Goldilocks

7

The interview room was a five-by-eight rectangle with a small table and three armless chairs in it. There was a mirror, on the wall facing Michael. I suspected it was a two-way mirror, and asked Ehrenberg if it was. He readily admitted that it was, and then assured me that no photographs were being taken and that none would be taken until Michael was officially charged with a crime. He said this while fiddling with the tape recorder he’d carried from the squad room into the interview room. I knew that “interview” was a euphemism for “interrogation,” but I made no comment. I was fully cognizant of the fact that Michael Purchase was determined to make a statement to the police, and that if I said anything or did anything to annoy him he would simply ask me to leave. Moreover, I was thoroughly convinced that Ehrenberg had done nothing to jeopardize Michael’s constitutional rights, nor would he do so at any time during the interview, or interrogation, or whatever he chose to call it. I had the feeling he preferred the word “interview.” I had the feeling that everything about police work, and especially about this case, troubled him. I visualized him as an antiques dealer in some New England town. I visualized him as a man running a nursery someplace, selling potted hyacinths or gloxinias. The room was air-conditioned, but Ehrenberg was perspiring as he spoke a few test words into the recorder, played them back, and reset the machine for taping.

Into the microphone he said, “This will be a recording of the questions put to Michael Purchase and of his responses thereto made this first day of March at...” He looked at his watch. “...twelve twenty-seven P.M. in the Public Safety Building of the Calusa Police Department, Calusa, Florida. Questioning Mr. Purchase was Detective George Ehrenberg of the Calusa Police Department. Also present was Mr. Matthew Hope of the law firm of Summerville & Hope, Carey Avenue, Calusa, attorney for Mr. Purchase.”

He hesitated, looked briefly at Michael and me, as if to make certain he’d mentioned all the people sitting at the table, and then said, “I know you’ve previously been informed of your rights, Mr. Purchase, but I’d like to go over them again, for the record. In keeping with the Supreme Court decision in Miranda vs. Arizona, we are not permitted to ask you any questions until you are warned of your right to counsel and your privilege against self-incrimination. So first, you have the right to remain silent. Do you understand that?”

“Yes, I do,” Michael said.

He went through the rest of the obligatory recitation, making certain that Michael understood all of his rights, ascertaining that Michael was willing to have me present as his attorney, and then asking him his full name, soliciting from Michael the information that he was living at present on a boat called The Broadhorn, which was docked at Pirate’s Cove, and that a girl named Lisa Schellmann—

“Would you spell that, please?” Ehrenberg said.

“S-C-H-E-L–L-M-A-N-N.”

— was living with him, had been living with him for the past two months, in fact. He asked Michael how old he was, asked if Dr. James Purchase was his father, asked if Maureen was his stepmother and Emily and Eve his half sisters, and then took a deep breath and said, “Will you tell me, please, as best you can recall, what took place on the night of February twenty-ninth, that would have been last night, Sunday the twenty-ninth of February.”

“Where do you want me to begin?” Michael asked.

“Were you in the vicinity of Jacaranda Drive on Sabal Shores at any time last night?”

“I was, sir, yes, sir.”

“Where on Jacaranda?”

“At my father’s house.”

“At the home of Dr. James Purchase?”

“Yes, sir, my father.”

“Why did you go there?”

“To see him.”

“To see your father? Could you speak up, please? And into the mike, please.”

“Yes, sir, I’m sorry.”

“Why did you want to see your father?”

“I needed some money. For a repair on the boat.”

“What sort of repair?”

“She’s leaking drive oil into the engine pan.”

“And you went there to talk to your father about it.”

“Yeah, to ask him if I could borrow some money to have it fixed. It’s going to cost six hundred dollars.”

“Did you go to his house directly from the boat?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you drive from Pirate’s Cove to Sabal Shores?”

“No, I don’t have a car. I got a hitch from some people coming out of the restaurant there. They dropped me off on the corner of Jacaranda.”

“What time was this?”

“Was what? When I got to Jacaranda?”

“Yes.”

“About a quarter to twelve, I guess. I don’t have a watch.”

