Obsession (43 page)

It is especially true in this particular crime category, because domestic abusers—including those who end up stalking their partners—often reveal their personality defects in subtle ways that don’t set off warning buzzers. The future victim may be completely unaware of what she is getting into at first. The abuser can be so manipulative and cunning, the behavior so insidious, that she may not realize what is going on until she is enmeshed in a potentially dangerous relationship.

Before any physical and/or emotional abuse begins,
the offender may first appear attentive, which soon reveals itself as truly more possessive and jealous than caring. He tries to control aspects of his mate or girlfriend’s life—from picking out her clothing to trying to limit the time she spends away from him. An abusive husband or boyfriend may humiliate his victim, criticizing her appearance, downplaying her skills as a home-maker, mother, student, successful professional—whatever role she holds within and outside their relationship that gives her a sense of self-worth. He has the most strength if he can keep her off-balance, and playing mind games is one way he does this.

His most successful game involves switching moods: loving and tender one moment, angry and violent the next. His partner never knows whom she’s dealing with, and while she fears and loathes the one side of his behavior, she cares for the other and thrives under his attention.

To increase his control over his partner, the abuser will try to put his victim in a situation where she is economically dependent on him. And if a child is involved, this makes it even easier for him to keep her under control as she may not feel able to support herself and her child on her own. She may also be afraid that if she leaves, he will get custody of—or outright kidnap—her children and she will never see them or be able to protect them from him again. There have even been cases where terrified mothers have escaped to a community “safe house,” only to have the court force her to reveal her location when her husband sues for visitation rights. Thus, the same court system that a victim of domestic violence may turn to for protection has also been used by her abuser/stalker to exercise further control over her and maintain his presence in her life even after she’s physically fled their home. Sadly, it is easy enough to see why some women, lacking the financial resources to fight what
seems to them an endless legal war, either give up and return to face more abuse or disappear underground in desperation, giving up jobs, family, and friends.

As an abusive relationship continues, the offender grows increasingly critical of her friends and family, more and more jealous and controlling of the time she spends away from him. She may get to the point where she feels it’s not worth the fight to see others, and if he has beaten her and the marks are visible, she may be too embarrassed to see them. There are cases where abusers force their victims to keep records of every minute of their day, check the mileage on the car, count the change in their purses—micromanaging every aspect of their lives and wearing them down completely.

In these cases, stalking and surveillance activities are already part of the domestic abuser’s routine, his control and domination of his partner, much as Richard Farley’s stalking of Laura Black was, to his way of thinking, a battle of wills that he was desperate to win. And just as Farley noted his frustration (as well as his “love”) in his letters to Black, these abusers may well recognize their anger even if they can’t admit to their inadequacy. Like Farley, they will not acknowledge the true reason for their dependence on this relationship—or that they are in a position of dependence at all—but will project any blame for their actions on their victim. They may see their need to control as either their duty as a “good” husband or their right. In the man’s mind, violence occurs not because he is unable to cope with his emotions and lacks self-control, but because the victim did something wrong, something to set him off.

In one horrific example, as a Fort Worth man stabbed his wife to death in front of their two children, ages twelve and sixteen, he told her, “You did this to
yourself.” His rationale was that she and the children had started eating without him.

Before you shout, “This guy is nuts!” note that he held a responsible position as a computer specialist with the Federal Aviation Administration. This was probably not the first time he’d assaulted his wife, and I’m sure it was not the only time he found a way to justify his actions to himself.

As Gavin de Becker writes, “Why are we fascinated when a famous person is attacked by a stalker, which happens once every two or three years, yet uninterested when a woman is killed by a stalking husband or boyfriend, which happens once every two hours? Why does America have thousands of suicide prevention centers and not one homicide prevention center?”

When a woman escapes such a relationship, the abuser may rationalize his subsequent stalking behavior as either efforts to win her back—often trying first the charming, flowers-and-candy routine he used to win her the first time, like the gifts Richard Farley left for Laura Black—or as punishment she deserves for leaving him and treating him so unfairly. In his mind, she’s his wife, and she’d better start acting like it.

The sexual sadist-killer of Ontario, Canada, Paul Bernardo, whose case we recounted in
Journey into Darkness
, treated his wife, Karla Homolka, in just such a fashion. She had to do all the work, accede to him sexually and in every other way, and submit to his beatings whenever he felt she deserved it. Even worse, he expected her to be a partner in rapes and murders, even the crime that led to the death of her sister, Tammy. Karla became his physical possession. When you think about it, if the abuser needs to make his victim even lower than himself, and he’s a completely inadequate person, then his victim has to assume a subhuman role. She goes from being wife to property.

All of the abuser’s personality defects and pathological rationalizations combine to make conditions extremely dangerous for a woman when she leaves a man like this. Overwhelmed with his own inadequacy and impotence, his emotions at that point also include rage that she would reject him and try to assert control, fear that he’s been abandoned, and the drive for revenge. Threatened with losing the only aspect of his life that makes him feel powerful and in control, the abuser grows desperate. These are the cases where we hear variations on the practically stock phrase “If I can’t have her, nobody will.”

And statistics show that the most dangerous point in these situations is when the abused partner makes an effort to leave the relationship—whether they’ve been through this cycle together over a twenty-year marriage or a two-month dating courtship. The FBI’s 1990 Uniform Crime Reports estimated that 30 percent of the female victims of homicide that year were killed by an intimate partner. Consider that along with the fact that victims of domestic violence who try to leave their abuser have a greater risk of being murdered by their spouse/partner, and you can see why it’s critical that we recognize these potentially dangerous individuals early.

