Perfect Murder, Perfect Town - Lawrence Schiller [299]
The logical explanation, Hoffmann-Pugh said, was that JonBenét had wet the bed on either Monday, Tuesday or Wednesday night. The clean sheets had probably been put on the bed and the wet sheets, blanket, and maybe even the Barbie nightgown were put in the wash and dried. The Ramseys didn’t even have a clothes hamper, she said. When they took off their dirty clothes, they would just leave them lying around. The only things that went directly into the washer were JonBenét’s urine-soaked sheets and blanket, so that they wouldn’t smell. Only someone who knew which washer and dryer the Ramseys used for JonBenét’s sheets and blanket would know where to find the blanket if it wasn’t on the bed. Just as important, the washer-dryer outside JonBenét’s room was built into a cabinet. Hoffmann-Pugh speculated that whoever killed JonBenét knew where the blanket was that night and probably took it out of the dryer.
Next was a picture of Burke’s red pocketknife that the police found in the basement several yards from JonBenét’s body. It might have been used to cut the cord that was found binding the child. Linda remembered taking the knife away from Burke several weeks before the murder and hiding it in a closed cupboard in the service area just outside JonBenét’s bedroom. Burke had been using the pocketknife to whittle without collecting the discarded shavings. Again, Linda pointed out to the investigators that only an adult in the family would have had any idea of where she’d put the knife.
Then they showed her the picture of Patsy’s paint tray—or tote, as she called it—and some paintings leaning against the wall. The photograph had been taken just outside the wine cellar, right next to where Hoffmann-Pugh’s own daughter had put John Ramsey’s golf clubs. But that wasn’t where she’d left the tray on December 23, she said. She had put it at the foot of the stairs and didn’t know who had moved it. They asked her about the bowl with pineapple that was found on the dining room table. Did she recognize the white ridged bowl with a little lip on the bottom that served as a base, about the size of a softball?
Yes, it looked familiar, she said, but it would be better to see the real bowl, since there were so many in the kitchen that looked alike. Later, thinking about it, Hoffmann-Pugh felt that it was almost as if they had been playing the game “What’s wrong with this picture?”
Finally, Kane showed her a picture of the Bible that John kept on his bedroom desk. Hoffmann-Pugh knew it was always open to Psalm 118. Every time she dusted, she saw it open to the same page. She told them she often read the verse. She didn’t sit down to read it, just read it standing up. Hoffmann-Pugh started to cry. She remembered that the amount of the ransom demand was $118,000, and thought about JonBenét being dead.
“That’s OK,” Michael Kane said, patting her on the hand. “Don’t worry about it.”
“We’ll see you in court,” said Bruce Levin.
That same Sunday, Lou Smit thought about the tunnel vision that, he believed, had set in at Hunter’s office. Now that Levin and Morrissey were up to speed, they were thinking just like Kane—they wanted the grand jury to return an indictment. Smit understood that it was their job—they hadn’t been brought in to evaluate the case: they were there to present it. They were hired guns. Though it wouldn’t be known to the public for several weeks, Trip DeMuth had been removed from the case.
Smit gave it one last crack. He asked Hunter to wait with the grand jury, came close to begging him. Smit could see that Hunter felt the evidence wasn’t quite there yet, but at the same time it was clear to him that the DA was not exactly in charge—he