda and John Andrew around—just
photos of Beth, even in his bathroom. He’d written a poem to her called “Daddy’s Little Girl” that he kept on his dresser where he put his watch and loose change every night. Right where he could see it every day. Twice a day, really.

  I remember some of that poem. It was a “Your First Steps” kind of thing. He wrote, “And the best thing of the day is to look after daddy’s little girl…” and “You are growing older with woman looks that are now clear.”

  So John Ramsey had already lost one child. I cannot imagine anyone who has gone through that pain to intentionally inflict it on himself a second time. I cannot imagine it. Just cannot. His subconscious knew that pain. It is the worst pain ever. His subconscious would have stopped him. Whoever struck that blow, it wasn’t John Ramsey.

  —Linda Wilcox

  The police were now working in earnest to complete the to-do list by December 1, as Tom Koby had promised. One open question was whether the penetration of JonBenét’s vagina took place before or after her death. Also at issue was whether there had been any prior sexual abuse that her pediatrician might not have noticed.

  On November 5, Detective Weinheimer arrived in St. Clair Shores, Michigan, to meet Dr. Werner Spitz, one of the world’s foremost forensic pathologists. Weinheimer took with him a stack of black-and-white photographs of the cellulose that coroner John Meyer had found in JonBenét’s vagina. Weinheimer wanted to discuss not only the cellulose but also the probable chronology of events leading up to JonBenét’s murder. The detective told Spitz about the pineapple found in her small intestine, which might be an indicator of the time of death. Spitz said he would have to examine the slides of the cellulose before he could state anything definitively. He was willing to go to Boulder, he said. Ten days later, Weinheimer and Spitz met with Tom Faure, the coroner’s chief medical investigator, at Boulder Community Hospital. By then Weinheimer had already consulted with another specialist, Dr. David Jones, a professor of preventive medicine and biometrics at the University of Colorado Health Sciences Center.

  Spitz examined the four slides of tissue taken from JonBenét’s vaginal area and discussed with Weinheimer and Faure what the coroner had observed about the head injury, strangulation, and vaginal cavity. After viewing the slides, Spitz repeated his opinion: the injury to JonBenét’s vagina had happened either at or immediately prior to her death—not earlier.

  The police had to piece together the findings of the various pathologists, who had explained to them that when food is swallowed, it goes first to the stomach, then passes to the duodenum, and from there to the lower small intestine. Eventually, the digested food passes into the large bowel, from which it exits. Food found in the stomach and intestines can sometimes be used to estimate the time of ingestion and to narrow the time of death.

  In the Ramseys’ dining room, just steps away from the kitchen, the police had found a bowl with fresh pineapple in it. Meyer noted in his report that the pineapple in JonBenét’s small intestine was in near-perfect condition—it had sharp edges and looked as if it had been recently eaten and poorly chewed.

  Based on the condition of the pineapple in her intestine, the experts estimated that JonBenét had eaten it an hour and a half or two hours before she died, most likely after the family returned home that night. However, one Boulder medical examiner stated it could have been eaten as early as 4:30 P.M.—before the Ramseys left their home for a dinner at the Whites. If JonBenét had eaten the pineapple after 10:30 P.M., that made the approximate time of death not earlier than midnight.

  Next, the investigators reviewed JonBenét’s various injuries. A blow to the head can result in bleeding inside the skull, which can cause death immediately or sometime later. Microscopic examination of the area near the brain where the bleeding occurred can help determine how long before death the injury took place. But was it the garroting or the head injury that had caused JonBenét’s death? The experts agreed that either would have been fatal.

  According to the specialists, her head injury had likely come first. Since a six-year-old’s skull is more resilient than an adult’s, the blow must have been of tremendous force. The injury to her head was fully developed, which meant that her heart had beaten for some time after the blow. Also, the bruise to her brain did not immediately shut down all activity in JonBenét’s body. However, the strangulation by the noose had created a deep furrow in her neck, which acted like a tourniquet and caused complete interruption of the blood flow to and from her brain. The specialists estimated that ten to forty-five minutes might have elapsed between the blow to her head and the cessation of JonBenét’s vital functions, which was probably caused by the noose being pulled tight with the help of the stick attached to the cord.

