Tom looked utterly helpless. Gerry had to take charged. He turned the engines back on to maneuver the boat closer. He thought he was going to vomit. They were out here with some dead body. What if they couldn’t get it to sink?
They pulled up alongside the cooler and hauled it back onto the back. Tom stood there, staring at it, seemingly perplexed. Clearly, he had no Plan B. Gerry looked around, feeling a little desperate. What did he have to put more weight on this thing? He saw the anchors. He grabbed both and dumped them at Tom’s feet.
"You're on your own," he said. “Do what you have to do.”
He walked to another part of the boat and turned his back. But Gerry could still hear his brother struggle with the task. He heard a lock and jangling chains. He couldn’t believe there was a body on his boat. Then he heard the sound of vomiting. He nearly lost it himself. This was bad business. He sensed that Tom had opened the cooler and was wrapping something with the chain.
Soon, there was a loud splash. Gerry went to where Tom stood looking into the water. To his horror, he saw a human leg and foot disappear into the water, pulled down by the anchor. It was naked and it looked female. He closed his eyes. Who in the hell was that? The image remained. He wished he’d waited just a minute longer so he didn’t have to know for certain that his brother had killed someone and dumped the body into the ocean. He was now an accomplice to murder.
But what was done was done.
The cooler, stained inside with blood, stood empty. They used a screwdriver to remove the lid, cleaned out the blood, and tossed the whole thing overboard. It floated away. As they stood watching, it seemed like, in this enormous expanse of water, that little box would just become some random flotsam that no one would ever link to them. Only in the weeks to come would Gerry realize who Tom had thrown overboard.
GERRY WAS SPENT. He’d given the police everything they needed to charge his brother. He’d just crossed the point of no return. His family would hate him. His mother would disown him. She’d protect her firstborn, no matter what he’d done.
It wasn’t long before detectives used Gerry’s story to pressure Louis about the bloodstained love seat. He added that Tom had also dumped a gun. Although he’d dumped the love seat, it couldn’t be located. Still, they had Louis’s testimony, as long as he didn’t get cold feet and change it.
Police arrested Tom Capano on November 12 for the murder of Anne Marie Fahey. He seemed astonished and insulted. He insisted he was innocent. Denied bail, he sat in solitary confinement until his trial.
Despite the stories that Capano’s brothers had told, the case was highly circumstantial and it had a lot of glaring holes. Notably, there was no body and no murder weapon, there were no witnesses to the murder, and the key evidence could not be found. In addition, no witnesses came forward to say they had seen Gerry’s boat on the water on June 28th.
Then the prosecutors got a break.
During the July 4th weekend of 1996, a fisherman named Ken Chubb had gone out on his boat just off the shore near Ocean City, Maryland. He’d spent the day fishing and was heading home when he’d spotted something white floating in the water. It turned out to be a large cooler, missing its lid and one handle, but otherwise it seemed in good condition. It was practically new. He’d figured it was worth about $200. When he’d gotten close enough to grab it, he’d seen two holes in the side, as if someone had used the cooler for target practice. He’d noticed a pinkish stain inside, but didn’t think much of it. There was plenty of blood and guts involved with catching fish. He’d known he could bleach that out and patch the holes.
Once he heard about the story the suspect’s brother had told, he took the cooler to the police. It perfectly corroborated Gerry’s story. Gerry admitted that this was the cooler. This was solid evidence, but still not perfect.
There was little hope of finding a body after 17 months in the ocean. Detectives did acquire an ATM photo of Tom Capano withdrawing money on June 28, as Gerry had described, and they had receipts for the new rug and the cooler.
When the cooler was analyzed, technicians found lead residue around the holes, along with threads from red fabric. The Faheys had said that a red outfit was missing from Annie's apartment. Circumstantial, yes, but the “coincidences” were piling up. There were also witnesses who would testify about the trouble between Anne Marie and Tom Capano. Several would attest to how scared she’d been.
