A Perfect Husband (32 page)

Many people who watched the trial had become armchair analysts. Among them were amateur observers, well-read attorneys, Court TV addicts, as well as members of the Peterson clan, who used obvious code names on message boards, who seemed to thrive on gossip and speculation. In the final days of the trial, a majority of these outside observers expressed an overwhelming opinion that Michael Peterson would be found not guilty. They seemed certain that Peterson would walk, that he would be acquitted.

The jurors held a press conference to talk about the verdict, claiming the Elizabeth Ratliff evidence had not influenced their decision. As for Henry Lee's testimony, jurors said it was “irrelevant.” When asked about the blow poke, jurors said they didn't know what the murder weapon was, but they were convinced that Michael Peterson had beaten his wife to death, using some kind of blunt object.

But jurors didn't know, nor did courtroom observers or Court TV junkies, about one of the most interesting details that was never presented during the case. People had no clue that DA Hardin had been contacted by a U.S. attorney about a recent sale out of Kennebunkport, Maine. The call was regarding the sale of two blow pokes....

 

 

 

Two years after Kathleen's death, long after the Peterson mansion was placed on the market, all of its contents having been picked over during a public auction, Kathleen's grave was well-kept with flowers, and someone had anonymously left a loving poem, entitled “If Tears Could Build a Stairway.” By the time Michael Peterson had turned sixty, he had begun serving his time in prison. He was happily teaching illiterate inmates how to read and write, and also giving television interviews proclaiming his innocence.

Then for some reason, out of the blue, members of Peterson's support group decided to propose a new theory to explain Kathleen's demise. Some people found it impossible that anyone would continue to fight for Peterson. Others felt Peterson's supporters were hanging on because of yet-to-be-disclosed book or movie deals, because of the continuing national TV coverage; the Michael Peterson story was ready to be aired on
Dateline NBC
, and there was an upcoming ABC documentary, a promising TV event to air as a three-part series.

Whatever the reason for the public outcry from Peterson supporters, the explanation they were offering, the new theory about how Kathleen Peterson died, was something that boggled the mind.

In a letter written to DA Jim Hardin on December 5, 2003, Larry Pollard, a respected attorney and former neighbor of Michael Peterson's, suggested that the murder case be reopened. Pollard, along with Nick Galfianakis, another respected attorney in Durham society, were spreading the word that the deep gashes to the back of Kathleen Peterson's head had been caused by the talons of an owl.

The letter mentioned owl attacks, stating that the neighbors had seen “owls hunt at night.” The letter gave eleven “points of evidence” that supported the theory of an “owl strike,” noting that the number and shape of the wounds to Kathleen's head were consistent with talon marks.

“We have owls in our neighborhood that have been out there for years,” Pollard wrote, “and were indeed out there, on the night Kathleen Peterson was found dead.” Larry Pollard told the district attorney that the reopening of the investigation regarding Kathleen's death was “morally, legally, and ethically, the right thing to do.”

Jim Hardin sent a reply to the letter, stating firmly, and politely, that the owl theory was “not credible.” To the
Herald-Sun
, Hardin would not only squelch the validity of the theory, the DA would call the owl attack concept “one of the most ridiculous things I've ever heard.”

Unexpectedly, the hardworking prosecutor had been named one of the top “Ten Lawyers of the Year” by
Lawyers Weekly USA.
The esteemed publication gave Hardin the nod, specifically because of his brilliant and undeterred work in the five-month trial against Michael Peterson.

Nick Galifianakis would tell
Herald-Sun
reporters that the “owl theory” was not going to go away. He hoped to try to convince a judge to exhume Kathleen Peterson's body, to test her scalp for “owl DNA.” Both Galifianakis and Pollard were planning to file a “motion of appropriate relief.” They would claim that, if their owl theory could gain the attention of a local judge, theoretically, a new trial could be ordered for Michael Peterson.

In courthouse circles, the owl theory drew grins from people. Certain skeptics would speculate about mysterious owls, pointing out that there were no owl feathers, no path of blood left behind. Others would call wildlife experts to discover that owls had rarely been known to attack humans. Any rare attacks that did occur happened only during nesting season, in the spring and summer months.

