“If it were me, if it were my child, I’d want to give the police all the help I could,” we all said. But the hard truth is, despite all the criticism, the Ramseys had a right to do things the way they did.
Meanwhile, it’s kind of nice to think that maybe, just maybe, these two people didn’t kill their 6-year-old daughter and then cover it up.
Was it too easy for the Ramseys and their team of professional mind-changers to make us go hmmm? Probably.
But they’ve been trying to spin this for an awfully long while. If it took the lawyers and the private investigators and the public relations people that long to find this angle, they’re getting paid way too much.
—Kim Franke-Folstad
Rocky Mountain News, June 29, 1998
7
By the end of June, Pete Hofstrom had reviewed all the evidence and had made up his mind. Regardless of what his boss, Alex Hunter, intended, he himself would not participate in presenting the Ramsey case to the grand jury. As far as he was concerned, the evidence did not amount to probable cause against the Ramseys—or anyone else. The chief deputy DA would stand on principle: he thought it was just plain wrong to go after the Ramseys with so little hard evidence.
I have to fault Alex Hunter for not being willing to stand up and say, “We don’t have it.” He doesn’t have the backbone to do what’s right when he doesn’t have it. In the Elizabeth Manning case, he passed it on to the judges. Now he’s passing the decision on to the grand jury. I’d rather see him go on record in the Ramsey case if the evidence isn’t there and be straight and say that he’s not going to pursue it. After twenty-five years in office, you’d think he’d be able to take the heat himself.
A truly principled man would stand up and say, “If you don’t like my conclusion, if you want to appoint a special prosecutor, go ahead—that’s fine. But these are my ethics.”
—Judge Murray Richtel
By the end of the first week in July, there were disagreements in the DA’s office about how and when to interview the Ramseys’ friends. Susan and Glen Stine were willing to come in voluntarily, as were others, now that the case was in the DA’s hands. Pete Hofstrom, who was still advising Hunter, even though not directly involved in presenting the case, suggested that the staff move ahead with the interviews, but Michael Kane said that conducting them now might be a mistake. The Stines were sure to be called before the grand jury, and there the DA’s office would get testimony that was unrehearsed and given under oath.
Bill and Janet McReynolds had recently returned from the East Coast to collect their personal belongings before moving permanently to Massachusetts. When asked, they came in for another interview with the DA. It took all day. Detective Dan Schuler, who had interviewed Burke Ramsey, joined Lou Smit in the questioning. The similarities between Janet McReynolds’ play and JonBenét’s murder were discussed at length. The investigators explored Bill McReynolds’ physical ability to commit the murder—and questioned all the details of his travel to Spain, complete with several plane changes, the carrying of bags, all within ten days of the crime.
In the end Schuler said Bill McReynolds required more investigation and Smit felt that his wife had to be interviewed again.
When Steve Thomas heard of the interviews, he was outraged. In his mind, the Ramseys were destroying another person’s life in their desire to avoid being charged for murder.
Steve Thomas couldn’t forget the three days he had sat at police headquarters viewing the videotapes of the Ramseys’ interviews each evening, exchanging ideas for the next day’s session. Hunter’s group had sat on the right side of the room, and the detectives who had worked the case for over eighteen months sat on the left. Haney sat with the cops.
During one of those sessions, Thomas glanced across the room and saw Alex Hunter talking on his cell phone. Here were the videotaped interviews of the most critical suspects in the most important unsolved case confronting Boulder law enforcement, and the DA couldn’t give them his undivided attention? Thomas decided to resign from the Boulder Police Department. He had been weighing the pros and cons of such a move, but watching Hunter chat on his cell phone while the detectives gave their evaluations of the interviews finally tipped his internal scale. Thomas began to draft his letter of resignation.
CHASE TESTS TURN UP LITTLE
Seven months after the brutal murder of University of Colorado senior Susannah Chase, the detective investigating the slaying pledges to forge on “until all leads are exhausted.”
