Table Of Contents

Table Of Contents free pdf ebook was written by on May 17, 2002 consist of 88 page(s). The pdf file is provided by www.klaaskids.org and available on pdfpedia since October 26, 2011.

2 table of contents introduction page 3 day one: the peoples' case page 4 day two: turnstile justice page 6 day three: nowhere to hide page 8 day four: web of fear ...

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Table Of Contents - page 1
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Table Of Contents - page 2
Table Of Contents Introduction Day One: The Peoples’ Case Day Two: Turnstile Justice Day Three: Nowhere To Hide Day Four: Web of Fear Day Five: The Palm Print Day Six: Laurel and Hardy of Tragedy Day Seven: No Way Out Day Eight: Two-Pack Confession Day Nine: A Life Back in Order Day Ten: The Devil’s Playground Day Eleven: Safe Sex Day Twelve: The Promise Day Thirteen: The Empty Eyes of Death Day Fourteen: Turning Point Day Fifteen: Three Strikes Day Sixteen: Patterns Day Seventeen: Dream Crime Day Eighteen: The Loss Day Nineteen: End Game Day Twenty: The Defense Day Twenty-One: Travesty of Justice Day Twenty-Two: The Myth of Closure Day Twenty-Three: The Last Word Day Twenty-Four: A Day In The Life Day Twenty-Five: No More Music Day Twenty-Six: The Gesture Day Twenty-Seven: Top Ten Reasons Davis Should Die Day Twenty-Eight: The Abuse Excuse Day Twenty-Nine: Victim Impact Statements Day Thirty: Boomerang Day Thirty-One: Jonathan’s Gift Day Thirty-Two: Spin Doctor Day Thirty-Three: Ripples In The River Day Thirty-Four: Fair Play Day Thirty-Five: The Faces of Evil Day Thirty-Six: The Blame Game Day Thirty-Eight: Sympathy For The Devil Day Thirty-Nine: The Devil’s Advocate Day Forty: Victims Of Irony Page 3 Page 4 Page 6 Page 8 Page 10 Page 12 Page 13 Page 16 Page 18 Page 20 Page 22 Page 23 Page 25 Page 27 Page 29 Page 31 Page 34 Page 36 Page 40 Page 42 Page 45 Page 47 Page 49 Page 51 Page 53 Page 55 Page 57 Page 59 Page 60 Page 62 Page 71 Page 72 Page 74 Page 76 Page 78 Page 79 Page 81 Page 83 Page 85 Page 87 2
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Introduction Due to stark and eerie similarities between events that occurred almost nine years and 500 miles apart, comparisons are being made between the 1993 kidnap and murder of my daughter Polly Klaas and the 2002 kidnap and murder of little Danielle van Dam. As publicity surrounding the Danielle van Dam murder trial invades the public conscience, many people have asked me about my family’s experience during the 1996 criminal trial for my daughter Polly’s killer. Although many of the traumatic events of the trial are burned into memory for eternity, others fade with the passage of time. Fortunately, I maintained a trial journal, written in the immediate aftermath of daily deliberations. Although the events of the Danielle van Dam murder trial are unique, the emotions of Danielle’s family are guaranteed to mirror those of the Klaas family in many ways. So that interested parties may better understand the trauma of sitting only feet from the individual who callously and without conscience murders ones child, and having to do so without outward emotion or embellishment, the trial journal will remain on the KlaasKids Foundation website until the conclusion of the Danielle Van Dam murder trial. Because of the graphic nature of a child-murder trial, much of the language and many of the descriptions in the following journal are not suitable for children. Please use caution and discretion in reading this Trial Journal. Marc Klaas 3
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Day One: The Peoples’ Case The Polly Klaas kidnapping-murder trial began yesterday in San Jose, California with a simple statement by Sonoma County Prosecutor Greg Jacobs. “This trial is the story of the last few hours in the life of a 12-year-old girl,” Jacobs told the jury. Then followed a meticulous minute-by-minute account of the evidence and events that followed the October 1, 1993, 10:20 p.m. kidnapping at knifepoint of Polly from a slumber party in her bedroom. Richard Allen Davis, on parole for a previous conviction, following several others for knife-and-sex crimes against women in a lifetime career of violent crime, also bound, gagged, and tied pillow-cases over the heads of 12-year-old friends, Kate McLean and Gillian Pelham, while Polly’s mother and 7-year-old little sister, Eve and Annie Nichol, slept in the next room of their Petaluma home. Most of the details were recounted by Jacobs from three video-taped admissions by Davis to former Petaluma Detective Sergeant Mike Meese before, during, and after a December 4 trip to Cloverdale, north of Petaluma where the accused showed