Amerithrax (58 page)
“To the best of our knowledge, there isn’t any Greendale School,” Glasberg said. “There is a subdivision near Harare called Greendale, but there are Greendales everywhere.” The Harare suburb of Greendale was an upper-middle-class neighborhood and had a Greendale grade school. He denied that Hatfill was disgruntled at losing his security clearance. At the Institute Hatfill never had nor needed security clear- ance, according to Dasey. Virtually none of Hatfill’s work at SAIC required a clearance, Glasberg said, but the com- pany used its revocation as a reason to fire Hatfill. He said the company has since offered Hatfill settlement payments, which he rejected, and more work, which he accepted.
Once more the FBI stated it had nothing to indicate that Dr. Hatfill was anywhere near Trenton, New Jersey, where the anthrax letters were mailed. Dr. Hatfill had called a press
On Dangerous Ground
AS
it approached 1:00 p.m., starting time for the press con- ference, the crowd filling the street shuffled their feet. They looked about or skimmed their Sunday papers as they waited. The
Times
said Hatfill had surfaced “several months ago.” Other papers ran bits and pieces: “Hatfill has been focused on because of his background in biochemistry... Flamboyant and arrogant, with a penchant for exaggerating his achievements... Politics: for years complained that U.S. wasn’t doing enough to prepare for a bioattack... feared his warnings weren’t being heeded... wanted to prod the country into action... the forty-eight-year-old was not a criminal suspect, but ‘a person of interest.’”
Pat Clawson took the microphone. “You’re going to have an opportunity in just a couple of minutes to meet a distin- guished American scientist and a great patriot, Mr. Steven Hatfill,” he said with fervor. “He will make a brief statement to various media. He will not be taking any questions. His attorney, however, will be taking questions. I request that we try to treat this proceeding with some dignity and some decorum. Obviously, this is a story of tremendous national interest. Right now for the first time, the American people are going to get to see the man that I have known for the last six years, a man who is a tremendous scientist, a man
In the sweltering heat, Dr. Steven J. Hatfill took to the steps in front of his lawyer’s brick-red office in Alexandria, Virginia, suburban Washington. It was Sunday, August 11, 2002, and a mob of reporters and the curious, among them FBI agents, had come to see the “person of interest.” Hatfill was appearing publicly for the first time. If he thought the coverage of the search of his apartment had been a media circus, this was the real thing—helicopters and television cameras, satellite TV trucks, scores of reporters and photog- raphers. Every word he uttered would be carried on hun- dreds of stations nationwide and printed in every paper.
The sun fell from his right, glinting on an American flag pin on his lapel. He was attired in a dark suit and blue shirt. The strong light emphasized the angles in his face; the lines on either side of his mouth were cut sharp. In profile, his short brown hair seemed lifeless. His chin, thrust out defi- antly, was as strong as the brick building behind him. His beefy face was broad, wide as an Iowa field. His whole build, in fact, was expansive and possessed the same mus- cular squareness as Tom Ridge’s. The two men looked, in many ways, very similar. Hatfill’s nose was well formed, but pointed in profile. There were the accents of small moles on his face and thick neck. He was clean-shaven and no longer wore his trademark brown mustache. Now it was his chin that dominated the intelligent face. His brows were knitted. The lowered brows overshadowed dark eyes under- scored by circles, eyes that were gunsights as they surveyed the battalion of cameras. Who could blame him for his an- ger? As with Richard Jewell, his case had been tried in the press. Hatfill would use the media too.
Hatfill came out swinging. He was not going to answer any questions afterward. He strode to a battalion of micro- phones and prepared to speak to a live national audience. He took out two typed pages. Tense, speaking in strained tones, but well composed, Hatfill began to read his state- ment. He was angry and sympathetic at turns as he spoke of “outrageous official statements and calculated leaks to the
The statement composed by Dr. Hatfill, bioweapons expert under scrutiny for the anthrax attacks, began like this: “Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. My name is Steve Hatfill,” he said, his voice reedy. For many of the journalists this was the first time they had put a face with the name. “I’m a medical doctor and a biomedical scientist. I am a loyal American, and I love my country. I have had nothing to do in any way, shape, or form with the mailing of these anthrax letters, and it is extremely wrong for anyone
to contend or suggest that I have.”
Ardently, Dr. Hatfill told the assembly how he had de- voted his professional career to safeguarding men, women, and children from the ravages of infectious disease. He was proud that he had protected the nation against the scourge of offensive biological warfare. Pride showed in his eyes.
“I am appalled at the terrible acts of biological terrorism that have caused death, disease and havoc in this great coun- try starting last fall. But I am just as appalled that my ex- perience, knowledge, dedication, and service relative to defending the United States against biological warfare has been turned against me in connection with the search for the anthrax killer.”
He explained how last fall two FBI investigators had dropped by his office. Hatfill had considered his brief inter- view with them to be congenial, with the agents explaining that polygraphs were being conducted on a wide range of scientists in connection with the anthrax letter investigation. When asked if he would consent to a polygraph concerning this incident, Dr. Hatfill said he readily agreed. Later, he had gone down to the Washington field office where an onsite polygraph was administered.
