Lust Killer (22 page)

Rawls had told Stovall and Daugherty about the trips to junkyards with Brudos to buy auto parts. He had also mentioned how strong Jerry Brudos was. "He could take all the weight of a three-hundred-pound freezer and never sweat. I'm strong, but his strength exceeds anything I've ever seen."

The witness list was growing longer, and Brudos' attorneys, George Rhoten and Dale Drake, foresaw a terrible macabre circus in court. They had their psychiatrists' evaluations and the reports of the state's psychiatrists. They knew that the insanity plea would not hold up; Jerome Brudos had been adjudged sane within M'Naghten's parameters. They did not relish such a trial—either for their client or for the victims' families, who would have to go through the ordeal.

Jerry Brudos had talked quite openly with Rhoten and Drake, going over the murders, albeit a trifle less specifically than he had with Jim Stovall and the psychiatric evaluators. They were convinced almost from the beginning that their client was guilty of murder. He had told them so himself.

A criminal defense attorney works within restrictive bonds—both legal and ethical. He cannot reveal what his client has said to him in privileged communication. Yet he cannot misrepresent or falsify to the court. No responsible criminal defense attorney would seek to free a man of Brudos' killing propensities. When Rhoten and Drake had reviewed the possibilities of a defense from every angle, they saw that the
only
way to try for a not-guilty defense was to pursue a not-guilty-by-reason- of-insanity plea. They had approached Brudos with their conclusions, and he had not been particularly amenable to their advice. An insanity plea warred with his vastly overrated perception of his superior mental abilities. He argued that it would demean him to be portrayed as "crazy," and they countered that it would save him from prison. And so they had convinced him and entered original pleas of not guilty, and not guilty by reason of insanity, but Brudos had gone along only grudgingly, taking still another opportunity to remind Rhoten that he, "the crazy man," had an I.Q. of 166, that he was close to or surpassing genius.

Now, toward the end of June 1969, Rhoten and Drake found themselves between a rock and a hard place. Not a single psychiatrist or psychologist could testify that Jerry Brudos was insane at the time of his crimes—or at present. Whatever basis there might have been for an insanity defense had crumbled as the psychiatric reports came in.

The defense attorneys had a client whose burgeoning ego made him resistant to suggestion. And still they had to counsel him that he must now change his plea to one of guilty—or risk being flayed in court with the specific revelations of what he had done. If the details of his crimes came out in open court, he would be vilified by the media.

There was no question of the death penalty; it had been outlawed in Oregon years earlier. The last killer to die in the gas chamber in Oregon was Albert Carnes. He was executed in the early 1950s for the ax murder of a widow in her eighties named Litchfield. A woman had been
sentenced
to die for the murder of her lover's two small children in the 1960s—but emotion ran so high at the thought of the execution of a woman that then-Governor Mark Hatfield commuted her sentence to life in prison. (She was paroled in 1985.) Jerry Brudos did not have to worry about being put to death for his crimes.

In the last week of June, George Rhoten and Dale Drake had an hours'-long conference with Jerry Brudos. They explained to him that he would undoubtedly be incarcerated—either in a mental hospital or in the state prison—and that, given their knowledge of the facilities at the Oregon state mental hospital, he might fare better in prison.

"Jerry, you will have to be separated from society—both for your own good and for the good of society. Do you understand that?"

Brudos nodded.

"I don't consider that you are insane," Rhoten said. "And neither do the experts."

Brudos answered that he did not think he was insane or that he lacked any mental capacity to participate in decisions about his case.

"Mr. Drake and I are obliged to extend you every legitimate defense that can be brought to bear on your behalf. You are entitled to the constitutional guarantees that are afforded defendants. But you have told me certain things you say are fact, and you have told me that what you told Dr. Suckow was true." (Brudos' statements to Suckow were detailed and damning-—as much as or more than the statements made to Jim Stovall.) "You have told me that what you told Sergeant Stovall can probably be used against you, and I feel there is independent evidence strong enough to convict you."

They talked for many hours, discussing over and over again the possibility that an insanity plea would fail, and the tremendous amount of physical evidence that the police had that was incriminating to Brudos.

