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He demonstrated this in his attitude at his deposition. The duct tape on the gas can in the shed was a perfect example. When Caylee went missing, the police had asked George about any unusual activities around the property in the prior month. He told them about the stolen gas cans he had reported to the police, which Casey had then returned to him.

As a result of that information, the cans had been photographed at that time during the summer. In December, after it was clear that the tape on the cans matched the tape at the crime scene, the cans were seized because of the tape. Obviously the tape had been on them since June.

But when I asked George about the tape on the cans during the deposition, he was evasive. He admitted that it was his habit to cover the vent hole of the can with tape since he had lost the plug.

But I wanted him to confirm the obvious: that the duct tape on Caylee’s remains came from his home. I showed him photographs of a number of items involved in the case, including the two metal gas cans. George knew that the tape was a key element in connecting Casey to Caylee’s body and was ready with a surprising explanation.

Identifying the gas can with a small piece of tape, I asked, “Now, that gas can appears to have a piece of duct tape on it. Do you recognize that?”

“I didn’t put the duct tape on there,” George responded.

“Do you recognize it, though?”

“I recognize this can, but I didn’t put that duct tape on there. I wouldn’t do a sloppy job like that.”

“Okay, have you ever seen that piece of duct tape on that can before?” I prodded.

“Not this particular size, no. No, sir.”

Rather than argue with George, I backed up. “So, at some point, you say you had put a piece of duct tape over the vent of that can; is that correct?”

“Uh-huh . . . I don’t know when I specifically did that, but I know that I did it. Because whenever I put the duct tape over that particular vent hole that you’ve described or told me about, I did it very neatly. That’s not my style,” he explained.

“What’s not neat about it?” I asked.

“It’s too big. I wouldn’t have done that. I wouldn’t have put the tape there. I would have been neater than that. I would have cut it neater, more precisely than that to just cover the hole.”

It was a strange statement, one that between the lines pretty much accused the police of planting the piece of duct tape on the can. I pointed out that in August, when the police first photographed the cans, the police had no reason to believe the duct tape had anything to do with the case. Caylee’s body hadn’t even been discovered, so it wouldn’t have made sense for them to plant it. He had no real answer for the question, and the look on his face told me he knew he had nowhere to go with his story.

He next tried to deny using the cans from that date in June until the first of August, when he gave them to the cops, but he missed the fact that he would have had to mow the lawn in that period of time. When he realized the mistake, he tried to bring two supposedly newly purchased cans into the story. But when I asked when he had purchased the new ones, he had to admit that he’d bought those before the old ones were taken, which made no sense.

I asked him, “Okay, but why did you buy them if you did not yet know that these were missing?” I asked.

“Okay, I’m going to be very, very blunt with you,” George responded. “Don’t try to confuse me.”

It was sad to witness how much George wanted to protect his daughter.Instead of changing course, though, he just looked at the table and stuck to his answer. This was not an argument that logic was going to win. He was trying to help Casey, much as Cindy had when she tried to take credit for the searches for chloroform. The tape on the gas can was one of the most important pieces of evidence, and he was trying to keep it from being connected to the crime scene. Suggesting that the police put it there was his only option, and it wasn’t a particularly good one. While he didn’t go as far as Cindy had, he was walking a