A key problem for the prosecution was the fact that Anne Marie had continued to accept gifts from Capano, as well as his invitation to dinner. Juries didn’t like women who were complicit in their own demise.
Capano had admitted to dumping the love seat, but he offered two different stories to explain the blood: 1) they had made love while she was on her period, and 2) she had slit her wrists one night while sitting on the couch. Since he’d already lied quite a bit, it wasn’t clear which story to accept, if any.
Jury selection for Capano’s trial began on October 6, 1998, with the opening statements coming nearly three weeks later. The entire trial would take three months. The prosecution team included state prosecutor Ferris Wharton and federal prosecutor Colm Connolly. Joseph Oteri led a four-man defense. Capano would pay nearly half a million before all was said and done, but he clearly did not trust his own handpicked team. From day one, he argued with them about their strategy. One member quit before the trial began.
It came out that Capano had cheated on his wife quite a lot. The prosecutor had found several mistresses who were willing to share titillating details about what Capano had required of them. The point of this was to show his dark, kinky side. The media ate it up.
Two psychologists testified about Anne Marie’s fear of Capano. She had said he was stalking her. Michelle Sullivan, who had treated Anne Marie during the four months previous to her death, stated that her anxiety disorder had worsened, because she’d felt that Capano was trying to control her. “He would come to her house,” she testified, “surprising her by going to places where she was going by herself. He made a large number of calls to her a day, something like 15, 20, 25 calls.” She had felt trapped, especially when he gave her extravagant gifts. Sullivan had tried to persuade the young woman to file an official complaint, but she’d resisted.
Another psychologist, Gary Johnson, had treated Anne Marie for about nine months. “It became apparent that she had difficulty with men,” he said. “It was difficult for her to understand how relationships worked.” She hadn’t mentioned Capano by name, but had talked about him. She’d said the relationship was “intense” and the man in question had sought to control her. He’d even trapped her in her own apartment on one occasion, for about four hours.
There was a surprise that turned the trial into the sordid, twisted tale for which the media hungered. For a few months, the defense's best witness was slated to be Debbie MacIntyre. She’d been Capano’s mistress for 17 years. Resisting at first, she’d finally given in to his attentions, and he’d been able to get her to do whatever he asked, including sex with other men that he could watch. He'd instructed her in what she should say, how she should dress, and to whom she should or shouldn't speak. In their letters, Capano had used a form of manipulative sadomasochism, layering insults and degradation with sweet affirmations.
Debbie had initially sided with Capano, but then she learned that she could be in serious trouble for perjury and lying on an ATF form. Suddenly, in return for immunity from prosecution, she agreed to testify for the state. She admitted that in May 1996, Capano had asked her to buy a gun for him, and he had not reimbursed her. Her admission supported the state's theory about premeditated murder.
Capano had been furious at this betrayal. But he had a plan. He could kill two birds with one stone, so to speak.
Before the trial, Capano had tried to hire a convicted cocaine dealer, Tito Rosa from Gander Hill prison, for $100,000 to find a hit man to kill Gerry and Debbie. This testimony was suppressed, but then Nick Perillo came forward and said that Capano had
tried to hire him to burglarize Debbie’s house. He turned over a detailed map, drawn by Capano, to his lawyers.
Capano went to Plan B. He stated that, yes, Anne Marie Fahey had died in his house, but he hadn’t killed her, Debbie had. He urged his attorneys to get her to admit that she’d come to his home, armed, on the night of June 27, 1996 and had shot Anne Marie out of jealousy. Then Capano had talked with her the next day about what to do with the body.
One of Capano's attorneys, Eugene Maurer, tried to get Debbie to admit involvement in Fahey's death. After noting how upset she had been to learn that Capano, 49, had been involved with Fahey, Maurer asked, “Didn't you in fact find out about Anne Marie Fahey not on July 2, but on June 27, 28th?”
“No, Mr. Maurer,” she said. “I never learned about Anne Marie Fahey until July 2.”
“Didn't you go to 2302 Grant Ave. June 27 or 28 with a firearm to visit Tom? Didn't you have your firearm at Tom Capano's house on that night when you first learned about Anne Marie Fahey?”
