When Hembree took Randi out into the woods and lit her body on fire, he said he knew the end was near and he would eventually be caught. So he decided to embark on a two-week bender to end all benders and then commit suicide by cop somewhere at the conclusion of his run.
“What did you do for the next couple weeks?”
“I couldn’t really tell you, exactly. I just stayed stoned. It was surreal. It was just like walking underwater. I mean, I was just mind fucked. I mean, I don’t know. I can’t tell you, man.”
The remainder of Hembree’s direct examination was, above all, a man now saying he had lied about nearly everything he had told police. He even came up with an excuse for lying about killing both girls, saying he felt admitting the murders was better than going down for the robberies. Yet, when it came time to talk about those robberies, Hembree stressed through Beam’s questioning how he had used a toy gun, as if it made the crimes less threatening and less fearful for those on the receiving end.
Hembree said he did not kill anyone in Florida. He made it up because he believed it would give him more “leverage” when cutting deals with the DA’s office.
Then he and Beam broke into a conversation about how many medications Hembree had been on throughout his life. They discussed how many psychiatric hospitals he had been admitted into—and how often he lied to police throughout his life.
And then Richard Beam was done.
CHAPTER 107
After a much-needed break, ADA Stephanie Hamlin, at first a bit nervous about questioning Hembree, got right into it with the admitted killer: “So your story since this morning is, up until a few minutes ago, that you got caught for some robberies with a plastic gun, and when you got caught for those, you thought it would be a good idea to confess to two capital murders to help you with your robbery sentence?”
“That’s your interpretation. I disagree with about half of what you said,” Hembree snapped back.
Hamlin knew right then how easy it was going to be to rattle Danny Hembree. Any nervousness she might have had going in had now subsided. Just that one response told Hamlin how “much of a jerk” Hembree sounded like. He was going to alienate jurors. He’d already disrespected jurors repeatedly by cussing on direct.
“But that’s what you testified to?” Hamlin said.
“No!”
“You said you were playing the system, so you decided to confess to those two murders because you knew it would help you with the robbery charges in Charlotte.”
“Um . . . that’s pretty close. Yeah.”
Hamlin made her point again: Hembree’s answer sounded as stupid as it was. The guy confessed to two murders (punishable by the death penalty if found guilty) in lieu of confessing to several robberies? It was preposterous. Did Hembree think jurors were ignorant?
“And then you said you kept the story going because you wanted to put a feather in Detective Hensley’s cap?” Hamlin asked.
“No,” Hembree stated. “You’ve misunderstood what I said. Would you like me to clarify that?”
What did the prosecutor have to lose? Hembree was digging his own hole. “Sure,” she said.
“Actually, what I said was, Detective Hensley, being young and overzealous, this case would have been a big feather in his cap with enough room and glory to go around for the DA to get some media attention, who everybody knows is a media hound, anyway. . . .”
Hamlin asked the obvious next question: “So you told Detective Hensley you killed Heather Catterton and Randi Saldana so that Mr. Bell could get some media attention?”
“No. That’s not what I told him. That’s just a spin-off of what I told him. The reason I told him was to protect myself.”
Hamlin knew one of her greatest assets in questioning Hembree was going to be asking the same questions twice.
“Protect yourself from these robbery charges in Charlotte?”
“Absolutely,” Hembree said. “I was looking at life without parole. I’m no worse off now than I was then, before I confessed.”
“You’re no worse off confessing to two capital murders?”
Hembree said: “That’s exactly right.”
“So, from what you just told this jury, within a three-week time period, you were smoking crack and having sex with two women, and they just by chance died at your momma’s house with you.”
“I don’t think it was by chance.”
They discussed Randi’s death. Hamlin questioned Hembree about the blood in the den and wanted to know if he was telling jurors it was all from a nick on the bridge of Randi’s nose, which she had acquired while climbing into the house through the window. Was this what he wanted jurors to accept?
He said it was. And the reason why there was blood in the den, Hembree said, “When I choked her, it forced the blood out. . . .”
After being asked, Hembree denied there was any blood found on the couch.
Hamlin reminded the defendant that forensic testing, which several experts had testified to, proved it was Randi’s blood on the couch.
Hembree still wouldn’t agree.
They moved on.
Hamlin wanted to know how Hembree choked Randi.
“We were having sex. I was performing oral sex on her. She was sitting on the couch. I choked her with this hand, right here,” Hembree said, sticking it out.
“So you were performing oral sex on her, and you were doing what to yourself?”
“Masturbating.”
“And you took one hand while you’re performing oral sex and you reached all the way up while she’s sitting on the couch?”
“It wasn’t that big of a reach.”
“And you killed her with your one hand while you’re performing oral sex and playing with yourself?”
“I believe that’s my testimony,” Hembree said with a modicum of sarcasm. “But I don’t recall saying, ‘playing with myself.’ I believe I said, ‘masturbating.’ ”
The hatred he had for this woman questioning him revealed itself in his tone and demeanor. (“He was very demeaning on the witness stand toward me, and the jurors picked up on it . . . ,” Hamlin said later.)
