When I began watching “Staircase”, a Netflix series about the novelist, Michael Peterson, convicted of the 2001 murder of his wife, Kathleen, I thought I wouldn’t get past the first episode. The case was notable for a bizarre coincidence: both Kathleen and his previous wife, Elizabeth Ratliff, were found dead at the bottom of a staircase and both had lacerations on the back of their heads that may not have been consistent with a fall. Kathleen Peterson died in North Carolina while Elizabeth Ratliff died in Germany. Peterson’s family mostly supported him throughout the ordeals, although one daughter came to believe in his guilt and Kathleen’s two sisters ended the series filled with corrosive hatred that can only poison the rest of their own lives. “All are punish’ed,” Peterson quotes from Romeo and Juliet. The consequences of an unsolved murder (or any murder) have an everlasting effect upon everyone who comes in contact with it.
What compelled me to view the whole series was the focus on Peterson and his brilliant and faithful lawyer, David Rudolf. Despite some misgivings about Peterson himself, I was convinced early on by his attorney that he had been wrongly convicted. Later episodes showed that a supposed forensic expert doctored the evidence to make it appear as if Peterson was guilty. This malfeasance alone brought back all the sleazy machinations of ambitious prosecutors and Rubin Carter’s belief that “convictions are the fuel and grease of the justice system”. Indeed, Jim Hardin, the prosecutor in this case, is seen wearing a judge’s robe by the end of the series. When one considers that only 5% of all crimes are ever solved, it becomes plain that some inside the justice system will distort facts to achieve the desired results. The ends justify the means, especially if you think that the defendant is guilty, even if the evidence against him or her is weak.
Another element is the presence of prejudice, the same problem that beset Atif Rafay and Sebastian Burns. While Peterson was an adult and not as abrasive as Atif and Sebastian, he had a skeleton in the closet, a propensity for sex with male military hunks that he insisted his wife was aware of. The jury did not really need to know this, but the judge supported Hardin’s contention that it spoke to Peterson’s lack of truthfulness.
I was impressed by the filmmakers’ willingness to follow this case for more than a decade and to show the grueling and grinding nature of post-conviction law. Peterson ages twice as fast in the frightening atmosphere of prison as he would have on the outside. He walks like a man carrying the weight of the world, and, in a way, he is. His family is forced to suffer right along with him, for which he feels guilt. And, even when he is released for a new trial, he is forced to wear an ankle monitor for three years! Torture is not unusual in America, that is for sure.
In the end, the torture is only half-relieved. He is forced to take an Alford plea, rather than drag his family through another trial that would have taken a minimum of two more years. He has to plead guilty but is allowed to publicly proclaim his innocence. Wow! The system has an endless number of ways to screw you!