by Fred Rosen
“I still wasn’t.”
“Did you do that to your brother and dad because you were scared of Bryan?”
“Nah, I just—”
“Just, like, lost it for a while yourself?” Mynsberge finished.
“Yeah. Lost it,” David agreed.
“So did you know before your mom came down that Bryan was going to do that, or did he just talk about it and you weren’t sure he was going to?”
“Not really.”
“Then you weren’t really sure until that evening?”
“Nah. I didn’t think he’d do it. I was hoping he wouldn’t.”
Mynsberge was trying to establish intent in David’s mind. If he could do that, David could be charged with first-degree murder.
“Was Ben aware of what was going on before?”
“Sure.”
“Was Ben afraid of Bryan?”
“I guess he was the same as me. He didn’t think he’d do it. And after he stabbed my mom, we’d be there anyway, we’d be the accessories anyway.”
“So before she came down the stairs, he said he was gonna do this?” Harms asked.
“Yes. He said, ‘When she gets down, I’m gonna kill her, and you guys go upstairs and get Dad and Erik.’”
“Where was the other brother at this time?” Harms asked.
“He was in his room upstairs, sleeping,” David answered with puzzlement.
He’d already answered this question.
“How come nothing happened to him?” Harms asked.
David looked at him like he was crazy. What the hell had he been talking about?
“Something did happen to him,” David answered sarcastically. “I only have two brothers.”
“OK, that’s the two, then,” Harms replied.
“Yeah.”
“Oh, I thought there was—”
“No, it’s Bryan,” said David.
“Bryan is his other brother, and then Erik,” Mynsberge explained patiently.
“I thought there was two younger guys there,” Harms answered, still not getting it.
“What time was it?” Mynsberge went on.
“I don’t know what time it was,” David said.
“Was it dark? Afternoon?”
“No. It was dark out.”
“You told us before we went on tape that you’d gone to Wendy’s earlier in the day and then a movie.”
“That’s right.”
“OK, when you came home from the movie, that’s when all the shit hit the fan?”
“Yes.”
“OK. Is that when they were upset with you because you came in late?”
“We weren’t late,” he answered defensively. “It was just, we stopped outside to smoke. We went outside for five minutes and they tried to lock us out.”
“After the killings, what time did you leave? ’Bout midnight?”
“It must have been around midnight,” David confirmed.
“You guys got cleaned up, got the money together, grabbed what you needed, and left?”
“Right.”
“Did you shower and everything?”
“We did at the motels.”
“Did you stay at more than one motel in Ohio?”
“We stayed at the one in Ohio and the one Holiday Inn here. That’s it.”
“Anything else you’d like to add to this statement, Dave?” Harms asked.
“No. That’s everything.”
“Probably feel a little bit of remorse, now that you’ve done that and you can’t take it back, right?” asked Harms.
“Yeah,” David answered.
“Well, we appreciate your talking to us, and did you have something else to say? You acted like you were going to say something.”
Mynsberge leaned forward. Maybe …
“No,” David answered.
“What time we got, Tom?”
“12:55,” Mynsberge answered, pushing back from the table and getting up.
“OK, we’re gonna end this tape at 12:55 on March the …”
“2nd of ’95,” Mynsberge concluded.
FIVE
It was not a good interrogation. David had said exactly what the two Michigan cops had wanted. In fact, at times, they had actually put words into his mouth.
A detective is supposed to go over the suspect’s story a number of times. The idea is for the suspect to keep filling in the blanks so when the time comes for trial, the confession is airtight. Instead, the confession David gave was full of holes. For instance, there was no indication David had killed his brother, yet he was taking responsibility. Mynsberge and Harms had no idea that David and Bryan had agreed beforehand to say they had murdered Dennis, Brenda, and Erik in order to help Benny.
However, at no time did the boys, in agreeing to what their story would be, actually talk about who did what. David might have been telling the truth.
Mynsberge and Harms felt that David had been completely honest and sincere. He seemed like a boy with a great deal of guilt who wanted it expunged so he could move on with his life, such as it was. He couldn’t bring his family back, but at least the confession gave him relief. That’s what they thought.
But cops are not psychologists. Their job is not to elicit a confession so the suspect gets relief. The idea is to get him, as surely as the suspect has killed.
By speaking readily, David might have helped Benny, but he was tightening the noose around his own neck. He had no idea as he was led back to his cell that he now stood a good chance of dying in Pennsylvania’s death chamber.
Back in Allentown, Donna and Nelson Birdwell II were shocked at their son’s involvement in the Freeman murders. Donna just couldn’t believe it.
Despite Benny’s past troubles with the law, despite her husband’s arrest record, she just did not believe that her son could be a murderer. Whatever he was, whatever he’d done in the past, he was still a good boy who would never, ever commit murder.
It was a particularly shattering crime for Donna, who had been very close to her sister Brenda. At times, Brenda had assumed the roles of sister, best friend, and even mother. To think that her nephews Bryan and David had killed her, and Dennis and Erik, as well, it was just too awful to fathom. Over time, though, she knew she would have to accept the reality. As for Benny, she would not even entertain the thought that he was in any way culpable.