“Do we have enough for an arrest warrant?” Kerry Yamaguchi asked. “Probably not.”
But police did have enough, in recent months, to secure court-ordered saliva samples from at least two potential suspects, including one man who knew Chase and alluded to killing both her and JonBenét Ramsey.
Additionally, Boulder police have taken voluntary samples from at least 14 people, according to court documents recently obtained by the Daily Camera.
Police had hoped to match a perpetrator’s DNA to semen recovered from Chase’s body—semen that a Colorado Bureau of Investigation analyst said was no more than 30 hours old at the time it was recovered.
—Matt Sebastian
Daily Camera, July 23, 1998
Throughout July, as the media awaited word that the case would go to the grand jury, the DA’s staff was immersed in analyzing the evidence. The results of eighteen months of work by the Boulder police, the FBI, the CBI, and other agencies took time to review, and they were generating their own material too. More than forty-six hours of interviews with John, Patsy, and Burke Ramsey still had to be transcribed and cross-indexed.
Hofstrom had prevailed over Michael Kane on one point. On July 21, Trip DeMuth had interviewed Susan Stine for five hours. She came without an attorney, and the interview wasn’t tape-recorded. DeMuth dug around to see if Patsy or John had perhaps confessed to the Stines while living in their home in 1997. Absolutely not, said Susan Stine, who came off as such a staunch supporter of the Ramseys that the DA’s staff wondered how much weight to give her statements.
Fleet White refused to come in voluntarily to talk to Hunter’s staff. That alone confirmed the need to take the case to a grand jury. But there were good reasons for holding back on an announcement.
For over a year, the Ramseys had provided the police with very little, if any, documentation. Now they were complying with most of the DA’s requests, and Kane didn’t want to jeopardize their chance of getting whatever they needed. As long as the DA’s office didn’t publicly call for a grand jury, it seemed that the Ramseys would cooperate. Nevertheless, Hunter hoped that by Labor Day he could announce that on September 15 the case would go to the grand jury. As far as Kane was concerned, the Ramseys were the target the grand jury would hear about.
Steve Thomas finished his resignation letter around July 25 but decided to wait until August 6, JonBenét’s birthday, to turn it in. As the date approached, he thought about making the letter public at the same time that he presented it to Beckner. He had gotten many calls from reporters ever since rumors of his medical leave had surfaced. The most persistent caller was a Shelley Ross for ABC. On August 5, Thomas sent her a copy of his letter by FedEx. He had no idea what her reaction might be. That night he realized that when she received it the next day at around 10:30 A.M. New York time, the letter would be out of his control, so he quickly arranged to have copies delivered to Beckner, Dave Hayes, and police department attorney Bob Keatley at 9:00 A.M. Boulder time.
The next morning, ABC called to say that they wanted to videotape him. Peter Jennings would be reporting his resignation on the evening news, and they needed a face to associate with his name. Thomas agreed to let them film him at Home Depot, where he would be buying some lumber. He had been doing some home remodeling work with Todd Sears, a close friend. Sears had resigned from the department several years earlier, when Tom Koby interfered with a drug investigation he was heading.
When Mark Beckner arrived at work that morn
ing, he found a copy of Thomas’s letter:*
Chief Beckner,
On June 22, I submitted a letter to Chief Koby, requesting a leave of absence from the Boulder Police Department. In response to persistent speculation as to why I chose to leave the Ramsey investigation, this letter explains more fully those reasons.
The primary reason I chose to leave is my belief that the district attorney’s office continues to mishandle the Ramsey case. It became a nearly impossible investigation because of the political alliances, philosophical differences, and professional egos that blocked progress. The wrong things were done, and made it a matter of simple principle that I could not continue to participate as it stood with the district attorney’s office.
