Cooper’s website for her 2020 reelection bid boasts a Circuit Court felony conviction rate of 97 percent. Her office prosecutes between 14,000 and 20,000 cases a year.12 The site also highlights numerous murder convictions of cold-case homicides, including the conviction of a serial killer, and a professional hit man.
But many contend Jessica Cooper has failed to advance the most notorious and certainly the most heinous cold case homicide in her county, if not the state: the Oakland County Child Killings.
Perhaps one of the most critical decisions of her career was to cross paths with Kym Worthy and, by extension, Barry King.
An imposing physical presence, Kym Worthy wears her hair long, past her shoulders. A single mother of three daughters—Anastasia, in her twenties, and adopted twins, Anniston and Alessandra, born in 2009—she speaks in a stern voice with rapid-fire cadence, and her passion for the rule of law is legendary.
In 2004, Worthy became the first woman (and the first African American) to serve as Wayne County prosecutor, a prominence she shares with Jessica Cooper—two women, in adjoining metropolitan counties, reaching the upper echelons of law enforcement.
Worthy sat for 10 years as a judge in Detroit Recorders’ Court (now the Wayne County Circuit Court). Before that, she served 10 years as an assistant prosecutor in Wayne County. Specializing in high profile criminal cases, she successfully prosecuted Toni Cato Riggs, who was convicted of the murder of her husband, a returning Gulf War veteran.
She also won convictions in the notorious killing of Malice Green, who was beaten to death by two Detroit police officers in November 1992. The incident occurred against the backdrop of the Los Angeles riots, which erupted six months earlier after three LAPD officers were acquitted in the videotaped beating of Rodney King. Green, a 35-year-old unarmed black man, was sitting outside a drug house when two white officers, Walter Budzyn and Larry Nevers, approached him. Green allegedly refused the officers’ commands to drop a vial of crack cocaine he held in his hand and was beaten to death with a police-issue flashlight. During the trial, medical experts fiercely debated whether cocaine in Green’s system played a role in his death. But the coroner who performed Green’s autopsy determined the blows to his head had killed him.13
Coleman A. Young, the city’s first black mayor, said on national television that Green “was literally murdered by police.”14 Public opinion in the suburbs was that the officers were overcharged. Budzyn and Nevers were found guilty of second-degree murder in 1993 and both spent time in prison. The charges were later overturned on appeal; they were re-tried separately and found guilty of involuntary manslaughter.
In November 2017, the 25th anniversary of Green’s death, Worthy called for a national database to track cases of police brutality. “I don’t think we’ve made much progress at all,” she said.15
As Wayne County Prosecutor, Worthy presides over one of the most consistently violent cities in America, fielding a caseload that repeatedly ranks among the top 10 in the country. Wayne County adjudicates over 52 percent of all felony cases in Michigan. Worthy is widely credited with a 95 percent conviction rate.
In 2008, Worthy successfully prosecuted then Detroit Mayor Kwame M. Kilpatrick and his former chief of staff, Christine Beatty. The charismatic Kilpatrick began his fall from grace with perjury charges concerning his affair with Beatty, which escalated to ever widening charges of public corruption. When Kilpatrick was put behind bars for failure to pay restitution, one columnist wrote: “Worthy restored the city’s tarnished reputation by showing that no one, not even the diamond-ear studded, hip-hop mayor was above the law.”16
Worthy was once a victim of violent crime herself. Taking a break from her studies at Notre Dame Law School in South Bend, Indiana, she was jogging when a man came up behind her, threw a cloth over her head, pulled her to the ground and raped her. She never reported the attack. “Things were different then,” she told a journalist in 2012. “And I was young.”17
In 2009, when one of her assistants discovered more than 11,000 untested rape kits languishing in Detroit Police storage facilities, Worthy was appalled. She went to work getting them processed and took the lead in establishing a road map for other U.S. cities to do the same. As of January 2019, nearly all of Detroit’s rape kits have been tested. Courts handed down 159 criminal convictions and investigators identified 833 serial rapists in cases that reach into 39 other states.18
For her part, Kym Worthy went beyond standard protocol to welcome Cooper when she took office in January, in phone calls and at public meetings. Worthy said she hoped they could work together and collaborate on many fronts, including the OCCK case.
