Perfect Murder, Perfect Town - Lawrence Schiller [265]
Hunter had called grand jury specialist Michael Kane after receiving his letter and asked the prosecutor to make himself available so that he could bone up on the case before the police department’s presentation. Hunter wanted Kane’s recommendation on how to proceed afterward. Kane agreed to head the prosecution through the end of 1998.
On May 5, Hunter announced that he had hired Kane, who “would assist the DA’s office in making the decision of whether to present the Ramsey case to the grand jury, and to actively participate in the presentation if the grand jury is convened.” When word got out, the press scrambled to find out more about him.
At forty-six, they learned, Kane had a reputation of being a “no-nonsense guy.” “We called him Deputy Dog. He would bring the hammer down on cases,” said Robert Judge, Kane’s boss at the Pennsylvania Department of Revenue. The Post-Gazette in Pittsburgh said that the Ramsey case was perfect for the prosecutor: “This is where ‘Twin Peaks’ meets the ‘X-Files.’”
For his part, Pete Hofstrom didn’t mind hiring Kane. He had his own docket to worry about and, more important, had serious doubts about convening the grand jury. Nevertheless, he would reserve judgment until after the presentation, he told Hunter.
The same day Hunter announced the hiring of Kane, he and Bill Wise asked the county commissioners for an additional $156,584 to cover costs related to the Ramsey case. The previous week Wise had submitted an itemized list: $60,779 to pay Kane from May 10 through the end of the year and $38,387 for a grand jury “research prosecutor.” The balance of the money would go toward cell phones, computer workstations, laptops, pagers, and a leased car. It was clear from Wise’s request that a grand jury investigation was more than just a possibility.
“In no way do we expect this case to be shelved,” Hunter told the three-member board. “Rather, we remain optimistic this case will be solved.” The board voted unanimously to disburse the funds.
As Hunter and Wise left the commissioners’ chambers in the old courthouse on Pearl Street, the DA was caught by reporters. Why all the money for another expert? Wasn’t this a case of throwing good money after bad? Hunter had to admit that no one currently employed by his office was well enough versed in grand jury investigation or prosecution.
“If you have a heart problem,” Hunter said, “you’re going to need a heart specialist.”
Like many police officers, Steve Thomas had followed the O. J. Simpson case and remembered how Simpson’s attorneys had destroyed the LAPD’s case by attacking their work. He feared the same thing might happen in the Ramsey case. On May 8 Los Angeles attorney Daniel Petrocelli, who had proved to a civil jury that Simpson caused the wrongful death of his ex-wife, Nicole, and Ron Goldman, was in Denver to promote his book on the subject. Thomas and his wife, Karena, went to hear him speak at the Tattered Cover bookstore.
Listening to Petrocelli talk about the case, Thomas came up with an idea. He invited Petrocelli to dinner, but the attorney already had a dinner engagement. The two men talked for a few moments. Thomas wanted to know if an average citizen, or a member of law enforcement, could sue parents for causing a child’s death—as the Goldmans had sued Simpson for the death of their son. Could an officer like Thomas sue John and Patsy Ramsey for the death of JonBenét? Petrocelli said no. He knew of no law or previous cases that allowed someone other than a blood relative or a family member related by marriage or adoption—who had directly suffered a loss—to sue.
That same week, knowing that a grand jury was not too far off, Fleet White again requested copies of his police statements. This time Beckner decided that although White couldn’t have them, he would be allowed to