Perfect Murder, Perfect Town - Lawrence Schiller [237]
Hunter reacted with irritation at the suggestion that the actions of the DA’s office were—or could be—dictated by the police or anybody else. Then he confronted the real issue facing them. He told the Ramseys’ attorneys what he was sure they knew—that there would soon be tremendous pressure from the police and the public to convene a grand jury. Hunter added that the Ramseys’ image would be further tarnished if they didn’t agree to nonconditional interviews with the police. They had to know that in such a complicated case, as the investigation proceeded and more information became known, specific questions were raised and these questions needed answers.
Patrick Burke argued that if their clients cooperated, it would give credence to the idea that they were involved in the death of their daughter. However, Haddon admitted that if the Ramseys didn’t consent to the new interviews, they would be damned again in the press. Of course they were used to that by now, but it was an unpleasant prospect nonetheless. The DA implied that the real holdup for the Ramseys’ attorneys was that Burke wasn’t old enough to be coached for an interview or an appearance in front of a grand jury.
With nothing resolved and the atmosphere tense, the Ramseys’ attorneys left. Hunter said that he felt Hal Haddon watched him as closely as anybody had ever looked at him in his life. It was as if Haddon was trying to assess by Hunter’s every movement and gesture whether Hunter was being candid with him.
That afternoon Bill Wise spoke to Bob Miller, one of the three pro bono attorneys advising the police detectives. They agreed that any future action or decision the police took in this case would have to be clearly thought out. For example, if they asked to convene a grand jury, they had to be clear about its true purpose. Would it be to preserve testimony under oath, to get a reluctant witness to talk, to develop new evidence, or to seek an indictment?* Each one of those aims would require developing a different strategy. Nevertheless, there was an advantage to using a grand jury, said Miller. Under a new state law, if a grand jury failed to indict, it could, if it wanted, issue a report giving reasons for its decision. Hunter’s only fear, Wise said, was of a “runaway jury,” predisposed to indicting the Ramseys. He was pretty sure that his boss was prepared for any other eventuality, he said.
On December 5, Mark Beckner stepped in front of a single microphone at Boulder’s city council chambers. He was flanked by the eight police detectives who were now working the case. Seated before them were over a hundred members of the media. This was the first time that most of the press had seen Beckner—as well as the detectives. For the occasion, the police wore suits.
Beckner introduced his team—Detective Sgt. Tom Wickman, the case supervisor, Detectives Tom Trujillo, thirty-six, Steve Thomas, thirty-five, Jane Harmer, thirty-five, Ron Gosage, thirty-one, Kim Stewart, thirty-seven, Carey Weinheimer, thirty-three, and Michael Everett, thirty-three.
The commander began with some prepared remarks. Seventy-two separate tasks had been on his list when he assumed command, he said, and twenty-eight of those had been completed. Another dozen were in progress. The most important remaining task he added, was reinterviewing John, Patsy, and Burke Ramsey. “We have made a formal request for these interviews, and do expect this to be completed in the near future.
“When those and other jobs are finished,” he continued, “we will be in a position to make a decision as to the next step in this case.” Beckner went on to outline his options.
“One, we could seek an arrest warrant and prosecution. We could ask for a grand jury investigation. Or we could inactivate the case until such time as additional information becomes available.” He had nothing more to say.
The first question directed to Beckner was, “Are the Ramseys still a focus of this investigation or have they been elevated to the status of suspects?”
“Well, as