There was also mention of a former boyfriend of Pamela’s who had been trying to get back together with her in recent months, but Horowitz expressed doubt about the man’s involvement in his wife’s death. “I just think he knows what he missed out on,” the lawyer told a reporter for a local newspaper. “But to think of him as a suspect would be a grave injustice.”
On Monday, October 17, Dan Horowitz was at home making funeral arrangements when Judge Laurel Brady, at the request of Susan’s other attorney, Ivan Golde, dismissed the Polk jury and declared a mistrial in the case. Brady cited extensive media coverage of Pamela Vitale’s murder as grounds for her decision.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it would be hard to miss, despite my admonitions,” the judge told jurors over the sobs of Susan Polk. “I have reached the conclusion at this juncture that it is not possible to continue the trial.”
Brady ordered all parties back to court on December 2 to set a new trial date, but no one—including Dan Horowitz—knew if he could put aside the turmoil in his own life and represent Susan. Horowitz acknowledged his own uncertainty in an interview with the local daily, the Contra Costa Times. “I don’t know,” he told the newspaper when asked about representing Susan Polk. “I don’t know if I’m alive. I don’t know if I’m in hell.”
Outside the courtroom, Horowitz’s cocounsel, Ivan Golde, pointed to “a whole host of conflicts” that could arise since the same police agency that investigated Felix Polk’s murder was now looking into the death of Dan’s wife.
“You’ve got the same pathologist doing both investigations,” Golde told journalists gathered at the courthouse that Monday. “This creates a huge conflict. I don’t even know if we can try both cases now in Contra Costa County. We were doing well in there,” Golde said optimistically of their first week in court. “We were winning this case. I hope we can pick up where we left off.”
Still, members of the Polk jury said they did not hear enough of the case to form an opinion as to Susan’s guilt or innocence. “The prosecution was the only one who had the chance to present information,” said juror Mark Zigler of Concord. “There was not any reason to dismiss anything.”
Pamela Vitale had been seated in the front row of the courtroom on October 11, when her husband delivered his opening remarks in the high-profile Polk murder case. Now, just seven days later, her battered corpse lay on a gurney in the coroner’s office, awaiting an autopsy by Brian Peterson, the pathologist who performed the autopsy on Felix. Horowitz was not pleased to learn that Peterson was going to conduct the post mortem examination of his wife, since he had intended to dispute several of his findings at trial.
It was just after 10 AM on October 17 when the medical examiner removed a large gold and diamond ring from Pamela Vitale’s left ring finger, and a gold band with a dark-colored stone and multiple clear stones from her right ring finger. After placing the items in the office for safekeeping, Dr. Peterson began the two-and-a-half-hour post mortem examination on Vitale.
In his official report, Peterson listed the cause of death as “blunt force head injury.” Pamela Vitale had sustained at least twenty-six crushing blows to the head and thirteen more to other parts of her face and body. “There are extensive scalp lacerations and abrasions,” Dr. Peterson recorded. “On the right side of the scalp, at least 8 distinct injuries are identified…”
An examination of the victim’s torso revealed a post-mortem four-inch stab wound to the left upper abdomen that had perforated the stomach, exposing the intestines. There was also “an H-shaped figure” carved into the skin of the “posterior torso area.” Scratch marks on Vitale’s breasts, arms, legs, and body indicated she had fought very hard for her life that morning. There were no signs of sexual assault. Still, a rape test was performed with negative results.
That Monday afternoon, police released an affidavit revealing that Pamela Vitale was not only bludgeoned but also savagely stabbed by a killer who wore gloves. In addition, crime scene investigators had located a “large-sized blood shoeprint” on the cover of a storage container found at the crime scene.
