Making the criminal justice system work properly entails more than pitching the bad apples.  We also need to find the good apples and put them in charge.

The news media tend to focus on one type of bad apple, the bully.  Video of a bully in action makes dramatic television.

Other types of bad apples, such as cops who take bribes, sometimes make headlines.  But good apples don't get the attention.

They do their jobs conscientiously, without fanfare.  They stick to their principles even when inconvenient and stick their necks out, when necessary, to prevent injustice.  Without the good apples, the system rots.

Consider the case of Paul Shane Garrett.  Bad apples sent this innocent man to prison.  Almost 2 decades later, good apples cleared his name.

In June 2000, someone strangled Velma Tharpe, a sex worker, and left her body in an alley in Nashville, Tennessee.  Police took bodily fluid samples for DNA testing.

Nashville police detective Roy Dunaway focused on Garrett, a truck driver who admitted that in the past he had hired sex workers, but repeatedly denied killing Tharpe.  Garrett voluntarily submitted a DNA sample.

Garrett's DNA did not match that found at the crime scene.  But despite the negative result, Detective Dunaway persisted.

Dunaway lied under oath, falsely claiming that Garrett had made incriminating statements.  In truth, even under coercive interrogation, Garrett denied killing Tharpe.  In one recorded interview, Garrett denied it 30 times.

But the grand jury believed the detective and indicted Garrett for murder.  Garrett stayed in jail 2 years.

To Garrett, it must have seemed like a nightmare, not America.  Despite all his denials, despite the negative DNA tests, despite the absence of other evidence, he was behind bars awaiting trial for murder.  All because of the perjury of a rotten apple cop.

Finally, in 2003, fearing that he would be convicted and sentenced to life in prison, Garrett entered into a plea deal.  Pleading guilty to a lesser charge, Garrett was sentenced to 15 years in prison, and could not be released on parole until he served at least 4-1/2 years behind bars.

In 2004, the Tennessee Bureau of Investigation learned that the DNA found on the victim matched that of a person listed in a federal database.  That person was not Garrett.

A TBI agent sent letters both to Dunaway and to the District Attorney's office, requesting that they obtain a DNA sample from this new suspect.  What happened then?  Nothing.

What Dunaway did with the letter he received we don't know.  That letter was not in the police case file.

A later investigator did find the TBI agent's letter to the District Attorney.  It was in the DA's case file, and on it was a sticky note stating "someone should look into this."

The sticky note sounds like a pass-the-buck bureaucratic move, a way to "get this off my desk and let someone else worry about it."  But no one did.  

And, apparently, no one told Garrett that the crime scene DNA matched another person's.  Garrett stayed in prison, unaware of this development.

Now, let's do what Garrett could not:  Press "fast forward" and skip to 2011.  Detective Mike Roland, of the Nashville Police Department's cold case unit, becomes involved.  He is a good apple.

Roland reviews the case and reports to his supervisor, Sgt. Pat Postiglione.  The two detectives interview Garrett in prison.  With a look of relief, Garrett asks, "What took you guys so long?"  

The detectives become convinced of Garrett's innocence and Postiglione sends an email to the district attorney.  In the email, Postiglione states that there "is absolutely nothing to suggest that Garrett was involved in this murder."

A high-level meeting results.   The two cold case detectives report their findings to the Nashville police chief and the district attorney.  Some others from the police department and the DA's office also attend the meeting and one of them, an assistant district attorney, is assigned to investigate further.  She concludes, "I do not believe we can permit Garrett's conviction to stand."

However, her boss, the district attorney, won't try to have Garrett's conviction set aside.  The most he will do is write a letter to the parole board, expressing doubt about Garrett's guilt and suggesting Garrett be paroled.

Garrett was released from prison in 2011.  But he still had the manslaughter conviction on his record.

The next year, Garrett did seek, through his attorney, to clear his record.  However, the district attorney objected.  Garrett remained a convicted felon.