“Masturbating?” Hamlin asked again.
“Yes.”
“And then all of a sudden,” she added, raising her voice, “you notice that she’s dead and that she’s bleeding?”
“Yeah.”
Then came the thunderous denouement Stephanie Hamlin had been leading up to: “And [the blood] got somewhere on the couch and down in the closet?”
Realizing he’d been tripped up by his own words, Hembree said:
“Uh-huh.”
Stephanie Hamlin asked Hembree about a confession he claimed to have made to police about a murder in Buncombe County, North Carolina. It was a confession Hembree had thought he had given to the police. It was a good indication that Hembree had forgotten how many women he had murdered throughout the years.
They traded barbs, back and forth. Each time, the ADA added one more shovel filled with dirt atop Hembree as he fell deeper into what was becoming a bottomless pit. Every time Hembree thought he was one-upping the prosecutor with his snarky, snappy remarks and weak explanations, Hamlin came back with a fact that shut him down. Take those Florida cases, for example. Hamlin pointed out that the first time Hembree had ever mentioned making up those confessions was during his direct examination. He had never said anything about a false confession where Florida or Heather or Randi had been concerned until he sat on the stand to pronounce his innocence.
Hembree balked at that accusation. He said it wasn’t true.
But all the jury had to do was look at the record and see that it was.
At one point, Hamlin asked Hembree about the detail he had gone into when discussing the murders of Heather and Randi with law enforcement.
“Yeah, I’m pretty good at that,” Hembree responded.
“Pretty consistent detail,” Hamlin pointed out.
“Yeah. I mean, if you’re going to tell a lie
, you want to stick to it.”
“And, in fact,” Hamlin added, making a direct point, “when there were times that Detective Hensley would ask you questions, he may have gotten [things] wrong, but you actually corrected him to make sure he was getting this true story right.”
Hembree said, “Yeah.”
Hembree denied every violent crime he had admitted to police, including those attacks in the 1980s with his crime partner Bobby Johnson. Through this line of questioning, which became nothing short of a verbal-sparring match, Hembree’s hubris got the best of him. He had a tough time controlling his anger and what was a growing hatred for the ADA.
“Why did you confess to those [other crimes]?” Hamlin wanted to know. Why bring in additional crimes? If you’re making up confessions to throw off the DA on some robberies, why make matters worse by bringing in more violent crimes?
“Well, this last time I just throwed it all in: four, five, six murders, couple kidnappings. I mean, they were eating it up. I was laying it down. They was picking it up.”
“So you were doing this for fun?”
“No!” Hembree raged. Hamlin had poked him one too many times. “I’ve already explained why I’m doing it, to you. Are you dense, lady?”
She laughed.
Hembree continued: “I told you I done it because I needed to use the leverage to beat those robbery charges. . . .”
“So you admitted to two capital murders, a rape, a robbery, another beating, to help you out on some robbery charges you had with a plastic gun?”
“Among other things, yes.”
“How did confessing to the 1981 and 1980 rapes and robberies and assaults, how did that help you with your . . . robberies?”
“It was just more crimes.... It was just the story got bigger and bigger as it went along.”
Hamlin cleared something up by stating how Hembree had escaped from custody on five separate occasions, not three, as had been originally reported.
Hembree agreed, almost to the point of bragging about his expertise in that area, saying, “It’s not my fault that they’re dumb enough to go for my bullshit.”
This led to a long-winded description by Hembree of how he had outsmarted and roughed up prison guards in order to make the escapes.
The intensity of the questioning grew as it continued. In a very smart, veteran move, Hamlin asked Hembree about his aggression, which seemed to be pouring out of him as he spoke, along with the aggressive behavior he had displayed throughout his life. She queried how it related to the confessions he had made and what he had explained to a psychiatrist during one of his evaluations.
“No, lady,” he said, referring to her insistence that he had told his psychiatrist he was aggressive and had a propensity for violence. “I’m talking about the confessions and all the false information that I give to authorities to play the game with them. It’s documented. It’s a thirty-year history.”
“Thirty-year history of you talking to doctors about your impulse—that you can’t keep your impulses under control!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Hembree shouted.
“You don’t remember that . . . thirty-year history back?”
“I was speaking of the thirty-year history of my thoughts, confessions, and saying just whatever is convenient, playing the game with the police. I would have to see the documents. In fact, I have probably three thousand mental-health documents in my cell down there, and there’s no way possible that I can understand or remember all of them. . . .”
Hembree went on to say he could recall only being charged with one assault in all of his fifty years, adding he’s “never been combative or anything with the authorities”—this after admitting to fighting with guards in order to break out of jail. “Now, if you take all the mental-health stuff that’s there, and all the statements that I made and stuff that’s written down, a lot of it is true, and I was actually probably seeking some kind of help, but basically it was bullshit, too, to get certain types of medication in prison.”
