called Hope and confirmed the young man’s story, he authorized two officers to drive him to Washington in a public safety car. Crocker and Allen were about to go off duty, but they volunteered to take him.
“How long does it take to get to Washington?” Allen asked him.
“An hour and a half if I drive,” Chris Pritchard said.
Traveling at the speed limit, the trip normally took about two and a quarter hours.
The three left Raleigh about six. Allen was driving, Chris Pritchard riding in the front seat with him.
Chris said little as they began the trip, and after fifteen minutes, Allen asked him if he’d like to get into the backseat and try to sleep. Chris said yes, and Allen pulled off the road so that Chris and Crocker could exchange places. Soon after Allen pulled back onto the highway, his backseat passenger was curled up, fast asleep.
Melvin Hope did not understand how the young woman before him could be so unemotional. Angela Pritchard answered his questions as if she had been not at all distressed by the terrible events of the morning.
She had just graduated from Washington High and would be going to Greensboro College, a prestigious private school, in the fall, she said. She told Hope about going out riding with her friend Donna Brady the night before. Donna had let her out in front of the house a little before eleven. Her stepfather had been in bed but her mother had been up watching TV. They’d talked briefly and she’d gone on up to her room. She went to sleep about twelve-thirty, and the next thing she knew, Danny Edwards was waking her. She hadn’t seen or heard anything. Melvin was incredulous that she’d heard nothing, but he tried not to show it when he pressed her on it. Well, she explained, she was a heavy sleeper. And her door was closed, and her fan was blowing on her. She’d slept with a fan blowing on her since she was a baby.
The young woman seemed so detached that Melvin finally said, “Look, do you realize what’s happened here?”
“Yes,” she said. “My mother and stepfather have been stabbed and my stepfather’s dead.”
Only when she mentioned that her stepfather was dead did her voice crack and she display the first sign of distress to Hope.
A little before six, Francis Brady, an executive with an area TV station, answered his doorbell in Smallwood to find Angela Pritchard and Andrew Arnold at his door.
“Is Donna up?” Angela asked.
“Should she be?” Brady asked, thinking perhaps his daughter had made plans that she had forgotten.
“My stepfather’s been stabbed and Mother’s in the hospital,” Angela told him.
Shocked, Brady invited the young pair into his den, and when his wife, Lillian, came to see who was calling, Brady told her what had happened and she went immediately to wake Donna.
Donna came into the den shortly and went straight to hug Angela. Later, she said that she thought Angela was almost about to cry.
Melvin Hope returned to 110 Lawson Road, and he and Captain Danny Boyd decided to go to the hospital to see if they might be able to talk to Bonnie Von Stein. The detectives hoped to get some description of her attacker so that they could put out an alert.
Dr. Cook gave permission for them to ask a few questions, but they found Bonnie “befuddled and kind of whacked out,” unable even to tell them whether the intruder was black or white.
“It was dark,” she kept saying.
Chris Pritchard did not stir in the backseat of the N.C. State Safety Patrol car until Allen and Crocker had found their way to the Beaufort County Law Enforcement Center, only to discover that they had come to the wrong place. Chris directed them instead to the Washington Police Department a few blocks away. They arrived about eight-thirty, and Sergeant Hope was not there. He had gone home to shower and change clothes. While they awaited his return, Chris nervously paced.
Hope arrived shortly, shaved and wearing a suit. He told Chris that he had left the hospital
“How long does it take to get to Washington?” Allen asked him.
“An hour and a half if I drive,” Chris Pritchard said.
Traveling at the speed limit, the trip normally took about two and a quarter hours.
The three left Raleigh about six. Allen was driving, Chris Pritchard riding in the front seat with him.
Chris said little as they began the trip, and after fifteen minutes, Allen asked him if he’d like to get into the backseat and try to sleep. Chris said yes, and Allen pulled off the road so that Chris and Crocker could exchange places. Soon after Allen pulled back onto the highway, his backseat passenger was curled up, fast asleep.
Melvin Hope did not understand how the young woman before him could be so unemotional. Angela Pritchard answered his questions as if she had been not at all distressed by the terrible events of the morning.
She had just graduated from Washington High and would be going to Greensboro College, a prestigious private school, in the fall, she said. She told Hope about going out riding with her friend Donna Brady the night before. Donna had let her out in front of the house a little before eleven. Her stepfather had been in bed but her mother had been up watching TV. They’d talked briefly and she’d gone on up to her room. She went to sleep about twelve-thirty, and the next thing she knew, Danny Edwards was waking her. She hadn’t seen or heard anything. Melvin was incredulous that she’d heard nothing, but he tried not to show it when he pressed her on it. Well, she explained, she was a heavy sleeper. And her door was closed, and her fan was blowing on her. She’d slept with a fan blowing on her since she was a baby.
The young woman seemed so detached that Melvin finally said, “Look, do you realize what’s happened here?”
“Yes,” she said. “My mother and stepfather have been stabbed and my stepfather’s dead.”
Only when she mentioned that her stepfather was dead did her voice crack and she display the first sign of distress to Hope.
A little before six, Francis Brady, an executive with an area TV station, answered his doorbell in Smallwood to find Angela Pritchard and Andrew Arnold at his door.
“Is Donna up?” Angela asked.
“Should she be?” Brady asked, thinking perhaps his daughter had made plans that she had forgotten.
“My stepfather’s been stabbed and Mother’s in the hospital,” Angela told him.
Shocked, Brady invited the young pair into his den, and when his wife, Lillian, came to see who was calling, Brady told her what had happened and she went immediately to wake Donna.
Donna came into the den shortly and went straight to hug Angela. Later, she said that she thought Angela was almost about to cry.
Melvin Hope returned to 110 Lawson Road, and he and Captain Danny Boyd decided to go to the hospital to see if they might be able to talk to Bonnie Von Stein. The detectives hoped to get some description of her attacker so that they could put out an alert.
Dr. Cook gave permission for them to ask a few questions, but they found Bonnie “befuddled and kind of whacked out,” unable even to tell them whether the intruder was black or white.
“It was dark,” she kept saying.
Chris Pritchard did not stir in the backseat of the N.C. State Safety Patrol car until Allen and Crocker had found their way to the Beaufort County Law Enforcement Center, only to discover that they had come to the wrong place. Chris directed them instead to the Washington Police Department a few blocks away. They arrived about eight-thirty, and Sergeant Hope was not there. He had gone home to shower and change clothes. While they awaited his return, Chris nervously paced.
Hope arrived shortly, shaved and wearing a suit. He told Chris that he had left the hospital
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