Written in Blood (15 page)

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Authors: Diane Fanning

BOOK: Written in Blood
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Candace saw Kathleen and Mike again when Candace hosted a family get-together at her house on July 3. During this celebration, her concern for her sister escalated to alarm. Kathleen was agitated and nervous. She was far too stressed out by the ride up from Durham. She was even more stressed about the situation at Nortel than she was in the spring. The lay-offs had continued and the stock's dramatic drop kept worsening. The value of her nest egg, once $2.4 million, was heading below $50,000. As the two sisters talked in the kitchen, Kathleen popped a Valium and washed it down with a glass of wine.
Steve noticed that Michael's behavior was off and that Kathleen was stressed. He put it all down to their current financial situation and let it go.
Lori was concerned about her older sister, too. She visited Kathleen's home on Cedar Street with her two sons, William and Eddie, and her mother, Veronica Hunt. Eddie had just turned 5 and the blowpoke by the Petersons' fireplace was irresistible. He loved swinging it around like a sword. Lori retrieved it from him several times, concerned that he might break the glass-top table or chip the slate on the fireplace.
William noticed that Wilbur would not stop licking Portia's neck. Lori investigated and discovered a raw and oozing line under her collar that had to have been there for quite some time. She pointed it out to Michael, who removed the leather strap from her neck. She had thought Michael was attached to those dogs. She had seen him playing and swimming with them. The neglect made no sense to her.
Michael Peterson spent a lot of time at his computer. That was not unusual for a writer. It was unusual that a married man spent a great portion of that time browsing homosexual pornography.
One day in August, someone gave him a phone number for Brad, a male-to-male sexual escort, who was serving in the Army and stationed at Fort Bragg in Fayetteville. When he called Brad, the escort directed him to his Web site to check out his references.
Mike visited the site and discovered photographs and the following description: “I am jock-masculine and carry the same attitude. I'm a 25-year-old regular athletic guy. I'm 6'1” and 185 1bs, with a 32” waist and 42” chest. I am NOT a bodybuilder … yet. If you want some muscle worship, I am not your guy. I have short brown hair (lighter in the summer) and blue eyes. I have bright white teeth and I am clean shaven. My body is smooth and shaved in most places. I am tan, clean-cut, and have great skin.” He continued in this vein with praise of his genital endowments.
His standard rates were posted: $150 per hour and $700 for an entire day. He even had a special vacation
rate of $2,000. There was also a page containing testimonials from satisfied customers.
Mike was pleased with what he'd found and sent an email to Brad. “You have great reviews and I would like to get together with you.” He suggested a daytime rendezvous and encouraged Brad to audition for Dirk Yates, a major player in the porn business, when Brad traveled to Palm Springs. A graphic description of the sexual activities of interest to Peterson completed the message.
But Brad was not familiar with Dirk Yates. Michael responded with a description of the autoerotic and homosexual films the man made with Marines in San Diego. “Some of my friends did films for him but I never did (though, I was better looking and better hung) because this was way before ‘Don't ask, don't tell.'”
Mike told Brad that he thought Brad had the potential to be a star in the porn industry—a potential Mike felt they shared. Mike encouraged him to visit next week and concluded with a few vulgar statements about their future sexual escapades.
The next email concerned the logistics of their encounter and a comment about Kathleen. “Evenings are not great for me anyway; I'm married. Very happily married with a dynamite wife. Yes, I know, I know; I'm very bi and that's all there is to it.”
Brad's radar detected too much friendliness in that email and made sure Michael understood that this was a financial arrangement. In his response, Mike made it clear he was aware that their relationship was all business.
On September 3, Mike urged him to come up to
Durham for the 6 A.M. flight he had the next morning. He suggested they could meet close to the airport and Brad could sleep on the plane. Two more emails followed with increasing urgency about the arrangements for their rendezvous.
In the end, Brad stood him up. He was tired and wanted to get some rest before his flight. On September 30, Brad emailed an apology to his would-be client. Michael never responded.
In October, during fall break, Caitlin drove down to Durham from Cornell with two of her college friends. She timed her departure to arrive on Cedar Street at 8:30 in the evening. Kathleen promised Caitlin that her favorite—chicken Parmesan with prosciutto—would be waiting for her when she arrived.
Caitlin encountered horrendous stop-and-go traffic on the way down. The worst of all was in the Washington, D.C., area. She called her mother and let her know she would not make it for dinner.
The girls arrived after 11. They had not stopped for dinner and were famished. They hoped to scrounge through the kitchen and find something to eat. To their surprise and delight, Kathleen greeted them with a set table and more delicious chicken Parmesan than they could possibly consume.
