Jan Burke and the Crime Lab Project

by Andrea Campbell

My friend and colleague, Jan Burke, is the author of 12 novels and a collection of short stories. Her most recent novel is the supernatural thriller, The Messenger. Her works of crime fiction include Bloodlines, Flight, and the Edgar-winner for Best Novel, Bones. Her books have appeared on the USA Today and New York Times bestseller lists, been published internationally, and optioned for film. Her short stories have won the Macavity, the Agatha, and the Ellery Queen Readers Award. She will be a guest of honor, with Lee Child, at Left Coast Crime 2010 in Los Angeles.

Q: Jan, for Women in Crime Ink readers who don’t know you, can you please tell us a little bit about your background?

I'm finishing work on my 14th book. Most of my books are crime fiction, although the most recent, The Messenger, is a supernatural thriller. The one I'm writing now is another in the Irene Kelly series, something of a sequel to Bones.

Q: You’ve been quite successful as a mystery author. Would you talk about your latest books? Who is the character? What is their mission or goal?

In The Messenger, the hero is Tyler Hawthorne, who lay dying on the battlefield after Waterloo when he was offered a ring that would make him a Messenger — able hear the thoughts of the dying and convey their messages to their loved ones. Tyler accepts the bargain to become a near-immortal, forever 24 in appearance. We met him almost 200 years later in Los Angeles, by which time he has come to realize it wasn't such a good deal. Except for the company of Shade — a cemetery dog — he has led a nomadic and solitary life throughout those centuries.

The dying also convey messages to Tyler, and now they are hinting that his long service may be coming to an end. He begins to hope that he can return to a normal, mortal life, and allows himself to grow closer to a woman he has been strongly attracted to — unaware that he is being pursued by an old enemy who will stop at nothing to destroy him, nor that he can only leave his role of the Messenger at a terrible cost.

Q: I’m happy to have you here to talk about a key project of yours: the Crime Lab Project. Please explain what it is and how you got involved.

The Crime Lab Project is a nonprofit that raises public awareness of the problems and challenges facing public forensic science. We see the lack of support given to labs as a matter that has a growing negative impact on many areas, including law enforcement, criminal justice, health, public safety, and national security. It's costly, both in human suffering and economically.

Many people who are devoted fans of forensic science-themed shows and novels imagine forensic science labs to be ultra-modern, fully staffed by highly trained techs who whip out results almost as fast as the evidence comes in the door. The reality is far from this pleasant picture, and we need to wake up.

I got the bucket of cold water tossed on me in 2003. I was teaching a weekend class with a forensic scientist and a homicide detective. I learned — to my shock — that in many parts of the country, DNA was not being used to solve most rapes and murders. Yes, you read that right. Even when DNA evidence had been collected and sent to labs, those labs were so overwhelmed and underfunded that it took six months, a year, or even longer to get lab results.

So detectives were spending many hours on investigations without the help a lab could give them, time that might otherwise have been used on a case without physical evidence. Prosecutors spent hours preparing cases, all the while praying the tests would be completed by the trial date. Detectives and prosecutors hoped that at that point, the evidence would not show that for months (or longer), they had the wrong person in custody.

That same year, in October, I was asked to speak at the American Society of Crime Lab Directors. During that meeting, I heard these same stories again and again. I realized there was a way to "pay it forward" in response to forensic scientists' generosity to writers: writers were often before the public, and we could tell people about these problems. So I called a few friends, and by the time I spoke, I promised ASCLD that we would try to raise awareness. Within a few months, with the help of many of my colleagues in crime fiction, the CLP was born.

We have made progress, but there are still, as of this writing, hundreds of thousands of backlogged cases in the U.S.

Q: Most citizens are completely unaware of their own state’s medical examiner/coroner system and how it works. Is that why you created Forensic Friday: The Death Quiz? What type of feedback have you gotten on it?

Yes, we hope that taking the quiz will be help those who take it to get a sense of what is really going on out there. Death investigations affect so many areas of our lives, not just the solving of crimes. The fact is, in a large percentage of jurisdictions, those in charge of death investigations have received little or no training. ME/C offices are horribly underfunded. Really, it's a shameful situation.

