A Death in Canaan Page 10

  P:

  You don’t have a cold-blooded killer sitting here.

  K:

  Then we have a guy with a problem. Now, tell me the problem, and we’ll get you home so you can get some sleep, and Monday morning you talk to a doctor. You know, very few doctors work on Sunday.

  P:

  Very few doctors work.

  K:

  That’s why I said Monday. Pete, I know people, and you certainly aren’t a killer, all right? We gotta find out what it is. We have to get it out in the open. What did she say to you when you came in the house?

  P:

  The only answer I can think of would be from another night, when she might give me hell. “You’re late, why are you late?” Something like that.

  K:

  Was she mad at you last night? She flew off the handle at you?

  P:

  I can’t think of any reason.

  K:

  Why don’t I let you sit here for a couple of minutes and meditate by yourself?

  P:

  I’m so damned exhausted.

  K:

  Yeah, but I think it’s all coming out now. I might be confusing you. I’m just gonna walk out now. You just meditate there.

  P:

  I’m just gonna fall asleep.

  K:

  No you won’t. I bet you won’t fall asleep.

  Kelly left. OOOHHH! Peter said loudly. A little later, Kelly returned.

  K:

  I just called the investigators up in Canaan and from what I’m learning now I think I have a reason why it happened. They’ve talked to your friends. Every one of them said that your mother was always on your back. I think this is probably the whole thing. Last night you came in the house, she started buggin’ you again. Am I right?

  P:

  I would say you’re right, but I don’t remember doing the things that happened. I believe I did it, now.

  K:

  I know that you know that you did it, but I feel you’re afraid to come out and say it. I have no reason to hurt you, but I have reason to help you. I get more pleasure out of helping somebody, I want you to know that. I think you want to tell me, but you’re ashamed to tell me.

  P:

  But do I realize I’m ashamed?

  K:

  Yes, you do. You tried to wash your mother off. That’s why her clothes were all wet. You were ashamed.

  P:

  I don’t remember that, though. Can you give me any more information about what they found up there?

  K:

  No. I told you what they learned. They learned your mother was constantly on your back, constantly nagging you, constantly after you. That’s what I just learned on the phone. Last night you came home—you’re a man—she started nagging and bitching and moaning and you lost control.

  P:

  It seems like that’s what would have happened, but I don’t remember it happening.

  K:

  Peter, you still don’t trust me. What I want you to do is to tell me how it happened and then you’re home free. You’re halfway through the battle.

  P:

  I do trust you. But I have to say things to myself, too. I don’t know what to say to myself to get these things out of me.

  K:

  If you trust me, tell me how you did it and I promise that we’re on the uphill swing. I can understand you doing something like this, if she was constantly on ya. This could happen to anybody. This is just like a prisoner being tortured. The prisoners of war—these are whole Americans. They beat them down and beat them down and they finally say anything they want to hear, and they give out secrets, but they’re still good Americans. It’s the same situation here. Your mother kept nagging and nagging and finally you lost your self-control and you ended the nagging. It’s exactly like I said—a prisoner being captured. You were captured by your mother. She wouldn’t liberate you. She treated you like a little kid, but the law says you’re a grown man. You’ve been nagged so badly; that phone call told me how she treated you. Am I right, Pete?

  P:

  You’re right. Something’s coming.

  K:

  Come on Pete, tell me. I told you the truth. Now I want to hear the truth from you.

  P:

  Somewhere in my head a straight razor sticks in.

  K:

  OK. What did you do with the straight razor?

  P:

  It’s not that I had it. It’s because there was a straight razor in the house.

  K:

  All right.

  P:

  And, when I looked for it, it was gone.

  K:

  When was this?

  P:

  This was last night and I thought—and I asked one of the police officers if it was there because they said there were some cuts or something. I asked if they looked like they could have been done with a straight razor or razor or something. They said they didn’t know yet.

  K:

  Did she hit you first or did you hit her first? I think she hit you first. Am I right? She wasn’t feeling good, she called the doctor, and she was pissed off because you weren’t there.

  P:

  I don’t think she hit me, though. But I don’t think I have the power to break somebody’s legs.

  K:

  When you’re in a state like this, you become powerful. The adrenaline. You become twice, three times your normal strength under a stress situation, and I think what we had there last night was a stress situation. We know she was upset because she called the doctor.

