Instead, the new place was a $1,200-a-month, two-bedroom apartment about 12 miles from Hernandez’s North Attleborough home. Kevin Anderson, the Patriots staffer who helped Hernandez find the place, later told Belichick that Hernandez was shown several properties and “rented the worst apartment with the least security,’’ according to the police report.
The apartment would become known as Hernandez’s flophouse — a place he kept secret from his fiancee Shayanna Jenkins, but not the criminals in his circle of friends from his hometown of Bristol, Conn. Belichick was asked about the place in a 2013 news conference but has never publicly disclosed his role in helping Hernandez secure it.
The coach’s low-key handling of Hernandez’s concerns — there’s no evidence he went to police or even to the Patriots’ security chief about a star player’s report that his family might be in danger — seemed not to match what a Patriots executive later said he expected the coach would have done in such a situation. After Hernandez was charged with murder, Patriots president Jonathan Kraft rejected a magazine report that Belichick had advised Hernandez “to lay low, rent a safe house for a while.’’
“If a player had told Bill that his life was in danger, Bill would say, ‘We’re calling Mark Briggs, we’re calling the authorities,’ ” Kraft said on WBZ-FM before a preseason game on Aug. 29, 2013. “His response wouldn’t be, ‘We’re going to get a safe house and you’re going to lie low.’ I know Bill. That’s not what he would say.’’
The Spotlight Team notified the Patriots of its findings and invited comments from Kraft, Belichick, Tom Brady, and others associated with the team. Their only response related to the police interview with Belichick.
“Coach Belichick wanted to make it very clear that he stands by what he told police investigators, 100%,’’ Stacey James, the team’s vice president of media relations, said by e-mail.
The many questions that went unanswered included: Why didn’t Belichick report Hernandez’s safety concerns to law enforcement when Hernandez shared them in February 2013?
Belichick told police that Hernandez eventually told him that “he no longer had safety concerns.” But that conversation came in May, more than two months after Belichick learned that Hernandez feared for his fiancee and child’s lives.
The episode raises additional questions: Had the Patriots promptly alerted law enforcement, might investigators have uncovered not only Bradley’s death threats against Hernandez but the reason for them — that Hernandez had allegedly tried to kill him? Might that disclosure have helped police solve the double murder in Boston before anyone else was killed?
After the meeting in Indianapolis, Hernandez returned to California. He had hoped to work out with Brady during the offseason, but the shoulder he had injured required surgery. So he went to Brady’s Los Angeles surgeon for the operation in late March, renting a townhouse in nearby Hermosa Beach where he could recuperate.
Jenkins and their new baby went west, too, and early on the night before the procedure Hernandez received a text from Brady: “Good luck! I hope everything goes well … love you my brother and hope to see you soon.’’
But the night went badly, underscoring Hernandez’s worsening mental state. Near dusk, Hernandez was arguing with Jenkins when he put his fist through a window at the townhouse. Jenkins frantically called 911.
Hermosa Beach police Officer Todd Lewitt, the first to respond, said in an interview that Hernandez was intoxicated and bleeding heavily but declined medical assistance.
Six days after the shoulder procedure, Lewitt was called again to the same address for a domestic disturbance. Again, he said, Hernandez was drunk. Officers determined, as they did in the first call, that Jenkins and the baby were not in danger and took no further action.
In hindsight, Lewitt said, he wished that police had searched the townhouse for contraband. Hernandez’s friends later testified they had seen drugs and a gun in the residence. If Hernandez had been charged with illegal gun possession, it might have prompted the Patriots or the NFL to take action.
Hernandez’s brother, Jonathan, also saw a gun there. In his forthcoming book, “The Truth about Aaron,’’ he describes discovering his brother sitting alone on the townhouse roof holding a handgun.
Jonathan Hernandez said in an interview that Aaron was rubbing the barrel of the gun on his chin, his face looking empty and defeated. Aaron barely acknowledged his brother, but eventually reassured him that he was fine.
Aaron Hernandez wasn’t about to open up to others about his mounting troubles.
On April 4, more than a week after Hernandez’s operation, Belichick texted him: “Just checking in. Sounds like the surgery went well. Hope you are doing ok!! Let me know how things are going. Best, BB.’’
Hernandez replied, referring to his trainer: “Surgery went well and I’m doing fine and have been with Alex [Guerrero] and will continue to be with Alex until it’s time to be back for OTAs! [Organized team activities.] Hope everything has been well on ur end. Can’t wait.’’
In fact, Hernandez was not doing fine. He was gearing up for war with Bradley.