“We need to support our son,” she told her husband. “We need to be with him.”
Two more members of the Freeman/Birdwell family got into their car in the dead of night and headed north in into the colder climes of northern Michigan.
Being in a cell was nothing new. Benny Birdwell had been in and out of trouble with the cops for years.
Benny calmly smoked his cigarettes and thought about the time he and his mother and his father had traveled from their Allentown home to Hackensack, New Jersey, in 1988, when he was eleven years old. His father had taken them there for some reason, and then he had left them in this fleabag motel. It was just such a shit-eating place.
“Deplorable conditions” were the words the cops used to describe it.
He recalled those cops at the door, telling him and his mother that his father was under arrest. His old man had been stopped for some traffic violations. The cops found drug paraphernalia in the car and charged him with illegally possessing the stuff. They threw him in jail and put his name into the computer, which showed his father had violated parole when he’d left Allentown and was also wanted on a charge of retail theft, felony grade. After he was sentenced to a $1,000 fine and community service on the New Jersey charges, his father was extradited back to Pennsylvania.
Benny had a juvenile record, but at least that wasn’t public information. Nothing major. It was sealed because he’d been a juvenile. But he was eighteen now, and if he were tried, it would be as an adult. Pennsylvania had the death penalty for a murder one conviction.
Now, Benny Birdwell, a.k.a. Nelson Birdwell III, sat in a dank cell in the middle of God-
knew-where, in some Michigan hick town waiting for the local cops to take him in for interrogation. He calmly smoked cigarettes, until finally, at a little after 2:30 A.M., they came to get him.
Benny was led down a corridor and into another interrogation room. It was a carbon copy of the one recently vacated by David. The tape recorder was set up, and once again, Mynsberge and Harms took their positions for the interrogation across from Benny, who had decided to stand.
Benny had no idea what either brother might have told the cops.
“This is a taped statement between Nelson …”
“Benjamin,” Harms added.
“Benjamin Bernell, better known as Ben, at the Midland County Jail.”
“What’s your last name?” Harms asked.
“Birdwell,” Ben answered.
“Birdwell, occurring on—”
“How do you spell your last name?” Harms asked.
Ben spelled it out.
“And this interview,” Mynsberge continued, “is taking place on March 2, 1995, at approximately 2:45 A.M.”
Justice really doesn’t sleep. Mynsberge droned on with the preliminaries until finally, he got to the point.
“OK, just talk right into the mike,” Mynesberge pointed.
“Oh, all right,” Ben said testily.
“As a matter of fact, you can just sit down if you want to.”
Benny sat.
“Give your name and—”
“My name is Nelson Birdwell, and what shall I say, how did it happen?”
“We want you to just tell us about what happened. It was on Sunday evening, after you returned from the movies with Bryan and David.”
“They said that they had to go back to the house, so we went back and—”
Harms interrupted, “You went to Bryan and David’s house after the movie?”
“Yes, we went back to their house,”
“Go on.”
“And we all went downstairs, and Dave got something to eat, and he came back downstairs with a plate of cookies, and his mom came down and, like, started bitching and shit like that, getting on our case, and he just stabbed her.”
“Where did he stab her?” Mynsberge asked.
“I didn’t see.”
“OK.”
“And he screams, ‘You guys puss out, I’ll kill you both.’”
“Who screams that?” Harms asked.
“Bryan, Bryan,” Ben repeated his cousin’s name, loudly.
“Bryan screams that at you, and—”
“Snuff.”
“Snuff?” Harms said, looking at his partner in bewilderment.
“Snuff,” Ben repeated. “It’s Dave’s name.”
“OK.”
“And Dave ran upstairs,” Ben continued, in a rush of words, “and I went in the other room, and Bryan ran up behind them. All I heard was noise upstairs. Bryan said something and I ran upstairs, and Bryan came out. He was, like, covered with blood, and Snuff barely had any blood on him. We just looked at that. Dave puked up their stairs, and I don’t know what happened with the weapons or anything. I didn’t hit no one or stab no one. Nothing like that. And after that, we just left.”
“Who changed clothes before you left?” Mynberge questioned.
“Bryan did. Dave kept his clothes on.”
“Where did Dave throw up at?” Harms asked.
“In the dining room area. And then you go out to the deck. He puked on the deck, and in the dining room area. Right by the sliding glass doors.”
“Backing up just a little bit now, when David and Bryan’s mother came downstairs, do you remember what it was she was saying?” Harms asked.
“No, not really. She was, like, bitching about me being there, and, like, she thought they were drinking again. She said they come home drunk, and I guess they just like, lost it that night.”
“Where was Bryan when she came downstairs?”
“Bryan was in his room downstairs.”
“So you and David were in David’s bedroom?”
“Yeah.”
“And Bryan was in his own bedroom?”
