It was about this time that Louisiana authorities caught up with Lee. St. Martin Parish detectives released the sketch of a man resembling Lee in connection with an attempted rape in Breaux Bridge, and on May 23 Chief Englade of the task force expressed the belief that the black male in the sketch might be the killer they were searching for.
Finally it was all coming together.
The would-be rapist had talked his way into a home by asking to borrow a phone and phone book. His attack was interrupted by the woman’s son and he fled the scene in a gold 1997 Mitsubishi that had a dent in the hood and a “Hampton Has It” license-plate cover. Lee had a 1997 Mitsubishi registered in his name; as a matter of fact it was sitting in his yard, complete with dented hood and license-plate cover.
On May 24, the sketch was plastered on the front page of the newspaper. The resemblance to Lee was unmistakable. Zachary police recognized the face and asked the crime lab to do a rush on the DNA submitted from Lee. On May 27, the sketch was replaced by a photograph of Derrick Todd Lee, because the DNA results were back—after three weeks—and he was identified as the South Louisiana Serial Killer. But by then, Lee had fled the state. I guess he figured that unlawful flight to evade prosecution was the least of his concerns.
A nationwide manhunt was launched. But Lee didn’t seem too upset by it all. At least that’s the impression he gave to fellow residents at the Lakewood Motor Lodge in Atlanta, Georgia. He’d checked into the cheap motel and rapidly made friends. He enjoyed partying and was evidently pretty good at grilling ribs and chicken for the guests. He was even known to “entertain” women is his room on several occasions during his ten or so days in the area. I wonder if they knew that they were being “entertained” by a man wanted for murder?
On the night of May 27, 2003, Derrick Todd Lee, the monster who had stalked our streets for so long, was arrested without incident outside a tire shop in Atlanta. The police asked for his ID and he turned it over to them. That was it. Lee’s days of raping and killing were over. But an aftermath was dawning; and it wasn’t going to be pretty.
CRITIQUING THE CRITIQUE
I thought about avoiding this topic altogether but I feel I must weigh in on the performance of the Multi-Agency Homicide Task Force in order to get some closure for myself and others involved in this whole tragedy. Let me first state that I embrace the concept that if we do not learn from our mistakes we are destined to repeat them.
For weeks, the press hammered on the task force for not having made the critical connections sooner. Many felt that if the task force had done a better job, the murderer would have been caught earlier and the killings would have stopped sooner. The day after Lee’s arrest, members of the task force who had been on the case for eighteen months defended their strategy in a combative, sometimes tearful news conference packed with reporters, law enforcement, and supporters. Baton Rouge police chief Pat Englade said that by the end of the investigation, the task force had followed up on 26,000 leads and swabbed more than 1,200 men. Englade was emotional when he said he’d have wanted the very same investigators if his own family were involved in a crime. “They have been totally, unduly criticized,” Mayor Bobby Simpson told listeners. “We owe them a debt of gratitude that can never be repaid.” With Governor Mike Foster at his side, he called them “one of the most competent task forces that has ever been put together.”
Maybe so, maybe so . . . but if we apply the same yardstick to criminal-justice professionals as we do to medical professionals, we’d have to come back to the astute words of my medschool mentor: “The operation was a beautiful success! Too bad the patient died.” It’s a fitting analogy. Like I said before, in our profession, 99 percent is a failing grade, and we know that going into it.
Could they have done a better job? Only they can answer that. I know some of those guys; they’re good guys, and I am sure they have done, and continue to do, a lot of soul searching about that very question. There were definitely some problem areas. In addition to not communicating well with or through the media, they didn’t communicate effectively with fellow agencies. I’m not even sure how well they communicated within their own agencies. They set up operations in a building so far removed from police headquarters that their own street officers began to refer to it as “the ivory tower,” or “the bunker.” The heavy reliance on DNA is perceived by many to have taken the place of basic police work. This opinion was magnified when Mixon, Odom, and the Zachary PD were credited with breaking the case. They were not on the task force though. An offer of help from the attorney general’s office had also been declined.
