I'd Kill for You

by M. William Phelps

  Kyle once said to me, “There’s a monumental amount of trust being placed on you that you are on the level and are going to portray me as you say you are going to portray me.”

  What I told Kyle from the first moment we started talking was that I would tell his story as he told it to me, reflect back on the record to match it up where I could, and allow others to say what they needed to say. I also told Kyle that I sympathized with him. I know he is, was, and always will be mentally ill. He was in a terrible state of psychosis when he committed this crime. He has gotten help. He did sound somewhat stable at times when we spoke (but not all the time). I’m not saying Kyle is innocent or that I’d like to see Kyle move in next door or be out on the street—far from it. But I know that mental illness in this country needs a total postmortem. We need to look at it closely and, for crying out loud, do something. What I am grateful for is that Kyle Hulbert did not manifest his anger and violent thoughts and twist them into some sort of hatred toward society where he would walk into a school and shoot it up.

  I then asked him about certain parts of this story that made me think Kyle knew a bit more about what he was going to do than he might have let on.

  “As far as trying to get my sword sharpened the day before I murdered Dr. Schwartz,” Kyle said, “it was a matter of convenience. We were going to the mall. I bought the sword there. I wanted it sharpened. I know how it looks, but it was nothing more than that.”

  It’s likely Kyle doesn’t recall the mind he was in back then, some twelve years before I interviewed him. He very well could have gotten his sword sharpened because he was set on murdering Schwartz and wanted to make sure he killed him with a sharp weapon. It fits.

  “I honestly think,” Kyle told me, “that Katie did know what Clara was doing with me. She grew up with Clara. It would not surprise me in the least to find out that Katie knew what was going to happen because Clara told her she was going to use me. Katie threw Mike under the bus to get out of it all, herself.”

  There were times when I spoke to Kyle and I heard a man (now in his thirties) locked in prison, allowing the time to do him, not the other way around. As most inmates will say, “When you’re down for life, you have to take things one day at a time.” Kyle would say, “Mind-numbingly boring. That’s the toughest part. There’s nothing to do in here. A lot of stagnation.”

  As far back as he could remember, Kyle had wanted to be a writer. He cannot type in prison, however. So he would write out things he wanted typed and send it to people (prison groupies, friends, anyone willing) on the outside so they could type it for him. Lots of times it never materialized into anything.

  “Comes a point when I have to say, ‘Universe, I am listening, you don’t want me to do this.’ Einstein described insanity as doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.”

  I told Kyle that Bill Wilson, who founded Alcoholics Anonymous (AA), used that same saying as a core principle for his program of recovery.

  “Well, they got it from Einstein.”

  Writing is the only “constant” in his life, Kyle said.

  “Sucks that I can’t get anything done with it.”

  CLOSING REMARKS

  AN INNOCENT MAN lost his life in a very violent manner. A man, it needs to be noted, who could have gone on to make greater discoveries in science than he had made already. The world lost a brilliant scientist. I have no doubt about that. It’s appalling to me that a group of teens decided that their dreary, drab, and shitty lives were more important than his. These kids believed they were entitled to bigger and better things because they were “different.” The world owed them something. No one understood who they were on the inside.

  Boo-hoo-hoo.

  It’s all hogwash. I’ve heard the goth sob story before, one too many times. “Society doesn’t understand me. I’m different.” Yeah, yeah, yeah. We get it. Now get over it and lead a productive life. I did everything I could not to inject my own feelings about Kyle Hulbert into this book, only because I believe that mentally ill people should not be branded “psychopaths” and/or “sociopaths.” They suffer from real disorders and, in this case, true paranoid delusions and do not need the likes of crime experts and television talking heads (like myself!) bantering about them. On top of that, we don’t take care of the mentally ill as we should in this country. We continue to do nothing but close mental hospitals and cut “patients” loose before they’re ready for society on their own. How many more images will it take of kids being led out of schools with their hands in the air, parents running toward fire trucks and police cruisers, doubling over in gut-wrenching emotional pain, and headlines of more death by the hand of a mentally ill person on a rampage with a gun? If we haven’t done anything now—suffice it to say after those horrifying images from Newtown—we are not going to do anything.