During that early 2009 briefing on Gunnels’ DNA and the advancements in the Busch-Greene lead, everyone appeared to be on the same page. “Prosecutor Cooper felt the circumstantial case that we had developed was really good,” said Wayne County Assistant Prosecutor Rob Moran. “She understood the importance of physical evidence and how important DNA was going to be.”19
But Williams remembers Cooper taking umbrage at the mention of Larry Wasser. “I sensed that she was irritated that Larry Wasser was involved because he was her buddy. She didn’t like that we didn’t like Larry Wasser. She was real protective of him.
“In fact, the first time I met her I spent an hour and a half explaining how the whole lead developed from Lawson to Lamborgine to Busch and Greene,” Williams said. “And she didn’t even ask one question. Especially after I mentioned Wasser, she wouldn’t even look at me.”
However inconclusive, the DNA results connecting Gunnels to Kristine Mihelich were enough to issue a warrant from the Michigan Department of Corrections for “Full Extradition” of Gunnels from Montana. When Williams contacted officials in Butte, Gunnel’s parole officer had no idea where he was. Vince was doing what he had always done on the outside—whatever he damn well pleased.
Because the city of Livonia had already invested more than its fair share of funds in the investigation, Chief Stevenson requested authorization from the mayor to send Williams, along with Livonia PD Det. Shelley Holloway (it was thought Gunnels might be more receptive to a woman) to Montana to try and get Gunnels to cooperate. Rob Moran and Garry Gray joined them.
An entry in Det. Williams’ notes summarizes the visit:
3-26-09: … Task Force members went to Butte for the interviews of Vince Gunnels & his sister Karen Zaspel. …we interviewed [Gunnels] at the Butte/Silver-Bow Sheriff’s Department in Butte, Montana. Sgt. Gray started the interview talking with Gunnels, reading him his rights and explaining that the Task Force is now in possession of [his] DNA that was located on the shirt of Kristine Mihelich. Sgt. Gray tried to show Gunnels a picture of Mihelich while explaining the DNA. Gunnels would not look at the photo and continued to sit back in his chair with his eyes closed, listening. Gunnels did not deny anything, but simply said he wants an attorney and he’s not saying anything without one. Any questioning of Gunnels stopped. Sgt. Holloway explained to Gunnels that he could have an attorney, she would not ask him any questions, and asked, would he simply listen to what she had to say? Gunnels agreed. Sgt. Holloway explained that [Gunnels] was only 14/15 years old when he was associating with Busch & Greene in 1976–77 and that he was a victim of theirs … that his DNA coming back as a positive match on [Mihelich’s] shirt could be another example of [Busch and Greene] continuing to victimize [Gunnels] even though they are dead. Sgt. Holloway explained that the Detectives involved in this investigation want to charge [Gunnels] with Murder and that [Gunnels needed] to think about cooperating and telling his side of what he knows and/or his involvement in the Child Killings. Gunnels asked Sgt. Holloway to call his sister Karen, explain the situation to her because he doesn’t do anything without talking to her. Sgt. Holloway agreed to talk to his sister and the interview was terminated.20
After a visit with Karen Zaspel, Holloway felt she had convinced her the severity of evidence mi
ght mean murder charges against her brother. Zaspel promised she would call her brother and stress to him the importance of speaking with investigators.
It was clear Gunnels was stunned by the DNA news. But he was resolute; he would not talk. He slipped up, though, during a recorded phone call to Zaspel from the Butte County jail.
“I just don’t get it,” Zaspel said. “How could they come up with your DNA on this girl’s clothing if you weren’t there?”
“I don’t know either,” he said. “I know nothing about it. I wasn’t there when it happened.”21
For investigators, this comment was key. It was confirmation in their minds that Gunnels knew something happened with Kristine; he just wasn’t there when “it” happened.