People sometimes say, "Well, what the hell, the dead don't care!" But if you stop to think about it, almost everything the ME/C's office does is on behalf of the living. We pay a big price for our neglect. We mention some of the consequences in the quiz.

As for the quiz itself, the feedback has been great! Most people say, "Thank you! I failed it, but I learned a lot." It's not surprising that most people fail — few of us have seen the reality. We hope those who take it will spread the word about it!

Q.: You do a host of other things to draw attention to the sad state of affairs in crime labs around the country. Would you share some with us? 

In addition to the blog, we have a web site, a presence on Facebook and Twitter, and a weekly news list. We have sponsored email campaigns that alert our members and others of pending legislation affecting forensic science, and have seen them make a difference. We have provided speakers and helped with forensic science programming at conferences and conventions. We've created handouts and pamphlets. We've worked with organizations to sponsor forensic science events. Several mystery conventions, especially Bouchercon and Left Coast Crime, have been very supportive.

Sisters in Crime and Mystery Writers of America have both endorsed the CLP and generously allowed us to publish articles in their newsletters and be a part of some of their events. Members have written letters to the editors of their local papers and blogged about the topic, or mentioned it in interviews. Many of our members are also seeing the storytelling potential here — working backlogs, underfunding, and other problems into their stories and scripts. We've also maintained relationships with ASCLD and other forensic science professional organizations, who have been very helpful.

The CLP Foundation, a 501(c)3 nonprofit that supports our educational and charitable efforts, has allowed us to donate to labs and research, to sponsor educational events, and to provide scholarships to train death investigators.

Q.: I receive a mailing from you called CLP News. Please explain what that is. Also, is it difficult to keep up this newsletter? Do you have help and how do you manage to do it all?

CLP News is a weekly email newsletter containing brief descriptions and links to a selection of news stories about forensic science. It's free. Anyone may sign up for it by sending a blank email to http://www.blogger.com/CLPNews-subscribe@yahoogroups.com

After five years, I've got a system. As the director of the CLP and a crime writer, this is information I would need to be aware of in any case, so preparing it helps me to stay informed. Our members also send me links when they see articles of interest.

Q: What is your mission with getting involved in distributing crime lab information? What do you hope to gain?

Personally? The knowledge that I made a difference and helped others to make a difference, too. Families of victims have thanked us, and that is more than enough reward for me.

Here's the great news: this situation with forensic science can change. We can bring about that change for relatively little investment. Updating and staffing labs may seem expensive, but compared to other costs in the criminal justice system these are miniscule.

Think also about the costs of delayed trials, the cost of housing suspects for prolonged jail time s while tests are being conducted, the cost of investigations when detectives don't really have this powerful tool available to them, the cost of misdiagnosed causes of death, the cost of property loss committed by burglars who might be identified on a first or second break-in rather than a 20th, the cost of not identifying criminals as they enter the country. This list goes on and on. And it does not begin to cover the suffering and emotional costs to victims and their families.

What do I hope to gain? Ultimately, all the good that forensic science at its best can bring to our communities. I hope to see improvements in forensic science — improvement in the ability of our labs to provide it, in the quality of the work, in the efficiency with which it is provided.

Q: Is there anything else you would like to tell Women in Crime Ink readers?

Thanks — I'm grateful for this chance to talk to you, and I hope you will spread the word. Join us! Our membership is free and open to everyone who is willing to help. Most important of all —call or email your Congressional Representatives and Senators and tell them forensic science matters to you!

Thank you for being my guest, Jan.

Jan is currently at work on a new Irene Kelly novel.
Website: http://www.janburke.com/

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Did Beautiful, Young Florida Mom Kill Her Baby Girl? Two Legendary Homicide Detectives Weigh In

Along with the rest of the nation, Women in Crime Ink has been following the mysterious case of Caylee Anthony, the missing toddler whose mother, Casey, has been jailed in connection with her child's disappearance. We asked two veteran Texas homicide legends, Detective Roger Wedgeworth (above left) and his partner Detective Harry Fikaris (right), to give us their seasoned take on the case. Specifically, did a beautiful, young Florida mom kill her baby girl?

Q: What do you think happened to Caylee Anthony?

