Authors: M. William Phelps
With not much happening as the second week of February arrived, Donna contacted Pudgie, and they had a conversation about what the SAO and the WPD were specifically working on. Maureen had certainly rattled law enforcement’s cage. Thus far, however, nothing of any substance had emerged.
Pudgie said he first heard about the case from George Lescadre. I think, truthfully, George wanted Pudgie’s help. Pudgie told me that he had gotten permission from John Connelly to get actively involved—to work on the case basically. This opened up a great resource for us; someone who was not judging me, but looking to get to the truth, which is all I ever wanted.
Pudgie bore a striking resemblance to comedian Steve Harvey, with his thick and bushy mustache, athletic build, and carefree, friendly, and endearing spirit and demeanor. He also brought something very important to the table for Donna: Pudgie knew Dr. Henry Lee personally. Lee rose to fame during the infamous “Wood Chipper Murder” case in the late 1980s. He had been part of OJ Simpson’s “dream team” defense. According to his bio, over the past four decades, Lee had assisted in the investigations of more than six thousand cases, including war crimes in Bosnia and Croatia; the suicide of President Clinton’s former White House attorney, Vince Foster; review of the JFK assassination; the death of JonBenet Ramsey; and scores of other high-profile crime cases. Lee was also chief emeritus of the Connecticut State Police, founder and professor of the Henry C. Lee Institute of Forensic Science at the University of New Haven, editor of seven academic journals, and author/coauthor of forty books and more than three hundred articles.
Pudgie and Donna discussed the possibility that Donna could one day contact the doctor. If she could get Lee to not only retest the DNA—as Connelly had said he was trying to accomplish—but also to take on her cause, Donna would have a high-profile advocate in her corner, someone who could perhaps take a look at how the crime scene was handled on the night of the assault and make a professional judgment as to if proper procedures were followed. If not, maybe Lee and Donna could make some changes to the system. One of Lee’s specialties—probably what he was best known throughout the world for—was crime-scene reconstruction. Donna was also beginning to develop a vision of somehow changing policies and procedures, so that what had happened to her would never happen to another victim of sexual assault.
Right away Pudgie made Donna feel as though the tide was turning. He told Donna, “I’ve known John forever. I think the world of him.”
This made Donna smile.
“I think what happened was that the person [the WPD’s informant] was speculating and gossiping about you,” Pudgie explained.
“Things spiraled out of control from there. One thing led to another,” he added.
Hearing this made Donna feel comfortable.
“We’re going to ask this guy to come forward on his own,” Pudgie continued, “and tell us why he said those things about you.”
“Great.”
“I’ll give him a few days to do that, and if he doesn’t, I’ll turn his name over to you and your attorney.”
Donna wanted to cry. Someone was finally listening.
There had always been a theory among those who backed Donna that maybe the guy who pulled Neil O’Leary aside that night and told him about that rumor was perhaps the same man who had raped Donna. Or perhaps he had been installed in that rumor-spreading role to protect a cop buddy, or someone higher up. In dispersing the rumor, he was trying to throw off the scent of the investigation.
Donna asked Pudgie what he thought of that theory. Did it hold any water?
“I don’t think so. I feel it’s unrelated to the suspect. He’s probably just some ‘busybody’ who should have kept his mouth shut.”
“What about Jeff Martinez; can you tell us anything about him?” Donna asked, gravely concerned, of course, that the WPD had not investigated Jeff thoroughly enough and were simply blowing smoke about looking at him.
“The reports are thorough, Donna. They did interview Jeff. His wife was with him. He went down to the station willingly. He seemed to impress the investigators. His background checks out. He’s had only one breach of peace charge his whole life. Jeff was even willing to take a lie detector test and gave up his blood without argument.”
It was easy to trust a guy like Pudgie. Donna felt confident about the information.
Pudgie talked about another WPD detective who had been assigned to the case. Detective Sergeant Neil O’Leary, the same investigator to whom the informant had relayed the rumor at that social event. O’Leary would now be a point man for Donna. Neil had introduced himself to Donna and John on January 19, 1994. Neil said he typically investigated murders, but he was now part of the investigation because Donna’s case had been transferred to the Detective Bureau from Vice as part of the SAO’s involvement. Neil had been with the WPD since 1980. He had worked his way up the law enforcement chain the old-school way: hard work. What would help Donna’s case was that Neil had experience in DNA, having worked in the forensic lab from 1983 to 1988. He had also served in the Criminal Investigation Bureau and investigated all sorts of crimes, before moving on to the Major Crimes unit, with a focus on murder investigation. His best attribute, however, was that from the outset Neil O’Leary had no agenda. There was nothing driving Neil but getting to the truth and solving the case.
Neil already had feelings about the case, according to Pudgie. “He’s on your side,” Pudgie told Donna. “He listened to the 911 call and said he could hear the pain in your voice.”
Donna was impressed. Everything she wanted to happen was beginning to fall into place. Moran and his boys were out, and a new team was taking over.
“If Jeff’s not the guy,” Pudgie said, explaining that they were waiting on a DNA comparison, “what Neil and I are going to do is start at the beginning. Neil and I are determined to solve the case.”
My husband had told me about his encounter with Pudgie and how sincere Pudgie was in his offer to help us. It meant a lot to John and me. We also knew that Pudgie was very connected to the goings on in the city and had established a lot of sources for information. Before we met Neil O’Leary, Pudgie told me Neil was a good guy and he would help us. At that point, I didn’t trust anyone within the WPD, including Neil O’Leary. Why should I? They had accused me of being a liar. We decided that the first time I would meet Neil face-to-face, Pudgie would be there.
Donna spoke to her source inside the SAO one day soon after talking with Pudgie and learned that “the Morans,” as her source called them, had a history of complaints involving sexual assault cases.
Surprise, surprise.
There were “child sexual abuse cases,” Donna wrote in her notes of the conversation, “where the Morans somehow got involved and came at the victims skeptically and acted like they didn’t believe them.”
To hear this coming from the SAO was stunning. But it did, in some strange way, give Donna some insight into what was going on. There was a pattern. A precedent.
A funny thing began to happen as Donna went about her daily routine, and it scared the hell out of her on more than one occasion. She was driving in the town of Prospect one day on a main roadway. As she stopped for a turn, waiting for traffic to pass, she noticed Jeff Martinez driving toward her in his work truck. Jeff stared at Donna, and she back at him.
A few days later Jeff was sitting at a stoplight in a gray Cadillac when Donna, John, and their two kids crossed the street after attending a play downtown. They happened to walk directly past the front of Jeff’s caddy.
Donna looked and realized it was him.
Two weeks went by, and they crossed paths again on the road, making eye contact but not gesturing.
A day after that incident, Donna had an appointment in New Haven, a forty-minute drive from Waterbury. As she headed south on Route 69, a heavily traveled road just outside Waterbury, Donna noticed a yellow school bus behind her. She didn’t think anything of it, of course. But after the school bus made a left turn and Donna continued straight, the car in back of the bus moved up behind her and, to her great surprise and shock, Donna found herself staring directly at Jeff in her rearview mirror.
“Jeff was watching me,” Donna wrote in her notes.
She was so frightened that she picked up her car phone—at the time a bulky thing akin to a kitchen wall phone—and pretended to call someone. At an intersection ten miles outside town, Donna sped up and parked between two cars, losing Jeff for a moment, only to watch as he slowly drove by, looking in all directions, as if searching for her.