In 2014, the district attorney decided not to seek reelection.  An "outsider," Glenn Funk, ran and won, defeating the candidate the previous DA had endorsed.

Funk established a conviction review unit.  Across the country, prosecutors have begun setting up such units only in the last 2 decades, after DNA evidence revealed that a surprising number of innocent people had been convicted.

Roland contacted the DA and asked that the conviction review unit look at Garrett's case.  At this point, Garrett already was out of prison and I believe a lot of police officers would not have gone to the trouble, but Roland did.

The conviction review unit director, Sunny Eaton decided that  Detective Dunaway had mischaracterized or fabricated evidence. The DA supported an effort by the Tennessee Innocence Project to have Garrett's manslaughter conviction set aside.

Earlier this month, a court vacated Garrett's conviction.

In my view, DA Funk is one of the good apples.  So is CRU Director Eaton.  Detective Roland is more than a good apple.  He's golden.

He also arrested the man he believes is the real killer, as indicated by the DNA match.

But what about Detective Dunaway, whose lies resulted in an innocent man going to prison?  Dunaway received no punishment for the perjury.  However, his actions in another case resulted in a demotion, and he retired in 2007 "in bad standing."  That is, he isn't eligible for rehire.

After leaving the Nashville force, Dunaway found work as an officer with a public university in a neighboring state.  For a while he served as interim chief.

Something seems amiss about our system of justice when a person guilty of no crime goes to prison and the person who committed perjury goes to Kentucky.

Kentucky map from Wikimedia Commons.

Suppose you went to prison in 1979 for murders you didn't commit. Your picture above was taken way back then, before your conviction, but you look different now, using a wheelchair.

Four decades behind bars can take their toll on the spirit, too, but last year came a new reason to hope.  The Midwest Innocence Project and volunteers from a major law firm had assembled new evidence of your innocence and were taking it to the prosecuting attorney.

Two months ago, good news brought another reason to hope.  The prosecutor announced that she had become convinced of your innocence and was going to work to set you free.  Announcements like that are as rare as quintuplets.

As this blog noted at the time, Kansas City Prosecutor Jean Peters Baker had no ethical obligation to petition the court for your release but she did so anyway!  With her on your side - not to mention the "dream team" of volunteer lawyers - how hard could it be?

Well, it turns out, a lot harder than it sounds.  Missouri law does not spell out any way for you - at this point in your case - to bring it back into court for another look.  Your lawyers tried to solve that problem by filing a petition for a writ of habeas corpus with the Missouri Supreme Court.  The Court denied it.

How about a pardon by the governor?  So far, the governor has not granted a pardon and it looks unlikely.  Almost 3,000 clemency petitions await consideration by Gov. Mike Parson, and he told a reporter that yours was not a priority.

Despite the setbacks, your lawyers don't give up.  The prison holding you is in DeKalb County, so they file a petition in that county's circuit court. The court schedules a hearing to begin on August 12.

But the Missouri Attorney General opposes.  His office files a pleading arguing that you are guilty, suggesting that you tried to tamper with a witness.  The attorney general also seeks a postponement of the August 12 hearing.

The Missouri Attorney General's office has a history of being hardnosed in exoneration cases but in this instance the AG is acting particularly strangely.  The AG has served a subpoena on the Kansas City prosecutor, and it is shocking.

The subpoena demands that the Kansas City prosecutor turn over records of all communications between her office and other officials who want you freed, including the mayor of Kansas City.  The subpoena also requires the production of communications between the prosecutor's office and local news media.

How do those records relate in any way to the question before the court, the question of whether you committed the murders?  The fact that the attorney general would subpoena clearly irrelevant documents raises a serious question about his motivation.

But the court did postpone the hearing.  It's now set to begin on November 19.

However, you may not have to wait that long. The governor has signed a new criminal justice law and it takes effect later this month.  This law specifically authorizes a prosecutor to ask a court to overturn the conviction of someone who has been wrongfully convicted.