One rationale at the time for the public relations fiasco was that the task force chose to keep facts that only the killer would know away from the public. This approach allows investigators to positively confirm anything a suspect might incriminate himself with during questioning. I understand that. But at the same time there is the need to keep the public informed and to treat family members with the care and respect they deserve. Their public relations effort was disastrous at times, and that cost them heavily.
Of course, with the benefit of hindsight, any critic can look brilliant. The press created a platform for critics, who charged that the task force missed or even ignored clues, and as the inevitable deconstruction began in the media, it was clear that the task force was in for a bumpy ride.
Did the task force fail to communicate effectively with nearby forces? Robert Keppel, a lead investigator in the Ted Bundy murders, pointed out to the local press that the task force should have looked to surrounding parishes to see if similar crimes had been committed and relevant suspects studied. I think we already knew that. It’s called Investigation Techniques 101. I also think we have established the fact that agencies tend not to communicate much with each other. But in this case, there are some exceptions. The Zachary police said that they gave information about leading suspects, including Lee, to task force officials in summer 2002 at a round table session with other law enforcement in attendance. They also presented the facts that he was a convicted peeping tom and that he was a suspect in the only two unsolved murders in Zachary. If Lee had been swabbed then and the DNA analyzed, Dené and Carrie might be alive today. That’s a harsh reality.
St. Martin Parish said they informed the task force of the Breaux Bridge attack shortly after the task force formed in August 2002. Englade said he didn’t hear about it until April 2, 2003. If that’s true, the glaring question for the chief is: “Why not?”
Did the task force rely too heavily on DNA analysis to catch the killer? Chief Englade told reporters that his agency had not linked the serial killer to the Zachary crimes because the Zachary cases hadn’t been analyzed for DNA. “We drew a line in the sand because of DNA evidence that we would only link the ones that we have DNA evidence for,” Englade told the Associated Press. “But it’s not that we were overlooking anything else.” Huh? I’m confused. What exactly does that mean?
Some critics lay blame on the state itself. Perhaps Lee could have been caught sooner if the Louisiana legislature hadn’t delayed, by nearly two full years, funding for a state-mandated program to perform DNA sampling of arrested suspects. Un-funded mandates are little more than feel-good legislations, as far as I’m concerned. Still, I’m not sure how much difference it would have made. The vast majority of DNA samples collected by the task force were from white males.
Did the task force listen to the public? In 1999, Derrick Todd Lee pushed his way into the apartment of Collette Dwyer. His stated purpose for the intrusion was to “take care of her.” This was the culmination of his having stalked her for some time. He ultimately was arrested for stalking, pleaded guilty, and was placed on probation. The stalking resumed in 2001. Collette called the tip line to report Lee but says she was told that they were looking for a white man. Her call has been verified and confirmed. Collette placed her first tip about Lee after the death of Charlotte Murray Pace. She called authorities in Baton Rouge again after the murder of Pam Ki
namore. She also told authorities that Lee drove a white pickup. Evidently an investigator from the task force went out to look at the truck but did not think it appropriate to swab Lee, due to his race.
After the murder of Charlotte Murray Pace, a police detective said later during the trial, four people told police they saw a suspect similar in description to Lee near Pace’s house on the day she died. “They gave general descriptions,” the detective said, but accounts differed. When police refused to prepare a composite sketch, the neighbors hired a criminologist to prepare their own. The task force said it would not release the sketch because “We have no proof he [i.e., the man described by Pace’s neighbors] had any connection to . . . Pace’s homicide. . . . We don’t know why he was in the area.” That really sounds pretty flimsy to me; especially when the police would go out and swab someone in the blink of eye over an anonymous tip or declare someone else a person of interest simply because they were seen in a truck near a crime site. I mean, come on—shouldn’t the guy at least have rated a person-of-interest status?
