Jane Doe No More (50 page)

John and Donna got up early the next morning and were at the courthouse by ten o’clock, waiting for the proceedings to begin. Donna had been told that Regan’s former coworker would meet her there, so they could sit in solidarity together.

Shackled and handcuffed, Regan was brought into the courtroom. It had been a year since he had stepped foot in Waterbury. He was balder, had put on more weight, and had a look like he wanted to get things over with and get his sentence so he could start working on that time ahead of him. He walked into the courtroom, his eyes on the floor, nodding to his attorneys—a yes here, a no there—ready and willing to plead his cases and serve his time.

The proceeding was brief and, as expected, the cases were postponed until the following week, October 26.

As Donna sat inside the courtroom listening to Regan’s case being discussed, she noticed Sue Simpson from
Dateline
sitting in the gallery. They “made eye contact” at one point, as Donna later wrote in her notes, and Simpson “signaled” that she wanted to meet with Donna and talk after the proceeding.

“Hi,” Donna said softly, and then turned back around. Donna noticed at one point that Simpson was speaking to Regan’s attorney, no doubt asking him about appearing on the show and maybe even trying to convince him that Regan should also do the interview.

Donna and John soon got up and walked out of the courtroom. There was nothing more for them to do here. Donna had no intention of speaking with Simpson, especially in public. She was having a difficult enough time with Regan being in town and was constantly worried, family and friends later said, that Regan would somehow escape and come after her. The meetings and discussions she had with NBC were supposed to be private. Donna had clearly spelled that out in the agreement Simpson and NBC had signed.

As Donna walked out of the courthouse with John, Simpson made what Donna called a “beeline” for her, calling out, “Rachael . . . Rachael.”

Simpson followed Donna and John as they walked toward the street.

“Rachael,” Simpson said again, raising her voice.

Donna ignored her.

“Rachael . . .”

Donna turned, looked back at the producer, and said, “No.”

Donna and John had their say in court on October 26, 2006, which had become sentencing day for John Regan after he decided to plead guilty to two of the three cases (Donna’s and the coworker’s). That third case, from 1981, SA Connelly had explained to Donna and Regan’s former coworker, had to be dropped. Connelly never said exactly why, but the speculation was that with the woman unwilling to take it any further and the case built around a he said–she said argument, without her, the case would have fizzled. Why waste the court’s time and the taxpayer’s money on what would be a losing proposition.

Unfortunately, on this day there would be nothing to celebrate by the time everyone left the courtroom. Regan pleaded under the Alford Doctrine, which gave him the opportunity not to admit any wrongdoing. The Alford Doctrine has been in American courts since 1970 (
North Carolina v. Alford
). In that North Carolina case, according to the Supreme Court ruling: “An individual accused of crime may voluntarily, knowingly, and understandingly consent to the imposition of a prison sentence even if he is unwilling or unable to admit his participation in the acts constituting the crime . . . a defendant intelligently concludes that his interests require entry of a guilty plea and the record before the judge contains strong evidence of actual guilt.”

Regan was saying he didn’t do it, but that he believed the SAO had enough evidence to prove he did. He had already finagled his way out of the 1981 case. Now, it seemed, he was worming his way out of Donna’s and his former coworker’s cases too. How appalling. How disheartening.

I felt powerless over the situation. It was maddening to think that we had irrefutable DNA evidence proving that John Regan [was at the scene of the crime] and yet he could not be arrested for, or charged with, sexual assault. Makes no sense. I knew that he would likely have gotten forty years in my case
alone
had he been arrested for the crime of rape, which we all felt that he had committed. Ultimately, it wasn’t my call, and I was frustrated by the loopholes and conditions that protect predators and disregard victims.

There was a brief interruption in the middle of the court proceedings when a fire alarm went off and the entire building was evacuated. Most everyone from the courtroom walked across the street to Library Park. As Donna and John stood with Maureen Norris, waiting to go back into the courtroom, she worried anxiously that Regan would somehow escape from custody, that maybe the alarm was a ploy of some sort to allow him to get away. It was frightening and disturbing, Maureen later described, to watch Donna continually victimized by Regan and his presence. This was what Donna as a sexual assault victim faced every day, not to mention the revictimization she had suffered at the hands of the WPD. All these years later, she still didn’t trust the WPD with Regan.