“Did you walk up Jacaranda directly to the house?”

“Yes, directly to the house.”

“Were there lights on when you got there?”

“Yes.”

“Outside lights? Inside lights?

“Both.”

“What did you do when you got to the house?”

“I went to the front door and rang the bell.”

“Did your father answer the doorbell?”

“No. Maureen did.”

“What did she say?”

“She seemed... ah... she was surprised to see me. It was close to midnight, I guess it was late to be paying a visit.”

“Did she say anything about it being late?”

“No, no.”

“What did she say?”

“She just... ah... said my father wasn’t home.”

“Did she say where he was?”

“No. Just that he wasn’t home.”

“Do you know where he was last night, Mr. Purchase?”

“No, sir, I do not.”

“When you went to the house, did you know he wouldn’t be home?”

“Well... no. I expected him to be there.”

“You didn’t know Sunday night was his poker night.”

“No, I thought he’d be home. I was going there to see him.”

“But now that I remind you of it, do you recall that your father customarily plays poker every other Sunday?”

“Yes, I guess I know that.”

I wanted to stop the questioning then and there, but I hesitated. Ehrenberg wasn’t trying to trick Michael, it wasn’t that, nor was he putting words in his mouth. His job was to get the facts, and he was simply doing his job. But he knew that once this session was finished, the police would have to charge Michael, and what Michael said in the next little while would largely determine the nature of the charge. I had not looked at the state’s criminal statutes since the time I’d been studying for the Florida bar exams, but I knew well enough that to charge Michael with first-degree murder, there had to be a reasonable assumption of “premeditated design.” Ehrenberg was trying to find out whether or not Michael went to that house with the express purpose of killing Maureen and the two girls. He had just admitted that he now remembered his father played poker every other Sunday night. I knew what Ehrenberg’s next question would be, and I wanted to stop it before he asked it. But I was afraid Michael would then request that I be kicked summarily out of the room. My situation was a delicate one. I waited, hoping Ehrenberg wouldn’t ask the anticipated question. He asked it.

“Mr. Purchase, did you in fact know your father wouldn’t be home last night when you went—”

“Michael,” I said, “as your attorney, I think I should advise you to stop answering any more questions at this point. Mr. Ehrenberg, I think you can realize the position—”

“I want to answer the questions,” Michael said.

“You’ve been warned that anything you say here can be used as evidence against you. The purpose of an attorney—”

“I want to,” Michael said, and then answered the question in a way that still left the matter of premeditation unresolved. “I really didn’t know where he’d be,” he said. “I didn’t know whether he’d be at the house or not. That’s the truth.”

“But when you got there—”

“He wasn’t there.”

“This was at a quarter to twelve?”

“Around then.”

“What time would it have been exactly?”

Ehrenberg was going after facts again. An autopsy was mandatory in a murder case, that much I knew. If he did not already have the information in his possession, Ehrenberg would soon have from the coroner an approximate time of death. If the coroner said Maureen and the girls had been killed sometime between eleven and midnight, for example, and Michael now stated he’d got there at...

“It would have been about a quarter to twelve, maybe a little later,” he said. “I told you, I don’t have a watch.”

“So at a quarter to twelve, you rang the doorbell—”

“Yes.”

“And your stepmother answered it.”

“Maureen answered it, yes, sir.”

“What was she wearing?”

“A nightgown.”

“Just a nightgown?”

“Yes... ah... a pink nightgown.”

“She opened the door wearing just the nightgown.”

“Yes.”

“A long nightgown or a short nightgown?”

“Long.”

“Did it have sleeves?”

“No, no sleeves.”

“Can you tell me anything else about the nightgown?”

“I think... yes, there was a sort of a little rosebud thing here at the... where the... the neck, this part of the gown.”

“You’re indicating an area... oh, midway on your chest.”

“Yes.”

“Where a woman’s breasts would be.”

“Yes.”

“And you say there was... a rosebud, did you call it?”

“I don’t know what it’s called, it’s a little sort of... the fabric is gathered, it looks like a flower.”

“Would you mean a rosette?”