Gunnels also let it slip that his brother Paul was possibly involved: “Would you do me a favor? When you get done talking to me, talk to Paul about it. Get into his head and tell him to try to think of one single time, you know I’d like, I tell you what, I don’t wanna put him in this, I don’t. But if it comes down to it he’s gonna have to show his face up in court one day to me. He’s gonna have to. But I can tell you what he would know. You know what I’m saying? He was with me, he was my shadow, you know that.”22
Within days, Gunnels was transported back to Michigan’s Jackson State Prison. For three months, he sat in a cell. By July, he finally agreed to take a second polygraph, this time without “messing around.” Gunnels was asked:
1. Did you participate in any way in the killing of Kristine Mihelich?
2. Do you know for sure who killed Kristine Mihelich?
3. Did you have any physical contact with Kristine Mihelich?
Michigan State Police Polygraph Examiner Lt. Robert Dykstra determined: Gunnels “completely failed all aspects of said examination.” When the polygrapher examiner told him he had failed, Gunnels said simply: “Okay.” During the post polygraph interview, Dykstra showed Gunnels a photo of Kristine Mihelich and asked again about his having had any physical contact with her. Gunnels said that he didn’t know her; he had had a rough life and “pushed a lot of things to the back of his brain,” he said, then added: “A lot of crack has gone through this brain since then…. I didn’t even know her name,” Gunnels said.23
The failed polygraph, coupled with his DNA match and his relationship with Busch and Greene, made Gunnels more a suspect than a victim. But because polygraphs are not admissible in court, and because the mitochondrial DNA evidence was relatively weak (one in one hundred people could also match) Gunnels could not be held indefinitely. And so, by the fall of 2009, James Vincent Gunnels was again freed on parole. Gunnels made his home in a halfway house in Kalamazoo and now was answering only to “James.” Evidently, “Vince” had been exiled to a former life.
Throughout 2009, Barry King had been calling the Task Force for updates on the lead the King family had handed to police two years prior. Barry made calls to the Michigan State Police at the end of February, in April and in June. In a letter to Jessica Cooper dated June 24, he wrote: “This letter is not written in my professional capacity, but as the father of Timothy King. I would like to meet with you and/or the prosecutor in charge of the case. … As your records will indicate, this investigation has now centered on one or more deceased individuals due to a lead fortuitously provided by my family.”24
He never received a response.
During the same period, Cathy King Broad called the Victims’ Rights office of the Oakland County Prosecutor several times and left messages. Her calls were never returned. Finally, after being persuaded by Williams, Garry Gray called Barry King in June and threw him a few crumbs. He told King they were still waiting on results from the search of the Morningview Terrace home and that plans were being made to interview someone connected to the case in Georgia and Alabama, but they were having some budgetary issues. Barry King offered to pay expenses for the trip, but the offer was refused. Gray promised a meeting date in late September.
Frustrated by the lack of any substantive communication, Cathy Broad appealed to Williams in a phone call on June 19. According to Williams’ notes:
Cathy King called today, stating that she had made a call to the Oakland County Prosecutor’s Office on behalf of her father, Barry King, who wanted to be updated on the status of our current lead. According to Cathy, her dad is getting up there in years, has health issues, and would like to know exactly what is happening on this lead. She said that her dad has seen the video of John Walsh addressing the media about how pleased he and his wife were with the fact that the detectives in Hollywood, Florida, kept them in the loop and didn’t keep them guessing. She said they will go to the media if we don’t meet with them soon.25
With the Kings’ ultimatum on his mind, in August 2009, Williams and Gray travelled to interview two persons of interest in the case—one in Atlanta, Georgia, the other in Birmingham, Alabama. Williams planned to bring up the Kings in conversation with Gray during the hour-and-a half-drive between the two cities.
The Alabama interview was with Douglas Eugene Bennett. It was thought Bennett might have associated with Busch and Greene back in the day because he had been arrested in Flint in 1977 on child molestation charges, along with Greene and Busch. But Bennett said he never knew Busch and Greene before the arrest. Once behind bars, he said he recognized Busch’s photo on the news after the arrests. He said he only ever talked to Greg Greene in the Genesee County jail. Bennett said the media connected all of them simply because they were arrested at the same time.