A: The case is very bizarre. If we’ve learned anything over the years, it's that you can't look at people like Casey Anthony and compare her to a normal person. People who have kids and are from a semi-functional family cannot even comprehend how a toddler like Caylee can go missing for an hour, much less 31 days, without getting police involved. The mother’s nanny story is a complete lie because there is not one person or piece of evidence that can prove the "nanny" ever existed.

Homicide 101 says you have to clear the mother first and her lack of cooperation has made it impossible to eliminate her as a suspect. Every part of this unfolding story points to the mother having killed her daughter and disposed of the body. Make no mistake. This woman knows what has happened to her child. Her calm, matter-of-fact attitude, her lies to police, and her clubbing with friends after her daughter was allegedly kidnapped, all raise plenty of red flags.

There has been speculation that Casey sold her daughter. We believe if the girl had been sold, Casey would have already given that information up just to get out of jail. We can only believe the worst has happened.

Q: Do investigators have as little to go on as it appears?

A: Trust us when we tell you that investigators are not giving out all the information. That’s a strategy detectives use. Sometimes you withhold information so people will come forward with everything they know. People are often scared but if some evidence is withheld, especially in an emotional case like this, the burden will start weighing on the person who knows something.

Investigators are looking at every credit card receipt and every cell phone call Casey made after her daughter disappeared. Every time she made a call, there’s a record of her location based on cell phone towers. If she made calls or bought anything on her credit card from an odd remote place, then that gives investigators more clues to what happened.

Q: What does Casey Anthony's behavior suggest to you?

A: Casey Anthony’s completely cold, matter-of-way she discusses her missing baby girl is a disturbing clue not just to any homicide detective but to any normal person. In our experience, this can only mean two things. She is extremely mentally ill, which we do not believe is the case, or she is responsible for what happened to her daughter.

We’ve interviewed parents who killed their kids, and we’ve interviewed parents whose kids were actually kidnapped. There is a huge difference. The killer parents speak cold, calmly, matter-of-factly and are worried more about themselves more than their children. That fits Casey. The only time we've seen her cry is for herself at her bond hearing (shown right). If killer parents do appear upset, you can tell the emotions are not sincere, but in this case Casey isn’t even faking concern. Her hateful phone calls from jail with friends and family highlight her selfishness. She never once during the 13-minute phone call expresses concern for her Caylee—only anger that she had been arrested.

One of us worked with a special F.B.I. task force in June involving a Texas dad who killed his two children but had reported them missing. The dad, Randy Sylvester, waited six hours to report the kids’ “abduction” to police. As Sylvester discussed his missing children, he was calm and matter-of-fact. He led investigators on wild goose chases to ponds and lakes.

After a week of lies, investigators got a somewhat controversial community activist—"Quanell X"—involved. He was able to get the suspect to lead investigators to the bodies. Some people might criticize investigators for bringing in a controversial figure. But we believe you do what it takes to find missing kids and prosecute the killer. When no one else could establish rapport with this father, the activist could. In Florida, the police need someone to help them establish rapport with Casey unless evidence solves the case.

Q: The latest pictures show Casey Anthony clubbing with friends one week after her daughter was “kidnapped.” What does that tell you?

A: This shows us the child was a burden to her and interfered with her lifestyle. When you see suspects enjoying life so soon after a tragedy, especially with a child missing, it almost always means they are guilty.

We worked a case in the early '90s where a father and two sons were killed in an upper-middle class suburb of Houston. The night of the murders, the “grieving” woman who lost her husband and sons was acting weird. She was drinking and cutting up with neighbors. Her behavior was not appropriate for someone who just lost her three immediate family members. A year later, the mother married her tennis coach. All evidence pointed to a murder-for-hire. Unfortunately, we never got the evidence to prosecute her. The woman later died of alcoholism. We believe her guilty conscience killed her.

Q: What should detectives look for?

A: Mistakes, slip-ups, telling inconsistencies. Many murderers are so vain and narcissistic they think they are smarter than everyone else. Most often, they make a mistake through physical evidence or something they said. We believe the investigators in Florida are carefully getting Casey Anthony’s friends to recount every word she said to them in recent months.

