Beautifully Cruel

by M. William Phelps

  Here, during the DCI interview, she said she wasn’t.

  She claimed that her ear was bothering her on the right side after firing the weapon so close to it.

  She never complained of this to her doctors.

  When Moser brought up Dr. Pitman and the “lengthy custody issue,” Tracey played it down, saying, “Um . . . I . . . we had . . . I had thought it was resolved and taken care of about a year ago . . .”

  It was actually in the process of being decided by a court. Tracey knew she was going to lose.

  Moser asked: “Is there anything that would lead you to believe that this incident is related to your ex-husband?”

  “If Dustin wasn’t involved and there were two strangers, I would say, ‘Yeah,’ that would’ve been my first thought. But because they’re someone local . . . I would say no.”

  Then Tracey accused the dentist, Dr. Kellner, of possibly being behind the home invasion. She said he was still really pissed off about the lawsuit and made a “very clear threat.”

  Part of her introducing new suspects into the narrative, a source in law enforcement later explained, was because Tracey realized by this time that no one was busting down Pitman’s door to arrest him on conspiracy charges. So that meant the journal was being scrutinized and perhaps not believed. She needed to lay out a second story, with another suspect.

  Tracey had told law enforcement already that Dustin had been over to the house maybe two or three times. She gave the impression that she barely knew him, that Dustin went paintballing with Michael and was Michael’s “friend.” Here, though, to Dan Moser, she said Dustin had been to the house “at least a dozen times.”

  When SA Trent Vileta went back and read this interview, he found several things that unnerved him, saying, “Look, everything is wrong with her DCI statement to Moser. She eliminates the third guy entirely. She says she is afraid of guns. She gives great detail as to how everything occurred, which allows us to do crime scene re-creation. She says she looks at the face of the second intruder. The second interview is absolutely a statement analysis guy’s dream.”

  How bad had Tracey fumbled her second interview?

  “Today, I use that statement to train new agents on what to look for when people lie,” Trent concluded.

  61

  THROUGHOUT THE NEXT SEVERAL DAYS, DCI and the SCSO collected information about (and looked into the backgrounds of) Tracey, Michael, Dr. John Pitman, Steve Komie, and many of the suspects that arose during the course of the investigation. But none of the information they found led anywhere; every suspect’s alibi checked out. And yet, at the same time, whenever they chased a rabbit into a dirty hole and grabbed her by the fur, investigators found Tracey Roberts’s footprints in the mud, a crime she had committed in her past, and the lies she had told. Her story was evolving, changing each time she opened her mouth.

  DCI and the SCSO wanted to interview Bert a second time. See how his story would now compare to that first night. They had a lot more information to go on.

  There was only one problem, however.

  The Roberts family left for a planned vacation to Australia on December 18, 2001, a SCSO report noted. Tracey had Bert all to herself for what DCI were told would be “several weeks.”

  According to Ben Smith, “Tracey knew that soon after she murdered Dustin, the family would be leaving for Australia for an extended family vacation.... Tracey and Bert, the only two with any appreciable knowledge of what happened (and did not happen), were thousands of miles away from an ongoing murder investigation and the custody case with Pitman. She . . . beat her story into Bert’s head. After the family returned, during his child forensic interview . . . on February 12, 2002, Bert adopted Tracey’s story in total, near identical detail.”

  In comparing the first two versions Bert gave for the night of the incident, not only was his story different from what he previously told Lieutenant Cessford, “but he sounds like he is reading it from a script,” Ben added.

  * * *

  While the Robertses were in Australia, SCSO investigator Dan Bruscher spoke with Mona. She had called and said she wanted to talk to someone about the case. There was a piece of information she needed to share. The previous day, Bruscher had been over to Mona’s talking about a gas receipt she had found inside Dustin’s car, along with an address book (both meaningless). But this new information had nothing to do with that, Mona made clear.

  As Bruscher stood with Mona in her kitchen, he noticed how passive and rather shaken she seemed. Something was wrong. “What is it?” Bruscher said.

  “Jeremy Collins,” Mona said. Jeremy was the frozen-food deliveryman whose number was on the Wehde caller ID on the day of Dustin’s murder. “I’m concerned that he may have been involved with Dustin.”

  “Why?”

  Mona was in a fragile emotional state, shattered and crying. “I just broke up with him,” Mona admitted. “We were having an affair.”

  PART 3

  GAME OF TRUST

  62

  EARLY IN 2002, TRACEY ROBERTS invited her good friend, Mary Higgins, over to the house for coffee. Tracey wanted to have a chat. She had just returned from Australia—and was desperate to find out what was going on in town with the case. By now, Tracey must have realized her plan had backfired. Perhaps she expected to return from Australia to find Dr. Pitman in jail facing conspiracy charges.

  But that didn’t happen.

  Mary and Tracey had met for the first time not long after Tracey and Michael moved into town. They were fairly close friends. The one thing Mary later recalled about Tracey was an obsession she had with locking doors.

  On the night of the killing, Mary was in Des Moines at a Christmas party. She had borrowed a pair of boots from Tracey to wear to that party.

