Facts Behind the Fiction
They say truth is stranger than fiction. In these cases, truth is scarier that fiction.
Just so there's no doubt, any individuals named here should be presumed innocent until proven guilty in a court of law. And, as we'll see, even then guilt may not be certain.
In a verdict that has captured headlines in both Europe and the United States, and polarized people in a way not seen since the OJ Simpson trial, Amanda Knox, an American student charged with the 2007 sexual assault and murder of her roommate, Meredith Kercher, has been found guilty. On December 5, the Corte d'Assise of Perugia, Italy sentenced Knox to 26 years in prison. Her Italian boyfriend, Raffaele Sollecito, was sentenced to 25 years.
The details of the case are both sordid and sad. How anyone could slash the throat of an innocent person and leave them to die a slow and painful death is beyond reason. But also disconcerting is the reaction of the public to the verdict.
When the guilty verdict was reported on CNN and other American news sites, it immediately attracted thousands of readers and generated a storm of comments. Many of those comments expressed dismay and even anger at the judgement, unshakeable belief in Knox' innocence, and disdain for the Italian legal system. Typical of the comments: "America has, like it or not, a better justice system than Italy. This sham of a trial proved that to me." And, "Knox would never have been convicted in an American court based on the evidence presented."
Perhaps those individuals are unaware of what happened to Steven Barnes.
Accused of raping and murdering a 16-year-old girl, Barnes was convicted on vague statements from eyewitnesses and weak, unvalidated forensic evidence, and despite the presentation of substantial evidence that clearly did not connect Barnes to the victim. After serving more than nineteen years in prison, Barnes was finally exonerated in 2009 when the Innocence Project helped him obtain new DNA testing.
This took place, not in Italy, but in New York.
Of course, Barnes' story is not typical of American justice, but it's not unique either. The 245 victims of wrongful conviction in the U.S., exonerated through DNA testing, would likely take issue with CNN readers who believe Amanda Knox would have received a more equitable trial at home. Not a few of them found themselves behind bars for crimes they didn't commit principally because of corrupt police or incompetent attorneys.
Equally disturbing is the fact that the vast majority of the most adamant advocates on these forums did not actually attend the trial held in Perugia, Italy. Most of them probably don't speak Italian and would not have understood the testimony given even if they had been present.
So on what are the protesters basing their convictions? Not on the evidence, to which they've had no direct exposure, but on the mere description of the evidence -- sifted, edited, filtered -- by their local news outlet.
This is not to suggest that CNN, or any other news agency, is intentionally biased. No such suggestion is necessary, since no reputable journalist would suggest that an individual's fate should be decided by the media, or should be decided by the public based on evidence reported on by the media. That's why we have a legal system with lawyers, judges, and juries. If we're dissatisfied with the performance of this system, we should lobby our legislators to change it, not try to circumvent it in the court of public opinion.
Of course, none of this is likely to change anyone's mind. No evidence is enough to sway the minds of those quick to judge without evidence.
How reliable are scent dogs in identifying suspects in a police lineup?
That's a question that's hard to answer since -- in the US at least -- there are no national standards and no system in place to keep track of a dog's or a handler's accuracy rate.
There's also the question of how accuracy is determined.
In a typical dog-scent lineup, police rub a piece of gauze on a suspect's skin or clothing. The gauze is then placed in a tin can and placed on the floor in a line with other cans containing gauze from other suspects or controls. The dog's handler exposes the dog to a scent from the crime scene or from the victim, and the dog and handler then walk along the line of cans. When the dog detects the matching scent, it signals the handler by either stopping beside the can or barking at it.
It sounds like a simple, fool-proof system. Unfortunately, since no one speaks "dog," it's impossible to know what's really going through the canine mind. How certain is the dog that it's found a matching scent? Could something else be triggering the dog's reaction? Could the handler -- consciously or otherwise -- direct the dog to a specific can?
And what if the suspect chosen by the dog is convicted, but then that conviction is later overturned? Is the dog's record or the handler's record updated to reflect that wrongful conviction? Is there even a record kept?
(See my post from August 5th about Bill Dillon, wrongfully convicted and imprisoned for 26 years after being tracked down by a scent dog.)
Michael Buchanek, knows all too well the danger of relying on dog-scent lineups.
Buchanek was a commander of operations with the Sheriff's Office in Victoria County, Texas for more than 25 years when, in March 2006, he was accused of murdering his friend and neighbor, Sally Blackwell. His former friends and coworkers on the force were fully convinced of his guilt and turned to scent dogs to pinpoint him in a scent lineup.