Two days after the autopsy, police made an arrest in Pamela’s murder. Surprising to some, the accused seemed to have no connection to the Polk case. The alleged killer was a sixteen-year-old boy named Scott Dyleski who lived with his mother and two families—eleven people in all—in a ramshackle house about one mile from Dan and Pamela on Hunsaker Canyon Road. Investigators linked Dyleski to a scheme with another youth to buy equipment for growing marijuana with stolen credit cards. The fraudulently obtained equipment was to be shipped to Dyleski’s address but listed Vitale’s home as the billing address. Homicide detectives speculated that Dyleski had gotten into a confrontation with Vitale when he went to her house thinking the package may have been accidentally delivered there.
Homicide detectives zeroed in on the teen just two days into their investigation after receiving a tip from a neighbor claiming that someone had obtained a credit card under his name and used it to purchase equipment often used to grow marijuana. In recent months, several of Vitale’s neighbors on Hunsaker Canyon Road had reported mail being stolen from a common mailbox area along the road at the base of a hill. An investigation into the thefts had yielded no suspects until one resident, Doug Schneider, reported that Horowitz’s remote hilltop address was provided as the shipping address for the hydroponics equipment that had been charged to his credit card on October 12.
Police got a second break on October 19 when a youth came forward to confess to a marijuana-growing scheme with his former classmate, Scott Dyleski. The youth, Robin Croen, told police they had been using fraudulently obtained credit cards to purchase the hydroponics lights used for growing marijuana. Croen, a student at Acalanes High School in Lafayette, told police that he and Dyleski, a classmate, intended to grow the plants in Dyleski’s closet.
According to Croen, the night before the murder Dyleski claimed that “there was some sort of problem with the orders” and assured him that he “just needed some more time to do something.” Police later learned that Dyleski and Croen, who was not implicated in the murder, allegedly conspired together in the mail thefts—including the one that lead to Vitale’s death.
Croen also told police that Dyleski had scratches on his face when he saw him on October 15—the day of the murder. Three days later, Dyleski showed up at Acalanes High School during lunch period and announced that he was going to tell his housemates about the credit card scam. “He said he was going to admit it because somehow this would separate him from the [Vitale] murder,” Croen told authorities. The comment concerned Croen, who could not understand how their credit card scheme could be linked to the woman’s murder. He asked Dyleski what he was talking about, and Dyleski “said he was afraid his DNA was on her because she had grabbed him at some point (while he was walking in the woods). I asked how or why, but I didn’t get an answer,” the youth told police.
Police subsequently alleged that Dyleski went to Vitale’s home that Saturday, October 15, to pick up the marijuana-growing equipment he ordered, but the package was not in the mailbox. Investigators suspected that Dyleski went inside the trailer to find out what happened to it, where he confronted Pamela Vitale and beat her to death. Dyleski had no way of knowing that the hydroponics equipment had never been shipped because the supplier suspected that something was amiss.
According to detectives, the gangly 5′5″, 110-pound teenager was wearing gloves and a Balaclava mask (a mask which covers the entire face, with slits only for the eyes) when he entered the trailer home. Evidence collected at the scene indicated that he struck Vitale more than thirty times about the face and body with a broken piece of crown molding and other items before carving a “gothic signature” in the shape of an “H” into the small of her back.
After the murder, Scott Dyleski allegedly poured himself a glass of water, rinsed his hands in the sink and had a shower: a forensic examination of the bathroom faucets revealed traces of blood. Appa
rently unconcerned about the blood-stained crown molding he left, the teen used a little-traveled trail through the woods, arriving home sometime between 10:20 and 11:00 that morning. Croen wasn’t the only one who noticed Dyleski’s injuries that day. Several of his housemates later told police that they observed a gash on the boy’s face that morning. When asked about the wound, Scott claimed he scratched himself during a morning hike in the woods.
A forensic examination of Vitale’s laptop showed Pamela was on her computer, surfing the Internet for various things, including Court TV’s website, for articles about Dan’s criminal representation of Susan Polk, when Dyleski entered the trailer that Saturday morning. Logs show that at 10:12 AM her computer searches ceased.
