by Lois Gibson
When I drove into my garage, I glanced at the clock and felt better. Right about this time, Emily would be lining up with all the other girls in her dazzling costume, kicking up her heels to the jazzy music, smiling for the cheering fans…and I whispered, “You go, girl.”
Movies and television detective programs usually show one lone, misunderstood detective or a crime-fighting, wisecracking duo, working to solve a case in solitude. And indeed, this does happen occasionally, as in the Sarah Rinehart homicide case in Newton, Kansas, which was closed almost single-handedly by Detective Sergeant T. Walton, who had to fight so hard to follow his theory on the case.
But most of the time, cases are closed by a team of investigators from various disciplines and sometimes, different departments. And in all my years of working with law enforcement officers from all over the country, I don’t believe I’ve ever seen a better example of teamwork solving a crime than when the Harris County Sheriff’s Department brought their joint efforts to work on the brutal sexual assault of “Emily,” the high school drill-team girl.
All cases are important to investigating officers, but as Sgt. Clarence Douglas of the Houston Police Department’s homicide division said about the Angel Doe case, “Some cases grab you by the gut and just won’t let you go.” And for the Harris County Sheriff’s Department, one of the cases that really motivated detectives to find the criminal who did it was this one.
A sweet young girl had been standing at her school bus stop early one fall morning, like thousands of sweet young girls all over the country, like my daughter or your daughter. She wasn’t doing a single thing to put herself at risk, just waiting to get on the bus to go to school. She was probably thinking about her drill team routine or maybe a boy she liked, or perhaps worrying about an exam scheduled for that day.
And then she was yanked off the street by a couple of vicious losers. The horrible things that were done to Emily and the incredible, amazing courage she displayed in the aftermath of her attack, spurred every law enforcement officer in the county. They would not slow down, they would not stop, they would not rest until the scumbags were caught, locked up and put away so that no other young girls need fear for their lives while waiting for school buses.
And the detectives were right to hunt them down quickly. Kerry Ashley O’Neal was one mean s.o.b. Twenty-three, dark-complected with short black hair, his brown eyes were set deep in his skull. Thick black brows shelved over the eyes gave them a shadowy, sinister appearance and a three-day beard did little to hide his weak chin.
Though he had a common-law wife and a twenty-two-month-old son, this had not prevented him from murdering his wife’s mother.
O’Neal was abusive to his wife. One night, while he was out carousing, she ran out of gas. Stranded, she called her mother to come and get her. It was so late by the time they got back to her mother’s house that she went on to work and left the baby with her mother.
When O’Neal came by later that morning, his mother-in-law scolded him for having left her daughter stranded. Enraged at the (true) accusation, O’Neal raped and then strangled the woman with a telephone cord.
Then he went on to work, leaving his infant son alone in the house with the body of his dead grandmother.
A few hours later, he called police and reported that his mother-in-law had “committed suicide.”
Under questioning, O’Neal claimed that he’d been having an affair with the woman and that she’d threatened to tell her daughter.
None of it was true. And even though the newspapers reported O’Neal’s lies as fact, the detectives weren’t fooled.
HCSD homicide detective Russell Coleman arrested O’Neal and he was charged with the murder.
A native of the dry and dusty west Texas panhandle, Russell Coleman looked deceptively young, with golden hair, brows and clear skin, but his intelligent eyes didn’t miss a thing and he cared deeply for the victimized and those he’d seen in his work who had been hurt by psychopaths like Kerry O’Neal.
According to Detective Coleman, O’Neal wasn’t just mean, he was evil.
“He signed his name KAOS,” Coleman said. “Because his initials were K.A.O. and since he’d named his son after himself, that made him Kerry Ashley O’Neal, Sr., so that’s how he signed his name: KAOS. It’s how he thought of himself. He thought of himself as chaos and he was proud of it.”