  P:

  Maybe she wanted to go to Sharon Hospital and was upset because I had the car. That seems like a good reason. Sir, do you suppose I could get something to drink?

  K:

  Sure. Would you like a soda?

  P:

  Can I get a Coke?

  K:

  I’ll have Jack go down and get some.

  P:

  Do you think I could have anything to eat, too?

  K:

  There’s nothing to eat here. I’m getting a little hungry myself. But I think we should iron this thing out before we leave. You wouldn’t be able to eat with this thing prying on your mind, you know what I mean?

  P:

  I feel hungry, then I feel like there’s a pit in my stomach.

  K:

  Must be Jack with the sodas.

  J:

  Anything else, Tim?

  K:

  No, that’s good, Jack.

  This could be the whole thing. If we put a dinner in front of you, you wouldn’t be able to eat it. Once we get this out you’re going to eat like you’ve never eaten before.

  P:

  I been losing weight. I been missing meals.

  K:

  You can tell me how you think it happened. An argument?

  P:

  I could have got mad on the way home, maybe. The way the car was running, or something. I probably would have confronted her with the fact that she’s got to get a new car. And from there, I’m blank. But whatever it is, it’s got to do with her being in bed. Doesn’t it?

  K:

  Did she get up and throw the book at you?

  P:

  No. As a matter of fact, the book was on the table in the living room. Tell me something. Will I remember this? Will I remember all the details?

  K:

  A little bit. Yeah.

  P:

  There was a bicycle—in the bedroom—near the wall. The way to get it in and out was through the back door, and they said the back door was open.

  K:

  Were you going for a bike ride?

  P:

  In the middle of the night? Not this kid. I haven’t been on a bicycle in so long, not since I got my license.

  K:

  Tell me. You just thought of something. I can almost read it on your forehead.

  P:

  I’m just thinking of how tired I am.

  K:

  Once yo
u get this out you’ll be able to sleep for a week because your conscience will be free.

  P:

  When I get this out will I be totally cured? I feel so free now, like things that have had hold of me are letting go. It started last night when I started to fill out statements.

  K:

  Right. Because you don’t have any more nagging, that’s why.

  P:

  But the first thing I thought of, when I woke up, was that they were really giving me a rough time and I had to call my mom to help because if I ever got in trouble she’d be right there. And then I realized what happened.

  K:

  OK.

  P:

  Gotta keep digging. Gotta dig. Gotta keep pushing. I believe I did it.

  K:

  I know you did it.

  As Peter Reilly and Sergeant Kelly were talking, it was nearly dinnertime in Canaan. Mickey Madow had spent the day at an ambulance drill in Goshen. When he came home and found that Peter still wasn’t back, he decided not to call the barracks again. Instead, he went over to see what was going on. It was just six o’clock when he talked with Sergeant Salley, who told him that Peter was cooperating with the investigation. But Mickey was worried now. “Does Peter need a lawyer?” Mickey later remembered asking Sergeant Salley. “No,” the officer said. “Not at this point.”

  At that point, Lieutenant Shay made a phone call from Hartford to Canaan barracks. He told an aide to find the public defender.

  And at that point, Joe O’Brien of the Hartford Courant was closing his story of the murder. He called the barracks and asked whether they had any suspects in custody. The police said they did not.

  Back in the polygraph room, Peter Reilly was telling Sergeant Kelly he thought he did it, and Sergeant Kelly was telling Peter Reilly he knew he did it, so there was a certain irony, a melancholy coincidence, in the timing of these conversations and calls. Eventually though, there was such an accumulation of ironies in the Peter Reilly affair that one irony, more or less, scarcely seemed to matter.

  K:

  Right now what you and I are trying to do is iron this thing out so we can get rid of this problem.

  P:

  I wanted to take that test because I believe I didn’t do it.

  K:

  No. You want this to come out.

  P:

  I remember something about her really bitching. I remember cigarettes on the table. I picked one up and lit it, but I don’t know when it was.

  K:

  Was it the last cigarette in the house?

  P:

  No.

  K:

  As I said, when I made that phone call and they told me what she did to you—calling your friends up and all this kind of crap—then I realized what happened. That’s when I realized we had a problem, OK?

  P:

  Maybe I’m imagining it. But it seems to be coming out. Me yelling, “leave me alone.”

  K:

  Now what happened?

  P:

  I don’t know.

  K:

  Let me ask you a very personal question. Have you ever had relations with your mother?

