Read The Bundy Murders: A Comprehensive History Online
Authors: Kevin M. Sullivan
But Bundy was having a problem. He could never forthright confess, as Dr. Tanay had noted. Bundy was incensed over Minerva's firm conclusion that he was in fact guilty and could only escape execution by way of a deal. He just couldn't stand it. Yet it wasn't just Minerva who believed this; Millard Farmer thought so too, as did Farmer's representative, Joe Nursey, as well as every other member of the defense team. But could they convince Bundy before it was too late?
The deal was tested on May 30, 1979. The participants said later that while they had a verbal agreement from Bundy that he would take the deal being offered, they had to obtain his signature by this date. Mike Minerva was skeptical about whether his client would follow through on his promise to accept the offer. Despite the fact that Millard Farmer, whom Bundy genuinely liked and trusted, was spending a good deal of time trying to save his life; despite the fact that John Henry Brown, his attorney from Washington State was there to assist him in his decision; and despite the fact that his mother had journeyed from Washington to convince her son to accept the offer, and even that Carol Boone was by his side, deeply in love with him and wanting him to sign the agreement and thereby ensure their future, Ted Bundy didn't want to commit and was still unsure as to what to do. It took yet another round of coaxing from Millard Farmer before Bundy picked up the pen and signed the agreement which would save his life. However, as Minerva, Farmer and others finally left with the agreement in hand, Ed Harvey, also a member of the defense team, said he looked over at Bundy, who was shaking his head no."
The next morning, Thursday, May 31, 1979, all responsible parties began arriving in court to execute the best offer Ted Bundy was ever going to receive. The following is from the October 27, 1987, deposition of Michael Minerva:
JAMES COLEMAN: Can you tell us what happened on the morning of May thirtyfirst, 1979?
M.M.: Yes, sir. The defense lawyers met in the public defender's office, and I went over to court first, as I recall. And when I got there [I found that] Mr. Bundy had prepared a typewritten motion which he was distributing or about to distribute as court was about to start. And the content of the motion in effect was totally inconsistent with the entry of a plea because it was a request for other counsel or to fire us and, we should be removed as counsel. And when I got wind of what that was I asked for a recess so that I and the rest of the defense lawyers could talk to Mr. Bundy to see what his intentions were.12
Mike Minerva saw the proverbial hand writing on the wall. Once again, Millard Farmer cornered Bundy and told him how vital this was to save his life, and once again, the wrangling with the sociopath began. By the time they reentered the courtroom, Bundy had still not made up his mind, and it was Millard Farmer's opinion that it was but a "fifty-fifty chance that Ted would enter the plea, but we still didn't know.""
M.M.: So we went into the courtroom not knowing what was going to happen and the record will show what was said. I believe that I stood up and said Mr. Bundy has a matter to present to the court, and sat down, and-
J.C.: Let me ask you, when you made that representation to the court, did you have any idea what he would do?
M.M.: I did not know what he would do. He had not told me what he would do. So it was a surprise to me.
J.C.: And what happened?
M.M.: He offered his motion to relieve us as counsel and did not offer the plea.
J.C.: And as a consequence of that, what happened to the plea agreement?
M.M.: The prosecutors waited until he finished. When he had completed his motion attacking us and asking us to be released, then he sort of looked at me and sat down. We had a little whispered discussion - he seemed to want to enter a plea now that he'd gotten this off his chest - and the prosecutors down the table said no deal, it's off.
J.C.: Can you tell me, Mr. Minerva, what was the effect of Mr. Bundy's rejection of the plea agreement?
M.M.: Well, the effect of it then was to have the matter-both cases-go forward for trial. That was the meaning of that.
J.C.: Can you tell me what the effect of the plea agreement was on the defense lawyers?
M.M.: It took all the wind out of our sails, what little wind we had left. We had - we had become quite emotionally involved in the case. We were pretty well exhausted.14
While Minerva and all involved were exhausted, Theodore Bundy was as good as dead. There were literally thousands of hours of preparation ahead for the attorneys representing Bundy in his two upcoming trials, but it would not change the outcome, and Michael Minerva (who would step down as chief counsel to Bundy for legal reasons after that day), Millard Farmer, and everyone involved understood this. Theodore Bundy was now nothing more than a dead man walking. Just as he had murdered others, he had, however unwittingly, greatly assisted in his own death, and the only person in court that didn't understand this on that last day in May of 1979 was Bundy himself.
