The Things You Didn't See(67)
Maya Hawke was fatally injured. A jury will struggle to accept that someone can load, aim and fire a gun while asleep. In cases where sleepwalkers have committed murder, the verdicts have been unpredictable, resulting in either full acquittal or prison sentences.
Current estimates place the rate of sleepwalking at around 4 per cent of the population – and the percentage is higher in children. It is documented that sleepwalkers can drive, cook, operate machinery, have intercourse; and yet the brain receptors for – say – recognising a loved one, are dormant.
It would seem that Hector Hawke’s first experience of sleep disturbance took place when he was a child. This is not unusual. In fact, sleepwalking in children is relatively common, though the onset of sleepwalking can happen at any age. Hector Hawke recounts several specific incidents worth relaying here:
He tells me that his parents were disturbed by his sleepwalking, and discouraged him from discussing it.
Once he left his teenage years, these incidents did become less pronounced, and Hector Hawke believed he had ‘grown through it’. However, he still had what he called ‘night terrors’, when he would sit bolt upright, believing himself to be in danger. This was such a common occurrence that, after her daughter left home, Maya Hawke sometimes slept in her daughter’s bedroom, although on the night of the attack this was not possible as Cassandra Hawke was staying at the farm overnight.
Hector Hawke knew Maya Hawke when they were young, living as they both did in a small rural village. They were married shortly after Maya Hawke inherited the farm, following her parents’ tragic death. Hector Hawke was in his early twenties at the time, Maya Hawke a few years older. Their only child, Cassandra, was born just seven months later. When asked about the nature of the marriage, Hector Hawke was reticent, and seems a man uncomfortable with, and unused to, discussing his emotions. This is not uncommon for a man of his age, and he was visibly agitated when I tried to probe further.
What we know about sleepwalking crimes, or more specifically, non-insane automatism, derives largely from a few sensational cases that have challenged and redefined the way we see the sleeping brain. In 1997, in America, Scott Falater, a quiet family man, dedicated to the Mormon faith, was seen by a neighbour stabbing his wife over 40 times and pushing her into the family swimming pool. Seemingly asleep, he changed out of his bloodstained clothes, and put them – along with the knife – in the boot of his car. When police arrived, he said he had no idea what was going on. This lack of memory is a key feature of automatism.
Although it looked as though Falater had attempted to conceal the murder, Falater’s children testified that he always kept his work clothes and tools in the boot of his car and the prosecution argued he was acting out of habit. The neighbour also gave weight to the case, saying he was glassy-eyed during the attack and unaware of his surroundings. His mother confirmed he had a history of childhood sleepwalking, and his sister testified that as a girl she had tried to disturb him while he sleepwalked, and he threw her across the room.
The jury still found him guilty of first-degree murder.
So, how can it conclusively be proved that the accused was sleepwalking? In short, it can’t. It can only be concluded on the basis of probabilities, weighing up past behaviours and evidence of disturbed sleep.
Another example: In 1992, in Canada, Kenneth Parks drove several miles to his in-laws’ home, strangled his mother-in-law and stabbed his father-in-law, then drove to a local police station, saying, ‘I think I’ve just killed someone.’ His own wife believed he was asleep and this must have helped the jury’s decision to find him not guilty. He was under a great deal of stress, and had lost his job due to his gambling addiction.
He was acquitted because of his highly irregular EEG results.
Here the notes finished.
It sounded as though things were clearer for Clive than they had been earlier that day. Holly leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes wearily. When she opened them, her father’s gaze fixed on her from the baseball photo on the fridge. If only she were still a child, and under his protection.
But she had been a child that night when everything changed, and she hadn’t confided in him then. It was foolish to think that now, as an adult woman and living thousands of miles away, she needed someone else to help her.
Her phone buzzed, and she picked it up. ‘Cass?’
‘I just got your text. How did it go?’
The words tumbled out. ‘Clive believes your dad – I’ve seen the start of his report. He’s quoting other cases, to back up the theory that Hector was asleep.’
There was a long pause. ‘What about you: do you believe him?’
Now Holly hesitated.
‘Holly? Please tell me.’
‘Cass, did you know that Daniel was at the farm that morning? He’s known right from that first morning that this wasn’t an attempted suicide.’ She strained to hear Cass’s reaction, but through the phone wires, her senses had nothing to go on.
‘Are you sure?’
‘That’s what your dad says. And yet Daniel wasn’t at the farmhouse when I arrived. He stayed out of the way while the police and paramedics did their work . . .’
‘It wasn’t Daniel, Holly. It was Ash.’
There had been a time Holly had believed this too, but now she wasn’t so sure. Ash and Janet both seemed devoted to the Hawkes. She asked softly, ‘How can you be so sure, Cass?’