  All that being said (as I step down off my soapbox), I wanted some final thoughts from Kyle within that theme. Mostly, though, I wanted to know if Kyle was sorry, regretful, and, most of all, remorseful for what he did to Dr. Schwartz. I’ve interviewed a lot of killers—none like Kyle Hulbert. I was curious what he thought about himself, Dr. Schwartz, Clara, and the rest of this case.

  “Dr. Schwartz should not have died,” Kyle explained during a final call between us. “He did not deserve that. It’s tragic in a way that can never be described.” He stopped talking. Thought about what to say next. Then he offered his own version of justification, adding, “Because, had Schwartz been molesting her, had he been doing the things Clara claimed ... yet, all indications, all evidence I have, say he was not doing those things. . . .” He stopped there. Concluding the thought with: “And that’s a burden I am never going to escape.”

  To me, Kyle stopped just short of saying that had Schwartz been proven to be molesting his daughter, he should have been killed. The act of him committing a crime against his daughter would have justified those thirty stab wounds.

  Kyle had done some writing and it was posted by a friend on the Internet. He got lots of hate mail, he said. I asked about his response to the hate mail.

  “I wish I could tell them all, if I was let out today, I’d still be paying for what I did.”

  He said the pain and guilt of the murder he puts himself through is far worse a punishment than any court could ever dole out. He has lived with the guilt of the murder every day.

  To the Schwartz family, Kyle said, “‘I’m sorry’ doesn’t even begin to cut it. I don’t think there is anything I have a right to say to them. I took their father, their brother, their uncle, away from them. I did that. Regardless of the manipulation and how Clara set this up, I did it.... The only thing I would hope for is that they understand how sorry I am. . . .”

  Kyle said he “wishes” he never met Clara.

  I asked Kyle to ponder a hypothetical: Had he never met Clara, let’s say, did he think he would have committed a violent act, such as murder? My thought was that Kyle, newly released from being a ward of the state, was on a fast track toward a violent ending. He was destined to commit some sort of violent crime based on his behaviors when out of state custody.

  “It’s possible,” he said. “It’s quite possible and, according to some people, it was likely.”

  Then I asked if he considered himself in the same category as those who walk into schools and shoot innocent kids. Was this something Kyle believed he was capable of? I added how, if we are to believe what Kyle claimed (that he shouldn’t have been emancipated and should have been monitored), then we have scores of similar people walking out of courtrooms and into society, thus creating the opportunity for these mass shootings at schools to continue.

  “While I understand mental illness, even with my understanding I find it hard to grasp how a person can justify in their minds these mass shootings.”

  What if Nicodemus and the other voices had repeatedly told him, I asked, to walk into a classroom and shoot it up—what would he have done then? Over and over, I said, there th
ey were, in his head, telling him to walk into a school with an arsenal of weapons and fire.

  “What would you have done, Kyle?”

  “Once your perception of reality alters to the point where you cannot distinguish what’s really happening,” Kyle said stoically, “it’s a very dangerous place.”

  I took that as a “yes.”

  Had Kyle considered himself at that breaking point (we’ll call it) when he was released into society from the state?

  “Depends on who you ask,” he said. “When I’m off my medication, my world gets very, very, very, very dark—and very dangerous for me.”

  Kyle then broke into a long monologue about the dark side of foster care and how the world treats the unwanted, concluding, “Do you have any idea how different my life would have been that, instead of putting me on medication, someone sat me down and just spent some time with me?”

  It sounded trite. So much like the perfect thing to say now, after the fact.

  “Isolated,” he said of the mentally ill. “We feel so alone. Nobody takes the time to understand.” He then said the “Columbine kids” were a good example of what he meant. He was referring to the shooters, not the victims. “These kids went to the adults and said, ‘Look what is happening to me.’ Nobody listened. While I don’t agree with what they did and would never condone it, I do understand their mind-set.... They felt they had no choice.”