where he had hidden Polly’s body after admittedly strangling her twice, once with a cloth garrote, again with a rope “to make sure.” Jacobs read aloud from a transcript of the videotaped admissions that Davis killed Polly to get rid of her to keep him from being sent back to prison. Jacobs promised to present four witnesses who saw Davis near Polly’s house around the time of the kidnapping. A scalding piece of testimony, the 911 tape of Polly’s mother, Eve, and her friend, Kate, trying to tell a skeptical voice at the other end of the line about the kidnapping, once the girls had struggled free of their bindings, obviously startled the jury and agonized her family clinging to one another in the court’s front row. Details of the body’s decomposition and dismemberment wreaked havoc on her father, Marc, his wife Violet, grandmother B.J. Klaas, grandfathers Joe Klaas and Gene Reed, aunt Eva Cheer, and family friends. The incredibly effective opening argument by the prosecution followed final selection of twelve jurors and five alternates before noon. 4
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The big question now is what could possibly be an effective opening argument Wednesday by the defense in what on the first day seems to be a slam- dunk start by the prosecution. 5
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Day Two: Turnstile Justice Initially, recently paroled career criminal Richard Allen Davis denied killing “the fucking little broad.” However, in subsequent interviews, he not only admitted that he murdered Polly, he led authorities to her body near Cloverdale, California. Thus began two and a half years of legal maneuvering designed to forestall the inevitable. During the people’s opening statement, prosecutor Greg Jacobs painted a chilling portrait of humanity run amok. The unbelievable, but all to common, criminal history of Polly’s killer spans more than two decades and includes incidents of kidnapping, robbery, assaults with shotguns, handguns, knives and fireplace pokers. Always, the victims were women, alone and vulnerable. Often times they would escape, notify authorities and Davis would return to prison. Finally, he could take it no more. He had to find a victim that could not, would not, fight back. A small victim that he could control: Perhaps a little girl, under the veil of darkness, where he could hide in the shadows and deny his crimes. Davis has been serving a life sentence on the installment plan. He spent eighteen out of the past twenty-one years behind bars. Every time he is released from prison, the seriousness and nature of his crimes escalate. He is the worst example of turnstile justice our system has to offer. Therefore, it should not have come as a surprise, when, during his brief opening statement, Davis' attorney made the startling admission that, “The evidence will be overwhelming that Richard Allen Davis did kill Polly Klaas. We will not dispute that.” However, he stated that there was, “No evidence of attempted sexual contact.” In other words, he killed her, but you cannot prove that he raped her, so please do not execute him. Unfortunately, this unexpected admission changes nothing. The people must still prove special circumstances in order to qualify Davis for the death penalty. The overwhelming mountain of evidence against him will be methodically displayed, dissected, analyzed and explained to the jury picked to sit in judgment. The locker containing the damning evidence is within reach of Polly’s grandfather, as he sits fifteen feet from the un-remorseful killer and a macabre form of justice is played out for all to witness. 6
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We must still sit through several months of gruesome details. We must hear pitiful excuses and justifications. We must continue to waste time and money defending the indefensible. California taxpayers have already spent two million dollars and two and a half years considering the rights of a monster who did not consider the rights of his victim for ten seconds. 7