“Yes, that’s right, a rosette.”

“What color was the rosette?”

“Pink, same as the gown.”

“What else was your stepmother wearing?”

“That’s all, I think.”

“Slippers?”

“No.”

“Jewelry?”

“A wedding band.”

“Anything in her hair?”

“No.”

He had just described exactly what Maureen was wearing. I’d heard this same description from Jamie two hours earlier, when he was telling us about walking into that bedroom and finding his wife in the closet. Even the rosette, Michael had just described even the goddamn rosette. I had to make another try. This time, I directed my plea to Ehrenberg.

“Mr. Ehrenberg,” I said, “on behalf of my client, I’d like to protest strongly this continuing interrogation after I’ve advised him to—”

“Listen,” Michael said, his voice rising, “you just shut the fuck up, okay?”

“Everything you say is being taped—”

“I know it is.”

“And can be used later as—”

“Damn it, will you please let me—”

“Mr. Ehrenberg,” I said, “can you stop the tape a minute?”

Ehrenberg immediately pushed the STOP button.

The room went silent.

“Michael,” I said, “I’m going to ask you just one question. If you answer yes to it, I’ll keep still for the rest of this interview, you can say whatever you like, I won’t interrupt, I won’t try to stop you. But if you say no—”

“What’s the question?”

“Do you want to go to the electric chair?”

“Yes.”

Ehrenberg visibly flinched. I don’t think he was expecting Michael’s affirmative reply; I know I wasn’t.

“So can we please get on with it?” Michael said.

Ehrenberg looked at me, waiting for my permission to continue. I said nothing. He nodded helplessly and pressed the RECORD button. His voice was softer when he began questioning Michael again. “Would you tell me what happened next, please?” he said.

“Maureen told me my father wasn’t home, and ah... asked me if I wanted to come in.”

“Did you go in?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Through the front door?”

“Yes.”

“Where did you go? What part of the house?”

“Well... ah... first we went into the kitchen.”

“Yes, go on.”

“We sat down in the kitchen.”

“Yes.”

“There’s a table there in the kitchen.”

“Go on.”

“And while we were sitting there... it’s hard for me to remember all this.”

“I know it is. But while you were sitting at the kitchen table...”

“I guess I saw the knives.”

“What knives?”

“There’s a rack on the wall. In the kitchen. It’s a magnetic rack, there’re four or five knives on it. You know, different kinds of knives.”

“What happened when you saw this rack with the knives on it?”

“I guess I... ah... got up and grabbed one of the knives from the rack.”

“Which knife?”

“It had to be one of the big knives.”

“Can you describe the knife more particularly?”

“No, I don’t really remember what it looked like. One of the big ones on the rack. I just... I just reached up and grabbed the... nearest knife.”

“But you don’t remember which knife it was.”

“I know it was one of the big ones.”

“How many big ones were there on the rack?”

“I don’t know.”

“But you reached for one of them.”

“Yes.”

“Reached how? Can you show me where the knife rack was in relationship to the table here in this room?”

“Yes, it was... it would have been to the right. I got up, and I walked to the right, and I took the knife off the rack.”

“What did Maureen say when she saw you doing this?”

“Nothing. I don’t remember.”

“What were you talking about before you reached for the knife?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Well, was it a pleasant conversation?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Would you remember why you got up and reached for the knife?”

“I just got up and grabbed it from the rack.”

“What did you do then?”

“I stabbed her.”

“Were you still in the kitchen when you stabbed her?”

“Yes. Well, no, actually, we were... it was in the bedroom.”

“How did you get to the bedroom?”

“I don’t remember. I guess she ran in there.”

“And you followed her?”

“Yes.”

“With the knife?”

“Yes.”

“In which hand were you holding the knife?”

“My right hand.”

“Are you right-handed?”

“Yes.”

“Were you holding the knife in your right hand when you stabbed her?”

“Yes.”

“Did she scream?”

“Her mouth.”

“What about her mouth?”

“It was open.”

“She was screaming, is that it?”

“No.”

“But her mouth was open?”

“Yes.”