Prosecutor Baker no longer will be limited to filing a supporting brief but will be a full party.  She  is preparing to go into court on your behalf the day the law takes effect.  I'm betting she wins. Hang in there! 

by K. W. Locke

When Kyle Shoulta and his girlfriend, Remy Riley - both 18 - began driving from Tampa to Fort Lauderdale, they likely didn't imagine they would be forced to take off their clothes in the Everglades.  They headed south, then turned east at Naples, where Interstate 75 becomes a toll road and goes straight through wetlands and swamp.

Travel advisers caution to fill your gas tank, and use the restroom, before embarking on this 80-mile stretch, known as "Alligator Alley."   You will drive for miles without seeing a service station although, about halfway, on the Miccosukee Indian Reservation, there's a convenience store where you can buy snacks and gas.

After the couple left the Interstate to fuel up, a Miccosukee Tribe police officer pulled them over, reportedly for running a stop sign.  The cop found alcohol and marijuana and offered the teenagers a deal.  To avoid arrest, they could take off their clothes and run naked.

Deciding against jail, they followed Martinez to a remote area, got out of their car, and then their clothes.  That was in August 2016, but Martinez would see them again 3 years later, this time fully dressed, when they testified during his trial for extortion.

Shoulta told the jury that, given the choice of going to jail or taking off his clothes, he opted for running around naked.

It may have been a more difficult decision for his then-girlfriend.  Riley testified that she removed her pants and shirt in front of the officer and then "I kind of looked at him like 'is this enough?' He's like, 'That's it?'"
 

She turned her back and finished undressing.  "Then, I ran in the opposite direction holding myself ," she said, and continued to hold herself when she ran back.  "While I'm in the middle of holding myself, he's like, Move your hands away from your body so I can see."

The jury found Martinez guilty of extortion and unlawful compensation and the court sentenced him to 10 years in prison.  Martinez appealed unsuccessfully.  Last month, the time came for him to start doing time.

Reportedly, Martinez may have been less than a perfect officer even before he coerced the teenagers to undress.  However, the Miccosukee Tribe's police department itself has a strange and alarming history.

It's difficult to get current information on the size of the Tribe's police department because personnel change so often.   A Department of Justice report indicates that it had 30 sworn officers in 2003.  A more recent report, from www.police1.com, indicates there are 38 officers.  

Even 30 sworn officers would seem like a lot, considering that the Miccosukee Tribe itself has only about 550 or so members.  However, the Tribe owns a resort and casino near Miami, so it certainly can afford that large a police force.

A decade ago, 21 Miccosukee officers signed a petition calling for the investigation of a police sergeant.  The Tribe fired 7 of the officers and the interim police chief.  Two years later, the department discharged four officers and a fifth, reportedly fearing she would be terminated, committed suicide.

In 2018, some Miccosukee police officers, pursuant to a tribal court's order and accompanied by Miami-Dade officers, went to a hospital 30 miles away from the reservation and seized a newborn baby over the objections of the mother, who was a member of the Tribe.   Although the Tribe returned the baby to the mother days later, the incident sparked criticism, including from U, S, Senator Marco Rubio.

Earlier this year, a Miccosukee officer was driving on I-75 when one of his tires blew out.  The patrol car rolled several times, fatally ejecting the officer.  He wasn't wearing a seat belt.

But the Tribe's problems go beyond its police department.  At one point, the Tribe hired lawyers, including a former United States attorney, to provide tax advice concerning revenues from the casino.  Some of the Tribe's leaders claimed that the lawyers advised them that they did not have to pay certain income taxes.  (The lawyers said their advice was misunderstood.)

Then, the IRS showed up asking, in effect, "where's our money?"

Tribal leaders fired the lawyers, then hired another attorney to sue the previous lawyers.  The new attorney did bring suit, claiming that the previous lawyers had conspired with the Tribe's previous chairman in a kickback scheme.  

However, a federal judge found that the Tribe had "no evidence or only patently frivolous evidence" to support the suit and threw it out.

