Dance of Death

by Dale Hudson

  Tommy Brittain, on the other hand, came on like a roaring lion. For forty minutes, he preached that the state’s case against John Frazier was all circumstantial and that they did not have one shred of evidence to prove him guilty. “And don’t you think if there had been any evidence,” he boomed, “four law enforcement agencies and their forensics teams would have found something by now?”

  Morgan Martin held the jury captive for seventy minutes as he went through a laundry list of the state’s evidence and pointed out the discrepancies between that and the witnesses that testified. “All they did was infer that John had been at a certain place or committed a certain act,” Martin emphasized. “It’s all circumstantial evidence. And you can’t pile inference upon inference and call it evidence to say that a man has committed murder. . . . There is nothing here that rises to the level of a motive for murder.”

  Martin apologized for the length of time he had taken, but wanted the jury to know a man’s life was at stake here. Spectators in the courtroom squirmed and shifted from the discomfort of sitting so long in the wooden pews. One young attorney sitting behind the prosecution turned to his associate and whined, “We’ve been sitting so long that my ass is hurting.”

  Greg Hembree had been silent during most of the trial, leaving a lot of the courtroom drama to Humphries. But the time had come in Hembree’s career for him to reach deep inside of himself and grab hold of the best he had. He grabbed a fistful. Walking the jury through the entire scenario from beginning to end, Hembree explained how Poole and Frazier had plotted her husband’s murder: they lured him on the beach, where Renee made love to him; they executed him; then they tried to cover it up. During the one hour and twenty minutes it took Hembree to make his case, John fidgeted in his chair with his head down, mumbling underneath his breath and shaking his head in quiet protest. Morgan Martin listened carefully to every word, determined not to let his opponent get by with some inferences he considered misleading. On four separate occasions, Martin rose to his feet and objected to Hembree’s discourse, prompting Judge Thomas to intervene and call for a sidebar. Without realizing it, those short interludes of discussion may have benefited the prosecution more than the defense, in that it gave the jury periodic breaks to digest and ponder Hembree’s final arguments.

  “John Frazier did not kill Renee Poole,” Hembree pointed out in his closing remarks. “He left her alive because he wanted her. He wanted her, but he hated Brent Poole and wanted him dead.”

  But in the end, it was Hembree’s reference to the movie and screenplay Chicago that would stand out and provide the greatest sting to Frazier’s defense.

  “My daughter loves theater and we recently attended the production of Chicago,” he said. “And I remember the lines of Richard Gere’s character, Billy Flynn—the town’s slickest lawyer—who sang this song.” (Hembree then assured the jury he was not going to sing):

  If you put on a good enough show, it doesn’t matter what the truth is. It becomes a razzle-dazzle show.

  Hembree asked them to remember all the paid experts for the defense. “One hundred five thousand in total dollars . . . it’s showbiz, razzle-dazzle showbiz. Look at all this equipment—you’ve got an Alabama Theater here. You know what your eyes can see.

  “John Adams once said, ‘the truth is a stubborn thing.’” Hembree moved in closer to the jurors and lowered his voice. “No amount of money. No amount of experts. And no amount of razzle-dazzle can stop the truth. They spent all this money on all this equipment just to shake your beliefs.”

  It seemed to fall directly on the captive audience.

  “In the words of Billy Flynn, ‘Give ’em enough razzle dazzle and you’ll get away with murder.’”

  Hembree was relentless.

  “Yes—a man will commit a lot of sins for the love of a bad woman. John Boyd Frazier sinned. He sinned when he entered into an adulterous relationship with Renee; he sinned when he took advantage of his friends; he sinned when he lied in an effort to cover up his crimes.

  “He sinned in so many ways—he sinned when he committed the robbery of taking a father from a daughter.” Hembree paused to let the jury ponder that thought, then offered, “There is no father for this daughter.”

  Martin rose to his feet and objected that Hembree was leading the jury with such an emotional reference to Poole’s daughter. Thomas overruled.

