Portrait of a Monster: Joran Van Der Sloot, a Murder in Peru, and the Natalee Holloway Mystery by Lisa Pulitzer, Cole Thompson Page A
Authors: Lisa Pulitzer, Cole Thompson
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been offered an opportunity to become a judge. Although Paulus was excited, accepting the assignment would require three years of training. He would also be off-island for long periods, working on court-related matters on the nearby island of Curaçao, also a constituent country of the Netherlands. Additionally, he would be required to do a one-year stint in the Netherlands as part of the training. Joran loved his father and understood that the judgeship was important to him. However, he still resented his lengthy absences.
Now a teenager, Joran was looking to be more independent. He wanted to be cool like the older island boys in his clique. His mother wished he would make classier friends with his contemporaries at the International School, but choices were few. There were only four or five other boys in Joran’s graduating class. Besides, he preferred the companionship of the Aruban boys.
By now, he was fluent in Papiamento and he would often slip into the Creole tongue when he and his friends wanted to communicate covertly. To them, it was like a secret language. It was especially useful when they were picking up women at the bars, nightclubs, and casinos so popular with American tourists.
Since moving out of the main house and into the apartment, Joran had found it easier to get out at night.
The decision to let Joran use the apartment might have been shortsighted, but his parents had had sincere intentions. Joran’s increasingly erratic and disturbing behavior was threatening the serenity of the household and Paulus and Anita wanted to shield the younger boys. Moving Joran to the apartment seemed not only logical, but clever. Enhancing his freedom was an unwitting outcome and Joran was soon sneaking off the property almost every night of the week.
Typically, he’d put in an appearance in the main house, do some homework, chat with his folks, return to the apartment, and after he was sure everyone was asleep, take his exit. If his parents were aware of his nightly truancies, they certainly didn’t know where he was going. More often than not, these sojourns were to the poker tables of the Holiday Inn’s Excelsior Casino.
SIX
MONDAY, MAY 31, 2005
ARUBA
Natalee Holloway’s mother had come to Aruba carrying two photographs of her daughter to give to police. Now, standing in the lobby of the Holiday Inn, a salty breeze blowing in from the surf, Beth Twitty realized that she would need a photo of Joran, as well. If he really was the last person to be seen with Natalee, then she needed to track him down. While the desk clerk knew instantly who he was, she had no idea where he lived or how to find him.
Beth remembered that Jug’s nephew Thomas had said he’d hung out with Joran at the hotel’s casino the night before. There must be cameras inside the Excelsior. Surely the management should be able to find a frame of Joran in a surveillance tape.
“I’d like to look at video from the casino,” Beth told the hotel manager, explaining that she believed Joran had been at a gaming table with Natalee the previous evening and she needed a still shot of the young man to distribute. With members of the Holiday Inn staff aware that her daughter was missing, she expected there to be no problem reviewing the footage. Instead, she was informed that the casino operated independently from the hotel. It was now too late in the evening to reach anyone, the manager stated, but perhaps tomorrow something could be done.
The fact that her daughter had missed her flight home didn’t seem to alarm anyone on the island. This was Aruba, a carefree island, where people disappeared on benders and romantic liaisons all the time. Eventually, they always seemed to turn up somewhere. But this sort of irresponsible behavior was totally out of character for Natalee.
Beth’s daughter was punctual and reliable. For her to miss a flight and completely disconnect from friends and family made no sense at all. Natalee was a
Now a teenager, Joran was looking to be more independent. He wanted to be cool like the older island boys in his clique. His mother wished he would make classier friends with his contemporaries at the International School, but choices were few. There were only four or five other boys in Joran’s graduating class. Besides, he preferred the companionship of the Aruban boys.
By now, he was fluent in Papiamento and he would often slip into the Creole tongue when he and his friends wanted to communicate covertly. To them, it was like a secret language. It was especially useful when they were picking up women at the bars, nightclubs, and casinos so popular with American tourists.
Since moving out of the main house and into the apartment, Joran had found it easier to get out at night.
The decision to let Joran use the apartment might have been shortsighted, but his parents had had sincere intentions. Joran’s increasingly erratic and disturbing behavior was threatening the serenity of the household and Paulus and Anita wanted to shield the younger boys. Moving Joran to the apartment seemed not only logical, but clever. Enhancing his freedom was an unwitting outcome and Joran was soon sneaking off the property almost every night of the week.
Typically, he’d put in an appearance in the main house, do some homework, chat with his folks, return to the apartment, and after he was sure everyone was asleep, take his exit. If his parents were aware of his nightly truancies, they certainly didn’t know where he was going. More often than not, these sojourns were to the poker tables of the Holiday Inn’s Excelsior Casino.
SIX
MONDAY, MAY 31, 2005
ARUBA
Natalee Holloway’s mother had come to Aruba carrying two photographs of her daughter to give to police. Now, standing in the lobby of the Holiday Inn, a salty breeze blowing in from the surf, Beth Twitty realized that she would need a photo of Joran, as well. If he really was the last person to be seen with Natalee, then she needed to track him down. While the desk clerk knew instantly who he was, she had no idea where he lived or how to find him.
Beth remembered that Jug’s nephew Thomas had said he’d hung out with Joran at the hotel’s casino the night before. There must be cameras inside the Excelsior. Surely the management should be able to find a frame of Joran in a surveillance tape.
“I’d like to look at video from the casino,” Beth told the hotel manager, explaining that she believed Joran had been at a gaming table with Natalee the previous evening and she needed a still shot of the young man to distribute. With members of the Holiday Inn staff aware that her daughter was missing, she expected there to be no problem reviewing the footage. Instead, she was informed that the casino operated independently from the hotel. It was now too late in the evening to reach anyone, the manager stated, but perhaps tomorrow something could be done.
The fact that her daughter had missed her flight home didn’t seem to alarm anyone on the island. This was Aruba, a carefree island, where people disappeared on benders and romantic liaisons all the time. Eventually, they always seemed to turn up somewhere. But this sort of irresponsible behavior was totally out of character for Natalee.
Beth’s daughter was punctual and reliable. For her to miss a flight and completely disconnect from friends and family made no sense at all. Natalee was a
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