The Tribe also had this same lawyer sue another of its former attorneys.  This suit also lacked merit.

Later, the Florida Supreme Court disbarred the attorney, and not just because of the frivolous lawsuits he filed.  The errant lawyer also had made wild accusations.   For instance, he accused another attorney of sprinkling pistachios and peanuts on the food of a law clerk who was allergic to nuts.

The lawyer only got disbarred.  He didn't wind up in prison for 10 years like former officer Martinez.  But I wonder:  Didn't his frivolous lawsuits cause just about as much damage?

I'll have to think about that, but one thing is clear.  Anyone allergic to nuts should avoid this tribe whenever possible.           

 

Banner based on photograph of alligator in Alligator Alley by David Balmer; aerial photo of7 I-75 "Alligator Alley" by Formulaone.  Both photos and map of Florida from Wikimedia Commons                                                    

Can you watch the police bodycam video – starting at 13:40 – without getting mad as hell?  I can't.

 

An incident in Seattle illustrates two important points:  First, police managers are not controlling their officers but letting them run amok, terrorizing innocent victims.  Second, all of the blame cannot be placed on racial prejudice.  The victim in this case was white.

Howard McCay was 72 when cops invaded his home in 2019.  About an hour earlier, someone had called the police department's non–emergency number to report that the doors to McCay's house were open.

Listen to the call here.  McCay's lawyer placed it at the beginning of a YouTube video which also includes the bodycam footage.

The caller had begun by saying "it's not an emergency" and the police must have believed him.  They did not show up at McCay's house for another 50 minutes.

Four cops, one of them with an "assault–style" rifle, entered the house. McCay, who had been sick and was worn out, was sleeping soundly in his upstairs bedroom, with the door closed.

Finally, McCay awoke, heard noises and called 911 to report an intruder.  The dispatcher told him they were police officers and that he should cooperate with them.  He did.

The cops yelled through the bedroom door to come out with his hands up.  He did.  They told him to turn around.  He did.  They told him to kneel with his hands over his head.  He did.

Before his retirement, McCay had suffered a shoulder injury while working as a longshoreman.  When the officers pulled his arm back  to handcuff him, the pain caused him to scream, but the cops wouldn't stop.

He was still in pain, when the officers told him to stand up.    McCay, on the top stair and handcuffed, strained to keep his balance and he tried to stand.  He said, "Hold me so I don't fall."

One of the cops answered, "Stand up on your own.  If you fall, it's on you."  McCay slid down a couple of steps and the cop told him to "use your legs."  Eventually, another officer helped McCay get to the front porch.

There, one cop took McCay's wallet, checked his ID, and discovered what McCay had told them.  He lived there.  They released him.

The officers' actions not only flout the Constitution, they defy common sense.  Why did the cops handcuff McCay?  He wasn't trying to get away and, besides that, they had no probable cause to suspect that he had committed any crime.

And why did they force McCay – an old man obviously in pain – downstairs?  Why didn't they just check his ID where they were?   

McCay filed suit against the Seattle police department.  Based on the bodycam video, it is clear he has an excellent case that they violated his Constitutional rights by using excessive force.

To determine whether the amount of force used was unreasonable, courts weigh several factors including "severity of the crime," whether the person posed a threat to the safety of the officers or others, and whether he was actively resisting arrest.  Here, there was no evidence that any crime had been committed.  McCay, who was 72 and not feeling well, posed no threat, and he was cooperating, not resisting.

Before he filed suit, McCay complained about the officers entering his apartment with guns drawn but the Office of Police Accountability announced that the cops had been following department policy!  If so, the city, not just the individual officers, will be legally liable.

I'm betting that city officials, after watching the damning video from the bodycams, will decide to settle out of court.  With taxpayers' money, of course.

The only way to prevent incidents like this – and worse – is to  impose serious discipline on the offending officers, at least a suspension without pay for the first incident and discharge for a second similar one.

Of course, that's easy to say but there may be significant obstacles, such as collective-bargaining agreements with unions representing officers and having significant political power.  Balancing the interests of the officers, the management and the public won't be easy, yet it needs to be done.