  “Don’t allow the old razzle dazzle to cloud your judgment,” Hembree concluded. “Let the truth prevail.”

  The case was finally handed to the jurors at approximately 6:00 P.M. Spectators and the press estimated the jury would reach a verdict anywhere from two to four hours. Word came earlier than expected. At 7:30 P.M., Judge Thomas slipped back into her robe and announced a verdict had been reached.

  “Guilty on the charge of murder,” the foreman read. “Guilty on the charge of armed robbery. And guilty on the charge of conspiracy to commit murder.” Sobs were heard on both sides of the courtroom.

  Brent Poole’s family asked the judge to send their son’s murderer back to prison for life. “My son was just twenty-four years old,” Agnes Poole cried. “He had just come back to the Lord about five weeks before this happened.... His daughter asks about him all the time.”

  John Boyd Frazier faced the judge at the front of the courtroom, still maintaining his innocence. His face was void, without emotion, as if he had expected to be found guilty. In a soft, gravelly voice, he told the judge he could never kill anybody.

  “I have a daughter myself,” he told Thomas. “And I beg you for a parole date so I might have a chance to spend time with her sometime in the future.”

  Judge Thomas sentenced Frazier to concurrent terms of thirty, thirty, and five years. He would be required to serve 85 percent of that time before being eligible for parole. But with credit for the time he had already served, “supervised” parole could be possible in twenty years. Any way you looked at it, it was a partial victory for both sides—a reduced sentence instead of the life sentence he had received in his first trial.

  After John was led out of the courtroom, his mother, Jane Lovett, stood among her supporters and said loudly, “Sorry? Sorry. . . . My son is going back to prison, and all she can say is she’s sorry?” She was referring to an informal apology Renee Poole had sent through her parents.

  Brent Poole’s brother, Craig, expressed his disappointment with the sentence. “It’s the same case, and the jury saw it the same way. It should have been the same penalty.”

  Greg Hembree praised the jury’s verdict. “I think this says the evidence was clear, even though much of it is circumstantial.”

  A noticeably disappointed Morgan Martin responded, “There is no question the key to the case was the eyewitness testimony. We put that to a strong test, and you live with the result.”

  As expected, Renee Poole had made a brief appearance at John’s trial to act on her Fifth Amendment right not to testify. Shackled at her wrist and feet, her long curly hair hung down and across the shoulders of the prison-issued orange jumpsuit. It broke her mother’s heart to see her daughter in chains. On the way out of the courtroom, Renee looked toward her smiling mom and dad.

  Two days after the trial, John Frazier was transferred to Perry Correctional Institute, in Pelzer, South Carolina (southwest of Greenville), some two hundred miles away from his family. He has not spoken or written to Renee since their bond hearing in 1998.

  When Renee received the news of John’s conviction, she was disappointed but not crushed. “I knew from past experiences not to get my hopes up too high,” she wrote from prison. “So, I didn’t have far to fall this go ’round.”

  Even if John would have been found not guilty, the status of Renee’s conviction would have remained the same. Barring a miracle, she’ll never get the opportunity to drive a car, sleep in her own bed or shop at the mall. Two juries were convinced that John Boyd Frazier murdered Brent Poole, but because South Carolina law deems one hand is the hand of all, Kimberly Renee
Poole is considered as guilty as if she herself had pulled the trigger.

  At this book’s writing, it has been two years since Renee received a letter from her daughter. She has accepted the fact they may never be together again. Right now, she is just trying to stay one day ahead of yesterday.

  In 1977, Jack and Marie Summey lived with their two daughters, Brandy and Renee.

  Even as a child, their youngest daughter, Renee, had the looks of a fashion model. (Marie Summey)

  The Summeys vacationed together, visited Disney World, and enjoyed hiking in the mountains. (Jack Summey)

  The Summeys lived in a mobile home until Jack could finish construction on their 3,000-square-foot log home in Clemmons, North Carolina. (Jack Summey)

  At age nine, Renee loved school and earned good grades until the other children started making fun of her, calling her “white trailer trash.”