  Many would argue with that statement—including myself.

  I moved on to Clara. I wanted to know what he would say to her now.

  The line went silent. For quite some time. Then: “I don’t know that I would say anything.” But in true Kyle Hulbert fashion, he could not leave it there. He added: “I don’t think I can trust myself to speak to her. Knowing what I know now, I don’t think I could trust myself ever being around her. She is the cause of a lot of people’s misery. She ruined the lives of a great many people. I’d have nothing to say. If I could make her feel the things that she’s put everyone else through, I’d like to do that.”

  Kyle wanted to tell Mike, “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve any of this. Aside from Dr. Schwartz and the family, Mike was blameless. And he is a victim, just as much as anybody in this. He didn’t know. He had no fucking idea what was going on.... He gave me a ride because I asked him to. He is only in prison because that harpy Katie . . . [needed] to save her own skin.”

  Within every convicted murderer I have ever spoken to is the strong, inherent belief that he or she will one day be awarded a new trial, or some sort of miracle lawyer will fall out of the sky and get the inmate released for some reason other than why he or she has been incarcerated. I asked Kyle about this, thinking that his aim would be to fight for a life in a mental hospital. As we spoke, Kyle’s lawyers had just finished writing his habeas corpus argument. A habeas is a petition, essentially, to the court, asking that the detained person—inmate—be brought back into a courtroom for a hearing on whether his or her incarceration or detainment is lawful. One legal definition describes a habeas this way: The writ of habeas corpus serves as an important check on the manner in which state courts pay respect to federal constitutional rights.

  “If the judge accepts our argument, it starts over,” Kyle explained.

  “What is that argument?” I wondered.

  “Ineffective assistance with counsel. My court-appointed attorney never pursued an NGRI (not guilty by reason of insanity).”

  Seems to me Kyle has a good point here. He should have brought his case to trial and pled not guilty. Those types of defenses are long shots, sure; but Kyle had a chance at being found not guilty by reason of insanity simply based on his past history. No one can deny that. I, personally, would have liked to see what a jury thought of that case.

  Without being asked, Kyle then began a long narrative detailing his mental-health history (of which I had heard and read many times already), adding how documented that history is. He talked, on and on, about how his mental illness had stopped him from doing anything he had ever tried to do in life. He talked about how his records proved that throughout his life doctors and psychologists have evaluated him and made the claim that he was a “very suicidal boy with ... thoughts of homicide and suicide,” quoting from his psych evaluations. He was spot-on with his analysis—there were plenty of quotes in the thousands of pages of psych reports I had read to back up what he was saying.

  My final question: “What is it that you hope will come from your habeas?”

  “‘Hope’?” Kyle said right off. “A chance for freedom. A chance for a life.”

  “When you say ‘free,’” I countered, “what do you mean by ‘free’—or ‘freedom’?” I was confused. Did he mean free from the chains of guilt? From being found guilty of first-degree murder? Free from the corrections system? What was he saying?

  “Free!” he said, clarifying. “Look, I am sure there’ll be some time for me spent in a psychiatric facility.” (You think?) “But I have geared the last twelve years of my life toward rehabilitation—toward being able to be a member of society. But if the best-case scenario is that I get out and have to remain in outpatient therapy ... with some sort of psychiatry, well, okay ... but then maybe, well, if not, the next best thing is removal from DOC (Department of Corrections) and placed in ment (a mental facility). And there, eventually, they would see where I am ready for society and I am able to have a life.”

  He saw himself on the outside with friends. He saw himself leading a “normal” life. He saw himself working and socializing and being a productive member of society. He saw himself putting the first thirty years of his life behind him and starting over.

  But he murdered a man. He had admitted it. He had pled guilty to it.

