Portrait of a Monster: Joran Van Der Sloot, a Murder in Peru, and the Natalee Holloway Mystery (37 page)

Joran made it clear that he would only share the information if Beth paid the full sum.

In subsequent e-mails, Joran agreed to an initial payment of $25,000 to show Kelly where Natalee’s body had been buried. Upon recovery and confirmation of the remains, Joran would receive the remaining $225,000.

Joran e-mailed the lawyer bank information for an account he held in the Netherlands. He then asked that Kelly draw up a contract between Beth Twitty and him, outlining the terms of the agreement.

On April 15, Beth wired $100 to Joran’s account at the SNS Bank in the Netherlands to establish its functionality. She then wired $10,000 from her bank in Birmingham to her lawyer’s account in New York for Joran’s down payment. The remaining $15,000 was going to be wired to the Netherlands.

On May 10, John Kelly flew to Aruba to meet with Van der Sloot. The meeting took place in Kelly’s hotel room. He gave Joran $10,000 in cash, and the signed contract from Beth. Joran and Kelly each signed two copies, documenting the events in photographs.

Next, Joran waited while Kelly phoned Beth Twitty in Alabama. He told her all was going according to plan and to now wire the $15,000 to Joran’s account in the Netherlands. Once Joran confirmed that the transfer was complete, he and Kelly exited the hotel and climbed into the lawyer’s rented car.

Joran directed Kelly to a single-story house he claimed had been under construction in May 2005 within five miles of the Marriott. He insisted the body would be found within the home’s foundation.

Kelly pulled out his camera, and took a few photos of the house. He waited while Joran began his explanation: Joran started by claiming he had taken Natalee to the beach and that he had thrown her down on the ground when she tried to stop him from leaving. When she fell, she hit her head on a rock and died. He hid her body and returned home where he told his father what had happened. Joran claimed that Paulus accompanied him back to the location that night, but said he went back to the car while his father further concealed the remains. A few days later, Joran said that his father buried Natalee under the house. He said he did not actually see his father inter the young woman’s remains, but insisted that Paulus showed him the site later.

The unfolding of the extortion plot was an incredible coup, however untrue Joran’s narrative. Kelly had managed to capture the admission and the exchange of money on tape. He had contacted the FBI shortly after Joran’s first demands, and the agency had agreed to monitor the event. Aruban authorities were alerted and aware of the sting. The hotel room and rental car had been wired for surveillance. The mission was a complete success.

A review of the permit for the house that Joran had selected as the burial spot revealed there had been no foundation or structure at the location at the time of Natalee’s disappearance. Although a building permit had been requested for the parcel on May 26, 2005, and an inspection had been conducted on June 15, the permit was not issued until October 18, 2005, more than four months after Natalee vanished.

Furthermore, an interview with the contractor who had built the residence confirmed that the home was not under construction at that time. Aerial photographs of the parcel taken on May 29 and June 5, as part of the search for Natalee Holloway, showed no construction.

Although Beth Twitty had come no closer to finding out what had happened to her daughter, she had participated in a sting operation that she hoped would lead to federal charges of extortion and wire fraud against the man she was sure was responsible for her daughter’s death. Kelly flew back to the United States with enough evidence for an indictment. Meanwhile, Joran now had $10,000 in cash and $15,000 in his bank account at his disposal.

Fox News producer Steph Watts had cautioned the Twitty-Kelly team about dealing with the cad, when he learned from them what Joran had proposed. Watts had warned them not to give Joran any real money. Coincidentally, $25,000 was the standard asking rate of Joran’s “licensing” fee for an interview. Steph said the probability of Joran fleeing Aruba once he had the down payment was almost certain.

Once back in New York, John Kelly continued his e-mail correspondence with Joran, as the deal had a $225,000 outstanding balance. He underestimated the flight risk that Steph had cautioned them about. As far as he was concerned, the FBI was monitoring the situation, having been involved in the sting. The undercover extortion sting was kept under wraps.

Why the FBI hadn’t arrested Joran in the hotel in Aruba was harshly criticized. The FBI responded to the criticism that it should have moved immediately. They explained the extortion case was indeed a criminal event, but they were hoping Joran was going to lead them to a body and murder charges could follow.