“After reviewing the polygraph charts in private,” Hatfill told the press, “the polygraph examiner told me that I had passed and that he believed I had nothing to do with the anthrax letters. The FBI told me they believed I had nothing to do with this incident of terrorism. In due course, follow- ing an additional debriefing, the FBI confirmed to me and
to my former counsel, Tom Carter, that I was not a suspect in this case.”
Hatfill told the press that at this point he had assumed that his involvement in the investigation had been com- pleted. In February, he received a phone call from a reporter “all but accusing me of mailing the anthrax letters.” Because the journalist had wanted to know precise details about a classified project on which Hatfill had previously worked, he hung the phone up on him in mid-sentence and reported the conversation to his supervisor as an improper solicitation of classified information. Two days later, Hatfill was in- formed by a former medical school colleague that the re- porter had phoned him too.
“He all but accused me of mailing the anthrax letters,” Hatfill told the throng with feeling, claiming that this same journalist afterward telephoned his employer, Science Ap- plications International Corporation, and that shortly thereafter SAIC had laid him off.
Hatfill had been devastated by the loss of his job in March, although he stated he could understand why it oc- curred. After SAIC, he accepted a job with Louisiana State University to work with a consortium group of universities on important federally and Justice-funded programs for bi- ological warfare defense. Ironically, Dr. Hatfill was called back to SAIC on numerous occasions to assist with projects he had started as well as to assist with new projects. SAIC eventually had to contract for his continued services through LSU.
“According to the
Frederick News-Post
of June 27, 2002,” Dr. Hatfill continued, “...a woman named Barbara Hatch Rosenberg, who affiliates herself with the Federation of American Scientists, saw fit to discuss me as a suspect in the anthrax case in a meeting with FBI agents and Senate staffers. I don’t know Dr. Rosenberg. I have never met her, I have never spoken or corresponded with this woman. And to my knowledge, she is ignorant of my work and back- ground except in the very broadest of terms. The only thing I know about her views is that she and I apparently differ on whether the United States should sign on to a proposed modification of the international biological weapons con-
As Hatfill spoke his right finger would dart out. He em- phasized important points with a jab. He raised his chin skyward and pointed his finger to the heavens. He had done his share of public speaking. Obviously, he was deeply moved and had given his comments considerable thought. Originally, his speech had been much longer, but in the light of recent events he had shortened it. He said, in discussing Dr. Rosenberg, that within a few days after her reported comments in Congress, the FBI had come to his home again, requesting to look at his apartment and swab the walls for anthrax spores. This request surprised Hatfill. He knew that anthrax is a deadly inhalational disease. While previously working at Building 1412 at Fort Detrick he had, like many researchers there, gotten a limited number of anthrax vac- cinations. Hatfill stated that a yearly booster was required to maintain immunity, and that he had last been inoculated be- ginning in 1999.
“Since December 2000,” he said, “I am as susceptible to anthrax as any of you. So I was surprised at the notion that I might have brought anthrax to my home, and would have been even amused if it was not for the fact that this matter is so grave and serious. In addition, I have two cleaning ladies with their own keys that come and go and clean. I don’t know when they come there, just that things look a lot better when they leave.”
Dr. Hatfill not only agreed to sign a release for a search of his apartment, but volunteered searches of his car and a small, unrefrigerated storage area in Florida where he kept some books, a few original paintings, and some other per- sonal effects. Some news reports had maintained that the unit had been refrigerated. He told the journalists that agents had assured him that the search would be “quiet, private, and very low-key.” The reality had been considerably dif- ferent. Within minutes of his signing, helicopters churned the air above his apartment block and overhead television cameras and satellite TV trucks were broadcasting. He told
“Responding to my surprise and dismay,” Hatfill told the reporters, “the agent-in-charge apologized to me, saying that the request for this swabbing and search had come from very, very high up. A written and televised media frenzy ensued and continues, with journalists, columnists and oth- ers writing, stating and repeating combinations of defama- tory speculation, innuendo, and other accusations about me. Several have urged the FBI to step up its investigation of me. And indeed, last week, the FBI executed a search war- rant on my residence. This happened one day after my at- torneys had left a message on the lead FBI investigator’s voice mail confirming my continued readiness to answer questions and otherwise cooperate. My girlfriend’s home was also searched. She was manhandled by the FBI upon their entry, not immediately shown the search warrant. Her apartment was wrecked, while FBI agents screamed at her that I had killed five people and that her life would never be the same again. She was terrified by their conduct, put into isolation for interrogation for eight hours. I was horri- fied. The search was another media event.”
Dr. Hatfill told how the very next day he was placed on paid leave from his new job at LSU. Naturally, this was painful to him, though he said once again how he understood the circumstances in which his employers had found them- selves in light of the actions taken against him. As a scientist in the field of biological warfare defense, he stated he had never had any reservation about aiding the anthrax investi- gation in any way he could. He said that he was happy to be of assistance, as part of the price that scientists in the field of biodefense are glad to pay, a price more than offset by the satisfaction they had gained in doing work that they believed was important to the security of the country. Next, he remade an important point.
