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.”