But on the one-year anniversary of 9-11, O’Neal was out on bail for the slaying of his mother-in-law. Somehow, even though he had a criminal history going back six years or more, he’d managed to raise the 10 percent of the $100,000 bond that was necessary, a fact which “agitated” Russell Coleman no end.
Since O’Neal’s wife had left him after her mother’s murder, he’d moved in with his grandmother. Most likely, his grandmother had put up her house as collateral for O’Neal’s bail.
It would not be the last favor the old lady would do for her grandson.
On the morning of September 11, O’Neal was driving his Dodge Ram pickup with his buddy, Douglas Neil Tickner, another twenty-three-year-old thug. Who knows what those two were thinking when they drove up to the school bus stop in northeast Harris County that day.
All anyone knows for certain is that Tickner jumped out of the pickup with a knife and forced Emily into the truck.
Then Kerry O’Neal drove her straight into hell.
When I left the HCSD on Friday evening and Emily departed for the football stadium, Detective K.O. Thomas had only my one sketch, which he immediately released to the media and to CrimeStoppers.
“Remember, it was a weekend,” he said later. “We brought the complainant in that Saturday morning for another interview and I wanted her to take another look at the sketch.”
Homicide Detective Coleman had already heard about the sexual assault of “Emily,” and, “It just made me sick,” he said. In one of those amazing serendipitous moments that sometimes happens in an investigation, Coleman went over to the sex crimes division to have a copy made of an audiotape.
“And as I was walking through the offices,” he said, “I saw the composite drawing of Emily’s assailant.”
What he saw startled Detective Coleman. “Not only did the drawing resemble Kerry O’Neal, but the attack had taken place on the north side, where I knew O’Neal lived.”
He approached Detective Thomas and said, “That sketch looks kind of like one of my guys.”
The two investigators discussed the case of Kerry O’Neal, who was out on bail for the murder of his mother-in-law. “He lives in that same general area,” said Detective Coleman. “And he does resemble that sketch.”
Without hesitation, he added, “Kerry O’Neal could have had something to do with this, absolutely. He’s an evil, evil man.”
Returning to his office, Detective Coleman printed up a copy of Kerry O’Neal’s mug shot. He took it over to Thomas and the two men decided that “it wouldn’t hurt” to present Emily with a photo line-up and to include Kerry O’Neal’s picture in with the group.
Detective Thomas says she picked out Kerry O’Neal immediately.
At the same time, a caller from the CrimeStoppers hotline also mentioned Kerry O’Neal as looking like the man in my sketch.
“When K.O. called me and told me this was our man,” said Detective Coleman later, “I actually started shaking. I wanted to get him right now.”
Coleman wasn’t the only law enforcement officer who felt that way. By Monday, Department of Public Safety troopers had also joined in the investigation, driving around the northeast Harris county area, looking for O’Neal’s pickup truck.
During their surveillance, detectives from sex crimes, with assistance from Texas Ranger Sergeant Alolpus Pressley of the Special Crimes Service, put together a comprehensive list of possible locations and known associates of O’Neal’s.
By Wednesday, they had an arrest warrant prepared for Kerry O’Neal for the aggravated sexual assault of Emily.
At that point, officers from
the Gulf Coast Violent Offenders Task Force were deployed to assist in the apprehension of a man who was considered to be armed and dangerous. Later, in a letter of commendation sent out to everyone involved in the case—(including the sketch artist, me)—Harris County Sheriff Tommy Thomas described how the officers “created a net around the area where O’Neal was believed to reside.”
Kerry O’Neal attempted to flee when he saw the cops gathering round. He ran out the back door and jumped a fence—right into the waiting hands of a Task Force member.
Later, while being questioned by investigators, O’Neal confessed to the crime and gave the name of Douglas Tickner as his accomplice. Once Tickner was arrested, he gave a statement as well.
Both men accused the other of masterminding the attack.
It had taken less than one week to track down Emily’s attackers and put them behind bars.