Buchanek was not convicted. Five months after he was sniffed out by the dogs, another suspect was identified with DNA evidence and confessed to the crime. But the career officer says the incident has left him with a bad taste for law enforcement. "It's pretty much ruined my life altogether."
John Evander Couey is dead. For the family of the 9-year-old girl he raped and murdered four years ago, this is a small taste of justice.
In 2005, Couey, a registered sex offender, broke into the Lunsford home and dragged little Jessica from her bed. Evidence suggests Couey took the girl to the home of Couey's half-sister, within sight of the Lunsford home, where he kept her for at least two days, raping her, and finally stuffing her into a plastic trash bag and burying her alive in the backyard.
In 2007, Couey was convicted of first-degree murder, kidnapping, and sexual battery on a child under 12. He was sentenced to death, but Jessica's father, Mark Lunsford never expected live long enough to see Couey executed.
In the end, it wasn't the State that balanced the scales, but Couey's own poor health. Couey died of natural causes September 30 in a Florida hospital.
Kenneth Ireland was still a teenager when he was convicted for the rape and murder of a 30-year-old mother of four, Barbara Pelkey. He was sentenced to 50 years in prison. This month prosecutors dropped all charges against him after DNA evidence ruled him out as the perpetrator of the crime.
In a similar case, James Tillman spent 18 years in prison for a crime he didn't commit. Tillman was awarded $5 million in a settlement with the state.
There's no word yet on what Ireland's next steps will be or whether he'll seek similar compensation.
When Bill Dillon was convicted of murder in 1981, DNA testing wasn't available. Instead, investigators and prosecutors relied on the testimony of John Preston and his supposedly infallible scent-tracking German-Shepherd, Harrass 2.
According to Preston, Harrass 2 repeatedly connected Dillon's scent to the killer's bloody t-shirt, was able to track Dillon from a paper he had touched, and even located him in a room where he was being held in the courthouse during his trial.
In fact, Harrass 2 wasn't much of a tracker at all.
In 1984, a Florida judge became suspicious of Preston and his dog and set up a test; Harrass 2 failed miserably. He couldn't track a scent more than 100 feet. It soon became obvious that the dog only appeared to track a scent when his handler, Preston, was with him. And apparently Preston could only lead the dog when he had been given his own lead by the prosecution.
That revelation, however, did Dillon no good. He spent another 20 years in prison before he even found out that Preston and Harrass 2 had been discredited. It wasn't until 2007 that DNA testing proved that his DNA didn't match that on the killer's shirt.
Preston died last year and Florida's Attorney General insists it's not aware of any conspiracy involving the tracker and his dog. Preston was never charged with perjury or convicted of any crime.
How many other people were convicted based on Preston's and Harrass 2's evidence remains to be seen.
Scott Kimball has a long history with disappearances.
In 2002, Kimball was in jail for writing bad checks. While there he offered authorities information about his cellmate, Steven Ennis, whom police suspected of being involved in a drug ring. In return for Kimball's services as an informant, the FBI released him and began paying him for information. The next year, 2003, Kimball was supposed to provide the FBI with information about Ennis' former girlfriend and exotic dancer, Jennifer Marcum, when Marcum disappeared. She's never been seen since.
Kimball's 19 year old step-daughter, Kaysi McLeod, also disappeared in 2003, after getting a ride to work with Kimball. A hunter found her body in 2007.
Also in 2003, Leann Emry disappeared shortly after leaving on a camping trip. Earlier this year FBI agents found Emry's body after Kimball was taken out of prison to help them search.
In 2004, Scott Kimball's uncle, Terry Kimball, disappeared. At the time, Scott Kimball reported that his uncle had won a lottery and traveled to Mexico with a stripper. But earlier this year he told police where they could find Terry Kimball's body.
Scott Kimball is already serving a 48 year sentence for theft and repeat criminal convictions. When that's done, he'll serve a 70 month sentence on firearms charges. But he likely will never serve time for the murders and disappearances of the people mentioned. He got a deal in exchange for revealing the locations of the bodies, allowing the victims families some closure. Without his cooperation, authorities probably wouldn't have enough evidence to convict him.
Back in 1819, the technology to find and analyze DNA evidence didn't exist. But for the Boorn brothers, it wouldn't have made a difference; there was no DNA evidence to find.
Two Vermont brothers, Stephen and Jesse Boorn, were convicted for the murder of their brother-in-law, Richard Colvin. But Colvin's body was never found.
