“The fact that we brought the pornography into the trial was to corroborate that this is where Peterson’s interest was,” Saacks confided. “The main thing was to show proof of marital infidelity because it was a possible motive for murder, but also because it would bust what the defense brought up in the opening statement about this being the ideal marriage and them being soul mates.”
Jurors would soon learn that Peterson had a file in his desk drawer that included a packet of e-mails to a male escort, Brad. Police had seized the file, which was somehow mixed in with Kathleen Peterson’s important tax documents and her check stubs, and prosecutors had reason to believe Kathleen Peterson had found the file folder. They surmised she might have looked through her husband’s desk while she was waiting for her e-mail from Canada.
Because Durham police had witnessed Michael Peterson very busy working on his computer—on the night of his wife’s death—the computer was seized and an expert was hired by the state. Todd Markley would later testify that Peterson had used a program called Quick Clean to delete 2,500 pictures from his computer. The expert would testify that hundreds of Peterson’s files were deleted during the week of Kathleen Peterson’s death, including 216 files that were erased the day before Mrs. Peterson died, and 352 files that were deleted two days after her death.
According to the computer sleuth, during the week of his wife’s death, Michael Peterson had tried to delete everything from his computer altogether, and then had selectively reloaded certain programs and e-mails back onto his machine.
The expert was an employee of an Ohio-based company called CompuSleuth. He would testify that his company not only found deleted pornographic photos and suggestive e-mails, but had found e-mails written by Michael Peterson regarding his financial worries as well. The numerous e-mails were entered into evidence, and regarding his financial troubles, Peterson’s words were read aloud for jurors to hear.
In one of the e-mails, written days before Kathleen’s death, Michael talked about “poor Kathleen,” who was “undergoing the tortures of the damned” at Nortel Networks. According to Michael, Nortel had already laid off forty-five thousand people. He believed that his wife was a “survivor,” and thought her job would remain intact, but he mentioned that she was experiencing “monumental stress,” having to work under such negative conditions.
In another e-mail, Michael spoke of the financial difficulties being suffered by his sons, Clayton and Todd. He informed relatives, including his ex-wife, Patricia, that Clayton and Todd were both living in debt, paying high interest on credit cards, explaining that he was “worried sick about them.” Michael expressed to one relative that he was “sorry as hell to have to come begging,” but he was hoping that the person could offer $5,000 a semester in assistance toward Martha Ratliff’s college tuition. In separate pleas to Patricia, Michael requested that his ex-wife take out a $30,000 home equity loan to help with the cost-of-living expenses for their boys.
When the bisexuality of Michael Peterson was entered into the trial, the genteel ears of Southern ladies and gentlemen in the courtroom perked up. Some of Kathleen’s family members weeped. It was too embarrassing, too humiliating for them to see Kathleen’s private life being dragged through the mud. From the explicit nature of Michael’s e-mails, it was obvious that he was not only an adulterer, but he was perhaps more homosexual than straight. The thought of Kathleen’s marriage being a sham, especially when she was paying for everything, and taking care of everyone, was all the more hurtful to her sisters and to Caitlin.
Michael and Brad had begun communicating in late August 2001. They had spoken on the phone. They had discussed their likes and dislikes. And Michael had checked out Brad’s Web site, which, from the looks of it, made Brad seem like a superstud. Michael wondered if Brad had ever considered going into the porn business and suggested that Brad contact a porn king in Palm Springs.
In an e-mail written from Brad, dated August 31, 2001, Brad asked Michael for more specific details about the gay porn king. The porn king apparently owned a Palm Springs resort, where he auditioned young men for possible film roles. The following morning, at 3:36, Michael had written back to offer a full report about the “major figure” in the male porn industry, who had gotten started by “paying Marines to jack off on film.”
Michael suggested that Brad go to the Internet to look up the history of the man and his resort, and was he intrigued to learn that Brad would consider the possibility of doing porn films. Because Brad was such a strapping, beautiful, blond hunk, at least from looking at pictures of him on his Web page, Michael felt Brad fit the USMC profile that the guy in Palm Springs was looking for.