  When Renee was eleven, she started to slim down. Her classmates teased her, saying she was “as skinny as an Ethiopian.”

  The Summey girls were only a year apart in age, yet very different in personality and temperament. Brandy, the older one, was reserved and shy, while Renee was independent and feisty.

  Renee was a freshman at R.J. Reynolds High School when she started dating a senior, Brent Poole. The two became inseparable.

  By the time Renee was seventeen, she was bored with school and chose to work instead. She and Brent had been romantically involved for almost three years. They planned on getting married when she discovered she was pregnant. (Marie Summey)

  Already expecting their first child, Brent and Renee were married at the Summeys’ home on June 9, 1995. (Marie Summey)

  Jack and Marie Summey loved Brent and welcomed him into their family as “the son they never had.” (Brandy Summey)

  Bill and Agnes Poole wondered if their son, Brent, was making the right decision. Yet they respected him for wanting to do the honorable thing. (Marie Summey)

  Although Renee didn’t get along well with Brent’s family, all was forgiven when she gave birth to Katie in December, 1995. (Marie Summey)

  In less than two years, the Pooles’ marriage was in serious trouble. They hoped a June 1998 vacation in Myrtle Beach, South Carolina would help salvage it.

  Brent Poole loved his daughter, Katie, more than anything in the world. While she slept in an oceanfront hotel only a few hundred yards away, he was gunned down on the beach. (Renee Poole)

  Myrtle Beach Captain of Investigations Sam Hendrick led a multi-department investigation into the murder of Brent Poole. Renee Poole and her lover, John Boyd Frazier, were arrested for the crime four days later. (Dale Hudson)

  Chief Homicide Detective Terry Altman sought justice for Brent’s murder. (Dale Hudson)

  Homicide Detective John King was Altman’s partner. Renee was no match for these two skilled interviewers. (Dale Hudson)

  In 1998, Ralph Wilson was the Horry County Solicitor who decided Renee Poole would face the death penalty for her part in her husband’s murder. (Dale Hudson)

  When Wilson lost the general election to Greg Hembree (left), Renee’s lawyers then had to face him and Deputy Solicitor Fran Humphries (right). (Dale Hudson)

  On trial for conspiracy to murder her husband, Renee Poole looked nothing like “Carlee,” the stage name she used as an exotic dancer. (Dale Hudson)

  Renee had a very capable defense team in William Isaac Diggs and Orrie West, but they could not overcome Renee’s confession and her shady past. (Dale Hudson)

  Renee showed little emotion while seated at the defense table. However, she was brought to tears when she talked with family and friends. (Dale Hudson)

  Renee was convicted of conspiracy to murder her husband and sentenced to life imprisonment without the possibility of parole. (Dale Hudson)

  Renee’s lover, John Boyd Frazier, also stood trial for Brent’s murder. His mother, Jane Lovett, said she knew her son didn’t kill Brent, especially for “that” woman. (Dale Hudson)

  John Boyd Frazier was represented by two of the best defense lawyers in South Carolina, Morgan Martin and Tommy Brittain. (Dale Hudson)

  John Boyd Frazier’s family held hands and prayed the jury would find him innocent. (Dale Hudson)

  Finally, justice was served for Brent Poole’s family when Frazier was found guilty. (Dale Hudson)

  Now, Renee spends her time at Leath Correctional Institute in Greenwood, South Carolina. (Marie Summey)

  Although they seldom see one another, Renee and her sister, Brandy, are still very close. (Marie Summey)

  Jack and Marie Summey still believe their daughter is innocent. They see her regularly on weekends. (Brandy Summey)

  Brent’s grave marker reads, “Beloved son, brother, father, uncle, and friend.” There is no mention of the word “husband.” (Marie Summey)

  Some names have been changed to protect the privacy of individuals connected to this story.

  PINNACLE BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  850 Third Avenue

  New York, NY 10022

  Copyright © 2006 by Dale Hudson

  ISBN: 978-0-7860-1729-4

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  Pinnacle and the P logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.