Consider George Floyd's killer, former Minneapolis officer Derek Chauvin.  He wound up in prison. Finally.

However. before the day George Floyd died, Chauvin had used excessive force on at least 6 other people, and at least 2 of them had filed complaints against him, but he wasn't even reprimanded.  Giving any person a gun and authority and then failing to supervise that individual puts all of us at risk.

Iowa's "Back The Blue" Law Protects Cops, Not Public

By K. W. Locke

Several states, most recently New Mexico, have abolished or curbed the doctrine of qualified immunity which prevents many victims of police misconduct from taking cops to court.  Iowa, however, has now gone in the opposite direction.  Its legislature recently passed a bill which writes this judge–created doctrine into state law.

Iowa Governor Kim Reynolds signed the bill into law on June 17.  Referring to police as "the heroes who patrol our streets," the governor said "tragically, this fundamental and wholesome part of America's culture is now under vicious attack."

Does that strike you as a bit over the top?  Sadly, the discussion has turned into a grade B western movie with good guys who can do no wrong against bad guys who are always wrong.  People feel compelled to take sides, each person deciding which group wears the white hats.

But that kind of either/or thinking – cops are either angels or devils – doesn't deliver any useful answers.  We need a system which recognizes that police officers are human beings with assorted flaws, just like the rest of us.   America's founders, mindful that imperfect human beings would be running the government, built checks and balances into the Constitution.  We need to apply the same principles to the criminal justice system.

Even the concept of qualified immunity isn't bad in theory.  Most of the harm comes from the way it has been applied.

The Supreme Court essentially has held that a police officer can be sued for violating someone's legal rights only if the right had already been clearly established.  That sounds reasonable enough, but in practice, courts have made it very difficult to show that a right was "clearly established."

For example, in one recent case, police in Fresno, California were investigating illegal gambling and executed a search warrant authorizing them to confiscate money.  The officers claimed that they had seized $50,000.  However, the property owners filed suit, alleging that the cops really had taken more than 6 times that much, and had pocketed, unreported, $151,380 in cash and $125,000 rare coins.

The officers invoked qualified immunity.  To overcome that defense, the plaintiffs had to show that they had a Constitutional right not to be stolen from, and that the right was so clearly established the police reasonably would know about it.

That sounds pretty self–evident.  But not to the judges.

The U. S. Court of Appeals for the 9th Circuit looked at the case precedents and decided that, when the seizure took place, it had not been clearly established that stealing the money violated  a Constitutional right.  "Although the City Officers ought to have recognized that the alleged theft was morally wrong, they did not have clear notice that it violated the Fourth Amendment – which, as noted, is a different question."

This type of judicial nitpickery makes me want to tear my hair out.  Such reasoning has let cops off the hook for many other kinds of misconduct.

The officers should have known not only that stealing was morally wrong, but also that it was illegal.  They're cops.  If someone else had taken the money, they would have gotten out the handcuffs.

But the federal court wasn't concerned about whether the police knew about the state law prohibiting theft.  The court was concerned with Constitutional law.  Was it a violation of the Constitution – of the Fourth Amendment's prohibition on unreasonable searches – for the officers to take the money?  

At the time of the seizure, no court had held that it violated the Constitution for cops to seize money and pocket it.  Hardly surprising.  How often would a case like that come to a court's attention?

However, it would be easy to draft a statute which preserved the concept of qualified immunity while eliminating its potential for abuse.  For example, the law could provide that there would be no immunity for conduct that violated a right clearly established by judicial precedent or by a statute.  It might also provide that there would be no immunity for conduct that violated a city ordinance or a police department regulation.

Unfortunately, the Iowa legislators made no attempt to correct the problem.  Their new "Back The Blue Law" specifically states that it applies in addition "to any other statutory or common law immunity."

                         

Who Pays For SWAT Team's Mistakes?