Michael suggested that Brad go to Palm Springs and audition for a part in an all-male porn film. From Brad’s reviews, posted on his Web site, it was clear that the young military stud would fit right in with other soldiers and sailors who had done those kind of flicks. It was good money; it was easy money. Michael thought that Brad would be perfect, that he could make it “big time.” He explained that the Palm Springs porn king took pride in “discovering macho young guys—mostly Marines.”
In the meantime, Michael wanted Brad to come up to his house. He wanted the young man to see the gorgeous place, where he could give Brad more information about the porn business, if that was of any interest. Michael said that he himself had always wondered what his life would have been like as a porn star, stating that his “Cecil B. DeMille moment” had happened many years prior, when Michael was a “poster boy” for the marines, having had his face plastered on walls in every recruit office across America.
In a subsequent e-mail, Michael said he would be happy to help Brad get started in any “career change” he might be considering, whether it was the porn movie business, or a new start in education. At one point, the young soldier had mentioned his interest in becoming a dentist, and Michael offered to introduce him to friends who could help Brad gain admission to one of the colleges in North Carolina. Michael said he had friends and connections everywhere, and he was willing to befriend Brad in any way.
Michael was offering friendship, not because he was looking for a discount. He understood that Brad needed to earn a living. Michael was happy to meet with Brad for “straight-on business,” without any strings attached. Michael said he was looking forward to meeting a “fuck machine,” and offered to fuck Brad “for the set price.”
Brad wrote back immediately, telling Michael how “cool” he sounded, telling Michael that he was used to being a “top,” but would let Michael “bang” him, assuming Michael was “man enough.” Regarding Michael’s remarks about having “plenty of money,” Brad joked that if Michael had extra cash to throw around, he would appreciate Michael donating it to the “Poor Private’s Foundation,” since he was still a private, “albeit, private first class.”
The two of them had plans to meet on Wednesday, September 5, 2001. Michael had a meeting to attend in the early part of the evening, and Brad was about to be flown out of the area, but Michael would be willing to meet Brad in an airport hotel to “give a soldier a send-off.”
But the meeting never happened.
Brad was unable to return Michael’s message of September 2, because as it happened, the soldier’s flight plans had changed and he had taken off at 6:00 A.M. the next day. And then, without question, the 9/11 terrorist attacks had impacted Brad’s life immensely. Because of the red alert, Brad had been placed on guard duty around the clock, every day. He finally wrote to Michael on September 30, explaining that he’d been so crazy on the job, he hadn’t made time for any calls, and he hadn’t hooked up with any clients. Brad apologized for not getting back in touch sooner, writing to say he had returned to Raleigh briefly and was now headed to Fort Bragg for additional guard duty.
Though the two men never did find the time and place to hook up, their e-mails were conclusive evidence of Peterson’s sexual secret, and prosecutors called Brad to the witness stand to testify. They wanted the young
soldier to identify Michael Peterson as the man whom he’d spoken to, as the man he made sexual arrangements with. Unwilling to go before the court without being given statewide immunity from prosecution, Brad had hired his own attorney, Thomas Loflin III. The media whirled into a feeding frenzy around Brad, and his attorney was insisting that Brad’s identity remain veiled, since he was still on active duty, serving in the army reserve.
As it turned out, Judge Hudson refused to shield Brad’s face or identity from the press. The feisty judge said that giving the young man immunity in exchange for his testimony was a big enough concession, and said he wasn’t about to make any “deals” with “Brad,” who was no different from any other witness in the case.
The next day, prosecutor Freda Black questioned Brent Wolgamott, aka Brad, and asked him about his male escort business. The young man, with a crew cut and a wide smile, had worn a navy blue blazer with brass buttons; he had dressed the part for his fifteen minutes of fame. He seemed only too happy to have his say on the witness stand with national camera crews fighting to get pictures of his face.
