...And Never Let HerGo

presented: the records from Tom’s phones, the picture of him at the ATM machine on the morning of June 28, receipts for the fishing cooler and for gasoline bought by two boaters in Stone Harbor on June 28, the receipt for the Beretta, all the interviews with Anne Marie’s friends and coworkers. It seemed that there could be no secrets about Anne Marie Fahey or Tom Capano left.
    But there were secrets still. And Debby, like many others, dreaded October 6 and what promised to be endless weeks of trial. Tom returned to his cell and unpacked his belongings, fuming that Debby’s failure to testify for him had cost him his freedom.
    B UT he didn’t give up. Within days, Tom began to bombard Debby with letters that would fill an entire book, letters designed to evoke guilt, love, despair.
    Dear Deb,
    So. I did open the envelope and I read it because I did not believe what I had been told. I am beyond shocked. The one thing I always thought, believed, loved, was that I could always rely on you and your unconditional love. To have that yanked away from me this week is almost too much to bear. And it was done coldly and with finality. I guess I always knew that this day would come but knowledge has not dulled the pain. I am, quite literally, numb with that sinking feeling in my stomach. I’ve been abandoned in my time of need by most of the people I cared about and who I thought cared about me. I would have bet my life on your unlimited devotion and loyalty. Perhaps that’s exactly what I have done—at least my freedom—and find that I have lost.
    And that was only the first paragraph in a letter that went on for many more pages. Tom wrote again the next day to chastise Debby about her gun statements to Colm Connolly. He said that she had missed her chance to vindicate herself in the media when she refused to testify at his bail hearing. “It was crucial Judge Lee heardand saw you instead of allowing Connolly to paint you as a liar and an adulteress. You chose not to allow that to happen. We will both have to live with the consequences. Good luck. I wish you happiness. Perhaps I’ll see you in October, but I doubt it.”
    Tom had controlled Debby for seventeen years. Now he used every manipulative trick he knew to bring her back to his side and his defense. With his written words, he pulled her closer, berated her, pushed her away, and then attempted to reel her back in. It was a hellish thing because she had loved him for a very long time, and she still did.
    Beyond making her feel guilty for betraying him, Tom set out to frighten her.
    They can still charge you with conspiracy or whatever if they really believe you are involved—which, of course, you are not. If they believe they have a weapon used to commit murder and can prove that,
and
they can also
prove
you bought the weapon to help me commit murder, then they will charge you with a crime. . . . Because Connolly is ruthless, he will threaten you with charges at some point to get you to change your story and testify against me at trial. He’s bluffing. Let’s suppose for the sake of argument they can prove the gun they showed you at the interview was the one you bought and has my fingerprints on it. Juicy, yes. But how can he prove it was used to commit murder? They don’t have a body to examine for gunshot wounds.
    Tom was aghast that Connolly would suggest that he controlled Debby. “The irony of Connolly thinking you are under my spell is rich because you generally do the exact opposite of what I suggest. Do you think I don’t consider these things before I offer advice?”
    He was furious with Debby, and almost every letter ended with a last farewell of some sort. But he kept writing—because he needed her testimony. Or perhaps because he was afraid of what she might say as a witness against him.

Chapter Thirty-four
    O N F EBRUARY 10, 1998, Debby retained a new attorney, Tom Bergstrom, who had a one-man law office in Malvern, Pennsylvania,a suburb of Philadelphia. A very tall, solid man with a good Midwestern face, who had practiced law for thirty years, he’d graduated from the University of Iowa and gone right into the marine corps for a four-year tour of duty in Southeast Asia. After he left the marines, he worked for the Department of Justice in its organized crime and racketeering section. Like Connolly, Bergstrom had worked as an assistant U.S. attorney; from 1975 he had run his own solo practice as a criminal trial attorney. His only