Being so hell-bent on the murder conviction may have been short-sighted, but Beth Twitty held that as her ultimate prize, as well. In hindsight, Joran’s escape to Peru could have been avoided had an extortion charge been used to detain him. Instead, he managed to flee the country with $25,000 of extorted money, having only led his victims to another dead end of lies. The money, in turn, funded an opportunity for the horrific crime that followed. But nobody could have foreseen such tragedy.

Meanwhile, back in Birmingham, Alabama, the U.S. District Court was in the process of drafting an indictment against Joran for wire fraud and extortion. Aruban officials claimed they notified the FBI of Joran’s intention to leave the island, but the tips went unheeded and he fled.

Joran’s sudden departure took his mother by complete surprise. Anita had already arranged his flight to Holland, scheduled in two days, where he had agreed to receive inpatient psychiatric treatment. The written note she found on her kitchen table was to the point.

“I’ve gone, don’t worry,” Joran had written. “I’ve been invited to Peru to participate in a poker tournament.”

TWENTY-TWO

JUNE 4, 2010
CHILE-PERU BORDER CROSSING

Joran van der Sloot was in handcuffs when he arrived back at the Santa Rosa border crossing that Friday afternoon. Members of the Arica-Parinacota police department had escorted him the final twenty miles from the Arica airstrip to the immigration facility. Security was enormous, both the Chilean and Peruvian authorities providing extra officers for transfer of the high-profile fugitive.

Joran emerged from a Chilean police vehicle wearing the same outfit as the previous afternoon when he had been captured: khaki pants and a black hooded sweatshirt. As usual, hordes of news people were in the parking area to capture the twenty-second event.

Joran appeared calm and in control, flanked by high-ranking law enforcement officials. Interpol agents had outfitted him in a drab military-green bulletproof vest. Inside, he was examined by two doctors, who certified him to be in good health, with no indications of recent scratches, bruises, or traumas. He was lucid and his vital signs were normal.

At 3:00
P.M.
, he was officially transferred to Peruvian authorities.

“We demand that all the rights that are due Mr. Van der Sloot are honored,” the Chilean prosecutor told his Peruvian counterpart.

Joran was read his rights and given a copy of the resolution that had been signed by a judge in Lima on June 2, ordering his preliminary detention for twenty-four hours. He had one request—that someone call his mother in Aruba to let her know that he was being taken into custody in Peru.

Joran was ordered to open his bags so authorities could inventory his personal effects. His backpack contained a pair of blue dress pants, a Von Dutch T-shirt, a black T-shirt with the inscription “Kiss,” and several pairs of Bermuda shorts. He was also carrying a beige baseball cap; a red synthetic belt; a notebook with a green cover; a cherry-colored appointment book; one brown business card holder containing several cards; one black HP Pavilion laptop; one HP flash drive; one black external hard drive; two white lighters and a pen from the Atlantic City Casino; one photo album with some photos; one silver chain; one blue lighter with a golden eagle; one bank card from the Caribbean Mercantile Bank N.V. Aruba; a yellow laminated medical insurance card; seven prepaid phone cards; two memory sticks; one small appointment book with the inscription “2001”; one red folder containing various documents numbered through page sixty-one; two white shoelaces; one black string; one skin renewal lotion by Gillette, and one deodorant; and one platinum Egoiste cologne.

Police found two wallets among his belongings, one black and one light brown with the logo “Granny.” Both were empty. Joran was also carrying a wad of bills and coins from various countries and in various denominations. There was money from Trinidad and Tobago, Chile, Indonesia, Hong Kong, Malaysia, France, Lebanon, Macau, Venezuela, and the United States. But they turned out to be worth less than twenty dollars.

Peruvian authorities debated how to transport Joran to Lima. Normally, they would have dispatched a national police aircraft. But the planes were predisposed, being used for events sponsored by the Organization of American States Summit (OASS) in Lima.

Peru was the host country for the international conference. Diplomats and dignitaries from thirty countries, including Secretary of State Hillary Clinton from the U.S., were in attendance.