It was hoped the Atlanta interview would be more promising. The subject was a Birmingham, Michigan, native and neighbor of Chris Busch named John Hastings. Hastings was first named as a suspect by Helen Dagner, a cyber-sleuth living in Rogers City in northern Michigan. Dagner claimed on her website, cloakanddagner.com, that Hastings, whom she met through a friend, was the killer.26
The story Dagner told began in September 1991. Over the course of nine months, Dagner said she met regularly with Hastings at a Big Boy Restaurant in Alpena, a northern Michigan skiing hub. In these meeting, Hastings wove a convincing tale about being involved in the Oakland County Child Killings. Notably, Hastings and his four siblings grew up one street over from the Busch home. Also, there was some speculation that Hastings and Busch worked together as cooks at Biff’s, a popular diner, and another restaurant, the Maple House, both in Birmingham. On her website, Dagner maintained that Hastings knew details about the killings that only the killer could know. She said Hastings drew maps of the children’s drop-off sites on the back of Big Boy paper placemats. He claimed the shotgun used to shoot Jill Robinson belonged to his younger brother.
At Dagner’s urging, the Task Force investigated Hastings in the nineties. Hastings was administered a polygraph in which he was asked about his involvement with Timothy King’s death. He denied it and the polygraph indicated he was being truthful. Nonetheless, Dagner continued to push her case, and in the absence of any public information on the investigation from law enforcement, her website became the trusted go-to site. Dagner was also highly critical of the Michigan State Police, in large part because she felt her lead wasn’t being taken seriously. She blamed Garry Gray and maligned him as a clueless and haphazard detective. Apparently, Gray took it personally.
Before the Atlanta trip, Williams phoned Dagner to flesh out more background on Hastings. The phone call was a matter of due diligence, but he had decided not to tell Gray about the conversation.
“I interviewed her ahead of time because she had said she had specific physical evidence that could convict Hastings,” Williams said. “And before I have a guy polygraphed, I need to know whether I think the information is credible or not. But, since she was always bad-mouthing Garry on her website, he didn’t like me talking to her … and I didn’t tell Garry about it.”
Helen claimed that Hastings had evidence that could prove he was involved: a tape recording of one or more
of the children’s voices recorded during their captivity.
Williams was firm with Dagner: “Listen, Helen,” he said. “Tomorrow, I’m going to be sitting across the table with your guy, John Hastings. And I need to know, right now, whether this information is true or not.”
Helen came clean. “She goes, ‘O.K., I’m sorry. I made it up. I wanted to generate interest on my site.’ And I was like: ‘Well, thank you, at least for being honest with me.’”
On August 10, 2009, John Hastings arrived at a police station in Atlanta carrying a “coffee table” book under his arm titled The Encyclopedia of Serial Killers. He said he was “fascinated” with any and all cold case murders.27
Hastings didn’t deny that he had met and talked with Dagner about the OCCK case, but he admitted it was mostly lies. He said he had strung Dagner along for the free food and because it was “fun.” And then, Helen had “blown the story way out of proportion.” Nonetheless, Hastings was swabbed for DNA and the detectives arranged for him to take another polygraph—this time about the entire OCCK case—administered by Atlanta police. He later passed the test.
While unsuccessful, the trip had been necessary since both Hastings and Bennett had to be ruled out. But what transpired during the conversation between the two detectives on the drive between Georgia and Alabama would widen the divide between them even further.
Williams told Gray the King family had made several requests to be briefed on the investigation and warned Gray what could happen if the Kings felt they were being purposely kept in the dark.
“I told Garry that the Kings were talking about going to the media with the information they gave us and it was time to bring them in, let them know the status of the case,” Williams said. “We needed to work with them, rather than against them. Especially since the King family was responsible for bringing us the Busch lead to begin with. I kept on saying: ‘Garry, you don’t kill the messenger.’ I told him they were serious about going to the media.’ He said he wasn’t going to update them with anything. I said: ‘These people are smart, Garry.’ He said: ‘They can’t be smart; they’re attorneys.’”
The Snow Killings Page 22