Brudos was hesitant to plead guilty. He had been so sure that he would beat the police and the court.

"Now, Jerry Brudos," Rhoten said quietly, "you have told me that these things were done, and I believe you. I believe that you're telling me the truth, but I want to have some further corroboration. I want to know, in my own mind, whether or not there is something, by some quirk, that you are telling me to mislead me, so I am going to ask that this physical evidence be shown."

And so the two attorneys representing Brudos went to the evidence room and looked at the pictures, the rope, the breast molds, the leather postal strap, all of the wealth of damning evidence that had come from Brudos' home or had been attached to the victims' bodies in the river.

A miasma rose from the clothing, permeating the room. As they gazed at the evidence, it was difficult for Rhoten and Drake. At length, Rhoten returned to his client and said, "Well, this is correct; these facts are true."

There could be no denying that all Brudos' confessions were true—not after seeing his insanely lustful face in the photograph with one of his victims' bodies.

"I would like to talk to my wife—before I make a final decision to plead guilty," Brudos said.

Drake left the interview room and made arrangements for Darcie to be brought to the jail. Pale and trembling almost imperceptibly, Darcie walked into the room an hour later.

When she was through talking to her husband, she had no more illusions. It was over. Her marriage. Her life, it seemed. She had no home for her children. She had no money.

Jerry was guilty of murder, and he was going to say so in court. She did not know what she was going to do.

CHAPTER TWENTY

If Salem courtroom observers expected to spend a good part of their summer in the Marion County Courthouse hearing all the details of Jerry Brudos' crimes—closeted there in the isolation and drama of a shocking murder trial—they were to be disappointed—at least for the time being.

There would be no trial for Jerry Brudos.

Attorneys George Rhoten and Dale Drake notified Judge Val Sloper that they had a motion to entertain in the late afternoon of June 27, 1969. Only a few of the principals gathered there in the quiet courtroom: Judge Sloper, Rhoten, Drake, District Attorney Gary Gortmaker, Jim Stovall, Gene Daugherty—and, of course, Jerry Brudos himself. Brudos, who had heretofore taken direction from no other human being, had listened to the sage advice of his attorneys. Going in, he had not had the chance of a snowball in hell of winning acquittal. Stovall, Daugherty, and their crew of investigators had gathered evidence and confessions that marked him as a mass killer, and even he could see that.

It was four-fifteen on that warm Friday afternoon when Brudos' plea was entered.

Judge Sloper began with the district attorney. "Mr. Gortmaker?"

"May it please the Court, in the matter of the State of Oregon, plaintiff, versus Jerome Henry Brudos, defendant, case number 67640, the defendant is in court with his attorneys, Mr. Dale Drake and Mr. George Rhoten. This defendant was previously indicted by the Marion County Grand Jury and charged with the crime of murder in the first degree involving Karen Elena Sprinker allegedly occurring on March 27, 1969. The defendant appeared in court and with his attorneys on the fourth day of June 1969 and entered a plea of not guilty and a plea of not guilty by reason of insanity to the charge alleged in the indictment. I have been informed by the attorneys for the defendant that they desired to appear in court and have a request of the court at this time.

"Also, your Honor, I believe the defendant and his attorneys would like to appear before the court on two other cases, case number 67698, a charge of first-degree murder of Jan Susan Whitney, allegedly occurring on the twenty-sixth day of November 1968; and case number 67700, a charge of first-degree murder of Linda Dawn Salee, allegedly occurring on the twenty-third day of April 1969.

"The defendant appeared in court and with his attorneys on both of these charges and case number 67698 and 67700 on the thirteenth day of June 1969, and entered a plea of not guilty and not guilty by reason of insanity. I believe they have a request of the court in those two cases also."

Judge Sloper turned to Dale Drake. "All right. What is it, Mr. Drake?"