“Did she say anything to you?”

“No.”

“Where was she when you stabbed her?”

“On the... near the... she was... in the... in the... I didn’t see her at first, she was... there was...”

“All right, Mr. Purchase, calm down now. Calm down, please.”

“Yes, I’m sorry.”

“Would you like a glass of water?”

“No, thank you.”

“Just try to...”

“Yes.”

“Compose yourself.”

“Yes.”

“When you’re ready to continue—”

“I’m ready now.”

“Just tell me again what happened in the bedroom.”

“I stabbed her.”

“Where was she?”

“In the closet.”

“What was she doing in the closet?”

“I didn’t see her at first. I was looking.”

“But you didn’t see her.”

“Not at first.”

“And when you did see her...?”

“Yes.”

“What happened after you saw her?”

“I... stabbed her.”

“How many times did you stab her?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Were you angry?”

“Sad.”

“Why were you sad?”

“She was dead.”

“You were sad that you’d killed her?”

“It was true.”

“What was true?”

“She was dead.”

“Had you thought it wasn’t true?”

“I was wishing... I kept wishing it was a mistake.”

“I don’t understand. You kept wishing what was a mistake?”

“That she was dead.”

“When did you realize it wasn’t a mistake?”

“Well, I saw her... she... when I saw her on the floor... with... the gown all torn... all slashed... and... her... her throat cut, I... I knew she was dead, I knew it was true, and I... I took her in my arms. I held her, I rocked her...”

“Why did you do that?”

“I was crying.”

“Was this after you realized she was dead?”

“Yes, after I realized.”

“Is that how you got the blood on your clothes?”

“Yes.”

“When you held your stepmother in your arms?”

“Yes. And my sister Emily. I held Emily in my arms, too.”

“Did you also embrace Eve?”

“No, Eve was... under the covers. I... just Emily. I just held Emily.”

“When was this?”

“I... I lifted her... she was on the floor inside the door.”

“Are we talking about Emily now?”

“Yes, Emily.”

“What was she wearing?”

“A short nightgown and... panties.”

“What color was the nightgown?”

“A pale blue.”

“Did it have sleeves?”

“No.”

“What color were the panties?”

“I don’t know.”

“What was Eve wearing?”

“I don’t know. She was under the covers.”

“But Emily wasn’t in bed?”

“No.”

“When did you go into the girls’ room?”

“Afterward.”

“After what?”

“After Maureen.”

“Why did you go into the girls’ room?”

“Maureen was dead, I wanted to...”

“Yes?”

“I went in to see the girls.”

“Were you still carrying the knife?”

“What?”

“The knife. Was it—”

“Yes.”

“Still in your hand?”

“Yes.”

“You still had the knife in your hand.”

“Yes, I... still had it.”

“So you went into the girls’ room with the knife in your hand.”

“Yes.”

“What did you do then?”

“I stabbed the girls, too.”

“Which of the girls did you stab first?”

“Emily. She was just inside the door.”

“She was out of bed, and was standing just inside the door, is that it?”

“She was... yes. Yes, that’s it.”

“Did you say anything to her?”

“No.”

“How many times did you stab her?”

“A lot. It had to be a lot.”

“Did she scream?”

“I don’t remember.”

“What did you do then?”

“I went to the bed where Eve was. Against the wall. And I... ah... I stabbed her, too.”

“Through the covers?”

“Through the covers.”

“Then what did you do?”

“I left the house.”

“You said you embraced your sister—”

“What?”

“Emily. You said you embraced—”

“Yes, that must have... that was... I guess after I stabbed Eve, I... on the way out of the room, I... Emily was on the floor just inside the door, I... held her, too, I... knelt down beside her and just... held her in my arms, and I suppose I was crying, I suppose I was still crying. Because it was all so goddamn sad, it was all so sad.”

“What did you do then? After you embraced Emily.”

“I put her gently... I lowered her gently to the... the floor again, and I left the house.”

“Through the front door?”

“No.”

“You did not leave the way you came in?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I had blood on my clothes.”

“How did you leave?”