Van der Sloot’s sensational capture had overshadowed any news coming out of the summit.

A commercial flight was considered and rejected, in deference to paying passengers. Ultimately, the decision was made to transfer Joran by land. Interpol was in charge of the operation, supported by Peruvian highway patrol officers.

At 4:30
P.M.
, a convoy of sixteen police vehicles departed Tacna and headed north on the Pan-American Highway. Joran, handcuffed, sat in the backseat of an unmarked SUV between two Interpol agents. Ironically, he was retracing the route of his escape when he had traveled with the naïve cabbies; for this trip he had no need to negotiate a fee.

More than twenty media vehicles shadowed the convoy, recording every second of Joran’s eight-hundred-mile voyage back to Lima. The sixteen-hour trip was grueling for the former fugitive. Every time the caravan crossed into a new province, a circus-like frenzy erupted as Joran was physically pulled from one vehicle to be placed in another. Each jurisdiction wanted to be part of the event with each agency receiving its time in the spotlight. The captive was transferred from vehicle to vehicle as the cameras flashed. The depraved celebrity remained unfazed, often seen laughing with his police escorts during the ride.

The caravan arrived in Lima the following morning, June 5. More than one hundred reporters and photographers swarmed the silver unmarked SUV carrying Stephany Flores’s alleged killer, pressing their lenses against tinted windows hoping to catch an image of the monster inside. SWAT teams served as a barricade between the media horde and the vehicle before it disappeared into a parking area of the fourteen-story headquarters.

Joran was pale, his usually alert brown eyes half-closed as he emerged with his hands still shackled. He appeared nauseated, but two Interpol agents grabbed him by the elbows, led him to the underground entrance, and shoved him into an elevator. At least ten officers crowded in with him before they rode to the upper floor auditorium. Joran was pushed to the center of the room packed with reporters, all authorized to be there by police. The public display of his end game was deliberate. Joran was a trophy.

Burly officers, immaculately dressed in suits and ties, positioned their prisoner with slight adjustments so photographers would be able to gain different angles. Joran scowled and blinked furiously, blinded by the camera flashes.

“Joran, you’re on American television, what do you have to say?” one reporter managed to yell over the mayhem.

Joran glared but remained silent.

After two minutes, Joran’s exploitative exhibition was halted and he was removed from the auditorium. Interpol, the lead law enforcement agency since Joran’s transfer at the border, now delivered him into the custody of Captain Juan Callan and his homicide team.

Five Interpol officers marched him down a brightly lit hallway to the division’s third-floor office, painted a drab mustard. Captain Callan’s metal desk, one of six in the room, was in front of an expansive window, overlooking a construction site. The Virgin Mary hung in a small frame over his chair.

Captain Callan rose to introduce himself. He and his four-member team were dressed in the department’s official black vests, white collared shirts, and dark slacks. Callan’s tinted glasses with silver frames distinguished him from the group.

The captain had researched the murder suspect since his escape from the Hotel Tac. He knew about his involvement in the Natalee Holloway case; in fact, Aruban investigators had contacted his office after Stephany Flores’s murder. He was aware of the FBI’s extortion proceeding against him in Alabama.

At 2:00
P.M.
, official business began. Callan and a representative from the prosecutor’s office faced off against Joran and a small team provided for him. He had a Dutch translator, Maurice Steins, a native from Holland living in Peru who had been dispatched by the Dutch embassy. A defense lawyer, Alberto Paima Luyo, had also been assigned to him.

Joran was advised of his rights. He agreed that he understood the reason for his detention and the charges against him, the murder of Stephany Flores.

His brief interview offered very little information. He relied on the story he had told the Chilean police that either thugs with fake badges, or real police who practiced off-duty thuggery, were waiting for Stephany at the Hotel Tac, demanding his documents and 1,000 nuevos soles.

He did not explain how this was inconsistent with the video images from outside Room 309, where he and Stephany entered the room together but ultimately he alone exited at least twice.

Callan asked what he did for a living.

“At present, I do not have a job,” Joran explained. “I am a poker player and I have been traveling around the world since I turned eighteen.”