  P:

  No. I was asked that yesterday. I remember her having relations with another man, though.

  K:

  I heard about that. We won’t go into that.

  P:

  When I was little, we were superclose. Once she started having relations with this other guy, it started going downhill. If something like that ever happened to me again …

  K:

  No, I don’t think this would happen to you again. But we gotta get it out. If we don’t, man, you got a problem. The thing is, you got to tell me.

  P:

  It’s got something to do with cars. She harped at me a lot about that model T. Get that junk out of here.

  K:

  So last night was the night. I don’t think you planned anything.

  P:

  Oh no.

  K:

  This was no premeditated thing. I think you just had it right up to here, and it snapped, and you did it. It’s as simple as that.

  P:

  The thing that bothers me, what right I had to take her life?

  K:

  I don’t think you realized what you were doing.

  P:

  I know. But I still can’t—I still can’t—

  K:

  All right, Peter, I agree with you.

  P:

  I’m hung up for words right now.

  K:

  I agree with you one hundred percent. But it has happened. We cannot change that. You’re not the first guy and you won’t be the last guy …

  P:

  The whole thing I’m worrying about is jail.

  K:

  Peter, don’t worry about things like that.

  P:

  That’s not going to help, throwing me in jail.

  K:

  Damn right it’s not going to help, throwing you in jail. I’ve said that for many years. I’m the guy that says, “This guy needs some help from a doctor.” And they’ll take my word for this. They’ll get you help with a doctor.

  P:

  I spoke to Mrs. Beligni last week about could I move up there? And she said no, because my mom would be calling up constantly. Everybody I know has a really nice home.

  K:

  I think this is what’s bothering you, Pete.

  P:

  Should I keep going?

  K:

  Yes, go right ahead.

  P:

  I never had my own car. I had my mom’s. Every time I tried to do something for myself … made a deal, tried something … even if I came out on top … she’d say I was a dope.

  K:

  That’s terrible.

  P:

  But now that she is gone, I think about going to these friends of mine—and it’s fantastic. When I’m there I’m like another son. The thing is, now I don’t want to go there. I don’t have any apron strings.

  K:

  Now you’re emancipated. You’re a man. You’re eighteen.

  P:

  I wanted to move out, and everybody told me, “Don’t leave your mother all alone.”

  K:

  I think you should have, Pete. It unties the apron strings.

  P:

  I didn’t move out because I wanted to go to school. I don’t think people had the right to tell me not to move out.

  K:

  From what you’ve told me so far, I think you should have.

  P:

  I always thought I should.

  K:

  Now we have the reason, we have to know how. Let’s get this out, then we’ll get you some nice dinner once we get this out in the open. What was the hassle about when you got home?

  P:

  I don’t remember. But I got the feeling like I was hitting her. I remember using this arm. But I don’t have any marks on it.

  K:

  Not necessary to have marks.

  P:

  Maybe I do. I do have red knuckles. One red knuckle.

  K:

  Of course, that ring would protect your hand, anyway. Keep going now. We know why. Because of all this hassling and shit you’ve been taking for the past couple of years …

  P:

  I got a feeling it is going to come out.

  K:

  I know it is.

  P:

  After it’s out, I want to try making it on my own—before I go to any psychiatrist—because I don’t think I was responsible for my actions last night.

  K:

  I don’t either. I don’t think you’re a vicious man.

  P:

  I’ve never been given a second chance at anything.

  K:

  You’ll get your second chance. If we don’t get this out in the open, there’s no second chance.

  P:

  Gotta find out.

  K:

  All right. You remember hit
ting her, right? How does the straight razor come in?

  P:

  I don’t know. We got it for model airplanes.

  K:

  I have one myself. I build boat models.

  P:

  A couple of times my friends would say, let’s go out, and I’d say, I think I’ll stay home and work on my model. Once I spent twenty dollars on wood and glue. She yelled, and she’s the one that started me. I love building models. There’s something about building things like that, you feel you’re accomplishing something. I’m in the middle of a Newport.

  K:

  The one I’m building is very complicated—a revolutionary war ship. It was built in Massachusetts, the U.S.S. Rattlesnake. Someday I’ll get it done. It’s relaxing.

  P:

  I like to build the fuselage the most. I had the Newport out, a Newport spy plane, out on the table a couple of days and she yelled at me for having it out. She threatened to throw it in the garbage.