There was however a penknife and a button found, both identified as Colvin's. A barn burned down, thought by some to be an attempt to destroy proof of the crime. Bones were found under a tree, but those were revealed to be not human, but animal remains. A convicted felon serving time for forgery, testified that Jesse Boorn implicated himself -- and was set free in return for his statement. The Boorn's uncle even reported a dream he had had in which Colvin told about his murder.
Presented with this overwhelming evidence, the Boorn brothers confessed and were sentenced to die.
Facing the hangman's noose, Stephen Boorn had a change of heart. He placed ads in local newspapers, explaining what had happened and describing his missing brother-in-law. Imagine his relief when someone responded! Colvin, it turned out, was alive and well, residing in New Jersey.
The Boorn brothers were released, becoming the first documented case of wrongful conviction in American history. Their story also served as the basis for Wilkie Collins' 1874 story, The Dead Alive.
Police in Milwaukee have linked a man's DNA to seven unsolved murders committed between 1986 and 2007. Six of the victims were prostitutes, the seventh a runaway involved in the drug trade. A state crime lab may yet link the same offender to at least 23 other unsolved prostitute murders with similar characteristics.
Unfortunately, while police have the DNA of the suspect, they don't know to whom the DNA belongs. There are no matches in any police databases, which means the offender has so far managed to stay out of police hands for any related felonies.
Murder charges against Paul House may have been dropped, but questions about his involvement in the rape and murder of Carolyn Muncey remain.
Muncey went missing from her rural Tennessee home on July 13, 1985. Her body was found a day later in a wooded area. She had been beaten and raped. A friend of her husband, House, claimed he had been alone at home at the time Muncey was killed. But police determined that House had left his home for at least an hour that night, and that he returned with unexplained cuts and bruises.
House, already on parole for other sex offenses, was convicted in 1986 and sentenced to death. He spent 22 years on death row.
This week, all charges against Paul House were dropped.
It seems that the semen found on Muncey's body matched her husband, not House. Blood under Muncey's fingernails also does not match House. Nor does DNA found on cigarette butts at the crime scene.
Yet, questions remain.
How did Muncey's blood get onto House's jeans? The court has determined that it could have spilled there during Muncey's autopsy, or through mishandling by police at the crime scene.
But that raises even more questions. Why would police have taken clothing confiscated from a suspect back to the crime scene? Why would clothing from a suspect be allowed anywhere near an autopsy table?
Although District Attorney Paul Phillips wrote the petition calling for charges against House to be dropped, he has not conceded that House is completely innocent. He stated that "the new evidence raises a reasonable doubt that [House] acted alone and the possibility that others were involved in the crime." But he says the "substantial sentence" House has already served is another reason the charges have now been dropped.
Police in Los Angeles have caught a break on a decades old cold case.
From the 1950s to the 1970s, the Westside Rapist claimed dozens of victims, mostly older white females. At the time, police were unable to narrow down their list of suspects and lacked the technology to make a conclusive identification. But in 2002, while reviewing 6000 cold cases and using more advanced science, police were able to match DNA from several of the cases.
Then, in March of this year, a match was finally made with a suspect, 72-year-old John Floyd Thomas Jr., who had recently provided a DNA sample for California's sex offender database.
Thomas' history matches the modus operandi and circumstances of the earlier murders. Should the identification prove conclusive, police may have finally captured one of the worst serial killers in U.S. history.
Some of the most popular shows on television are crime dramas. In almost all cases, the stories focus on teams of intrepid investigators using wit, guile, and technology to capture bad guys.
Now there's a new show on the air. But it's not fiction, and the bad guys -- if there are any -- have already been caught.
Dallas DNA focuses on the work of investigators to clear -- or confirm -- the convictions of men who claim to be innocent. The series was inspired by the work of the Conviction Integrity Unit, formed after Dallas County District Attorney Craig Watkins took office in January 2007.
If the series is successful, perhaps more crime dramas will focus on the innocent, rather than the guilty.
Pennsylvania is one of 46 states with laws providing post-conviction DNA access. That means that individuals convicted of a crime can request -- and must be granted -- access to DNA testing that could prove their innocence or guilt.
Unfortunately, what the law allows and what actually happens are two different things.
Anthony Wright has been in prison for nearly 20 years for a murder he says he didn't commit. He's asked for DNA testing, but prosecutors have so far refused to grant his request.
First the prosecutors claimed that since Wright confessed to the crime, he isn't entitle to testing. (According to the Innocence Project, "One-quarter of the 237 people exonerated by DNA testing gave a false confession or admission to crimes they didn't commit.")