  As they talked over coffee, Tracey got into what happened at the house. It seemed like she wanted tell Mary all about it, saying, “Bert was going over to the office to play computer games and I left the door unlocked. I wanted him to be able to come back and forth to get snacks.”

  Here was yet another new piece of the night.

  Next, Tracey went into what happened. Mary sat, sipping her coffee, listening.

  “There was a big guy and a little guy, and the big guy had, like, a stocking mask on,” Tracey said.

  Mary didn’t know it, but Tracey had just contradicted herself again. This was the first time Tracey had ever mentioned a mask.

  “I asked them,” Tracey explained, “‘What are you doing?’ And they replied, ‘You know—we’re here to get you!’”

  As she continued, Tracey added other details: “There were two times when I passed out. And in one instance, I saw the little guy carrying something down the stairs in his arms . . . and I thought it must have been [Cassie].”

  Tracey continued to talk about the events: the gun not firing right away, the struggle in the hallway, how she could hear the man on the ground, after she fired, breathing. As she talked, Bert walked in and sat with them. As Bert took a seat at the table, Tracey was explaining how she was downstairs with the kids, but then decided to go back upstairs, again contradicting just about every other version she had told. When she got to the point where she told Mary how she went back up the stairs, gun in hand, Bert began banging his head against the table. Not to hurt himself, but more as away to express his frustration.

  He was “extremely agitated,” Mary later testified, “upset.”

  “Why did you go back up there? Why did you go back up there?” Bert asked repeatedly, banging his head. “You didn’t have to shoot him,” he added, raising his voice. “You didn’t have to kill him!”

  Tracey turned to her son and screamed: “Bert!”

  Bert got up and left the room.

  Mary decided to change subjects: “Was anything taken, Tracey?”

  “An old computer . . . and in the car, next to the computer, was a pink spiral notebook.”

  “Really?” Mary said.

  “Yeah, the police told
me.”

  Tracey then proceeded to explain everything—in great detail—written inside the notebook ( journal)—even though no one in law enforcement had ever shared this information with anyone.

  63

  MICHAEL ROBERTS WAS BEING LOOKED at by DCI and the SCSO as a potential suspect. How could he not be? The husband goes off on a business trip and the wife is attacked inside their home.

  They decided on a lie detector test. That would rule Michael in or out quickly, at least in the opinion of law enforcement. Get him to take a polygraph and they could gauge whether he was telling the truth about not having had anything to do with what happened. The idea that Dr. Pitman was behind it all was ridiculous, law enforcement knew, even though Dustin had written as much in the journal. The better scenario, most agreed, was Michael Roberts (or somebody else) making it appear as though Pitman and his attorney were involved. Michael, after all, knew Dustin and spent time with him.

  Bruscher and Moser approached Michael on February 7, 2002: “We’d like to set up a polygraph.”

  Michael looked at the two of them. He wasn’t all that surprised. They had been asking lots of questions, subpoenaing records, sniffing around. Maybe it was time to rule him out entirely, so they could focus on who had actually tried to kill his wife.

  “Okay,” Michael agreed.

  They set it up for February 13.

  The next day, Michael called Bruscher: “Hey, listen, I am concerned about the polygraphist having a quota of a certain amount of confessions to fill.” It was clear Michael had been talking to someone. “Can we use an independent examiner?”

  “Michael, come on. No need to worry about quotas. There’s nothing going on like that.”

  “Can you send me the examiner’s qualifications?”

  “Let me discuss it with Moser and get back to you.”

  Some time went by and Moser called Michael, reassuring him that the test was on the level. There was nothing he had to worry about, besides telling the truth.

  Michael agreed to go ahead with it.

  That same day, Bruscher interviewed a man in town who had come forward to say he had some information that might be helpful.

  “I am sure I saw Michael Roberts in the bank in Early on the morning of December 13, 2001,” the man said.

  This wasn’t some street person looking to trade off on a felony; the guy was a doctor. Here was a credible witness claiming Michael Roberts was in town on the day his wife was attacked inside their home.

  64

  ON FEBRUARY 13, 2002, MICHAEL Roberts arrived in Storm Lake to take a polygraph at the sheriff’s office. DCI SA and polygraphist Don Shreffler and SA Dan Moser were on hand. Dennis Cessford was on his way. The plan was to give Michael the polygraph, study the results, and then conduct a more formal interview with him.

  After a short pretest interview, the questions—at least those that mattered—thrown at Michael were direct: “Did you help or plan with anyone to try and assault your wife on December 13, 2001?”

  “No,” Michael stated.

  “Did you help or plan with anyone to break into your home on December 13, 2001?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know . . . who the second person is who broke into your home on December 13, 2001?”

  “No.”

  After Don Shreffler was finished calculating the test responses, he broke the news to Moser and Cessford.

  The result was that Michael failed, a report of that conversation noted.

  According to a DCI polygraph test boasting an accuracy rate of 99 percent, Michael Roberts was lying.

  Cessford and Moser sat down with Michael.

  “Can you offer any explanation as to why a polygraph examination you have just completed indicated that you were ninety-nine percent deceptive on relevant questions?” Cessford asked.

