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
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
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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
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
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
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
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
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
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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
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.
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