Then the prosecutors said that testing isn't justified unless there's reasonable doubt about the individual's guilt. Of course, if there was otherwise "reasonable doubt" the individual would not have been convicted beyond a reasonable doubt in the first place.
Attorneys from the Innocence Project have argued the case before the Pennsylvania Supreme Court, but it could be months before the court reaches a decision. In the meantime, Wright has little choice but to wait.
Back in 1983, former Saskatchewan cabinet minister Colin Thatcher was convicted in the murder of his ex-wife, JoAnn Wilson. Thatcher maintained his innocence, but still served 22 years in prison.
He was paroled in 2006 and moved to his family's ranch near Moose Jaw. There he began writing a book, Final Appeal: Anatomy of a Frame, in which he details his trial, appeals, years in prison, and -- most notably -- an alternative theory about Wilson's murder based on evidence not heard in court.
While some jurisdictions have laws prohibiting convicted felons from profiting from the proceeds of a crime, Saskatchewan does not. Of course, Thatcher could write and publish his book without making any money from it, but that apparently won't be the case here; he's already been paid an advance by his publisher, ECW Press, and will be paid royalties should the book sell, as it probably will.
Profits aside, it will be interesting to see what new evidence Thatcher presents, and whether his claim to innocence may be valid.
One would think that if the technology exists to help prove a person's innocence or guilt, it would be used to the fullest extent possible. Then why is it that Alaska has the ability to test DNA samples in the rape conviction of William Osborne, but refuses to do so, despite agreeing that the test could definitively prove Osborne's innocence?
Peter Neufeld, Co-Director of the Innocence Project, argued before the U.S. Supreme Court that prisoners have a constitutional right to DNA testing that can prove their innocence. Most of the States agree and have laws that provide for such post-conviction testing. Alaska, along with five other states, does not.
In the presentation before the Supreme Court, Justice Breyer asks Kenneth Rosenstein, Assistant Attorney General in Anchorage, Alaska, "In other words, all he has to do is file a new piece of paper tomorrow, and he gets the DNA?"
Rosenstein replies, "Right." But before Osborne can do that, he has to insist that he's innocent. According to Rosenstein, "If he doesn't allege his actual innocence ... then this is really an empty exercise, a fishing expedition. He wants to just see what ... the evidence says. And that -- that is not the way litigation works."
That's not the way litigation works. So, they don't really care whether a man is innocent or guilty, so long as they follow the rules of litigation.
But under Alaska's laws, even if Osborne does allege is innocence, it's not enough. He has to be able to prove he's innocent before he can get the DNA test that will prove his innocence. As Neufeld stated, "They specifically said in the State courts that it is not enough to simply assert one's innocence; that you actually have to have proofs, facts that demonstrate your innocence before you get to that discovery. It is a Catch-22 situation."
Remind me not to move to Alaska. It's a beautiful state, but I don't trust its laws or its lawyers.
Timothy Cole was convicted for the 1985 rape of a 20-year-old student Michele Mallin and sentenced to 25 years in prison. The victim had picked Cole from a selection of photos presented by police, and then again from a police lineup.
This week a Texas district court judge reversed that conviction, based on DNA evidence and on a confession from another inmate.
Unfortunately, Cole was already dead. He died in prison in 1999.
The real rapist, Jerry Johnson, has been in prison since 1985, serving one life sentence for raping a 15-year-old girl, and a 99-year sentence for another rape. He won't be charged with raping Mallin; the statute of limitations has already expired.
A construction worker and former Marine from Reno, Nevada, James Michael Biela, had an alibi for the time 19-year-old Brianna Denison was raped and strangled: he was with his girlfriend.
Unfortunately for Biela, his girlfriend denies that he was with her the night Denison disappeared from her friend's sofa. And Biela's DNA has been matched to samples obtained from a pair of panties found in a field near Denison's body, and to a sample taken from the door knob of the home where Denison was staying.
Police first became interested in Biela when an anonymous tip told them that Biela's girlfriend had found two pairs of thong panties -- not her's -- in his truck. After considering the DNA evidence, reports from a number of attacks, and a detailed description given to police by another girl who was also assaulted, investigators believe Biela may be a serial rapist with a panty fetish, leaving the panties or thongs of one victim at the scene of the next victim's attack.
Biela denies involvement with any of the attacks and has entered a not guilty plea in Washoe County District Court. His trial is tentatively set for February, 2010.