  It was possible, however, that the strangulation occurred first, then while in progress the blow to the head took place, and the continual strangulation caused JonBenét’s death.

  The conjecture that the blow to JonBenét’s head took place first fit the scenario that the police considered most likely: that JonBenét had been struck on the head with the heavy flashlight in or near the kitchen. The police had found it on a kitchen counter.

  Finally, the detectives turned to the microscopic splinter of cellulose found in JonBenét’s vagina, which looked like wood. The broken paintbrush that had been tied to the stick was splintered into shards. Logic suggested that a splinter of wood might have stuck to the perpetrator’s finger before he or she penetrated JonBenét vaginally. It could also have broken off the end of the paintbrush if the stick, rather than a finger, was used to penetrate her.

  If the cellulose did, in fact, come from the paintbrush, then most probably the “garrote” had been assembled before JonBenét was violated. Since there was some evidence of vaginal bleeding, it was also logical to assume that the child had already been strangled but was not yet dead when she was penetrated. Consistent with penetration of a female child of JonBenét’s age, her hymen was torn. In such a case, the edges are pulled away and recede quickly, creating a visible difference between a torn and an intact hymen. Photographs of her injured hymen taken at the autopsy indicated to some experts a recent tear, fresh bleeding, and no healing. Logic suggested that JonBenét had been penetrated almost concurrently with her death.

  There remained the question whether JonBenét had also been penetrated—that is, sexually abused—previously. Here the experts disagreed. Dr. David Jones said the child’s vagina showed a history of abuse, since the cellulose dated from an old injury. Dr. Spitz, however, said there was no clear indication of prior penetration and that the cellulose dated from the injury that had taken place around her time of death.

  I’d be driving someplace and I would ruminate over it. It’s not like you can say, “I’ve done the autopsy. I’ve submitted my report. We’ve done our thing. It’s not my problem anymore.” It’s an unsolved case I can’t dismiss, because there is a possibility that I’m going to be involved in it again. I know I’m going to testify.

  I try to theorize how things occurred. What are the triggers?

  I’d come to the point that I was real clear on it and then, the next day or a week later, I’d think about it again and wouldn’t be very clear on what happened. I probably have come up with a variety of different scenarios at different times. I don’t think at this point, right now, I am that clear about what happened.

  —John Meyer

  Another item on the detectives’ list was locating the missing keys to the Ramseys’ house. Jay Pettipiece, a painter, told the police he couldn’t find his key. Suzanne Savage, one of JonBenét’s baby-sitters, found her key; she told Detective Harmer that she had never copied it or allowed anyone to have it, but remembered giving an extra one to Linda Wilcox.

  During the second week in November, the police began recanvassing the Ramseys’ neighborhood for unfamiliar cars that had been seen around the time of JonBenét’s murder. Parking tickets had become known as a source of information after New York City serial killer David Berkowitz was placed at th
e scene of one of the Son of Sam murders by a ticket he had received.

  In the Ramsey case, one of the previously unidentified cars was found to belong to Eric Keck, who often visited his girlfriend, Nicole Spurlock, on 15th Street. Even after the couple broke up, Keck continued to park his car in the area. Another unfamiliar automobile turned out to belong to Donna Norris, whose daughter, a student at CU, used her car and lived across the street from the Ramseys. In the end, though, none of the parking tickets or suspicious cars led to a connection to JonBenét.

  Meanwhile, on November 10, Kathy Dressel, the CBI’s DNA expert, and Melissa Weber, a DNA expert from Cellmark, met with the key members of the police department and the DA’s staff to explain the function and the limits of DNA tests. Back in July, Dressel had reported to the police that John’s and Patsy’s DNA didn’t match what was found under JonBenét’s fingernails. Now she emphasized particularly the role of statistics and the margins for error.

  The foreign DNA that had been found under JonBenét’s fingernails was extremely weak and possibly contaminated. The contamination could have taken place at any time after the material was first lodged under the child’s nails and until her body was placed on the floor near the Christmas tree. Although it was highly unlikely, the contamination could even have taken place during the autopsy. The clippers used to cut JonBenét’s fingernails may not have been properly sterilized. It was also possible that the substance found was not correctly preserved before the DNA was extracted for testing. In any case, weak DNA would not provide a reliable sample to match another person’s DNA.