Kathleen enjoyed the visit. It gave her the opportunity to set aside her worries and pretend she was a college girl once again. On a shopping trip to Costco—Kathleen was nuts about that place—they all slipped one arm into children's Halloween costumes and held masks to their
faces, laughing at their silliness and having a great time. Kathleen squeezed the paws of every giggling stuffed animal she could find to embarrass Caitlin. Caitlin turned red, but delighted in every second.
The morning the girls were leaving to drive back to Ithaca, Kathleen rose early and prepared a sumptuous breakfast of bacon, eggs and pancakes to send them on their way. It was the last time Caitlin would ever taste her mother's cooking.
On July 31, 2001, Michael Peterson, now president of the Forest Hills Neighborhood Association, had thrown his hat into the political ring again. This time, he ran for a city council seat against incumbent Howard Clement. Unlike the fat campaign chest he had for his run for mayor in 1999, Peterson raised only $800 in contributions this time. The negative residue from his last race covered his candidacy like an oil slick.
Despite the incessant attacks and accusations that Michael's muddy hands lobbed at the eighteen-year incumbent, November 6 was not Peterson's day. He only received 11,442 votes. His opponent brought in 18,324 votes—a clear victory. Peterson did not take this loss very well. He spouted venom in his column in the Duke University newspaper,
The Chronicle,
and on his Web site.
Kathleen had thought about having all the family in for Thanksgiving, but when Candace demurred, she changed her plans. Instead, she and Michael went down to Florida to visit Kathleen's mother for the holiday.
Ever the happy hostess, Kathleen planned and prepared a dinner for two dozen of her mother's friends on Thanksgiving eve. She called Candace and crowed about the success of the event. Candace noticed that her sister sounded upbeat and her stress level seemed down. When she asked about it, Kathleen said that although she was still unhappy with her life, what with the lay-offs and the stock prices, the Valium she had started taking in the summer was helping her a lot.
During the visit, Veronica sat down with Michael and Kathleen to discuss her will and funeral arrangements. She wanted Kathleen to serve as executor for her estate. She informed them that she wanted to be cremated when she died and that she had a living will stipulating no life support.
Kathleen was willing to follow her mother's wishes, but told Veronica and Michael that was not what she wanted for herself. “Do not cremate me,” she said. “Bury me in the ground. And do not ever disconnect my life support. I'm going to go out of this world kicking and screaming.”
Upon his return to Durham, Michael emailed his ex-wife about the financial woes of their grown sons. He wanted Patty to take out a $30,000 home equity loan to help support them. Clayton's rent and the interest payments on his credit card consumed more than he made from NC State with his teaching fellowship, and left him nothing for other expenses. Todd was paying about $300 a month in credit card interest and not reducing the principal.
Mike offered to pick up the payments on the home equity loan in two years after he paid off Todd's car.
“Please let me know what you think. It would be a huge relief off my mind because I am worried sick about them. It is simply not possible for me to discuss this with Kathleen.”
A few days later, Michael sent an email to Margaret and Martha's uncle, Thomas Ratliff. He bragged about Clayton graduating at the top of his class at NC State in Computer Engineering and expressed concerns about Clayton's future prospects.
“Poor Kathleen is undergoing the tortures of the damned at Nortel,” he wrote. “They've laid off 45,000 people. She's a survivor and in no trouble, but the stress is monumental there.”
Despite the confidence he expressed about Kathleen's survival, her immediate supervisor at Nortel was laid off in early December and Kathleen was on an optimization list for a short time.
On Wednesday, December 5, Mike sent an email to Kathleen at work. “Here's the scoop on the Independent [a Durham news weekly]. There were no invitations, but we can still go. Let me know if you want me to call in. Or we could just show up at the door Friday night. You looked great last night. If ONLY we hadn't gone to Pao Lim. Let's work on our marriage tonight.”
When this email was retrieved by forensic computer experts, it raised a lot of questions. To the investigators, Michael sounded like a man in the doghouse. They wanted to know what had happened at Pao Lim and what was wrong in the marriage.
Money was quite tight in the Peterson household, prompting Kathleen to make a change to her deferred income plan on December 6. Instead of socking away 80 percent of her salary and bonuses every year, Kathleen reduced that amount to a 10 percent deferral for the calendar year of 2002.
Kathleen used a vacation day on Friday, December 7, and went shopping with Michael that morning. They went to Costco and a few other places buying Christmas gifts for the kids, a TV for the house and a Christmas tree. That afternoon, they put the tree up in the living room, strung it with lights and hung a few of their ornaments.