By K. W. Locke

    What do a SWAT team and an escaped lion have in common?  Both roar in and cause damage, but don't have to pay for what they break.

    You've already read here how a SWAT team in McKinney, Texas, caused $50,000 damage to a house and left the innocent owner with the bill.  We've also reported about the SWAT team in rural South Dakota that tore up a house trailer even though officers knew witnesses had reported that the fugitive was elsewhere.

    Here are more examples of what can happen when you give people guns and battering rams and no–knock warrants and also give them immunity from lawsuit.  Earlier this month, a federal appellate court issued another decision illustrating just how difficult it is to hold the police liable for damage they cause.

     The court considered a 2018 incident when a SWAT team in Henry County, Georgia, seeking a drug dealer, battered in the door of the wrong house, exploded a flash-bang grenade and arrested a 78–year–old who had just been sitting there watching television.  Later, the cops learned they'd made a mistake.
                                     
    The warrant had listed the correct address for the drug dealer and the cops had gone to that address first.  They found that building to be in bad shape and, apparently, unoccupied.  So, the SWAT team captain figured that the correct building must be this other one nearby.

    He might not have made that mistake if he had read the warrant carefully because it included a description of the drug dealer's house.  But the SWAT captain didn't bother.

    Narcotics detectives had wanted the drug dealer arrested but considered him too armed and dangerous for them to handle alone.  So, they asked the SWAT team to provide the muscle.  The SWAT team captain relied on the detectives to point out the right building to raid.

    When the court found that the captain had immunity, it stressed that the raid was dangerous because criminal friends of the drug dealer lived nearby.  The court also described how carefully the officers had planned the raid.  Therefore, the judges reasoned, this case was different from an earlier one where the court had denied immunity to a clearly negligent officer.

    Courts, wielding the doctrine of qualified immunity, make it very difficult, if not almost impossible, for someone to hold the police liable for their own negligence.

    The law holds a private party using something inherently dangerous - whether it be dynamite or a lion - to be strictly liable for any harm caused.  But a city or a county can equip a SWAT team with weapons and explosives and set it loose, and not have to pay a cent for any resulting damage!  That needs to change.

       In Flint, Michigan, a SWAT team with a no–knock warrant battered down the door of the wrong home and held a family at gunpoint.  A lawyer representing 28–year–old Michelle Colson and 56–year–old Renee Dunigan has now written Attorney General Merrick Garland asking for a federal investigation.

    The lawyer's letter said that the Michigan State Police SWAT team "rousted the family at gunpoint, literally from shower, sleep, and bed, and forced them to sit together for one hour – in Michelle's case unclothed, having just stepped out of the shower – while approximately 50 officers tore the house apart."       

    An informant had given the State Police misleading information.  The suspect lived in the house next to the one the SWAT team raided.   The letter requesting a federal investigation claimed that the police did not do anything to verify the information before they conducted the raid.

    This would be a good time for Attorney General Garland to act.  The federal government has just announced it will investigate domestic terrorism.  Few things can cause more terror than a SWAT team running amok.

* * *

   An earlier post on this blog reported that Loveland, Colorado police officers had injured a 73-year-old woman with  dementia who reportedly had walked out of Walmart without paying for an item.

   Two of the cops involved - shown above in an image taken the day of the incident by a police department surveillance camera - have resigned.  Both Austin Hopp (at left) and Daria Jalali (right) now face criminal charges.

    Larimer County District Attorney Gordon McLaughlin charged Hopp with second degree assault, that is, with assault causing serious bodily injury, which is a felony.

    The DA also has charged Hopp with "attempt to influence a public servant," which is also a felony.  The DA alleges that Hopp filed a misleading police report concerning the incident.

      The other former officer, Jalali, faces charges under a relatively new, and pioneering, Colorado law requiring a police officer to intervene, rather than just stand there and do nothing, when another officer is hurting someone in custody.  The DA charged Jalali with such a failure to intervene as well as with a failure to report the use of force.  Both are misdemeanors. 