We [detectives] conducted an exhaustive investigation, followed the evidence where it led us, and were faithfully and professionally committed to this case. We were never afforded true prosecutorial support. How were we expected to “solve” this case when the district attorney’s office was crippling us with their positions? I believe they were, literally, facilitating the escape of justice.
Thomas went on to detail some of his grievances.
During the investigation, detectives would discover, collect, and bring evidence to the district attorney’s office, only to have it summarily dismissed or rationalized as insignificant. The most elementary of investigative efforts, such as obtaining telephone and credit card records, were met without support, search warrants denied. The significant opinions of national experts were casually dismissed or ignored by the district attorney’s office, even the experienced FBI were waved aside.
Those who chose not to cooperate were never compelled before a grand jury early in this case, as detectives suggested only weeks after the murder, while information and memories were fresh.
In a departure from protocol, police reports, physical evidence, and investigative information were shared with Ramsey defense attorneys, all of this in the district attorney’s office “spirit of cooperation.”
I was advised not to speak to certain witnesses, and all but dissuaded from pursuing particular investigative efforts. Polygraphs were acceptable for some subjects, but others seemed immune from such requests. Innocent people were not “cleared,” publicly or otherwise, even when it was unmistakably the right thing to do, as reputations and lives were destroyed.
There is evidence that was critical to the investigation, that to this day has never been collected, because neither search warrants nor other means were supported to do so. Not to mention evidence which still sits today, untested in the laboratory, as differences continue about how to proceed.
Then Thomas vented his frustrations about being muzzled during the investigation.
As the nation watched, appropriately anticipating a fitting response to the murder of the most innocent of victims, I stood bothered as to what occurred behind the scenes. We learned to ignore the campaign of misinformation in which we were said to be bumbling along, or else just pursuing one or two suspects in some ruthless vendetta. Much of what appeared in the press was orchestrated by particular sources wishing to discredit the Boulder Police Department. We watched the media spin, while we were prohibited from exercising First Amendment rights. Last year, when we discovered hidden cameras inside the Ramsey house, only to realize the detectives had been unwittingly videotaped, this should have rocked the police department off its foundation. Instead, we allowed that, too, to pass without challenge. The detectives’ enthusiasm became simply resigned frustration, acquiescing to that which should never have been tolerated. In the media blitz, the pressure of the whole world watching, important decisions seemed to be premised on “how it would play” publicly. As it goes, “evils that befall the world are not nearly so often caused by bad men, as they are by good men who are silent when an opinion must be voiced.”
I believe the district attorney’s office is thoroughly compromised. When we were told by one person in the district attorney’s office, months before we had even completed our investigation, that this case “is not prosecutable,” we shook our heads in disbelief.
We delayed and ignored, for far too long, that which was “right” in deference of maintaining this dysfunctional relationship with the district attorney’s office. Some of us bit our tongues as the public was told of this “renewed cooperation” between the police department and the district attorney’s office—this at the very time the detectives and those in the district attorney’s office weren’t even on speaking terms.
Finally, Thomas stated his hopes, fears, and regrets.
Will there be a real attempt at justice? I may be among the last to find out. I submitted over 250 investigative reports for this case alone. I’d have been happy to assist the grand jury. But the detectives, who know this case better than anyone, were told we would not be allowed as grand jury advisory witnesses, as is common place. If a grand jury is convened, the records will be sealed, and we will not witness what goes on inside such a proceeding.
The district attorney’s office should be the ethical and judicial compass for the community, ensuring that justice is served—or at least, sought. Instead, our DA has becoming [sic] a spinning compass for the media.
It is difficult to imagine a more compelling situation for the appointment of an entirely independent prosecution team to be introduced into this matter, who would oversee an attempt at righting this case.
I know that to speak out brings its own issues. I know what may occur—I may be portrayed as frustrated, disgruntled. Not so. In no way do I wish to harm this case or subvert the long and arduous work that has been done. I want justice for a child who was killed in her home on Christmas night.