"Yes, your Honor. At this time, the defendant would like to make a motion before the court that he be allowed to withdraw the plea of not guilty by reason of insanity previously entered in case numbers 67640, and 67700, and 67698, the three cases of first-degree murder. The reason for this motion, your Honor, is that subsequent to the entry of said pleas on the dates stated by Mr. Gortmaker previously, the defendant has been examined by the following psychiatrists, all of whom were appointed by the court to examine the defendant. These psychiatrists were Dr. George Suckow, of Oregon state hospital; Drs. Ivor Campbell, Gerhard Haugen, Roger Smith, and Guy Parvaresh, all of Portland, Oregon."

"All right ," Sloper said.

"He was examined by Colin Slade and Howard Dewey too, who are two well-known psychologists from Portland. Also, an EEG test was run at the Oregon state hospital and that was scored by Dr. Phillip Reilly. We have also examined the prior medical histories of the defendant, which were present for our examination at the Oregon state hospital when the defendant was incarcerated there in 1956 and 1957.

"Based upon these reports and our own discussions with our client, we are certain at this time that the defendant is able to assist us in his defense. I might say, your Honor, that all of the reports and the examinations and diagnoses by each psychiatrist was substantially the same, and therefore, at this time, we would like to have this report by Dr. Guy Parvaresh marked as Defendant's Exhibit 1, and we would offer it at this time in aid of this motion."

Jerry Brudos sat implacably while the list of doctors who had found him eminently sane was read to the court. At length Judge Sloper asked the defendant himself to rise. Asked if he agreed with Drake's motion to plead guilty, he said that, yes, he had discussed the question with Rhoten and Drake and found that a guilty plea was "the most reasonable approach." He was quite willing to stipulate that he was able to intelligently assist his attorneys.

Indeed, Brudos seemed oddly pleased to be considered so sane and intelligent; it was what he had always wanted people to know.

Drake rose to formally withdraw the not-guilty-by-reason- of-insanity pleas. Sloper listened without expression and then asked, "And what would be the subsequent plea if you are permitted to do so?"

Drake's words dropped like stones in the quiet courtroom. "Guilty, your Honor."

"Mr. Drake, have you and Mr. Rhoten had the opportunity, and have you examined all of the—so far as you are aware—the state's files and the state's evidence?"

Dale Drake explained that he had been available to Jerry Brudos since the Friday night of his arrest—May 30—and that he had been formally appointed to represent Brudos the following Monday morning.

"From Friday night forward, I have been associated with this case, and I have examined the evidence at the time it was taken into custody by the state. Since that time, Mr. Rhoten and myself have examined this morning all of the evidence held by the state, the results of the crime-lab tests, and many pictures and physical evidence of that nature. The state has been most cooperative in this matter."

Sloper turned to the district attorney. "Mr. Gortmaker, have you as a matter of fact disclosed to the defendant's attorneys your complete files and all of the evidence that has been accumulated for the prosecution of these three cases?"

"Yes, your Honor. There was, by Detective Sergeant Stovall of the Salem City Police Department, and Lieutenant Eugene Daugherty of the Oregon state police, assembled at my request all of the exhibits anticipated for trial, together with the statements of witnesses, and a list of anticipated witnesses to be called by the state, and all of this evidence was made available to the defendant's attorneys. They did examine each exhibit, talked to the officers concerning the effect of physical evidence, where it was found and how it was acquired, and so far as I know, all of the evidence we anticipated using in the trial next Monday was made available. …"

 It is a necessary paradox, inherent in the law, that what begins with such profound emotions as terror and panic must come down to the dry, stolid language of the courtroom. Jerry Brudos' victims had had no chance; he, now, had every chance to understand the ramifications of his guilty pleas.

Did he understand the penalty for conviction of murder in the first degree?

"Yes, your Honor. Life imprisonment."

Sloper wanted to be sure he
really
understood the penalties. It was unlikely that cases so heinous would be punishable at a bargain rate—three for the price of one. "Do you understand that the court has the right in a situation, such as here, where there are multiple charges, that it can direct that the sentence imposed may run consecutively to one earlier imposed, and that it is possible that the maximum penalty in this case could be to sentence you to the Oregon State Penitentiary for an indeterminate period of time, the maximum of which is your life, three different times, and two of them to run consecutively to the first, and to each other? Are you aware of that?"