After being granted immunity, Brent “Brad” Wolgamott waived his Fifth Amendment right, and told the court that he charged $150 an hour for his services. He bragged that his client roster included doctors and lawyers, and told Freda Black that most of the men whom he would see would have “their time” with him and then go back to their “happy-hubby lives.”
“And what type of services did you perform?” Black wanted to know.
“Oh, well, that’s pretty broad,” the soldier said, smiling.
“Did it involve sexual activity?”
“Sometimes it does.”
“What types of sexual activity?” Black asked.
“Oh, well, just about anything under the sun,” the young man testified, laughing and shaking his head.
When David Rudolf had a chance to cross-examine the witness, he asked questions that tried to show how Kathleen Peterson would have been aware of her husband’s bisexuality. Rudolf implied that Kathleen most likely accepted her husband’s double life, that Kathleen was probably not bothered by it.
But Kathleen’s family knew better. They knew Kathleen was devastated by her first husband’s affair, and there was no way in the world that Kathleen would have tolerated Michael having lovers, gay or otherwise.
The twenty-eight-year-old Wolgamott had never met Michael Peterson, had never seen him face-to-face, until the day he appeared in court. The young man claimed that he was no longer a male escort, testifying that he was a college student working hard at trying to make something out of his life. Wolgamott tried looking over at Michael Peterson during his few hours on the stand, but the young man couldn’t catch Peterson’s eye. In terms of being able to comment about what Kathleen Peterson might have known about her fifty-eight-year-old husband’s homosexual desires, the former male escort had no idea.
He described his clients as being “predominantly straight with minor homosexual tendencies,” and said that he would have no way of knowing what went on in the Peterson household, explaining things never got that personal. He testified that “there were never any romantic relationships involved,” never any highly personal exchanges with any of his clients.
Forty-seven
Before blood analyst Agent Duane Deaver was able to testify in open court as a blood spatter expert, he faced a barrage of questions from David Rudolf, who was challenging the expert’s credentials. Rudolf tried to diminish the blood expert, he tried as best he could to rattle Agent Deaver, who had been analyzing bloodstains at crime scenes since 1988.
The defense attorney didn’t want the jurors to hear Agent Deaver’s findings. Rudolf used his best efforts to stump Agent Deaver, to muddy the waters, to mock the special agent, claiming that Deaver wasn’t qualified to be called as an expert because his experiments were flawed. In fact, Rudolf’s argument against Deaver’s testimony would last so long, that the electric power in New York City and parts of the Northeast would have time to go out and be restored again.
David Rudolf tried relentlessly to persuade the court that Deaver was not “proficient” enough to testify in Michael Peterson’s murder trial. However, after all the endless hours spent outside the presence of the jury, Judge Hudson would ultimately declare that Agent Duane Deaver, who had testified as an expert in over sixty cases, who had been involved in over five hundred criminal cases during his career, would be heard.
From the moment he took the stand, the state’s star witness was bombarded with demands for credentials. In an attempt to sway the jury, to get the jury not to pay too much credence to Deaver’s findings, Rudolf was able to get Deaver to admit that he hadn’t published any books or scholarly articles, that he hadn’t earned any advanced degrees. The blood spatter expert was put on the hot seat by both David Rudolf and Thomas Maher, and he was verbally assaulted for not having “scientifically valid” opinions.
The defense attorneys had already argued, unsuccessfully, that Deaver’s opinions should be thrown out. Now, with the agent on the witness stand, they would try to make his findings appear “unreliable.” Agent Deaver would be forced to justify each of his experiments step-by-step.
When Special Agent Duane Deaver was finally able to give his opinions to the jury, he pointed out that his blood spatter findings took a great deal of work. On December 9, 2001, Deaver had spent five hours analyzing the stairway, and he showed jurors his findings, using a model of the stairway in the Petersons’ home.