   Additionally, both former officers face charges of official misconduct, arising out of the same incident.

 Banner based on image from bodycam worn by member of the Henry County (Georgia) Sheriff's Department Special Response Team; Georgia map from Wikipedia.   Photograph of Michigan State Police sign from MSP website. "Update" banner, showing Officers Hopp and Jalali "fist-bumping," based on image from surveillance camera in Loveland (Colorado) Police Department.  Bodycam image of arrest from Loveland Police Department.  Mugshots from Larimer County (Colorado) Sheriff's Office.                                                                                      

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              

 

 

Illinois Bill Curbs Coercive Interrogation of Kids

by K. W. Locke

    The Illinois legislature recently passed a bill to prohibit police interrogators from lying to kids under 18.   According to the Innocence Project, which supports the measure, no other state has enacted such legislation.

    Researchers have documented 250 instances when coercive interrogation tactics have led to false confessions.  Read about some cases here and here.

    To avoid confusion, I should point out that when I use the term "false confession," I'm not talking simply about a person pleading guilty to a crime he didn't commit.  That happens a lot, and there are many reasons why.

    If a poor person has been sitting in jail for months because unable to make bail, he might well choose to plead guilty just to get out.    With each day behind bars, the prosecutor's offer – plead guilty and we'll let you go for time already served – becomes increasingly tempting.

    An innocent person of moderate means – who earns a little too much to qualify for free legal representation – may decide it's cheaper to plead guilty and pay the fine than it would be to hire a lawyer.  That choice can seem particularly attractive because paying a lawyer is no guarantee of acquittal, and besides that, it prolongs the unpleasantness of being a defendant in court.

    People make those choices but that's not what I'm talking about when I say "false confession."  I'm talking about confessions resulting from intense psychological manipulation. 

   Decades ago, interrogators left marks.  They called it the "Third Degree."

    In 1973, I was a law clerk for a judge in Michigan and got to watch the proceedings in his court. One time, the cops brought in a kid not that much younger than I was.  You could tell he'd been beaten.  The judge, I'm proud to say, dismissed the charges.

    Today, police interrogators know how to rough the person up psychologically.  No visible marks!

Coercion Honed to a Science

    Often, they use the so–called "Reid Technique."  It entails relentless interrogation, carefully designed and structured.  

    The questioner insists the suspect is guilty no matter how many time he denies it.  The interrogator just won't take "I'm innocent" for an answer.

    The interrogator lies to the suspect, telling him that others already have confessed and are pointing the finger at him.    The cop makes a promise of leniency, or implies that if the person will just confess, this hell will stop and he can go home.

   After hours of grilling, the false confession seems to be the easy way out.  Of course, it's anything but.

    Sometimes, the person even believes what he's confessing.   (When that happens, researchers call it a "persuaded false confession.")

   In one case, interrogators even convinced a deputy sheriff  that his subconscious mind had repressed the memories of what he supposedly had done.  These were very serious offenses - molesting his daughters and killing babies during satanic rituals - but he confessed.

   Studies have shown that people with disabilities and those under 18 are particularly vulnerable to intense psychological tactics.  If the Illinois legislation becomes law, it will be a good start.

    Last month, this blog reported that the prosecuting attorney in Kansas City, Missouri, was trying to free a man, Kevin Strickland, who'd been in prison 42 years for murders he didn't commit.  Jointly with attorneys from the Midwest Innocence Project and volunteer lawyers from a large firm, she petitioned the Missouri Supreme Court on Strickland's behalf.

    However, on June 2, the court declined to consider the petition.   The prosecutor isn't giving up.  If the governor signs a bill recently passed by the Missouri legislature, she will be able to ask a trial–level court to find that Strickland is innocent.

    Read more about it here.

Banner:  Screenshot of FBI video of interrogation of Ariel Castro, who confessed to kidnappings, rapes and murders.  (Source:  FBI via Wikimedia Commons.)  Nothing suggests that Castro gave a false confession.  He later committed suicide in prison.