After a change of venue from Tallahassee to Miami, the Chi Omega trial began on July 23,1979, and was presided over by Judge Edward Cowart, fiftythree, whose down-home manner and colloquial use of the English language made him an instant hit with the world, and generated that same type of grandfatherly feeling that Senator Sam Ervin did during the Watergate hearings. Since he had years of experience as both a trial lawyer and a judge, the legal community of Florida believed the case couldn't be in better hands.
There would be surprises at this trial, such as when the disastrous conversations Bundy had had with Chapman, Bodiford and Patchen were disallowed by Judge Cowart because the tape recorder was not on during all of their conversations. Because the recording had been stopped and then restarted (usually at Bundy's request), and sometimes the secret recording devices failed to work properly leaving gaps in the interviews, the judge would not permit them to be entered into evidence. He explained that a complete recording of every session would have been allowed into evidence.
The prosecution also took another big hit when Cowart refused to allow as evidence the pantyhose mask provided by Detective Jerry Thompson who personally delivered it to Miami confiscated from Bundy's brown satchel during his August 1975 arrest. Apparently it had knots tied in it similar to knots in the one found at the Dunwoody apartment, but Cowart was not convinced, and would not allow it to be entered.
Perhaps Bundy inwardly congratulated himself for rejecting the state's offer of three life sentences at this time, but any inward delusions of victory in the case were premature indeed. Nita Neary, now living in Indiana, had absolutely no trouble identifying Ted Bundy from the witness stand as the man she saw hurrying down the Chi Omega steps, club in hand and heading out the front door. Despite repeated attempts by the defense to undermine her testimony or her ability to identify Bundy with so short a look that early morning of January 15, 1978, she held firm.
But the most damning piece of evidence the prosecution presented was the photograph of the bite mark on Lisa Levy's buttocks. Although attacked by the defense from every angle, the state's chief expert, Dr. Richard Souviron, presented strong and, to the jury, irrefutable evidence that only the teeth of Theodore Robert Bundy could have produced the bite. Indeed, it was the single thing which, if Souviron is to be believed, linked Bundy irrefutably to the assaults and murders at Chi Omega.
On July 23, to the surprise of Ted Bundy alone, the jury found him guilty of the murders of Lisa Levy and Marguerite Bowman, the assaults and attempted murders of Kathy Kleiner and Karen Chandler, and burglary of the dwelling. It was the result that Mike Minerva and Millard Farmer had warned him about over and over again, but to no avail.
The sentence was a forgone conclusion during the penalty phase of the trial, regardless of any further testimony or posturing from Bundy and his hamstrung team of exhausted and frustrated lawyers.
No one knows what Bundy was thinking as he stood before Judge Cowart for the reading of the sentence. But it is clear that even then, having been convicted of the Chi Omega murders, he believed he should still proclaim his innocence. In a rambling, and somewhat tearful statement to the court, Bundy again played the part of the wrongly accused, a victim who would suffer the sentence somebody else deserved. "I find it somewhat absurd to ask for mercy for something I did not do," he told Judge Cowart as the two men stared at one another, "so I will be tortured for, and suffer for, and receive the pain for the act. But I will not share the burden of the guilt."" And with that Bundy became silent. Judge Edward Cowart then proceeded to sentence Ted Bundy to death by, as he said, "a current of electricity sufficient to cause your immediate death."" And then the judge launched into a personal reflection that would have, under different circumstances, pleased the nowcondemned former law student:
Take care of yourself, young man. Take care of yourself. I say that to you sincerely. It's a tragedy to this court to see such a total waste of humanity. You're a bright young man. You'd have made a good lawyer. And I'd have loved to have you practice in front of me. I bear you no animosity, believe me. But you went the other way, partner. Take care of yourself."
Theodore Bundy had taken his first real step towards the electric chair. The long and arduous appeals process would now begin, but in the end would only delay the inevitable.