As for me, I was just so profoundly grateful that, if we had to choose one guy to do a composite of—and I had left it up to Emily—she had chosen the right one for me to draw.
Sometimes, the only tool any of us has to use is our intuition. I used mine and Emily used hers. Together, we got it right.
Along with all the investigating officers who worked this case and their support team, I was honored to receive a certificate of appreciation from Sheriff Thomas, “…in recognition of outstanding service and dedication to duty…in the arrest of two dangerous sexual predators…”
But the ink was hardly dry on the sheriff’s letter of commendation before Kerry O’Neal reached out from his jail cell again—not to a lawyer, as you might expect or an investigator or even a clergyman.
But to a hit man.
Although to me most law enforcement officers have a touch of the heroic about them, there are thousands of law enforcement officers like Gary Johnson who go about their work quietly, unsung, unnoticed and unheralded.
And I know Gary wouldn’t have it any other way.
Guys like Gary don’t wear uniforms or drive squad cars. They don’t flip out I.D. badges and say things like, “Gary Johnson, homicide.” And when the big cases are solved, you won’t find the Gary Johnsons of the world lined up behind the brass in front of television cameras.
Gary’s still going about his job of protecting and serving the citizens of Harris County. Gary is an investigator for the Major Offenders division of the Harris County District Attorney’s office, one of only a few who work undercover. Gary handles first-degree felony cases such as “solicitation,” or attempting to hire someone to do something for you…like kill another person.
To better understand the scope of Gary’s job, it is necessary to understand that Houston covers some 619 square miles. The Houston Chronicle recently published a diagram of the city that had been provided by the City of Houston Planning and Development Department. The city was divided into nine puzzle pieces and each piece of the puzzle represented a major city in the United States.
According to that diagram, the following cities would all fit into the geographical boundaries of the city of Houston at the same time: Cleveland, Miami, St. Louis, Pittsburgh, San Francisco, Baltimore, Boston, Denver and Washington, D.C.
Consequently, the Harris County District Attorney’s office in Houston employs some fifty investigators, who assist prosecutors handling cases of all kinds, from misdemeanors to domestic violence to juvenile courts to consumer fraud to organized crime to narcotics to…well, you get the idea.
So when an inmate at the Harris County jail told his defense attorney that he had some information concerning another inmate who was looking for a hit man and wanted to know if he could trade that information for some consideration in his own case, the defense attorney contacted the District Court Chief, who then called Gary Johnson.
“I met with the inmate and his lawyer,” said Gary later, “and he said that he’d heard Kerry Ashley O’Neal say that he should have killed that little girl he raped and that they were going to seat a jury on his trial on July 22. He wanted her dead before then.”
Gary explained to the inmate that he couldn’t offer the guy a “deal,” but that he would be glad to testify at his trial, “as to the fact that he had come forth with information that had saved a young lady’s life,” that it might help in the sentencing phase.
The inmate agreed to this and Gary sent him back to jail. “Don’t approach O’Neal directly,” he instructed the inmate. “Just let him know that you’re willing to listen if he wants to talk about it. If he does, then tell him that you know a guy who might do it. Say you don’t know him very well, but that you have a phone number.” Gary handed the inmate a telephone number and went on about his business.
Within a few days, Gary got a call from Kerry O’Neal. “I should have killed that girl in the first place,” he said, “or I might not be in this mess. I need her killed before July 22.”
He gave Gary “Emily’s” home address and her physical description.
“I told him I’d kill her,” said Gary, “and we agreed on a price of $5,000, with half to be paid upfront.”
“My grandmother’s going to get the money from my mother,” said O’Neal. “She’ll make the money drop for you.” He gave Gary his grandmother’s phone number and address, adding, “but if my grandfather answers the phone? Don’t mention this to him, because he doesn’t know anything about it.”
They arranged a time and place of payment.
“I really appreciate what you’re doing for me,” said O’Neal.
Over the next few phone calls (and no, the Harris County jail does not record inmate telephone conversations), Kerry O’Neal discussed various details of the hit with Johnson.