Early that evening, Kathleen answered a telephone call from David Perlmutt. He had good news to share and spoke with both Kathleen and Michael. Stratton Leopold, a major Hollywood producer, wanted to option
Charlie Two Shoes.
Stratton's most recent film success was a movie based on a book by Nelson DeMille,
The General's Daughter,
starring John Travolta and Timothy Hutton. After a long dry spell, Michael would earn some money for his writing.
Friday night, the Petersons went to the party Mike mentioned in his email. It was thrown by the
Independent.
They danced and socialized till 1 A.M. when the party broke up.
The next morning, Kathleen went to work to prepare for a business trip. She was scheduled to meet with a colleague at the home office just outside of Toronto, at 9 A.M. that Monday morning. At 4 P.M., she left the office.
Michael spent the day writing and prowling the
Internet. A few minutes before Kathleen was expected home, he left to go to the YMCA.
In the car on her way home, Kathleen called her sister-in-law, Cynthia. They talked about Cynthia's new job, the holidays and the kids coming home. Kathleen told her about a new wave of lay-offs at Nortel that would include some people who were close to retirement. She worried that she would be next.
At 6, Mike called Kathleen from the Y and she expressed her annoyance about all the time he spent at the gym. Her husband was conciliatory. He suggested that they stay home that night and celebrate the good news about
Charlie Two Shoes.
He offered to pick up a romantic movie.
Just before 7, Michael rented
America's Sweethearts
starring Catherine Zeta-Jones, John Cusack, Julia Roberts and Billy Crystal at a Blockbuster near his home. According to Christina Tomasetti, she and Todd Peterson stopped by the Peterson home around 9:45. Kathleen and Michael were drinking white wine and champagne while watching the movie. Both of them appeared very happy. Forty-five minutes later, Todd and Christina left for a Christmas party in the neighborhood.
Just after 11 P.M., Kathleen returned a call from her Canadian colleague about the conference call scheduled on Sunday morning. They exchanged home email addresses—Kathleen gave her Michael's address so they could share documents on line before the call. Kathleen's voice did not slur on this call—her demeanor was professional. There was no indication that she was impaired in any way.
The next three and a half hours are shrouded in
secrecy. Michael Peterson claimed that the two of them were sitting by the pool talking. Kathleen went inside between 1:45 and 2 A.M. Michael stayed outside in his shorts in 55-degree weather. He claimed that when he came in forty-five minutes later, he found Kathleen dead at the bottom of the stairs.
Was his story true? The investigators looked at the evidence and concluded that it was not. They saw indications of a brutal attack on Kathleen that they believed happened at midnight or a little earlier.
Prosecutors and investigators wondered: How could the peaceful scene of a couple watching a romantic movie erupt in violence in the span of a couple of hours? Had Kathleen found evidence of Michael's infidelity and bisexual lifestyle while waiting at the computer for Helen's email? She left her first husband because of his adulterous acts; they did not think she would tolerate that same behavior in Michael.
Did she confront him? they speculated. Did he lose his temper and erupt in a violent rage? Only one person survived that night at 1810 Cedar Street. Michael Peterson had told his story, and he was sticking to it.
Michael Peterson holds his new sister, Ann, as his younger brothers—Jack (
l
) and Bill (
r
)—stand by his side. The siblings paired off: Michael and Bill formed a close relationship because they always shared a bedroom, while Jack and Ann's closeness in age made them tight.
Eugene Peterson's career with the U.S. Army took his family all over America and as far away as Denmark and Japan, where Bill, Ann, Jack, and Michael (
l to r
) are pictured in a park.
Michael, Bill, Ann, Eleanor Eugene, and Jack Peterson are pictured in July 1992, the same month that Michael purchased the 10,000-square-foot home at 1810 Cedar Street in Durham, NC, and moved in with Kathleen Atwater. Michael's estranged wife Patty's name was on the deed, after Eleanor and Eugene convinced her to sign on the loan.
Michael Peterson and Patty Bateman were married in 1966 at Fort Belvoir Proving Ground in northern Virginia, just minutes from Mount Vernon, Old Town Alexandria, and Washington, D.C. Michael's brothers, Bill and Jack, are immediately to his left.
Patty, Todd, Michael, and Clayton Peterson (
l
to
r
) in Germany, a few months after Todd's birth in March 1976. The family moved to Germany shortly before Clayton was born in December 1974, and they subsisted only on Patty's salary as a teacher.

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