The slide projected nearly life-size onto the wall was trying to
tell us something. It also posed a question: murder or suicide?
The slide projected nearly life-size onto the wall was trying to tell us something. It also posed a question: murder or suicide?
The seventh class of the Hollister Citizens Police Academy studied the image for several moments, seeking the answer.
A small room. A bed covered with a blood-stained spread, a rumpled blanket on top. A TV remote control on the floor. A book of matches on the carpet near a small table.
I tried to remember everything about clues from every “Dragnet” episode I’d seen, plus both movies – not counting the cheesy ’80s remake with Dan Ackroyd and Tom Hanks, which had about as much to do with police work as does the X-treme Football League with compassionate conservatism.
The headboard was fixed to the wall, separate from the bed, suggesting that the crime scene – a real one in the Hollister Police Department files, not a simulation – was a motel room. Either that, or someone got interior decorating tips from Tom Bodett, the “We’ll leave the light on for ya” guy in the Motel 6 ads.
“Is there such a thing as ‘the perfect crime?'” Det. George Ramirez asked the class.
“No,” I said – half out-loud, without much conviction. “There’s always a hole someplace.”
But after letting the class study the photo for about 10 minutes, Ramirez, the head of the HPD’s Property Crimes Unit (“There’s one guy in the unit – me,” he said), admitted that this particular case had gone unsolved.
Nevertheless, the point was made. “Every crime scene has a story to tell,” Ramirez said. “It’s our job to figure out what that story is.”
An investigator’s first rule is to always assume that a criminal has left physical evidence at a crime scene.
Ramirez explained that “physical evidence” can be found in extremely minute forms.
“I can prove you were in this room tonight,” Ramirez said, partially answering the “perfect crime” question. Our fingerprints would be on everything from the tables where we sat to the cups we drank from, he said. DNA evidence could be taken from the cups and microfibers from the carpet could be found on the soles of our shoes.
Crime scene investigation is a science whose modern evolution began in the 1930s, when FBI director J. Edgar Hoover’s crime lab set universal standards for gathering and analyzing evidence.
But Hoover, who died in 1972, before the advent of DNA profiling, probably never realized the application potential of deoxyribonucleic acid, one of the basic building blocks of all life forms on earth.
DNA analysis can work in two different directions. Two weeks ago, Michael Adams of Salinas was charged with the kidnap, rape and murder of a Monterey woman – a crime that took place in 1981.
“Mr. Adams wasn’t even considered a suspect until his DNA profile was compared with the (Department of Justice) database,” Ramirez said.
Conversely, as of two months ago, 72 California prison inmates had been released because DNA evidence proved their innocence.
Evidence comes in two forms: physical – blood, fingerprints, DNA – and testimonial, gathered from interviewing witnesses and others connected to a crime. However incriminating or exonerating testimonial evidence may be, it’s physical evidence that usually seals a case when it goes to court.
“Juries want to see the smoking gun,” Ramirez said. “Some juries feel cheated if you don’t show them that. It’s very important to present it to them.”
Adjunct to identifying evidence is the preservation of it. A careless investigator might inadvertently smear a fingerprint that could be the difference between conviction and acquittal. A partial palm print on a bedroom window led to the arrest and conviction of Richard Allen Davis for the 1993 kidnapping and murder of 12-year-old Polly Klaas.
CHP – more than patrolling the highways
Assuming that an adventurous nature is one prerequisite for police work, it’s perhaps a bit surprising that the Gilroy-Hollister unit of the California Highway Patrol is understaffed.
The Gilroy-based office covers the area along U.S. 101 from Blossom Hill Road in south San Jose to the Red Barn north of Prunedale, and in San Benito County as far south as Pinnacles National Monument.
It’s a lot of territory to cover, a lot of driving to do – with the potential for high-speed chases.
The pay’s not bad, either. A CHP officer at the top of the scale can make $65,000 per year.
Yet Adam Rodriguez, public affairs officer for the local CHP unit, told the class the sector’s force of 32 officers should be closer to 50.
Maybe those who aspire to a career in law enforcement changed their minds about the CHP after viewing the video on its academy at Evergreen Valley College in east San Jose.
Apparently modeled after a Marine Corps boot camp, the academy is “Sir, yes sir!” in-your-face with 1,200 hours in the classroom, covering 45 different subjects.
“You will work harder in the next 12 weeks than you’ve ever worked in your life!” a drill instructor screamed at a formation of recruits in the video.
So stringent is the CHP’s recruitment process that it can take up to a year to be hired, Rodriguez said.
The idea is the same as that held by the Marines: When the time for graduation rolls around, every recruit in the class is expected to be a California Highway Patrolman.
To date, some 6,598 wear the CHP’s khaki uniform – 600 of them women. They cover 104,995 miles of highway statewide.
On those highways in 1999 – the latest year for which figures are available – there were 3,144 fatal collisions with 3,559 deaths. Another 188,730 collisions involved injuries to 288,727 people.
But don’t get the idea that CHP officers’ duties are limited to patrolling the highways – despite the name of the agency.
“We do a lot more than people realize – more than just write tickets,” Rodriguez said. “The main reason I wear this uniform is to save lives on the roadways of San Benito County, but we have the same authority as the Hollister Police and the county sheriffs.”
Formed in 1929 with officers from different counties, the California Highway Patrol merged with the State Police in 1995 to become a single unit. The duties of its officers range from patrolling the state’s highways to acting as a sort of Secret Service unit to protect the governor. In addition to its famed black-and-white cruisers and motorcycles, the CHP employs helicopters and airplanes, off-road motorcycles and even horses.
Cops are parents, too
Megan’s Law was enacted in 1996, providing police agencies in the United States with CDs containing information on registered sex offenders. Named for 7-year-old Megan Kanka, the victim of a sexual assault and murder in New Jersey by a known sex offender, the law classifies offenders in three categories: high-risk, serious and other.
There are 1,400 registered high-risk sex offenders in California. Two of them live in San Benito County – one in Hollister, one in San Juan Bautista. Sixty-seven others in the county are classified as “serious,” with 11 offenders in the “other” category.
Hollister Police Detective James Egan said the figures are consistent with those of other counties in the state as a percentage of population.
High-risk offenders are those with multiple convictions and at least one for a violent sex crime. “Serious” offenders have been convicted of crimes such as assault with intent to commit rape, while “other” offenders – whose information is not subject to public disclosure – have been convicted of misdemeanor sexual battery charges or indecent exposure.
Egan, a 6-year veteran of the HPD and a specialist in sexual assault and child molestation cases, said high-risk offenders tend to move frequently because their names, descriptions and locations are available to any adult by viewing the CD at the police department.
When they move into an area, they’re not well-received – for obvious reasons.
“We had a block meeting,” Egan said. “There was an uproar. I sat with them (the neighbors of Hollister’s high-risk offender) for about two hours and explained to them that he could live anyplace he wanted. There’s no law against it.”
One exception is that a registered sex offender on parole cannot live within 1/2 mile of a school. Failure to register upon moving, changing names or marital status or a myriad of other changes is a felony and a “strikable” offense under the “three strikes” law. Before viewing the CD, residents must fill out a form, that is filed in Sacramento. The CD has several options for searching for an offender.
The public can also call a 900 number for information, but the cost is $10 for each offender being investigated and only two can be investigated per call.
Egan said being assigned to such cases – those that can rip families apart like almost no other – has changed him.
“I have a 7-year-old daughter,” he said. “It’s made me completely paranoid. Instead of letting her run out and play, I like to keep an eye on her.”
Cops are fathers, too.