“Yeah.”
“Can you see in one bedroom from the other?”
“They’re right across the hall, but if you stand by the door you can see.”
“So Bryan’s mother came down and approached Bryan’s room?” Harms asked.
“Snuff’s room,” Ben corrected.
“And was yelling at Dave and Bryan at the same time?”
“I guess she was yelling at both the same time, but she was looking in Dave’s room.”
“And you were in Dave’s room at the time?”
“Yeah. And Dave, he was yelling back at her.”
“What was he yelling?”
“I have no clue.”
That was strange. If Benny was there, why didn’t he hear what was said? Harms pushed on.
“OK,” Harms continued, “and he comes out of the bedroom—”
“After Bryan stabbed her.”
“So did you actually see the mother when Dave’s stabbing her?”
“Bryan stabbed her,” Benny corrected.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Harms said, apologetic, “when Bryan’s stabbing her?”
“Bryan grabbed her from behind.”
“Like putting his hand over her mouth.”
“Yeah, he put her hand over her mouth, and Bryan was behind her.”
“Bryan’s got his hand over her mouth,” Harms repeated.
“Over her mouth, and—”
“Bryan’s behind her?” Harms asked, still not getting it.
“Behind her. She like dropped down to the ground and—”
“The mother dropped down to the ground,” Harms repeated.
“Yeah I didn’t see where he stabbed her or anything like that.”
“But you did see a knife or something?”
“Bryan had a knife in his hand when he came to her.”
“Which hand did he have the knife in?”
“That would he his right hand, because he’s right-handed.”
“So he had his left hand over her mouth?”
“Something like that, yeah, because he’s right-handed,” Ben repeated.
“Did you see him make a motion with the knife?”
Benny was literally putting the murder weapon in Bryan’s hand.
“I seen him come out of the room with the knife, but after that—”
“Out of his bedroom?” Harms repeated.
“Yeah, after that I didn’t see none of it.”
“At the time he grabbed her, did you see the knife?”
“No,” Benny said firmly.
“But there wasn’t anybody else around, there was just Bryan and his mother?”
“Yeah, and me and Dave in the room.”
“And then you see the mother kind of fall you say?”
“She like dropped to the ground and started screaming.”
“What did she scream?”
“Huh?”
“Did you hear what she screamed?” Harms clarified.
“No, she just screamed, ’cause he had his hand over her mouth.”
“Did you see any blood at any time? On her?”
“I seen it on the ground after I came out of the room, and Bryan was upstairs screaming.”
“She was—”
“Laying.”
“What position was she in when you came out of Dave’s room?”
“Her head was in towards Bryan’s room. The room towards us going upstairs, like, right by the radiator, in that hallway.”
“Was she on her back, or—”
“On her side. She was on her side.”
“Where did you see the blood?”
“Well, it came out. I seen some on her nightgown.”
“Was there any blood on the floor?”
“Not that I could see. I didn’t really go over and check.”
“Did you actually see Bryan leave her to go upstairs?”
&nbs
p; “Well, after Bryan grabbed her, I guess he must have stabbed her, ’cause she dropped to the ground.”
“But you didn’t see the knife move?”
“I didn’t see the knife move or nothing. I went in the other room. They went upstairs.”
“When Dave left his mother, how did he walk?”
“Fast.”
“Did he say anything?”
“No. He had a really scared look on his face.”
“And he was yelling something as he went upstairs?”
“No. Bryan was yelling,” Benny corrected.
“OK, Bryan was yelling. Oh, Dave’s the one that looked scared.”
“Yeah, Dave looked scared.”
“And Dave walks toward where you are?”
“Yeah.”
“And he looks scared?”
“Yeah. And Bryan, Bryan says, like, ‘If you guys puss out, I’ll kill both of youse.’”
“And then what does Bryan do after that?”
“He goes up after her, after Snuff. Follows Snuff upstairs.”
“What’s the next thing you see or hear?”
“All I hear is footsteps, and talking upstairs, and then I heard this banging.”
“Could you hear what they were saying upstairs?”
“No.”
“What kind of banging?”
“Like a knocking sound.”
“How many knocks did you hear?”
“Like, three or four.”
“How far apart were they? Seconds or minutes?”
“Seconds.”
“Did you hear any screams?”
“No screams at all.”
“No screams,” Harms repeated. “And then what’s the next thing you see or hear?”
“I hear Bryan upstairs screaming.”
“And?”
“And I go upstairs and see what it is. Bryan’s, like, his hands were covered in blood.”
“What’s he screaming about?”
“I didn’t really understand what. When I got upstairs, he stopped screaming.”
“Did it sound like he was screaming at somebody?”
“Yeah. It was like that.”
“OK. You got upstairs, and Bryan stopped screaming.”
“Yeah.”
“You get to the top of the stairs. Can you see David and Bryan at the same time?”
“Yeah.”
“Are they standing?”
“Dave was, right, Dave was puking at that time.”
“He’s over on the deck area, throwing up?”