  “You have to understand,” Kyle then added, “it’s something I have never had—an actual chance at a life. Like someone saying, ‘Here, you’re on an even playing field. Let’s see what you can do with it.’ I’ve never had that. The deck has been stacked [against] me since day one, and I have had to make shit hand after shit hand work. And I have been doing that for thirty ... fucking . . . years.”

  SHOULD WE LISTEN to Kyle’s concerns, his dreams, his ideas, and take him seriously? Or should we allow Kyle to fade into the obscurity and dust of the prison system? I have asked myself this question many times while getting to know him. Speaking for myself, I think Kyle is mentally incapable of understanding the totality of what he has done. He butchered a man. For no reason. Then comes back and claims he’s never had a chance at a real life. Well, he did, actually, when he was released from being a ward of the state. That was Kyle’s chance. He blew it. When you stab a man to death, you don’t get a do-over.

  On the other hand, I don’t think Kyle understood the sum of his actions before he committed this crime. I also feel he was manipulated by Clara far more than we will ever know. Then there’s a part of me that thinks maybe Kyle and Clara entered into this together and believed they could get away with it because of Kyle’s mental history. So, as is often the case in these types of crimes, I am conflicted.

  One thing I know for sure: Kyle Hulbert should be locked up somewhere and never be released—ever. It is my belief that he would hurt someone again. I feel that the cycle for him would begin the moment he was released back into society.

  THANKS

  I WOULD LIKE to extend immense gratitude and my biggest appreciation to my readers. You continue to support my work and I am humbled by your presence every time a new book is published. I am, as always, at a loss for words when trying to say “thank you,” because nothing I can say is, in my opinion, enough. You are the most important part of my work. I am grateful to each and every reader.

  Also, to my fans of Dark Minds on Investigation Discovery: I am honored by your dedication and willingness to watch the series and support it. Thank you.

  My publisher, Laurie Parkin, and the entire team at Kensington Publishing Corp.: I thank you for the passion and confidence each of you put into each book. />
  I would like also to give my sincere appreciation to everyone at Investigation Discovery and Beyond Productions involved in making Dark Minds the best (nonfiction) crime show on television. It takes a lot of good people to produce a television series: Andrew “Fazz” Farrell, Alex Barry, Colette “Coco” Sandstedt, John Mavety, Peter Heap, Mark Middis, Toby Prior, Peter Coleman, Derek Ichilcik, Jared “Jars” Transfield, Jo Telfer, Claire Westerman, Milena Gozzo, Cameron Power, Katie Ryerson, Inneke Smit, Pele Hehea, Jeremy Peek, Jeremy Adair, Geri Berman, Nadine Terens, Samantha Hertz, Lale Teoman, Hayden Anderson, Savino (from Onyx Sound Lab in Manchester, Connecticut), David O’Brien, Ra-ey Saleh, Nathan Brand, Rebecca Clare, Anthony Toy, Mark Wheeler, Mandy Chapman, Jenny O’Shea, Jen Longhurst, Anita Bezjak, Geoff Fitzpatrick, John Luscombe, Debbie Gottschalk, Eugenie “Jeannie” Vink, Sucheta Sachdev, Sara Kozak, Kevin Bennett, Jane Latman, and Henry Schleiff.

  My entertainment lawyer/business manager, Matthew Valentinas, a warm thank-you for embarking on this journey with me.

  I am immensely grateful for Shirlina Mann’s assistance. Shirlina is an excellent researcher; all of the running around she did for me at the Leesburg Courthouse was extremely helpful. Thanks, Shirlina!

  Lastly, my family: Mathew, Jordon, Regina, and, especially, April, whose dedication to her schoolwork and sports is a true inspiration to me.

  Don’t miss the next exciting real-life thriller by M. William Phelps

  TO LOVE AND TO KILL

  Coming from Kensington Publishing Corp. in 2015!

  Keep reading for a preview excerpt ...

  CHAPTER 1

  FOOTSTEPS. THE SOFT, spongy slap of rubber work shoes against the scratched, unwaxed, filthy surface of a tile floor.