“He always showed deep respect for me,” said Johnson later. “He was always very courteous and grateful.”
Which, Johnson added, “is typical psychopathic behavior.”
Then Johnson contacted the grandmother. At one point in their conversation the sly old lady seemed to sense that Gary was not a real hit man and suddenly, she wanted him to meet with Gary’s mother instead of her.
“She set up the meeting,” said Gary, “but I believe she used the mother as a cut-out.”
Meanwhile, poor Kerry O’Neal was having money problems. He was having trouble raising the $5,000. He asked Gary Johnson if he would settle for a $1,000 down payment on the murder of the high school drill team girl.
Johnson said yes, he’d take a thousand.
I’m sure Kerry O’Neal rejoiced when he heard of his sudden luck, that he would only have to pay a thousand bucks down to get “Emily” murdered.
I confess that sometimes things from my job get to me. As I’ve said before, I don’t cry for the cases we can’t solve and Lord knows that if I cried for every case we did, I’d be crying all the time.
But when I think of that valiant, brave girl with her beautiful soul, going out two days after her horrifying attack at the hands of “KAOS” and his buddy, to perform with her drill team at the homecoming football game… while all along, that miserable psychopath was plotting her death… well, I cry.
“I met with O’Neal’s mother in a parking lot outside a hardware store on Highway 59,” Gary Johnson explained later. “There were other surveillance officers there and, like all the talks with O’Neal, I recorded our conversation.
“She gave me the money and I said, “So, this is the down payment for the killing of Emily So-and-So?”
At that point, the hapless mother of the devil’s spawn “went berserk.”
Screaming, “What are you talking about? This is money to hire Kerry a new lawyer! Kill somebody? No! No! It’s not to kill ANYBODY!” she jumped out of the car, into her own and peeled rubber out of the parking lot.
Gary Johnson believed the woman. Clearly, she’d been manipulated. She was not put under arrest.
Kerry O’Neal was another matter.
I asked Gary if he at least had the satisfaction of placing “KAOS” under arrest for trying to have Emily killed and he said, with no
trace of bitterness or frustration, “No, I don’t get that satisfaction. The detectives who handle the case make the arrests.”
He might have liked to have testified against Kerry O’Neal in court, but when presented with the irrefutable evidence that he’d tried to have somebody murdered from his jail cell, O’Neal chose, instead, to work out a plea bargain with the district attorney’s office.
For the murder of his mother-in-law, the aggravated sexual assault of Emily, the drill-team star and the murder-for-hire scheme to have her killed, Kerry Ashley O’Neal was sentenced to fifty years in prison. (Johnson explained that the sentence was actually more harsh than it seemed, since it was O’Neal’s first felony conviction.) His partner in the sexual assault, Douglas Tickner, was given thirty-five years for that crime.
Homicide Detective Russell Coleman, who first identified O’Neal from the sketch I’d done with Emily, was disgusted at what he considered far too light a term, but explained that, according to recent changes in Texas law, O’Neal will have to serve at least three-quarters of his sentence.
“As mean as he is,” Coleman said, “I fully expect that he’ll have to serve his entire sentence. Kerry O’Neal will be in his seventies by the time he gets out.” He added, “and he’ll be every bit as evil then as he is now.”
Investigator Gary Johnson had a similar opinion of the man who liked to call himself KAOS.
“Oh yeah,” he said, “That guy’s walking, talking pain and suffering.”
But if Kerry O’Neal is “walking, talking pain and suffering,” then Emily is walking, talking courage and heart.
Two years after her brutal attack, Emily agreed to go on-camera and give an interview on my behalf to CBS This Morning, which was doing a piece on me. Holding her head high and flashing that beautiful smile, she talked about how comfortable she had felt with me that afternoon we did the sketch and said, “If it wasn’t for that sketch, they (O’Neal and Tickner) probably wouldn’t have been caught.”