What her friends say about how Casey was acting while she was conducting “her own investigation” will be a major clue. She may have told a friend that her life would be a lot easier if she didn’t have a daughter. That would be compelling evidence to a jury. It’s part of the puzzle.

Q: What do you make of the 911 calls?

A: Those initial 911 calls to police by the grandmother are instructive about the family. Is the grandmother that naive? Her daughter (Casey) had lied to her for a month about her grandbaby Caylee, but during the first call, Grandma wants Casey arrested for stealing her car and her money? . . . Then Grandma frantically calls back and tells the dispatcher "it smells like there’s been a dead body in the damn car."

As homicide detectives, we have smelled hundreds of dead bodies. We can tell you that the smell of a dead body is unmistakable. Once you’ve smelled it, you know it’s not a decaying animal or "rotten pizza." Death's smell is unique and unforgettable.

Last year, our homicide squad solved a murder where a man confessed to killing his girlfriend and then barbecuing her body. Neighbors described his “barbecue” as the most foul odor they’ve ever smelled. Detectives found plenty of evidence that Tynesha Stewart, an intelligent 19-year-old freshman engineering student, had been mutilated in the house, dismembered. After all, you can’t barbecue bones.

As for the trunk of the car in the Anthony case, the sheriff’s spokesperson said in his first statements that forensics found a blood stain, dirt, and hair in the trunk consistent with the child's hair. The investigators are playing their cards close to the vest, as they should, and not releasing much information.

Q: What if investigators never find Caylee?

A: It’s not impossible to prosecute a case without a body, but sometimes it takes patience. We’ve done it successfully. In the case of beautiful 24-year-old Tracy Jo Shine, we never found her body because the killer cut it into pieces and destroyed it in barrels of acid. It was 1987, and we didn’t have the advanced DNA testing we have now. We confiscated the refrigerator that we believed the suspect used in some way. We later determined he used it to move the body before he dismembered it.

A decade later we reopened the case. DNA testing confirmed the victim’s DNA was on the back part of the refrigerator on the wiring harness. Her DNA was not found anywhere else in that refrigerator because the boyfriend-killer had cleaned it thoroughly except for that wire. The killer is sitting in prison today.

Q: What's it going to take to crack this case?

A: We are confident the detectives in Orlando will solve this case and determine what happened to Casey. If we were questioning Casey Anthony, we would try to keep her talking about anything. She’s defensive. She has been watching the news and she knows the nation believes she is guilty. A strong-arm approach with her would shut her down and make her more defensive.

The public might not understand this but we would approach Casey in a friendly, "we want to help you" manner. It takes incredible patience with lying suspects like Casey. The first thing you need to do in an interview is establish rapport. Confrontational methods rarely work. The key reason we’ve successfully secured so many confessions is extreme patience.

Often we say “We know you did it, but we know it was a mistake. We just need to know why.” If they curse and deny it, we must stay calm and friendly. A great homicide detective exercises extreme discipline and never loses his or her cool with the suspect. We’ve often stayed up straight for twenty-four hours questioning suspects we knew were guilty of murder.

Q: If Casey is not "extremely mentally ill" . . . could she still be a sociopath?

A: We’ve dealt with sociopaths. They don’t have any feelings for other people. Casey seems to have no conscience in her daughter’s situation. If Casey’s story were true, she should be feeling very guilty for leaving her daughter with a babysitter who would kidnap the child. A normal mother would blame herself for even a kidnapping. The public hasn't seen a morsel of guilt or remorse for supposedly leaving her child with the “kidnapper.”

Sociopaths are known for having an abundance of charm and wit. Casey was a cheerleader in high school (pictured left)—a social, outgoing girl. The pictures of her in the bar show her outgoing nature. Yet the photos also reveal she has no moral conscience for the well-being of her child.

A homicide detective always does a background on the family. Casey’s mother’s behavior alone sets off big warning bells (pictured below smiling and running from media after visiting daughter in jail last week). She goes onto news programs and thinks she can use the public’s airwaves how she sees fit. She shows arrogance and refuses to answer questions about her own daughter’s involvement.