At the scene of a murder, bloodstains could literally point to the killer, and by analyzing their shape, size, and position, Deaver had been able to figure out, not only where the assailant stood, but also how many times he had swung the weapon. As gruesome as it was, Agent Deaver’s testimony moved forward. As the blood spatter marks began to fit into the crime scene like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle, the SBI agent’s testimony would captivate the courtroom.
This is the crux of what the jury learned:
1) Kathleen Peterson was assaulted in the stairwell by someone who was wielding a blunt object. Deaver cited a “cast-off” bloodstain on a wall nine feet above the stairwell to support that finding.
2) Kathleen Peterson was struck at least three times, and while her head may have struck the stairs when she fell at some point, there was evidence that the victim was beaten as she was standing. There was one bloodstain that indicated that her head was battered twenty-seven inches above the stairway. Deaver concluded that Kathleen Peterson was in “various positions” when the attack occurred.
3) Michael Peterson had to be standing or crouching near a blood source—either his bleeding wife or a pool of her blood—when a great force was applied. There were eight tiny drops of blood found on the inside of Peterson’s khaki shorts, and drops of blood were found on his Converse All Star sneakers as well. Agent Deaver explained that tiny specks of blood could only be created by someone using a great amount of force, that only when blood is projected forcefully, does it break into much smaller drops.
4) Evidence existed that someone had smeared blood in the stairwell, that luminol testing showed an effort to clean up, that one of the steps had been wiped clean. Luminol was a reagent that reacted with the iron found in hemoglobin. A widely used reagent, luminol could locate blood that had been diluted 12,000:1. Agent Deaver testified that there was evidence that the blood on Michael Peterson’s shorts was “diluted,” as if someone had tried to use water to wash the blood out.
5) Two of the steps in the stairwell contained bloodstains, transfer stains, made by something metal with a hook on the end. The blood marks had similar characteristics to the blow poke tool, the fireplace tool that could no longer be located in the Peterson house.
6) Deaver used bloody mops, wigs, and sponges to re-create the blood spatter patterns on the Petersons’ stairwell. He worked with an identical replica of the staircase, and he explained his findings in the courtroom, using the perfected miniature-scale model of the back staircase t
o point out the exact measurements of the blood on each step and riser.
7) There was no blood found in the mouth, nose, or nasal passages of Kathleen Peterson during her autopsy. Deaver’s opinion was “there was no mechanism for ex-pirated blood,” meaning there was no blood in Kathleen Peterson’s passageways to support the notion that she had coughed or sneezed any blood.
8) Deaver concluded that there were three “points of impact” that were made in space. His tests proved that blood spatter patterns on the walls in the stairwell could have only been created when Kathleen Peterson’s head was struck “in space,” not from hitting any surface. In order to trace the origin of the blood spatter, Deaver had used a common “stringing technique,” whereby he marked the walls with strings, to find out how far each blood source was from each wall.
9) There was “no significant alteration of bloodstains” in the area of the Peterson stairwell. In Deaver’s opinion, the “stairwell was in good condition,” the scene was not contaminated, and therefore an accurate investigation was possible.
10) There was blood evidence to support that Kathleen Peterson was beaten to death while she was standing, faceup, and facedown. Kathleen Peterson’s death was not consistent with a fall. The blood spatter expert had been able to trace back, from each bloodstain mark, exactly where the victim and assailant were standing when each blow was delivered. According to Deaver, the assailant stood outside the stairwell, and as Kathleen Peterson was on the twelfth step of an eighteen-step climb, the assailant began beating her with something like a fireplace tool.
Forty-eight
Jurors were sent home early, during lunch recess, on the day Duane Deaver’s testimony concluded, so that the attorneys from both sides could engage in a hearing. The defense team’s battle was a concerted effort, and they were good at presenting a united front. However, the attorneys for Michael Peterson had something horrible lurking: the relevance of the death of Elizabeth Ratliff.
A Perfect Husband Page 25