When everyone was allowed back into the courtroom, Donna finally had her chance to speak, addressing Regan’s crimes publicly for the first time. To her credit, Donna Palomba took the high road and kept her comments brief, expressing herself strongly and eloquently: “Your honor, it is not for me to judge,” Donna said, her voice resolute, firm. “I believe John Regan’s ultimate fate will be decided upon by God. John Regan is a repeat offender. He is calculating and dangerous. And I pray that he never has the ability or the opportunity to harm another person for the rest of his life.”

And that was that—Donna Palomba was finished.

John Palomba, however, had a few more words than his wife for the man he had once thought of as one of his best friends. He started by calling Regan a “punk,” finishing that part of his statement with “coward.” He said Regan was a “
disgrace
to his family and friends.” There was genuine anger in John’s voice; it was clear that Regan had taken up way too much of John Palomba’s headspace over the years, and it was high time for Regan to hear his former friend’s voice ringing in his ears along that lonely road that lay ahead.

“I urge you to make sure this creep,” John said, addressing the judge, “is kept in prison for as long as possible because he
will
attack again.”

Regan stood with his head bowed, as usual, a look of indifference on his face. He acted as if he was disgusted and inconvenienced by having to listen to Donna and John talk about him in this way. He had pleaded guilty to kidnapping, unlawful restraint, and stalking. That was the deal Regan’s lawyers had negotiated. The charges were based on Donna’s and Regan’s coworker’s cases packaged as one. Had John Regan gone to trial and lost, he would have faced what some reports estimated was up to thirty-six years in prison. This deal would set him back fifteen years. He would also have to register as a sex offender for ten years.

SA Connelly told reporters he believed this was the best the SAO could do and the stiffest possible sentence they could achieve “under the circumstances.”

The biggest shock was that Regan had plea-bargained his cases into a concurrent sentence—meaning that he would only have to serve an additional three years for the Connecticut cases. He’d serve twelve years in New York and then owe Connecticut three years upon his release.

One of the more dramatic moments of the proceeding came when a victim’s advocate read a letter written by Regan’s former coworker, who was too scared to read the letter herself. The coworker had been re-traumatized by the discovery of those eerie photographs (of her) that had been found in Regan’s van and at Wal-Mart, which clearly proved how obsessed Regan had been with her, even
after
being caught and out on bond in Donna’s case. A small portion of the letter she had written put it all into perspective: “He has come after me twice and I fear for my life.” As that sentence echoed throughout the courtroom, the woman began to shake and broke down in tears. She told reporters later that she suffered from heart palpitations, post-traumatic stress, and anxiety attacks. Her life would never be the same.

Of course, Regan had zero reaction to those chilling words, at times only shifting his weight from one foot to the other, acting as if the court was wasting his time.

Not one friend or family member showed up in the courtroom to support Regan.

It was surreal and anticlimactic. It was maddening seeing Regan standing there with no remorse. The Alford Doctrine is the wimp’s way out. He never said anything other than one-word answers to the judge’s questions. His . . . attorneys spoke about his rights and [one of them] wanted it to be stated that Regan could appeal the decision that mandated he be registered as a sex offender.

CHAPTER
THIRTY
-
EIGHT

Change

With John Regan’s Connecticut cases fully adjudicated, it was time for Donna to make her decision about
Dateline.
Even after careful reflection, she still wasn’t sure whether coming out and being a voice for rape survivors was the right choice for her. And John Palomba wasn’t so thrilled about going public with the story and his wife becoming the spokesperson for sexual assault victims. In fact, John was mortified that private Palomba matters would be aired to such a wide, national audience.

Still, it was Donna’s call. She had gone through the hell that had become her life after that night Regan had maliciously changed things in the Palomba house forever.