We believe Casey is not a real mother. There are evil people out there and they do evil things—things that are unimaginable to most normal people. We believe the investigators will prove Casey Anthony is a beautiful, sociopathic monster.

Read more about the careers of Legendary Detectives Fikaris and Wedgeworth below in our Mystery Man column promo. Make sure to click on their Biographical Video.

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MYSTERY "MEN" - ON CRACKING CASEY ANTHONY

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Just who are these unmasked men? . . . No "mystery" in our Mystery Man feature this time. There's enough mystery surrounding the subject of this week's column: the disappearance of Florida tot Caylee Anthony. Detectives in the investigation are keeping mum, so we put our own team on the case. We just couldn't wait to run this piece on a story as timely as our guest contributors, two veteran homicide detectives, are timeless.

For our last Mystery Man, Women in Crime Ink was proud to feature a Houston homicide investigator. (You can still read that powerful piece here.) If Houston were at the center of the crime universe, the territory of tomorrow's guest contributors is the galaxy in which Space City resides: Harris County, the third largest county in the United States, and the nation's most deadly.

Detectives Roger Wedgeworth and Harry Fikaris are homicide legends with reputations for coaxing confessions and cracking cases together, as a team. In modern-day Texas, Wedgeworth and Fikaris are as inseparable and formidable at crime-solving as Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday were at settling injustices the Old West-way. In cold cases alone—the toughest crimes to solve—this duo put more than forty murderers and two serial killers behind bars. Those violent offenders had gone free until our Mystery Men took over each case and took the killers off the streets. WCI's Kelly Siegler wrote a story on one of their cases she prosecuted. Another murderer they caught was sadistic serial killer Danny Paul Bible, who killed three women and a baby and lived free for 20 long years—and roamed as many states—until Wedgeworth and Fikaris caught up with him in Louisiana and got him to admit to the slayings. Fellow detectives at the Harris County Sheriff's Office all agree that this pair can get almost anyone to confess.

Our guys have been profiled on A&E numerous times, Court TV, PEOPLE magazine, Texas Monthly, Discovery Channel, Biography Channel, Cold Case Files, and newspapers too numerous to name.

And our contributors are too legendary not to name, so we wasted no time in cluing you in on who we landed. Women in Crime Ink asked these major league homicide detectives to tell us what they think of jailed mom Casey Anthony. We hope you enjoy their insights into the Florida case that has gripped, baffled, and angered people across the nation. Watch our guys in action in the video clip below (narrated by WCI's Broadcast Journalist Cynthia Hunt!) and tomorrow read their thoughts on cracking Casey.

Video, picture, and Harris County Sheriff's Office Web site www.hcso.hctx.net courtesy of www.atgnat.com

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Homicide: A Career in Death

by Sgt. Eric Mehl

I stood in the hallway of a luxury hotel on the north side of Houston. It was late and I was tired. I carried with me an empty clipboard and I was wearing a ball cap emblazoned with the hotel logo. I knocked on the door directly in front of me.

In a loud and clear voice, I announced, “Engineering!”

I knew the man who would answer my knock had, several hours earlier, beaten an elderly woman to death with an ax. We had come to this particular hotel on a hunch that he might be there. An inquiry made at the front desk confirmed our suspicion. The dead woman was registered at the hotel. In fact, according to the hotel records, she had rented two rooms. After she had been murdered.

Hotel room doors can be difficult to breach. Any delay at the door could give the killer time to arm or barricade himself. Adding to the predicament was that the rooms rented by the killer were first-floor lobby rooms. Hotel patrons would be put at risk if we couldn’t take him quickly and quietly.

A plan was developed for him to open the door for us. The real hotel engineer cut off the electricity to the rooms the killer had rented. We waited for the suspect to call the front desk and lodge a complaint. He didn’t bother. So the front desk clerk called him and told him an “engineer” was on the way to restore the power in his rooms.

Now, standing at the door, I heard the privacy lock being disengaged from the inside. My heart began to pound in anticipation of what was to come. My right elbow rested against my .45 caliber pistol, holstered and hidden from view. It would be of little use this night.

The door swung open and there, standing in front of me, was the man who had taken an ax to an old lady. His size alone was daunting—he stood over six feet and weighed at least 220. Since he thought I was there to restore his electricity, he seemed genuinely happy to see me.