On the evening of Wednesday, October 19, investigators served two search warrants on the home of Dyleski’s mother, Esther Fielding, “looking for any type of murder weapon that would cause blunt-force trauma or other injury.” Posters covered nearly every inch of wall space in Scott’s bedroom. Amid the clutter were drawings of symbols similar to the H-shape found carved into Vitale’s back. Three computers were seized by investigators, along with several knives, bedding, and other items. In a van behind the house, police found a duffel bag with Dyleski’s nametag. Inside, they found bloody clothes, shoes, and a ski mask that later tested positive for DNA from both Dyleski and Vitale.
The following morning, as friends and family were saying a final good-bye to Pamela at her funeral, her alleged killer was arrested and held in lieu of $1 million bail.
Six days after the killing, on October 21, the teen was brought before a Superior Court judge and charged with first degree murder as an adult. Handcuffs encircled his bony wrists, and strands of dark, wavy hair covered much of his angular face as he was led into the courtroom. Dyleski said nothing during the brief court appearance.
Details of his brief and troubled life would emerge in the days and weeks ahead. Interviews with schoolmates painted the teen as a loner who was mercilessly teased about the way he dressed by his classmates at Lafayette’s Acalanes High School. Friends said that Dyleski endured endless taunts for being “nerdy” while growing up in the small, rural town as a Boy Scout, a basketball player, and a good student in elementary school.
But something inside Scott seemed to die in 2001 when his eighteen-year-old half sister, Denika, was killed in a car crash. The once easygoing student suddenly began shaving parts of his head, wearing dark eyeliner and black nail polish and dying his brown hair jet black. He began dressing all in black accessorized by heavy silver jewelry and a long black trench coat like the one worn by rocker Marilyn Manson, the self-proclaimed “Anti-Christ Superstar” whose stage name merged that of Marilyn Monroe and Charles Manson.
One former classmate told the San Francisco Chronicle he believed Scott was trying to be noticed with his strange appearance and clothing. “I always thought he was trying to get attention,” Kevin McDonald said of Dyleski. “But he seemed like a nice guy, not someone who would ever do something like this.”
Dyleski had been reportedly studying hard for his GED, desperate to escape Acalanes High School and the teasing he endured. He was taking art classes at Mt. Diablo College in Pleasant Hill, the same junior college that Susan Polk had attended as a teenager, and had submitted some of his dark, imagery-driven art for grades. He was to celebrate his eighteenth birthday two weeks after the murder.
On January 12, 2006, Susan stood before Judge Laurel Brady and asked that she be allowed to fire Horowitz and Golde, her fourth attorneys, and represent herself in the murder trial. While the lawyers knew beforehand that she wanted them removed, Susan’s action both surprised and disappointed them, after having invested so much into the high-profile case.
Interestingly, her decision to replace them seemed to have little to do with Horowitz’s personal tragedy. As most lawyers who worked with Susan discovered, representing her was something of a roller-coaster ride. Just two weeks prior to her announcement, she had expressed concern for Horowitz’s well-being and seemed happy to have him as her attorney, but soon something soured her on his representation.
In the weeks leading up to the trial, Susan had made many calls to Horowitz’s office with countless requests. Horowitz assigned Valerie Harris to handle the multitude of Susan’s needs, but as time went on, that arrangement backfired. Susan began complaining about what she perceived as Dan’s lack of attention to her case and accused him of failing to file legal motions on her behalf. Once she felt neglected, it was not long before she notified Horowitz that his services were no longer needed.
“She has a right to an attorney of her choice,” Horowitz told reporters outside the courtroom. “But the judge may not let me out because we’re so close to trial. I feel sorry for her [Susan]. What can I say? Going through Pamela’s death was a horrible experience. It’s not deliberate. She’s not really trying to hurt me. She’s desperate and scared.”
During the ninety-minute hearing before Judge Brady, Susan claimed that Horowitz had all but ignored her case since his wife was murdered. Though Horowitz had already filed some forty motions with the court, Susan still wasn’t happy, claiming he had failed to file others for her. Despite the severity of the charges, Susan believed that she could represent herself in court. She asked that Harris, with whom Susan had formed a strong bond, be permitted to remain on her case as a consultant.