“No, I did not.”
Maurer kept at it. “And you deny your firearm discharged that night inside that house, striking her?”
MacIntyre was not getting pulled in. “I don't know what happened to that firearm. I gave that firearm to Tom on May 13.”
Maurer had no evidence that placed her at Capano's home that night, but it was clear that Capano's team was trying to use her to plant reasonable doubt in the mind of at least one member of the jury. If they couldn’t get outright acquittal, a hung jury was a good alternative.
To shore up their case, the defense attorneys offered an array of mental health experts. A psychiatrist who’d seen Anne Marie to dispense medication testified that she had issues with anxiety and depression, as well as with control. Another expert offered bizarre theories about Gerry Capano suffering from a condition called confabulation: he made things up to fill in memory gaps caused by drug use. His mother affirmed his feeble state of mind (probably as payback for dragging the family’s good name through the mud).
Capano wanted to make a big splash, too. He wanted to testify. He believed he’d make a good impression on the jury. This is typical of narcissists, especially those who believe they know how to run their own trial better than their high-priced attorneys. Oteri had never before let a murder defendant testify, but Capano ran the show. He was a former prosecutor. He’d initially wanted to defend himself. At the very least, he would take the stand. He insisted he knew what he was doing and that he would be effective. Oteri gave in.
The prosecutors awaited their prey.
Capano took the stand on December 16, 1998, swearing to tell the truth. He launched into a rambling personal history, although he wisely avoided describing how privileged he was as a member of the Capano family. He claimed that Anne Marie Fahey, a woman he’d cherished, had died in a tragic accident. For the first time, he would provide all the details. He would describe what had really occurred.
Capano’s testimony lasted eight days, much of which he spent verbally thrashing everyone who was trying to accuse him. The sum of it was that his younger brothers were liars and he did not kill Annie. If he hoped to show the jury that he did not have an obsessive, controlling personality, he’d failed. And that was just on the first day of his testimony.
The part of his tale that caught the media’s attention was his need to describe how open-minded he was about sexual matters. He offered so much detail that even the courtroom cops were uncomfortable. He seemed unaware of how his sexual escapades embarrassed his own family, humiliated his wife (now divorced from him) and shocked his daughters. To him, it was all about one's own taste, to which he was entitled. He expected that the jury would view him as an enlightened male.
For several days, Capano turned the tables on others. He said that Gerry had suggested breaking the legs of the person extorting him and described how a furious Debbie MacIntyre had barged into his house on June 27, 1996 with a gun. On that night, he and Annie were cuddled together on the love seat, watching TV. MacIntyre, a former mistress, had called. He'd put her off, but she'd come over, anyway. She came in and put the gun to her own head and threatened to kill herself. When he’d tried to take it from her, the gun went off and hit Annie in the back of the head. To protect Debbie, he’d covered it up, and she’d helped. He knew this decision had been wrong. He was ashamed of himself.
He’d then taken care of other details. It was his footsteps that the neighbor had heard on June 27th in Annie’s apartment. He’d gone there to make it appear that she’d been home. Since her car was already there, it hadn’t been difficult. He’d planted the purse.
Capano claimed he’d been devastated over losing his beloved Annie. He’d placed her body in the cooler and buried it at sea. He seemed proud of the fact that he hadn’t had to break her legs to make her fit. He had not purchased the cooler with murder on his mind, he insisted, but as a gift for his brother. He’d used a credit card. If that purchase had been for murder, he’d have been pretty stupid to leave a paper trail straight back to himself. After a while, he continued, he’d just "compartmentalized." He’d put aside his feelings so he could do what had to be done, such as creating an alibi.
This remark was a mistake. The prosecutor pointed out on cross-examination that Capano had been thinking more clearly than he'd admitted.