Trust me. In about one second he wouldn’t be quite so pleased.

I charged like an angry linebacker on steroids. At the point of impact, he let out a screech similar to a little girl's upon seeing her first spider. He crumbled when faced with someone comparable in size and strength. An old lady I’m not. It was over in seconds. The murderer was sitting on the floor in handcuffs and no one had been hurt. It was a successful execution of the arrest warrant.

Just Another Day at the Office

This is my world as a homicide detective. I have to admit, I’m addicted to the work.

Nobody enjoys a good murder mystery more than I do. The one where I’m standing among the carnage left in the wake of a fresh kill. Making those decisions in the first few critical hours that can mean the difference between bringing a killer to justice and knowing that he's out there unidentified. The stakes are high and the pressure is on. Moving quickly as the leads develop and staying with your case, regardless of fatigue, is mandatory. The work is dirty, demanding, challenging, and frustrating. I’m in my element. I can’t imagine having chosen a better profession.

I was a 28-year-old patrol sergeant when I was asked to apply to the Homicide Division of a large metropolitan police department. Now, more than twenty years later, with more than 500 homicide scenes behind me, I’m still there. I was warned early on not to stay too long.

“Promote out,” I was advised, “and become part of management.”

I didn’t heed the warning.

It might take only one murder case to cement your future. Mine came early in my homicide career. She was a 75-year-old woman who had been at home when she was beaten to death with a brick. Her name was Wilma. The force used against her was so tremendous that the brick broke in half. The killer then tied bound her by the neck, to a support column in her kitchen. Her legs were tied to the refrigerator door. After using her washing machine to clean the blood from his clothing, the killer stole most everything of value she owned. He had a thirty-six hour lead on me.

Two days later, I was in a small police department in Mississippi taking the murderer’s confession. He held nothing back:

There was some bricks on the side of the house and I grabbed one. . . . I walked inside. . . . She had her back to me at the kitchen table. . . . I raised my arm up and struck her on top of the head real hard. . . . She fell forward, toward the window, screaming for help. . . . I hit her so hard with the brick that it broke the brick. . . . She was laying on the ground in the kitchen and I picked up the broken piece of the brick and started pounding her with it. . . . She wasn't really moving at the time. . . . She was breathing a little bit. . . . I searched the area for a rope or something that I could tie around her neck and choke her with it.

Wilma’s murderer was buried with evidence. He had left his finger- and palm-prints at the murder scene. Bloody footprints on the kitchen floor had been made by the shoes he was wearing when he was arrested. I tracked down the stolen items he had pawned or otherwise sold. I had the ribbon of a typewriter found in his possession transcribed to prove it belonged to Wilma.

After both sides had rested their cases at trial, the defense lawyer reminded the jury that he had informed them, in his opening statement, that the evidence against his client would be, “overwhelming.”

It was—and I was hooked.

Priceless Benefits

People will often ask how I can endure the constant barrage of death and tragedy. I’m not sure it’s easily explained. In the end, it’s the murder victims themselves who keep me coming back for more. Especially the most vulnerable among us, the very young and the very old. Someone has to stand and speak for them since they can no longer speak for themselves.

The work can, at times, take a toll. I remember a two-year period when 1,288 people where murdered in Houston during 1990 and 1991. The scenes came so fast I found myself standing in the middle of the next homicide scene before I could complete the last one. Or the one before that.

There was a three-month period during that time that was especially troubling, at least for me. During those three months—April, May, and June—I stood over the bodies of seven murdered children. Six had been shot to death in two separate incidents. The seventh was a 4-year-old girl who had been raped and beaten to death with a tree limb. Her name was Monique. Her killer had left her in a wooded area. It took us five days in the Bayou City's merciless heat and humidity to find her.

Imagine the sight.

Secretly, I hoped people would stop killing children. It was not to be. A little boy named Datrick was beaten to death one night, by his father, because he refused to eat his spinach. He also dared to give his father, a preacher, an evil look. His father told us he refused to have such an undisciplined child. The preacher no longer has that concern.