In addition to her complaints about Horowitz, Susan also filed a lengthy declaration on January 12 in which she outlined several grievances she had with the judge and police department. Among other things, Susan complained that Horowitz had failed to file her motion to disqualify Judge Brady and the entire Contra Costa County judiciary because they were all prejudiced against her. She also claimed that she had been subjected to discriminatory treatment by law enforcement since she had unsuccessfully moved to have Judge Brady removed from the case in August—including being “the only female prisoner” to be transported in shackles.
Susan also claimed that Dan Horowitz was a suspect in the murder of his wife. Later, she told reporters that she believed that Horowitz may have been involved in Pamela’s murder “based on statements he made to me.” She even offered to testify on behalf of the murder suspect, Scott Dyleski, at his upcoming pretrial hearing. Though Horowitz declined to respond publicly to Susan’s allegations, in part because a gag order had been issued, it was clear that he was infuriated by her remarks.
Not surprisingly, Judge Brady denied Susan’s motion to have the entire judiciary of Contra Costa County removed at a hearing on January 20, but she granted Susan’s request to dismiss Horowitz. The judge set a new trial date for February 27, giving Susan six weeks to prepare her defense.
“It is Susan’s story,” a visibly pale Dan Horowitz said while waiting in the hallway of the courthouse after the hearing. “She lived it and she wants to tell it. She has the absolute right to present her own defense.”
Ivan Golde chose to phrase it a bit differently: “It’s a very sad day,” he said.
Chapter Twenty-three
GOING IT ALONE
On February 27, 2006, three hundred prospective jurors arrived at the Contra Costa County Courthouse in Martinez to begin jury selection in the murder trial of Susan Polk.
Surprisingly, Polk’s original prosecutor, Tom O’Connor, had announced his resignation from the D.A.’s office just one week earlier to take a job in the private sector. A senior prosecutor, Paul Sequeira, was immediately assigned to take his place. Though new to the case, Sequeira told the media that he was rapidly getting up to speed and regarded the case as fairly straightforward.
With no lawyer by her side, Susan was relying on Valerie Harris and had a jury consultant to help with the selection process. Prospective jurors arriving at the courthouse were first directed to an assembly room where Judge Brady informed them about Susan’s decision to represent herself. She asked jurors if they could fairly adjudicate the case under that scenario. Those who expressed doubts were immedia
tely excused. The others were directed to the courtroom where Susan and Paul Sequeria would conduct their questioning.
As jury selection began, Susan seemed in control of her defense. Her questions were measured and appropriate, although in some instances she revealed too much about the specifics of her case and was admonished by the judge to restrict her comments. Soft-spoken and articulate, Susan’s demeanor was more of a schoolteacher than a murder defendant. She showed up for court each morning in well-tailored outfits, gold-rimmed designer glasses—and a uniformed court officer on each arm. Though she appeared self-assured at the start, it wasn’t long before it became clear that she was very nervous about her case and somewhat uncertain about how to proceed.
Late in the afternoon, Susan erupted into tears after a potential juror voiced alarm over the possible length of the trial, estimated at over two months, and Susan’s decision to serve as her own attorney—or to go pro per.
“I feel this is my one chance,” Susan defended, wiping tears from her cheeks. “I’m taking a calculated risk, and I realize all of you have things you’d rather do.”
In the courtroom, Susan was timid one minute and more like an articulate, thoughtful law student the next. She could be confident, emphatically arguing legal points with the judge and citing information from a law book. Other times, however, she was apologetic and ill at ease. She grew visibly upset one afternoon when she misplaced one of her documents. After Susan spent several anxious minutes rifling through the stack of papers on the defense table, she finally gave up in exasperation and carried on from memory.
By the end of the second day, Susan had dismissed eight prospective jurors while the prosecutor had dismissed six through the preemptory challenge process. Susan’s questioning made it clear that she was most anxious to have a juror who could be objective in adjudicating a case in which a defendant was acting as her own attorney.
Final Analysis Page 24