There is some consolation that a greater justice awaits the person who committed these acts, independent of this system we call “justice.” A greater justice awaits. Of that, at least, we can be confident.
As a now infamous author, panicked in the night, once penned, “use that good southern common sense of yours.” I will do just that. Originally from a small southern town where this would never have been tolerated, where respect for law and order and traditions were instilled in me, I will take that murderous author’s out-of-context advice.
Regretfully, I tender this letter, and my police career, a calling which I loved.
I recalled a favorite passage recently, Atticus Finch speaking to his daughter: “Just remember that one thing does not abide by majority rule, Scout—it’s your conscience.”
At thirty-six years old, I thought my life’s passion as a police officer was carved in stone. I realize that although I may have to trade my badge for a carpenter’s hammer, I will do so with a clear conscience. It is with a heavy heart that I offer my resignation from the Boulder Police Department, in protest of this continuing travesty.
Detective Steve Thomas #638
Detective Division
Boulder Police Department
August 6, 1998
By 9:30 A.M. Mark Beckner’s secretary had left a message on Thomas’s voice mail: “The chief would like you to come in and work things out.” When he hadn’t returned the call an hour later, internal affairs called: “Could you please come in so we can work this out.”
After Craig Lewis of the Globe showed up at Thomas’s house at 1:30 P.M. asking for an interview, he knew that the news of his letter had gotten around to the media. Thomas refused to speak to Lewis. Within hours of ABC’s newscast reporting his resignation, every major media outlet called for an interview. One publication offered him over $100,000 for his first-person story. Thomas said no.
That evening, he received a letter from the Boulder PD asking him to come in and surrender his badge and credentials. The letter said he would be provided with an “armed escort through the department’s secure areas.” Was he also going to be handcuffed? He told the department that he would only turn over his shield to Commander Dave Hayes, whom he trusted and respected. A meeting was set for 10:00 P.M. the same night in the parking lot of a feed store
in Golden, beyond Boulder’s jurisdiction. Precisely on time, Thomas, in his white pickup truck, pulled up alongside an unmarked police car in the empty lot. As in a movie, under a bare lightbulb, Dave Hayes and Sgt. Mike Ready approached Thomas. They went through an inventory of everything that had to be returned to the department, down to the clip on his belt. Last was his shield. Thomas held it for a long moment, looking at his name and number. Then time was up and he handed it over. Hayes gave him a respectful nod, and they parted. As Ready and Hayes drove off, Thomas sat in his pickup.
Thomas was sure that the same egos that had run his friend John Eller out of town would want some payback from him. He braced himself, anticipating the worst.
The day after Steve Thomas’s resignation became public, Governor Romer called Bob Grant.
“A lot of people have been calling me about this Thomas letter,” said Romer, who mentioned he was calling from an airport. “I need some kind of response.” Grant had this image of Romer running through a terminal like O. J. Simpson talking on his cell phone. Clearly, the governor was hearing from people he respected.
“What do we do?” Romer wanted to know. Grant suggested that he and the other metro DAs discuss the situation and report back to him. It sounded as if Romer wanted the four of them to say publicly that everything was still on track with the case so that the governor could say, “I’m satisfied if they are satisfied.”
That same morning, Friday August 7, while Alex Hunter was touring Alaska’s inland waterway with his family, Wise and Hofstrom met with Beckner and Wickman to discuss Thomas’s letter. The problem, as Wise saw it, was that unlike Fleet White, who was simply an angry witness, Thomas would be taken seriously because he was a detective on the case. Wise asked Beckner to announce that Thomas’s letter was misleading and untrue, but the chief refused to go public. Wise thought Beckner was afraid that his officers would back Thomas and that he himself would be faced with a no-confidence vote, as Koby had been the previous year. Finally, Beckner relented, but he would only say publicly that he did not agree with Thomas’s opinion that the case could not be concluded successfully.
Perfect Murder, Perfect Town Page 65