In early April, Hernandez sent $15,000 to a Belle Glade buddy, Oscar Hernandez (no relation), for a used Toyota with two .22-caliber handguns and two rifles inside, according to court records.
“Everything goin smooth?’’ Aaron texted him.
“Hell yeah I almost got everything,’’ Oscar replied.
But guns were not enough for Hernandez. He soon spent $110,000 on a 2013 Chevrolet Suburban that had been outfitted as an armored car, a war wagon.
Amid the Bradley drama, Hernandez was facing more issues at home. By mid-May, Jenkins was caring for their infant daughter, managing their house, and running out of patience.
She texted Hernandez, “I’m so annoyed with you — like all this [expletive] I have to do and you have no idea about how I’m feeling today … These are the times where you’re nothing but selfish.’’
Less than a week later, she was preparing to look at wedding dresses when she complained that she was learning through mutual friends about his past relationships.
“U have too much baggage … I’m serious — skeletons are starting to come out,’’ she texted.
Ninety minutes later, she texted again: “We need to confirm our wedding date — if it’s still happening.’’
Hernandez had proposed to her months earlier. Now, he was waffling about a date. So Jenkins chose one: April 11, 2015.
“Sounds good,’’ Hernandez replied.
When that date finally arrived, he would be standing trial for murder.
‘Not hidin’
As the Patriots looked ahead to their training camp in 2013, there was hope in the air — hope even in Hernandez’s crumbling life.
“This is the year for you,’’ Jenkins texted him during team workouts in May. “I can feel it.’’
“I just hope I stay healthy,’’ he replied.
“You have to think positive. An injury free year.’’
“Hope so,’’ Hernandez texted. “And a great year for us.’’
First, he had an honor to accept. The national Pop Warner football program chose to pay tribute to the Patriots star at its All-American Scholastic Banquet in Boston. The organization’s Inspiration to Youth Award would go to Aaron Hernandez.
It was an odd choice. Texts and e-mails between Hernandez and his agent’s staff indicate he was less than inspired by it all: by the need to attend the banquet and deliver a speech. He was especially angry about his mode of transportation to the event.
He had asked Murphy’s agency to have a car pick him up at his Franklin apartment. En route, Hernandez, that inspiration to youth, texted Murphy’s assistant, “Next time I will not ride in a car service wit no tints.’’
For one thing, Bradley and his crew might see him through untinted glass. And Bradley was out there: On May 29, Bradley texted Hernandez, “I hate that it has come to this but u can’t go thru life consequence free when u do certain [expletive].’’
A showdown appeared to be looming. On June 3, Bradley texted Hernandez that he would be near Gillette Stadium when the Patriots ended practice. He said he was armed with a semiautomatic handgun and was “vested up.’’
Hernandez texted Wallace, his bodyguard, to pick him up at the stadium, then replied to Bradley, “Jus kno I’m up here and I’m NOT HIDIN.’’
Bradley and Hernandez fired 125 texts back and forth between 8:24 a.m. and 3:55 p.m. that day. They exchanged insults, accusations of betrayal, threats.
The jousting ended without an encounter. But Bradley had warned Hernandez a week earlier that he would go public by suing him if he didn’t pay up.
On June 4, the morning after their long day of threats, Bradley indicated in a text to Hernandez that he had demanded $5 million from him, that Hernandez had countered at $1.5 million, and that Bradley said he would accept $2.5 million.
Hernandez did not respond. Instead, Wallace drove him to Boston to meet with his agent Murphy at the law firm Ropes & Gray. The text war was over, but Bradley remained unsatisfied.
He filed a federal suit against Hernandez in Florida on June 13, only to withdraw it four days later before the news media caught wind of it.
Murphy texted Hernandez: “They are voluntarily withdrawing lawsuit so we can engage in settlement talks without this getting to the media. Huge win for us.’’
By then, Hernandez had other problems. His commitment to football seemed to be waning. He reported late for practice the morning after his daylong texting beef with Bradley, and Belichick was losing patience.
The Patriots coach “was like Wtf is wrong with you Florida boys,’’ Hernandez texted Brandon Spikes, his former Florida and Patriots teammates. “He was hot.’’
“They told me they was trying to let me go but they r gonna give me one more year to straighten out lol,’’ Hernandez wrote. “But I ain’t trippin.’’
He was increasingly spending time with Wallace and another Bristol friend, Carlos Ortiz, whom he had known as a kid. Ortiz, like Wallace, was an ex-convict living at the home of Hernandez’s cousin, Tanya Singleton. And Ortiz, like Wallace, had failed multiple tests for cocaine, marijuana, and PCP, including tests reported as recently as June 12, 2013, five days before Hernandez committed an unspeakable act of violence that would prove his undoing.