Sometime during the night， while lying in bed watcla-<br >ing TV， district attorney Bill Fitzpatrick put aside his<br >doubts about the confrontation looming between the<br >New York State Police and Waneta Hoyt. Fitzpatrick<br >liked to say that being brought up by Irish people， he<br >never hoped for something to happen， because then he<br >knew it wouldn t. But this night he fell asleep believ-<br > ing that when the investigators approached Waneta<br > I-Ioyt in the morning， she would agree to talk. She<br > would tell them how her five children had died more<br > than twenty years ago. She would confess. And the<br > hunch he had pursued for the past eight years would<br > pay off.<br > In the morning， the rituals of family life kept<br > ~ ~ S<br > Fitzpatrick doubts in check.<br > nesda was a workout day， so he did twenty<br > Wed ~. ，，__.~-~r~.~，.u He showered， put on the<br > minutes on ms 1，~olu~. -~<br > gray suit that represented one-fifth of his business<br > wardrobe， and joined the household bustle.<br > His wife， Diane， left for her law office in Syracuse<br > when the baby-sitter arrived at eight-thirty to watch the<br > couple s two youngest children. Shortly before nine<br > o clock， Fitzpatrick walked his four-year-old son，<br > Danny， to nursery school.<br > The daily walk was part of the special bond<br > Fitzpatrick shared with Danny， the sensitive， round-<br > faced boy he and Diane had wanted so badly. As they<br >