Then there was Floyd. Floyd was two years old and must have done something incredibly terrible. I say this because his mother decided to punish him by placing him in a bathtub of scalding water. The injuries were textbook. She decided against medical treatment—Children’s Protective Services might take him away. It took Floyd ten days to die. Ten agonizing days.

When I arrived at that scene, Floyd’s mother and her boyfriend were sitting in their living room watching television. A patrol officer motioned me to a bedroom. There was nothing in the bedroom, except Floyd. He was lying on the floor against a wall. His skin, from the waist down, looked like pink, green, and yellow bubbling wax. Infection had set in. It was absolutely horrific. Floyd died in that bare bedroom all alone. I’m sure death was a relief—Floyd didn’t have to hurt anymore.

So there it is. Floyd, Monique, Datrick, Wilma, and the hundreds of other murder victims who came after them have kept me in Homicide for so many years. Though dead, they were provided with a voice and they were heard, albeit in a courtroom. Someone, whom they had never met, was there to say that what they endured was wrong and that the people who hurt them have to be held accountable.

Life After Death

My days as a policeman are now numbered. Death is cruel and plays no favorites. It visited my home twenty-one months ago. Seeing so much death in my life has numbed me to a certain extent. But nothing in my experience prepared me for having to tell my 7-year-old daughter that her mom would never again be coming home.

Today, I try to manage a homicide caseload along with the school and social schedule of my daughter, now nine. Time constraints prevent me from giving either the proper attention. People tell me I’m too young to retire. I disagree. My daughter has already lost her mother to heart disease. She won’t lose me to my job.

The big city police department can make you feel like you’re nothing more than an employee number and a seniority date. I will be easily replaced when I leave. My hope is that the young sergeant who replaces me and walks into the Homicide Division for the first time acquires a passion for the work. A passion I’ve carried with me for the past two decades.

Eric Mehl is a sergeant with the Homicide Division of the Houston Police Department, where he has worked for twenty-seven years. He was one of two detectives asked to form the Cold Case Unit, which he now heads. Sgt. Mehl lives in Houston with his daughter. Read more about his career here.

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Mystery Man - Clue Box

Time for our next Mystery Man. We hope you enjoyed the four-part series we featured over the Fourth of July holiday. Our next guest contributor is a big-city homicide detective from the Death Penalty capital of the nation: Houston, Texas. This investigator was one of two detectives selected to form the department's Cold Case Unit. Since his unit's expansion, he has been able to add detectives like WCI's Connie Park.

Twenty-seven years ago this summer, our Mystery Man joined the Houston Police Department. He was promoted to sergeant in the late 1980s, and has spent most of his career since then in the Homicide Division. When he joined HPD in 1981, the Murder Squad was dealing with the surge of violence of the late '70s, when the team of homicide investigators had more business than they could handle. On the two manual typewriters detectives used to take statements, the rollers only stopped moving for as long as it took for the next in line to sit and load a clean sheet of paper.

Investigators were typing statements on computers by the time this Mystery Man arrived. The most notorious statement he took was on videotape: the confession of Andrea Yates, who drowned her five children in 2001. Though it's difficult to imagine, one desperate parent murdering multiple children would not be the only quintuple homicide he investigated.

Ten years earlier, he stood over the bodies of four children and their father, a distraught man who murdered everyone because his wife had sued for divorce and asked the court to grant him sole custody of the children. What the detective remembered most was this: After purchasing a .45 semiautomatic, the father had driven the kids to K-Mart for new clothes and a Polaroid. At home, he took a photo of the children, wrote a note to his wife that the picture would be the last time she saw them, and fired a bullet into each child's head before ending his own life the same way.

Those mass murders are but two of the several hundred cases he's investigated. Somewhere in there, he met a Harris County prosecutor he wanted to share his life with, and together they had a beautiful daughter. Over the years, his cases have taken him all over the nation, though he's not one to boast. "My killers seldom run to the garden spots of the US," he said. "I've awakened in such places as Hackensack, New Jersey; Pascagoula, Mississippi; Bakersfield, California; and Monroe, Lousiana." Tomorrow, he'll share some of his memorable Houston cases. You shouldn't need any other clues to convince you that this Mystery Man is not to be missed. Check him out here tomorrow.

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