This brings us to the same good news/bad news scenario we have with the love-obsession stalker. The good news is that these guys tend to follow a basic pattern or cycle, and as with other types of offenders, if we know what we’re looking for, we can predict the level of threat they represent to a potential victim. The bad news is that just as no one can predict when a love-obsession stalker will pass through specific stages in the cycle, or what behaviors he will exhibit in each, it is difficult to predict what a simple obsession stalker will do at any given moment. In many tragic cases, friends, family members, neighbors, co-workers
tell investigators after a victim’s been killed, “I knew he would kill her one of these days.” Nicole Brown Simpson reportedly predicted she would die at the hands of her still-possessive ex-husband, O.J.

As public awareness of domestic violence and stalking grows—and as we get better legislation and more realistic sentencing guidelines to deal with these crimes—it’s my hope that we’ll more often take action
before
the victim is killed.

We can predict that the simple obsession stalker will run through the same basic pattern of behavior as the love-obsession stalker, beginning with the early stage where he tries to win his victim back using the flowers-and-charm routine. The next stage, intimidation, is reminiscent of the jealous, overly possessive and inappropriate behavior that led the victim to leave the relationship.

Like the love-obsession stalker, as the simple obsession stalker grows more frustrated by what he perceives as his victim’s unwillingness to give him what he needs, he becomes increasingly harassing and threatening, in keeping with the abusive behavior he’s accustomed to inflicting.

As David Beatty puts it, “The only thing that’s changed is that the victim has inconveniently been removed from a venue where the offender can easily pursue and beat her in a physical fashion. He doesn’t have the luxury of being able to just go across the room and commit violent acts and so is forced to create new tactics to do the same thing.” The offender’s motivation and behavior is the same as it was before, only the specific strategies are different.

If the victim tries to permanently remove him from her life at this stage he may become violent in a last-ditch effort to reassert his control over their relationship. Laura Black’s seeking a permanent restraining order against Richard Farley was just such a trigger.
Think of all the cases you’ve read about where an unhappy, abuse-haunted marriage ends in a murder-suicide after the wife tries to move out or get a court order to keep her husband away from her and their children.

And simple obsession stalkings don’t only happen to people who’ve been suffering in an emotionally and/or physically abusive relationship for years. It can be just as tragic when a victim spots the warning signs, acts on her growing awareness of danger early, and is still unable to save herself.

In 1982, twenty-two-year-old Dominique Dunne seemed to have it all. The daughter of writer and producer Dominick Dunne and Ellen Griffin Dunne, known as Lenny, and niece of writers Joan Didion and John Gregory Dunne, Dominique came from a background that was as loving and supportive as it was well connected. Youthful and pretty, smart and talented—at that stage where she could alternate between beautiful and girlish—Dunne had already appeared in many roles on television and that year costarred in the film
Poltergeist
. She had every reason to believe her career was taking off.

Her personal life, however, was conflicted. About a year before, she’d met John Thomas Sweeney, five years older and a chef at one of the “in” restaurants in L.A., Ma Maison. A full foot taller than Dunne, Sweeney was well built and handsome, and on the surface they seemed an excellent match. Both were talented and ambitious, and they shared many interests. Within a short time, they moved in together.

At first, Sweeney seemed quite the devoted boyfriend, going to Dominique’s acting classes and appearing on the set where she was filming. They even went to the same therapist. But it became apparent that his actions were motivated by jealousy and a strong possessive streak. They would argue, and Dominique
felt stifled. Sweeney grew ever more afraid that he would lose her. Threatened by her sophisticated friends and jealous of any man she might share a love scene with—although she gave him no cause to be—he reportedly accused her of having abortions, a claim that was completely unfounded.

There is no way to “talk sense” into an overly jealous lover ruled by his insecurities, although if she was like most normal, intelligent people, Dominique probably tried. The relationship became a battle as she tried to wrestle herself free and Sweeney vied for even greater control.

Her brother Alex related a scene in a restaurant during which a slightly tipsy fan who had seen her in
Poltergeist
approached her table while Sweeney was in the men’s room. When he returned to the table and saw the man talking with her, he flew into a rage, physically lifted the fan off his feet, and began shaking him violently.

Her desperate understanding of the situation came through in an insightful letter she wrote, but apparently never sent him: “You do not love me. You are obsessed with me. The person you think you love is not me at all. It is someone you have made up in your head…. We only fight when images of me fade away and you are faced with the real me.” She also wrote that she was afraid of him.

By August of 1982, he had grown violent, at one point reportedly grabbing her by the hair so hard he actually pulled out handfuls. She escaped to her mother’s house in tears, and when he followed, Mrs. Dunne threatened to summon the police.

As is often the pattern in an abusive relationship, though, Sweeney was able to win Dominique back a few days later, no doubt after summoning up his most charming behavior. The bright and forgiving young woman simply did not have the experience yet to
know that you can never go back to the “good old days” with a guy like this. Sooner or later, he will return to his jealousy, possessiveness, anger, and violence. And John Sweeney was no exception.

Within a few weeks they had another argument, during which he started choking her. Fortunately, a friend was staying with them at the time, heard what was happening, and interrupted the assault. Dominique escaped out a bathroom window, chased by Sweeney, who jumped onto her car to make her stop. But she got away and vowed that was the end. After days of hiding, she was able to get him to move out of her home and she changed the locks. She’d given him the “one more chance,” and he’d blown it.

In a poignant and ironic coda, a few days after the funeral, her father, Dominick, was watching an episode of the television drama
Hill Street Blues
in which Dominique had gueststarred. The producers had dedicated the episode to her memory. In the show, she had played an abused teen. What viewers did not know, however, was that the marks on her neck were real, not makeup, having been put there by John Sweeney.