Wanting clarification, Hamlin asked, “So, what you’re saying is, you say bullshit when it’s benefiting you—like when you’re facing two murder charges—you’re going to come up with bullshit and say it from that stand?”
“I don’t understand that. Are you making a statement and asking me to agree with it, or are you asking a question?”
“That was a question.”
“I don’t understand.”
As evidence, Hamlin offered several reports from Hembree’s doctors proving he had discussed being aggressive and violent, behaviors he had denied.
Still, with his own words in black and white in front of him, Hembree would not admit to any of it.
Hamlin asked Hembree about one specific report detailing how in 2009 he checked himself into the hospital because of “homicidal ideation or wanting to kill your [former] in-laws.”
With the statement put in front of him, Hembree said he recalled the incident.
“And is this the same time you talked about how you had beat up one of your psychiatrists that tended to you in the jail?”
“I don’t remember making that statement . . . ,” Hembree answered.
“So you want this jury to believe that everything you’ve ever said in the past is not true, and that two women died in your presence within a three-week time period and both were accidental? You want this jury to believe that?”
“Objection,” Hembree’s attorney shouted. “Asked and answered at least four times.”
“Objection sustained.”
Hamlin was on a roll. The ADA asked Hembree about several armed robberies he had committed and pleaded to over the years, pointing out for jurors, without shoving it down their throats, that Hembree had not recanted any of those charges.
Hembree countered by saying he did that so he could “consolidate” the charges into one, bartering a twenty-month sentence.
To which, Hamlin responded, “You manipulated the system?”
“Well, I mean, I choose to call it ‘working the system.’ ‘Manipulation’ is, you know, in the eye of the beholder. I don’t know. I just work the system. I do whatever is best for me. If you want to call it ‘manipulation,’ then that’s fine, I guess.”
This was all the prosecutor needed to hear. Her follow-up was terse and piercing: “You do whatever is best for you?”
“Most of the time,” Hembree answered.
Hembree had just closed the lid, burying himself.
Hamlin paused. Then: “Nothing further.”
“Further examination?” Judge Beal asked Hembree’s lawyers.
They were good, too.
It was 4:00 P.M. Beam admitted he had been caught off guard and thought Hembree’s cross-examination would go until the end of the day, so he had not prepared another witness.
They agreed to resume at nine-thirty the following morning.
CHAPTER 108
Juries are unpredictable. Just when lawyers think they’ve got a jury figured out, they come back and surprise the attorneys. Most lawyers, as a rule of thumb, try not to make predictions or consider how a jury might be keeping score: those looks each juror might offer on his or her way into the courtroom, or reactions to evidence and testimony. Add a capital case to the mix and it intensifies all those feelings. One cannot help trying to gauge what jurors are thinking. Part of a jury’s unpredictability, it is widely believed throughout the legal system, is that jurors rely—as much as we say they don’t or shouldn’t—on personal beliefs, intimate biases, intuition, and core human values. Part of what goes into a jury’s decision is how each juror responds to the evidence, obviously; but an even greater part, according to a paper published in the DePaul Law Review,2 is how jurors react to witness testimony. Evidence is expected. How a witness tells his or her story is what ultimately convinces most jurors which way to vote.
Danny Hembree and his team could have put up ten experts to talk about his proclivity for falsifying confessions and
making up stories. They could have questioned investigators on every aspect of the investigation, digging and searching for that one mistake law enforcement inevitably and unintentionally made. They could have entered into evidence reports by psychiatrists and psychologists that explained how much Hembree had lied. Yet, none of it would have negated the bitter, abrasive, and combative testimony that Hembree offered himself on cross-examination: how he went after ADA Hamlin at times and demeaned her; how he attacked her personally; how he denied every serious fact she threw at him. Not a thing any additional witness from this point on could say would wash that nasty taste out of jurors’ mouths that they undoubtedly had from listening to Danny Hembree spew his vitriol.
“I think I was just so tired after that cross-examination,” Hamlin later said after being asked how Hembree’s coarse attitude and condescending nature affected her. “I was glad it was over. I do remember I had fun cross-examining him. It is very rare as a prosecutor to be able to cross-examine a murderer.”
After listening to Hembree’s rants, all jurors had to do, if they felt inclined, was put themselves in the position of Heather or Randi at the receiving end of a drug-drunk maniac who didn’t like what was said to him. Hembree had shown jurors who he was. He gave himself away.
Beam had to try to redeem his witness. And so over the course of the next several days, that’s what Hembree’s attorneys set out to do. Beam called a Brevard County sheriff to explain how he had looked into those homicides Hembree admitted to in Florida, but the witness said he could not find any victims matching the time frame associated with Hembree’s admissions.
After the sheriff, Beam called another law enforcement officer, Detective Michel Sumner, who offered nothing of any significance to bolster Hembree’s new story of making false confessions. Yet, through Sumner’s cross-examination by ADA Hamlin, something happened.
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