I 've Heard That Song Before

57

When the sheriff’s officers reported to Prosecutor Barbara Krause that Peter Carrington had attempted to leave his hospital room by forcibly pulling on the locked door, she immediately requested, and was granted, another emergent bail hearing just as Conner Banks had expected.

At 2:30 that afternoon, she and the defense attorneys and Peter Carrington once more stood before Judge Smith. And as before, the courtroom was filled with the media and dozens of spectators.

I sat with Vincent Slater in the row behind Markinson and Banks. It’s difficult to express how I felt. I guess the best way to put it is to say that I felt numb. In the space of a few days-by opening the possibility that Susan had been the woman I overheard in the chapel all those years ago-I had, according to Peter’s attorneys, established a motive for him to have murdered her. I had seen the stained shirt he was wearing the night Susan disappeared, and I had paid one million dollars to his stepmother to get it from her. It was blackmail, but I felt I had no choice. And then after paying that money, I’d been held up for more blackmail. I had also visited Susan Althorp’s closest friend and learned that Susan had referred to Gary Barr as “her pal.” So much was happening, and I was still trying to make sense of it.

I watched as Peter, my husband, my love, was led into the court, emotionally wounded and degraded, wearing shackles and manacles, paraded around for all the world to see on the evening news.

The prosecutor had a triumphant yet outraged air about her as she got up to speak. With every word she uttered, I hated her more.

“Your Honor, this is the second time that this man, who is indicted for two murders, and is a suspect in one other death, has violated the conditions of his bail. The first time, he left his home and went on the property of Susan Althorp’s family, which caused them enormous distress. One of the police officers who attempted to arrest him was seriously assaulted. Last night, Peter Carrington attempted to force open the door of his hospital room in yet another attempt to escape. The sheriff’s officers reported to me that he desperately pulled on the door for at least a minute. Fortunately, he was not successful.”

Peter, I thought, Peter. What are you thinking? Why is this nightmare happening to us?

“Your Honor,” the prosecutor was saying, “the state moves that the twenty-five-million-dollar bail posted by Peter Carrington for the purpose of allowing him to go to the Sleep Disorders Center overnight be forfeited. We ask that he now remain in the Bergen County Jail while he awaits trial. It is hard to imagine a person who would constitute a greater risk of flight than he does.”

Conner Banks had been waiting impatiently for the prosecutor to finish. Now it was his turn. I watched as he arose from his chair at the defense table and prepared to address the judge. He had a confident air about him that gave me a measure of hope. He glanced at the prosecutor as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard; then he began his argument.

“Your Honor, let’s talk about the risk of flight. If Peter Carrington wanted to leave the country, he could have done it over twenty years ago. Instead he has lived in his own home, tried to ignore the scurrilous rumors, cooperated with all the investigations, and now, knowing he would never willingly harm another human being, he has tried to find an explanation for the crimes he may have committed. Or that he may not have committed.”

It was far too soon for me to have any response from the child I was carrying, but I swear I felt a phantom kick of approval.

Conner continued with his argument: “The entire purpose of the neurological testing at the sleep disorder clinic was to determine whether Peter Carrington is a sleepwalker, and, if he is, to determine the severity and frequency of this problem. I have been informed by my client’s doctors that his neurological readings, when he is asleep, are highly irregular, and clearly indicative of a person with a serious sleepwalking disorder called parasomnia. The doctors who have viewed the tape of this incident have told me that, in their judgment, it was clearly a sleepwalking episode, and that he was totally unaware of his actions.”

He’s doing a good job, I thought. Please God, let the judge believe him.

“Your Honor,” Banks said, his voice rising, “we do not dispute that Peter Carrington got up and attempted to leave the room. However, given the substantial security measures that were in place, of which Peter Carrington was not only aware, but was paying for, it is abundantly clear that this episode was the result of his being afflicted with this terrible disorder. Your Honor, as per your previous order, he spent the night at the center, and now has been returned to jail. It would be a terrible injustice to forfeit the twenty-five-million-dollar bail as a result of actions over which he had no control.”

Judge Smith had listened intently to both sides. He looked up, and our eyes locked for just a second before he addressed the courtroom. What did he see when he looked at me? I wondered. Did he see the way I am pleading with him to understand? I felt my heart pounding as he began to speak.

“I can candidly state that this is the most unusual set of circumstances that I have ever encountered with respect to a bail hearing,” he said. “I am fully aware that sleepwalking may be an issue in Mr. Carrington’s upcoming trial. I, of course, am taking no position at this time regarding the merits of the state’s case, or the validity of any sleepwalking defense. The sole issue today is whether Mr. Carrington deliberately attempted to violate the conditions of his bail, and whether he should forfeit the twenty-five million dollars he posted. Defense counsel does not dispute that Mr. Carrington attempted to leave the hospital room in which he was confined.”

I looked at the prosecutor. An angry frown was forming on her face. Dear God, let that mean that the judge isn’t going to make Peter forfeit that bail. Because if he does make him forfeit it, it will mean he believes Peter was putting on an act.

The judge continued: “The defense counsel has proffered substantial indication that the medical testing has revealed a serious sleepwalking disorder. It is also a fair argument that Peter Carrington was fully aware of the intense security surrounding him, which would have made any attempt to escape a virtual impossibility. It is also true, as defense counsel notes, that Mr. Carrington had both agreed to and paid for this intense security. Under all of these circumstances, and again recognizing that the entire purpose of the hospital’s evaluation was focused on whether there was or was not a sleepwalking disorder, this court is not convinced that Mr. Carrington consciously tried to escape, or otherwise deliberately violated conditions of his bail. The state’s concern about flight is legitimate, and the defendant will remain in jail pending his trial. But given the information before me, I will not order the forfeiture of the twenty-five million dollars bail.”

At last we had a sort of victory. I felt myself slump in my seat. Vincent Slater patted my shoulder, an unusual gesture for him to make. “Kay, this is really important,” he said, his voice full of relief and concern.

Slater so seldom showed any emotion that I was both surprised and touched. I had always thought of him as someone who was efficient and devoted to Peter’s interests, but otherwise was basically cold and unresponsive. His reaction offered an unexpected glimpse into the interior Vincent Slater. Of course, I reminded myself, he was undoubtedly thrilled about the return of the twenty-five-million-dollar bail.

I was allowed a few minutes with Peter while he was in the holding cell. “Kay,” he said, “last night I was dreaming of kneeling on the Althorps’ lawn, the way I was when the cops arrested me. When I was trying to open the door, it was because, in my dream, I had to go there again.” His voice dropped to a whisper so that the guard standing nearby could not hear him. “But last night was different.” He paused. “I thought that Gary Barr was sitting in the room watching me.”