Meanwhile, Ted Bundy would prepare for his next battle with the State of Florida, as it prepared to try him for the murder of Kimberly Leach. Round two would begin in January, and due to a change of venue (there were in fact two changes), the trial would be held in Orlando, a fact that was not appreciated by the heads at Disney World. It seems that having Ted Bundy so close to a family-oriented theme park was detrimental to business. But the trial of Ted Bundy remained in Orlando.
Bundy, who had strutted in front of the cameras as his own attorney for most of the trial in Miami, would play no such part this time. Only during the penalty phase would he once again (and for the last time) act as his own attorney. Judge Wallace Jopling appointed the very able Victor Africano to defend him, and for the most part, Bundy would allow him and his team to do their work, although Africano believed there was little possibility of avoid ing yet another death sentence, since almost everyone in Florida knew the name Theodore Bundy. The state would be represented by Bob Deckle, who would do a thorough job convicting Ted Bundy for the murder of Kimberly Leach.
Just as his previous attorneys were exhausted by the ordeal of defending him, so too, Bundy was both weary and dreading what awaited him in Orlando. He had Carol and her son Jaime nearby, but despite his continued denials of guilt, he must have felt that the end result of this second fight would be exactly like the first. There would be moments of defiance in this trial, to be sure, but overall, silent resignation would be the mainstay of his demeanor.
The trial began on January 7, 1980. It had been six years to the month since Ted Bundy had stepped out of his fantasy world and planted his feet firmly in the world of murder. In that time he had killed many innocent young women and girls, and destroyed the lives of literally hundreds of people who loved them. He had made average people afraid, many in ways that were new to them, and he had single-handedly changed the course and tempo of the lives of the investigators and their departments in the various states charged with apprehending him. Just as January 1974 marked the beginning of his diabolical journey, January 1980 marked the end.
Just as in the Chi Omega trial, the confessions of Bundy to detectives Chapman, Patchen and Bodiford would not be allowed. Even so, what the state had to present was so detrimental to his client, Vic Africano simply couldn't counter it. Leslie Parmenter positively identified Theodore Bundy as the man driving the white van who attempted to abduct her. Her brother Danny had scribbled down the license plate number, which turned out to be the same license plate confiscated by Deputy Dawes, who also positively identified Bundy as the person who handed him the plate, and who ran away from him as he was radioing the information from his patrol car. The stolen credit cards Bundy had when he was apprehended in Pensacola placed him in Jacksonville and Lake City, Florida, on the appropriate dates, and he was positively identified by the clerks and dinner and bar staff at the Lake City Holiday Inn as having stayed there on Wednesday, February 8, the night before Kimberly Leach disappeared. They confirmed that Bundy checked out that morning. The Holiday Inn was less than two miles from Leach's school.
He was positively identified by C. L. "Andy" Anderson, who said he witnessed the abduction, but believed it was nothing more than a father angry with his little girl who was taking her home. Africano did his best to discredit Anderson because of the former firefighter's decision to wait six months before telling authorities about the incident, and the fact that the prosecution had used hypnosis on him on two occasions which, Africano believed, influenced Anderson, and in essence corrupted his testimony. But this too was of no avail.
Yet the final, and perhaps the greatest nail in the coffin was the fiber evidence obtained from the white van. According to the fiber analysis expert for the state, Mary Lynn Hinson, the particular chemical makeup of the fibers of the carpet in the media van were found in the clothes of Kimberly Leach, and the fibers of her clothes and of her purse were intertwined with the fibers in the van's carpet. Additionally, fibers similar to those used in the coat Bundy wore when he sported the fireman's badge on the day he tried to snatch Leslie Parmenter were found in Leach's clothing, as were fibers consistent with a shirt owned by him.
It was overwhelming evidence, and the jury acted accordingly. On February 6, 1980, Theodore Robert Bundy would be found guilty of the murder of twelve-year-old Kim Leach. It was, to all observers, a foregone conclusion, and the trial a mere formality. The curtain could come down on the life of America's most infamous serial killer. True, there would be years of appeals ahead of him, but there was little doubt of the outcome. Ted Bundy would die in Florida's electric chair, just as Mike Minerva and Millard Farmer had declared he would.