Did the task force provide an accurate profile or description of the killer? The FBI profile was on target in some areas but vague in others. But aren’t they all? It’s just a tool. A profile is also a work-in-progress that tends to change as new data come in. The profile was right about Lee being physically strong and a low wage earner. It also correctly predicted his age to be between twenty-five and thirty-five. One glaring misstep was that the profile labeled him as being “probably awkward around women.” That was an unfortunate statement in that it was so very wrong. Again, there are no absolutes, and the profile bore that disclaimer. But people have selective reading, just as they have selective hearing, and disclaimers are easily perceived as perfunctory in cases like this.
If a woman read and believed that the killer was an awkward white male, then a black male who was charming around women might readily be excluded as a threat. The woman excluding him could also become his next victim. He was looking for lambs who were easily disarmed. In effect, the profile was helping to disarm them! Those who knew Lee describe him most often as gregarious, charming, and flirtatious—not awkward. When he was caught in Atlanta, he was luring women to his room with the promise of cognac. Of course, he was also leading a Bible study group between barbeques.
Even though task force officials met with families of the victims, that’s exactly where some of the most heated criticism, understandably, came from. At one of several rallies held on the capitol steps, parents, husbands, siblings, and friends vented their mounting frustration on local authorities, whom Pam Kinamore’s brother said were “in over their heads.” Pam’s mother, Lynne Marino, appeared on TV to air her frustrations at the investigation. When police finally captured Lee, Marino, in a barb at investigators of the Multi-Agency Homicide Task Force, told the Advocate: “Well, I’m thrilled. I was worried that he was going to turn around and come back to his safe haven, Louisiana.”
Most of the comments came from a place of deep pain and loss. Carrie Yoder’s boyfriend said he was relieved at Lee’s capture, but also confessed, “I’m very, very angry. I have so much rage inside me right now that I feel like I’m coming apart at the seams.”
I am thoroughly convinced now that there is no ultimate authority on serial killers. There is no cookie-cutter solution in the face of this type of madness. No one has all the answers.
In the end, I sent Chief Englade an email of congratulations on the night Lee was captured. I meant it when I said: “You and law enforcement are to be commended for the long hours and efforts that have broken this case.” Of course by “law enforcement” I also meant the attorney general and the Zachary Police Department, who were not part of the task force. Indeed, I do not want to lose track of the fact that the evidence the task force assimilated on Charlotte Murray Pace’s death, as well as the others, was utilized to convict Lee and get him the death sentence he so deserves. They did a lot of hard work. On the other hand, in my humble, non-law enforcement opinion, their exclusionary strategy proved to be a fatal flaw.
A SURVIVOR’S ACCOUNT
We now have an eyewitness account of the methods Lee used to subdue his victims. That account comes from a very brave woman who survived one of his assaults and lived to confront him face-to-face—in court. Diane Alexander, a nurse from Breaux Bridge, Louisiana, gave her testimony in January 2004, on the second day of Lee’s pretrial hearing in the murder case of Charlotte Murray Pace.
On July 9, 2002, three days before Pam Kinamore would be abducted from her home, a young clean-cut black man who identified himself only as “Anthony” presented himself at Diane’s door. He seemed harmless enough, standing there on her porch, claiming he was lost and trying to find “the Montgomerys,” friends of his who lived in the area. He requested the use of her telephone. He also asked about Diane’s husband, and upon learning that she was alone, he barged into the house. She tried to close the door, but the muscular Lee quickly overpowered her.
Then, in a blitz attack, he grabbed her by the throat, dragged her inside, and pinned her against the door. He produced a knife and threatened to stab her in the eye. His level of excitement was readily betrayed by his profuse sweating. He then pushed her skirt up and tried to rape her. Diane stated that he could not get an erection. By this time, Lee’s victim was confused and probably impaired from the lack of blood flow to her brain from the chokehold he had on her. He left her for a moment, to return with a phone cord, which he wrapped about her neck and began to strangle her. Death was imminent.
But Lee was interrupted when a car suddenly crunched its way into the gravel driveway. It was Diane’s son. Lee had to bail, but not before one last savage assault: he stomped his half-conscious victim prior to making his escape.