During the course of the trial, Capano was forced to confront someone whom he himself had successfully prosecuted and put into prison: Squeaky Saunders. Twenty years earlier, Saunders had shot someone and tried to dump him at sea. Wasn't this the very act, the prosecutor asked, that he was trying to replicate? Wasn’t this his inspiration?
Capano denied it, but the jury was listening closely.
Finally both sides offered closing arguments. The state insisted that Tom Capano had planned to kill Anne Marie Fahey, because she’d broken up with him. In cold blood, he had carried it out. The gun purchase and false alibi thoroughly implicated him. If it had been just an accident, why had it taken him so long to say so?
The defense reiterated that Debbie MacIntyre had killed Anne Marie by accident. Without a body, the prosecution could not prove otherwise. However, there was no actual evidence to support their scenario, either, aside from the word of a liar.
The case went to the jury.
FOR COURT TV, I ANALYZED THE situation psychologically. There are several layers to a narcissist who’s been indulged most of his life. He develops a sense of immunity, as if he’s so special he’s untouchable. He feels superior to others and believes that no one can resist his ability to dominate and manipulate.
Capano had been convinced that taking the stand to explain his version of the story would be persuasive, simply from the sheer force of his personality. Instead, it worked against him. Jury members were repulsed by his arrogance, need to blame others, and apparent lack of concern about Anne Marie as a victim. He’d shown no sorrow as he described packing her body into a cooler. He’d believed that protecting another woman would somehow convince the fact-finders that he was a good man, even chivalrous.
While the prosecutors offered the motive of control – if he couldn't have her, then no one could – the situation is likely more profound. This act of murder was not even about others; it was about how Anne Marie had defied Capano and violated his view of his own power. A narcissist pursues his own gratification through domination of others, and generally sees others as having lesser status than him. He’s fully entitled to what he wants.
But why react so strongly? Capano certainly had other mistresses, some of whom would do anything for him.
To a controlling narcissist, having his pick of women is not the point. He simply could not bear that Anne Marie had initiated a change. He was in charge. She was undermining him, taking away his narcissistic foundation. He would have the last word, as he told one reporter he always got. One way or another. If he had to kill her to reassert his power, he would.
Even as Capano awaited the verdict, he would have felt secure.
He’d have believed it would go in his favor. He’d have been certain that he’d told a credible story. He’d have selected an attorney who would reassure him.
Many people expected the verdict to be quick, but the six men and six women of the jury deliberated for three days. They examined, one piece at a time, over four hundred exhibits. They knew that a man’s life was at stake, because Judge Lee had allowed them to consider just one possible charge: first-degree murder.
Ultimately, the prosecution's final words had an effect: Capano had lied repeatedly. There was no reason to believe him now. He was duplicitous, self-serving, and arrogant. He’d admitted that Anne Marie had died at his house and he’d cover it up.
On Sunday, January 17, 1999, the jury came out and the foreman looked right at Capano to pronounce him guilty of first-degree murder.
The Faheys were relieved, the Capanos horrified. Outside, a cheer went up from the crowd. The majority believed in his guilt.
Next came the sentencing phase, with a bit of new evidence that probably made all the difference in what the jury ultimately decided. While in prison, Capano had put a known child molester in touch with his daughters so that he could get around the prison rules about communication. He seemed heartless. Also, the state demonstrated a pattern of behavior by showing that during the 1970s, he’d solicited the beating of a former love interest. Linda Marandola told jurors he stalked her for months after they had two sexual encounters. After she spurned him, Capano had hounded her so much that she’d moved out of state. Her former boss, also a friend of Capano’s, testified that Capano had told an FBI informant he wanted Marandola hurt for rebuffing him.
Despite relatives begging for mercy on Capano’s behalf, and Capano asking the jurors to be merciful to his family, a majority of them (10-2) recommended death. Judge William Swain Lee agreed. He called Capano a "ruthless murderer who feels compassion for no one and remorse only for the circumstances in which he finds himself. He is a malignant force from whom no one he deems disloyal or adversarial can be secure, even if he is incarcerated for the rest of his life."
Shadows of Death (True Crime Box Set) Page 19