When the owl theory became public, Caitlin Atwater was not quite as angry as other members of the family. She found a moment of humor in it, and took it in stride, unlike her aunt Candace, who had written a scathing letter to the
Herald-Sun
, furious that the paper would dignify such nonsense by printing stories about an owl.

“No bird, animal, reptile, or alien from outer space attacked my sister,” Candace wrote. “A man, not an owl, flew across the Atlantic and is tied to the awful deaths of two dearly missed women.

“Please do not dignify any further efforts to try to portray what happened to my sister as anything other than cruel murder,” Candace insisted. “Please use your journalistic influence to support solutions and safe havens for women who suffer from domestic violence.”

Caitlin might have still been too young to understand the harsh reality of her existence. She had never seen Michael hit her mother; she didn't really want to think about it. She had known him to throw temper tantrums, had watched Michael once hit Margaret with a camera case—it was a swipe he took at Margaret Ratliff—really, no big deal. It was something Michael would do, just strike out for little reasons, for stupid things, but he wouldn't really physically hurt anyone. It was more like an attempt to humiliate someone....

Of course Caitlin was a survivor. She would find the strength to carry on. She still had Fred's shoulders to lean on, as well as her aunts, uncles, and cousins. And Caitlin still had her friends, plus her schoolwork at Cornell. She believed in herself and was determined to succeed, to make her mom
proud.
She would no longer speak to her former brothers and sisters, who had mocked her during the trial, who had taken a wrong turn somewhere. Clayton, Todd, and the Ratliff girls still believed in Michael's story and protested his innocence to the media. The brothers and sisters she once had were forever gone from her life. She hoped that one day they would find truth, that they would open their hearts and minds.

In a hearing before Judge Hudson, in January 2004, Caitlin Atwater won a victory regarding her civil lawsuit: the criminal judgment against Michael Peterson would be binding in her wrongful-death suit. For the pain and suffering Michael had caused her mother, for taking her mom's life, Caitlin would be awarded monetary damages. The amount would be determined at a later date. However, Thomas Maher had taken over as counsel for Peterson's appeal, and Maher would argue to the court that if he was able to get the murder verdict overturned, the acquittal might negate the civil ruling as well.

For all it might be worth, Caitlin would have to wait for Michael's lengthy appeal process to come to an end before she could collect any compensation whatsoever. And as it happened, Michael Peterson had already filed a request to be declared “indigent.” Because that request had been granted, Caitlin stood to gain no compensation directly from him, but she still would be entitled to the proceeds from her mother's $1.45 million life insurance policy.

Caitlin would not let herself become upset by any court ruling, by a crazy owl story, or by her stepdad's mockery of the legal system. She wanted to remember the good times, the times when she played as a child in the wooded neighborhood of Forest Hills. She recalled many happy times, growing up in the Peterson house, and told a funny story about a night when a bat flew over her head. It happened back in the summer of 2000, when she felt something swoop over her ear in the middle of the night.

Caitlin had run over to Margaret and Martha's room, and the three girls were freaking out, running all over the house, realizing that bats were flying all around them. They laughed about it later, but at the time they were frightened, finding bats everywhere—in the hallway, on the stairs. The creatures seemed to be coming in through the vents. She recalled Michael catching a few bats in a shoe box and taking them outside. She remembered how zany she and her sisters felt; they had huddled together in one room and had put towels under the doorway, hoping that no dark-winged attacker could possibly squeeze through.

The next morning, when the exterminator arrived to find that the Petersons had a whole bat colony living in their attic, no one could believe it. The family was told that the creatures had built-in radar systems, and, unless the entire house was evacuated and exterminated, the bats would keep flying back.

Caitlin would look back on it and remember her mother's laughter. She recalled the jokes they all made about their crazy family, about having bats in their belfry. It seemed like an eternity had passed since that hot summer day, when a colony of bats, like the evil that lurked in the Peterson mansion, could no longer call the place home.