“Through the door at the side of the house. I locked it behind me.”

“How?”

“I twisted the button on the doorknob.”

“All right, you went out through the side door and then where did you go? Can you describe your route?”

“I began walking west toward the beach.”

“Were you still carrying the knife?”

“I... don’t remember.”

“Where is that knife, can you tell me?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know what happened to the knife?”

“No.”

“Did you leave it in the house?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Or throw it away someplace on the grounds?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Did you walk toward the bayou when you came out of the house?”

“No.”

“You didn’t go anywhere near the bayou?”

“No.”

“So you couldn’t have thrown the knife in the water there at the back of the house.”

“I don’t remember.”

“But you do remember that you didn’t go toward the bayou?”

“That’s right.”

“You left the house—”

“Yes. And came around the side of it, and began walking west on Jacaranda, toward the beach.”

“Did you still have the knife in your hand?”

“I guess so.”

“What did you do then?”

“There’s this property that belongs... it’s an access road to the beach, it belongs to the people who live in the development, a private access road. There’s a chain across the entrance to it, I climbed over the chain, and walked down through the pine forest—”

“Still carrying the knife?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Go on.”

“I came out on the beach, the access road leads directly to the beach...”

“Yes?”

“And I walked on the beach for a while.”

“Still carrying the knife?”

“Let me think.”

“Take your time.”

“I must have thrown it in the water.”

“In the Gulf?”

“Yes. While I was walking along, I threw it in the Gulf.”

“Then what?”

“I sat down and began crying. In a little while, I got up and walked back toward the pine forest. There’s a small gazebo just off the beach — the association had it built, there’s a table there and benches on either side of it. I climbed up on the table and stretched out with my hands behind my head. I was planning to sleep there, I guess. I hadn’t figured things out yet. I didn’t know what I was going to do.”

“About what, do you mean?”

“About... Maureen being dead. And the girls. I didn’t know whether to... to go to the police and tell them I’d done it, or... just see what happened. I didn’t want to go to the police, I was afraid they’d beat me up or...”

“But no one here has abused you physically or—”

“No, no.”

“Mentally.”

“No, everyone’s been... it’s just that you hear stories about the police. And this was... I thought they might have... you know... thought I’d... you know... done something to... Maureen.”

“What do you mean by ‘done something’?”

“Well, you know.”

“Could you explain what you mean?”

“You know.”

“I’m not sure.”

“You know, her being in a nightgown and all.”

“Yes, what about that?”

“The police might have got the idea I’d done something to her. Like, you know, molested her or something.”

“Did you molest her?”

“No, sir. No, I didn’t.”

“You held her in your arms, though. You embraced her.”

“Yes, but I didn’t... you know... I didn’t do... I didn’t do what the police might think I’d done if I... if I went to them and told them... told them... what I’d done.”

“You embraced Emily, too, isn’t that so?”

“Yes, but I didn’t...”

“Go on. I’m listening.”

“Didn’t do anything to her.”

“But you were afraid the police would think you’d done something to her.”

“That’s right.”

“Something sexual?”

“Yes.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No, sir, I did not.”

“Not to Emily or to Maureen.”

“She was... you know... the nightgown was all torn.”

“Maureen’s nightgown.”

“Yes, but I didn’t do anything to her, I swear to God.”

“And the reason you didn’t go to the police at first—”

“They might think I’d done something.”

“You were afraid they’d think you had sexually abused her.”

“Yes.”

“Maureen.”

“Yes.”

“And that they’d beat you up if they found out.”

“If they found out, yes. If they thought I’d done it, do you understand?”

“Mr. Purchase, why did you kill Maureen?”

“I don’t know why.”

“Why did you kill Emily?”

“I don’t know.”

“Or Eve?”

“I don’t know.”

“Mr. Purchase, I’m going to turn off the tape recorder now, and have this interview typed up in transcript form for you to read before you sign it. At that time, if you want to change anything or add anything to it, you can do so. In the meantime, before I turn off the machine, is there anything you’d like to add to your statement?”

“Nothing.”

“Then that’s everything,” Ehrenberg said.