Diane’s son, Herman, had missed Lee, but he had caught a glimpse of Lee’s car.
Diane was hospitalized with a skull fracture and other blunt-force injuries. Lee’s whisper was still in her ears: “I’ve been watching you.”
Lee took the phone cord with him. It was collected as evidence at Whiskey Bay, 450 feet from the recently discovered body of Pam Kinamore.
The high point of her testimony came when Diane Alexander pointed a finger at Lee and said that she was absolutely sure, without a shadow of a doubt, that Lee was her assailant on that fateful day.
It was what the families of the murdered women wanted to hear. They applauded so loudly that Judge Richard Anderson had to issue a warning about such outbursts.
CONVICTION NUMBER ONE
In August of 2004, Derrick Todd Lee faced charges for the murder of Geralyn DeSoto. He pleaded not guilty before the 18th Judicial Court, in West Baton Rouge. As the case unfolded, it was apparent that Lee had evidently resorted to his usual ruse in order to subdue Geralyn. He showed up at the door of her mobile home and asked to use her phone. He even made a call to a number he knew at Exxon.
She was hit so hard that she sustained brain trauma, but she was a fighter, just like Charlotte Murray Pace. But just as with Pace, he stabbed Geralyn to death and slashed her throat. He stabbed her twice in her back and twice near her breast. A reconstruction of the scene indicated that Geralyn had tried to make a dash for her bedroom, where she had a shotgun.
Lee was linked to her death by the DNA under her fingernails. It was his. There was no rape kit, as one had not been done. But the prosecution had Lee in the area, Lee’s bloody bootprint, Lee’s knife, which was compatible with Geralyn’s stab wounds, and Lee’s DNA. The jury came back 11-0 on a guilty verdict of second-degree murder. I say 11-0, in that they had eleven guilty votes and one juror simply did not vote. That came as a surprise but then again, only ten guilty votes were needed to convict Lee.
I think it’s significant to point out the fact that Amanda Landry, the nonvoting juror, did not vote that Lee was not guilty. She did not vote at all. She reported that she “needed one more thing” to convict him, but she didn’t know what that one thing was. She also stated that “they did
n’t need my vote.” That seemed odd to lots of folks I know. The evidence seemed overwhelming, to me, but it’s important to never count those chicks before they hatch. I think Landry’s most profound remarks centered around the desire she had expressed of always wanting to be on a jury. That statement was quickly followed by “Never again.” I guess it’s possible for those criminal justice TV dramas to give some false expectations to jurors also. I’m not suggesting this happened in Amanda Landry’s situation. But one should be careful of what they wish for.
In August of 2004, Lee was sentenced to life without parole.
CONVICTION NUMBER TWO
Two months later, on October 14, 2004, it took a Baton Rouge jury less than eighty minutes to find Lee guilty of first-degree murder in the death of Charlotte Murray Pace. The defense rested its case without calling a single witness. It was the second murder conviction for thirty-five-year-old Lee. Both Pace and DeSoto were in graduate school, both women were stabbed, and both had telephones taken from their homes. During the Pace trial, prosecutors presented DNA evidence linking Lee to five other raped and murdered women in Louisiana.
The jury rejected claims by defense attorneys that the twice-convicted killer was mentally retarded and thus ineligible for the death penalty. In December 2004, it took them only about ninety minutes to decide on a death sentence by lethal injection.
The pain of the survivors is unimaginable. Most who heard the survivors’ statements during the trial could not listen without sobbing. During the Charlotte Murray Pace murder trial, her father, Casey Pace, testified that he was “shocked a heart can keep beating when it hurts that bad.” Her mother, Ann, told jurors, “There’s no peace in sleep. No joy in holidays. It’s changed everything I thought myself to be. It’s changed the world. It’s a harder, darker world, a more frightening place than I ever thought it could be.”
Coroner's Journal: Forensics and the Art of Stalking Death Page 23
