the middle-class kid on financial aid, surrounded by well-heeled classmates. “I took Japanese and sang, loudly, in the halls while walking from one class to another. Since I didn’t really fit in, I acted like myself, which pretty much made sure I never did.”
Matched people conform with our expectations. Their intentions are consistent with their behavior. The mismatched are confusing and unpredictable: “I’d do things that would embarrass most teenagers and adults—walking down the street like an Egyptian or an elephant—but that kids found fall-over hilarious.”
Kercher’s murder changed the way Kercher’s circle of friends behaved. They wept quietly, hushed their voices, murmured their sympathies. Knox didn’t.
Just listen to a handful of quotations that I’ve taken—at random—from the British journalist John Follain’s Death in Perugia. Believe me, there are more like this. Here is Follain describing what happened when Kercher’s friends met up with Knox and Sollecito at the police station the day after the murder.
“Oh Amanda. I’m so sorry!” Sophie exclaimed, as she instinctively put her arms around her and gave her a bear hug.
Amanda didn’t hug Sophie back. Instead, she stiffened, holding her arms down by her sides. Amanda said nothing.
Surprised, Sophie let go of her after a couple of seconds and stepped back. There was no trace of emotion on Amanda’s face. Raffaele walked up to Amanda and took hold of her hand; the couple just stood there, ignoring Sophie and gazing at each other.
Then:
Amanda sat with her feet resting on Raffaele’s lap…the two caressed and kissed each other; sometimes they’d even laugh.
How could Amanda act like that? Sophie asked herself. Doesn’t she care?
Then:
Most of Meredith’s friends were in tears or looked devastated, but Amanda and Raffaele made smacking noises with their lips when they kissed or sent kisses to each other.
And then:
“Let’s hope she didn’t suffer,” Natalie said.
“What do you think? They cut her throat, Natalie. She fucking bled to death!” Amanda retorted.
Amanda’s words chilled Natalie; she was surprised both by Amanda talking of several killers, and by the coldness of her tone. Natalie thought it was as if Meredith’s death didn’t concern her.
In an interview with Knox, Diane Sawyer of ABC News brought up that last exchange in the police station, where Knox snapped at Kercher’s friend and said, “She fucking bled to death.”
Knox: Yeah. I was angry. I was pacing, thinking about what Meredith must have been through.
Sawyer: Sorry about that now?
Knox: I wish I could’ve been more mature about it, yeah.
In a situation that typically calls for a sympathetic response, Knox was loud and angry. The interview continues:
Sawyer: You can see that this does not look like grief. Does not read as grief.
The interview was conducted long after the miscarriage of justice in the Kercher case had become obvious. Knox had just been freed after spending four years in an Italian prison for the crime of not behaving the way we think people are supposed to behave after their roommate is murdered. Yet what does Diane Sawyer say to her? She scolds her for not behaving the way we think people are supposed to behave after their roommate is murdered.
In the introduction to the interview, the news anchor says that Knox’s case remains controversial because, in part, “her pleas for innocence seemed to many people more cold and calculating than remorseful”—which is an even more bizarre thing to say, isn’t it? Why would we expect Knox to be remorseful? We expect remorse from the guilty. Knox didn’t do anything. But she’s still being criticized for being “cold and calculating.” At every turn, Knox cannot escape censure for her weirdness.
Knox: I think everyone’s reaction to something horrible is different.
She’s right! Why can’t someone be angry in response to a murder, rather than sad? If you were Amanda Knox’s friend, none of this would surprise you. You would have seen Knox walking down the street like an elephant. But with strangers, we’re intolerant of emotional responses that fall outside expectations.
While waiting to be interviewed by police, four days after Kercher’s body was discovered, Knox decided to stretch. She’d been sitting, slumped, for hours. She touched her toes, held her arms over her head. The policeman on duty said to her, “You seem really flexible.”
I replied, “I used to do a lot of yoga.” He said, “Can you show me? What else can you do?” I took a few steps toward the elevator and did a split. It felt good to know I still could. While I was on the floor, legs splayed, the elevator doors opened.