  Michael looked at them. He couldn’t believe it. “I spoke the truth,” he said. “You’re just trying to freak me out here, saying I failed, right?”

  “Wrong, Michael.”

  “I am flabbergasted by these results,” Michael added.

  “We need you to share with us any knowledge that you have of what happened inside your home on December thirteenth.”

  “I have nothing to share . . . I did nothing.”

  They then questioned Michael about Dustin and if maybe Michael had shared with Dustin anything about Tracey’s first marriage to Dr. Pitman. Of course, Michael didn’t know it (unless he had Dustin write the journal), but they were getting into the contents of the pink notebook.

  Michael claimed to have said “very minimal things . . . [nothing] too specific.”

  “What, exactly?” Cessford asked.

  “I don’t know. But I can say that I would not have painted a pretty picture of [Tracey’s marriage to Pitman],” Michael added. Then he said Mona had worked for him. The files pertaining to Tracey’s divorce were stored in the office where Mona sat. She could have read them. She could have shared that information with Dustin.

  There seemed to be a point during the interview when Michael felt that maybe they were trying to say he convinced Dustin to kill Tracey, that he might have mentored Dustin into becoming his assassin. Was that the reason behind the paintball trips?

  “The only thing I offered Dustin was friendship,” Michael responded, defending himself. He explained the paintball excursions, adding he had been telling the truth all along: “The only thing I am guilty of is not following up on my friendship with Dustin. I have not committed any wrongs!”

  “What about the polygraph results?”

  “Look, I don’t deny the readings—but I do deny the reliability,” Michael said.

  After several more questions about what he thought might have happened inside the house, Michael said: “I don’t know for sure there were two intruders in the house [that night]. But my wife says there were.” He seemed confused, like everyone else, about this fact.

  “Why did that reward poster have the wrong date?” Cessford wanted to know. Had the poster been made before the attack because Michael knew the attack would take place?

  “I know the date was wrong. I corrected that before a majority of the posters were put up, after someone pointed it out. I made that poster the day after the incident—not before.”

  “Can you tell us about any life insurance policies you might have?”

  “Those don’t go into effect until December 2002. . . .”

  Michael then talked about trying to sell the business the previous year, which turned into a discussion about his company and how deep into financial ruin it was. He admitted that he had failed the business on many levels.

  None of it, however, was a reason to have his wife killed.

  They asked about Dr. Pitman, if there was a rivalry there that could have led to maybe Michael wanting to get back at him. You know, set Pitman up for a fall.

  “No,” he said. “I never planned to do anything against the interest of John Pitman.”

  They talked about the domestic incident between Michael and Tracey.

  “That was a turning point in my marriage,” Michael explained. “I have been nothing but positive about the marriage since then.”

  The conversation turned back to Pitman. Michael said he’d gone round and round with who could have put Dustin up to the crime, and Michael did not think Dr. Pitman was behind it. “I’ve dismissed that idea,” he added. “Any effort to do that would cause him to lose too much.... It wouldn’t be worth the risk for him. And the dentist . . . he would have no reason to strike at Tracey because that situation has been taken care of. . . .”

  After a few more questions, “Anything else you can add?”

  “If John Pitman was somehow involved in this,” Michael concluded, “I could not see any plan he would have that would include Dustin Wehde in the picture.”

  It was clear Michael had no idea what was inside that pink notebook.

  Michael left. Two days later, he called Cessford: “Tracey is really ups
et . . . because you are wasting your time accusing me when she knows I had nothing to do with it.”

  That same day, Anna Richter called. She said her daughter was “on the verge of a breakdown,” according to Cessford’s report: She feels you’re looking in the wrong direction. John Pitman is an evil man and could very well be behind this incident.

  Moser called Tracey and explained how they were just doing their jobs, adding, “Why don’t you come in, and we can work on a composite drawing of the second guy.”

  Tracey agreed.

  65

  ONE WEEK LATER, ON THE day Tracey was scheduled to assist investigators with a composite drawing of the supposed second intruder, she didn’t show up. Moser called the house to see what was going on.

  “She left for her parents’,” Michael said.

  “She’s supposed to be here.”

  “Well, she’s on her way there.”

  Moser thought it strange she would cancel without calling.

  Then, not too long after speaking with Michael, Bernard Richter, Tracey’s father, called the Sioux City Police Department, where Tracey was supposed to meet with the artist.

  “Upon my recommendation,” Bernard explained, “I advised my daughter not to go.”

  Bernard was a former Chicago detective. They all knew this. He was likely the person advising Michael and Tracey behind the scenes, coaching them with the decisions they were making regarding law enforcement.

  “Why not?” the cop asked.

  “I directed her not to participate because it has been my past experience as a former officer with the Chicago Police Department that composites, many times, cause conflicts in courtroom situations.”

  A report of the conversation further indicated that Bernard was under the impression composites were “historically unreliable” and provided “the defense with loopholes.”

  Though, in the totality of the situation, one might proffer a guess that without finding that defendant in the first place, there would be no potential loopholes to jump through.