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Day Three: Nowhere To Hide The sun is coming up and the vampire has nowhere to hide. He reluctantly stood, without comment, and moved to the middle of the courtroom. Slowly, he unbuttoned his shirtsleeves and rolled them above his elbows. He crossed his left hand over his right wrist and turned slightly, toward the witness and away from his lawyers. The witness stared at the beefy forearms and confirmed that he had seen them before. The witness, Daryl Stone, went to Wickersham Park, diagonally across the street from Polly’s house, one week prior to the abduction. He passed within twenty feet of the killer who was sitting on a park bench, one hundred and fifty yards from Polly’s house, with a heavy set, ruddy complexioned woman. He was wearing dirty jeans and a sweatshirt with cut sleeves. They were drinking liquor from a bottle in a paper bag, talking loudly. Their demeanor and attitude disgusted Stone. He did not want to be in the park with the crude couple, so he went home, one block away. He would not see Davis again until the early evening of the abduction, slowly driving around Polly’s neighborhood. The judge ordered the killer to face the jury. He glanced briefly at his lawyers and complied, eyes downcast. They stared at the crude, monotone blue prison tattoos that entirely covered his thick arms. The killer was exposed. He wore his soul on his sleeve, and there was nowhere to hide. Barry Collins, the defense lawyer, attacked Mr. Stone’s credibility. He challenged his memory, his sequence of events. Collins accused the witness of writing a book, which he denied. The lawyer asked redundant questions in an attempt to confuse the witness. It didn’t work. The lawyer suggested that Mr. Stone had contributed money to Polly’s search effort and distributed flyers. Mr. Stone admitted that it was true. Collins said that the witness picked the killer out of a lineup only after seeing his picture on television. “That’s not true,” replied Mr. Stone. The lawyer was unrelenting and aggressive in his assault. Mr. Stone held his ground. He was credible. He was telling the truth. Collins attempted similar tactics on all five witnesses that appeared today. How could they remember events that happened so long ago? Why weren’t they more precise with their timelines? Most of the witnesses were children, trying to dredge up memories from seemingly inconsequential events that happened over 8
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two and a half years ago. Two things stood out. The killer did not appear to be under the influence of drugs or alcohol. He walked with determination and confidence. They all picked him out of a lineup on December 1, 1993. Time makes memories fade, but not tattoos. The sun is coming up, and the vampire has nowhere to hide. 9
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Day Four: Web of Fear The killer spun a web of fear and intimidation around Polly’s neighborhood in the weeks and months preceding her abduction and murder. Many avoided the web. Only one was caught, and unable to escape. Today, three more witnesses identified the lurking transient who seemed out of place in the quiet middle class section of Petaluma. One boy observed the killer puking in Wickersham Park in early September. He asked the sick man if he needed help. “Get the hell out of here you stupid kid,” was the only response. An artist deliberately avoided the gaze of the man with the scary, darting eyes and the prison tattoos. A teacher, moonlighting as a house painter, unsuccessfully attempted to engage the man with the frightening demeanor in conversation on several occasions, as the killer wandered aimlessly around Polly’s neighborhood in early August. A police evidence expert described many of Polly’s personal belongings. Her purse with the cut strap used to bind one of Polly’s girlfriends: a lipstick that has no lips to paint. The pillowcase he put over her head, smeared on the inside with Halloween makeup, perhaps her final impressions on this earth. A pair of red tights twisted into a thick knot, and a Nintendo game, cords cut, to tie up her other girlfriend, covered with fingerprint dust. Little things that broke my heart, but made no impression on the smirking weaver of the web. Court is played out in monotone, devoid of emotion. Clinical explanations of events that make me want to scream and throw furniture. Matter of fact pieces of a macabre jigsaw puzzle, slowly and deliberately assembled, until an image begins to emerge: A portrait of a spider in the shadows, dripping with twisted desire, weaving a web of fear and feeding the desires that have driven him for so long. Weaving a web to catch his prey, and feeding the desires that drive him. As another endless day of mind numbing revelation comes to an end, the judge drops a bomb. Twenty-two hundred pages of sealed transcripts and the contents of sealed envelopes will be released to the media tomorrow. As we eat dinner and watch the news, the weaver of the web will explain between bites of cheeseburger, how he murdered her to get rid of the evidence. How he tossed her off the side of the freeway to rid himself of this minor inconvenience. How he traded his confession for two packs of camel cigarettes and protective custody. 10
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