Unholy Sacrifice

by Robert Scott

  “Remember Frances Nelson [Jim Gamble’s mother] saying, ‘I never got to say good-bye to my son, Hal. I never said good-bye.’

  “Remember Olga Land saying how close Selina and Jenny were. Jenny never would have hurt anyone unless they hurt Selina.”

  Daniel Cook was more emotional now than he had ever been during all the other phases of the trial. He told the jurors, “I gotta say, when you happen to look in your rearview mirror and see Mr. Jewett barreling down on you . . . if you don’t think that’s trouble, boy, you don’t know what trouble is. Last week all of you made the decision that this man is going to die in prison for sure. You’ve already decided that. Now it’s your decision of when.”

  Cook told them there were eleven circumstances in which the death penalty could be imposed in California. He said it was for the worst of the worst, and Justin did not fall into that category.

  Almost crying and angry at Jewett, Cook told the jurors that Justin’s military record had to go on the side of mitigating circumstances, not aggravating ones. He said, “This just gets under my skin that the prosecutor would use my client’s military and veteran’s status as an aggravating factor. My client served his country with honor and dignity!

  “This is not a game between the prosecutor and defense attorney. This is not a competition to see who wins. Seek and maintain the moral high ground. You are not grouped together as one. Each of the twelve of you are separate impartial judges. Stand for life. Choose life! Choosing life without parole doesn’t mean you’re not sensitive to the crimes that happened. Rise up! Choose life!”

  Jewett’s response during the rebuttal was swift and sarcastic. “Choose life! Justin didn’t afford that choice to the five victims! Ivan’s murder alone is punishable by the death penalty.”

  Then Jewett played a short audiotape retrieved from a new phone machine the Stinemans had bought. They were having trouble with the machine and Ivan’s voice could be heard saying, “Just buy a new one.”

  Annette responded, “I’d hate to do that because what’ll we do with this one? It’ll just end up out in the garage like everything else.”

  At that moment, one of the Stinemans’ cats wandered in, and everyone in court heard Annette say, “Goochy-goochy-goo” to the cat.

  The courtroom erupted into laughter, including the jurors and Judge O’Malley. But it was laughter tinged with sadness. They all knew that those voices would be stilled on August 2, 2000.

  The court regulars were stumped about how this verdict would turn out. Usually in unanimity on the outcomes, they were divided now. Chris Darden said, “I’m completely lost on what the verdict will be. Something I never was on the other phases. Juror number five—she was already struggling with the verdict on the other phases. I think she doesn’t want to put Justin to death, but she also loves the Stinemans.”

  The jurors decided not to congregate on Friday, July 30, 2004, in the deliberation room. They gathered again on Monday, August 2, 2004, at 9:37 A.M. and deliberated all through the day.

  One of the courtroom regulars, Chris, was sitting on a bench out in the hallway in front of Judge O’Malley’s courtroom when he saw the jurors coming. He said, “As the jurors were walking to the stairwell, Mike the bailiff turned around, looked at me and said, ‘Don’t leave.’

  “Mike came out of O’Malley’s courtroom, walked over to me and said, ‘There’s been a verdict! It’s going to be read tomorrow morning at nine A.M.’ I was completely shocked and caught off guard.”

  Then Chris, note taker that he always was, jotted down what he thought the verdict would be. He wrote, “Three death penalties—Ivan Stineman, Annette Stineman and Selina Bishop.” He did admit later that this was just a guess and he really didn’t know how things would turn out.

  Chris also jotted down, “Tomorrow when the verdict is read, it will be four years to the day when Jennifer and James were killed.”

  On the morning of Tuesday, August 3, 2004, the courtroom was packed as the jurors filed in. As soon as they sat down, they all held each other’s hands throughout the reading of the verdict. Tom Moyer, the court clerk, read the jurors’ decision. He began, “We the jury recommend Justin Alan Helzer be put to death. . . .”

  As soon as Tom said “death,” according to Chris, juror number five began sobbing uncontrollably. She doubled over in her seat, still holding hands with jurors four and six. Other jurors were crying softly as well. Justin Helzer sat passively and seemed to stare at nothing in particular. Chris Darden’s prediction from the day before came true—Justin received the death penalty for the murders of Ivan, Annette and Selina. He got life without the possibility of parole for Jennifer and James.

  Daniel Cook had the jurors polled individually on all the death penalty counts. Tom Moyer made his way from juror to juror, asking them if death was their true verdict. Each of them answered yes until juror number five. She was crying uncontrollably by now and could not speak. Tom stood patiently, waiting for her to calm down.

  According to Chris, “Judge O’Malley looked at juror number five with compassionate eyes, patiently awaiting her answer as well. Finally after about thirty seconds or more of silence and waiting, juror number five, while sobbing, mustered up the word yes, which was barely audible.

  “Instead of the usual five bailiffs on a verdict announcement, they had eight bailiffs in the courtroom. Judge O’Malley started crying while she was thanking the jury. She told them, ‘We have placed a heavy burden on all of you. This county will be indebted to you all.’

  “Then, while the jury was excused, five bailiffs went over to the jury box step and formed a tight wall so the jury could exit through the side door. The press and media cameras could not come inside O’Malley’s courtroom. So every time someone would open up the double doors to exit, there were three photographers snapping pictures of every single person coming out, connected to the case or not.

  “All the television cameras were at the exit door and bombarded the Stineman daughters and all the Bishop, Villarin and Gamble families with their bright lights and microphones in their faces.

  “The press and media were all outside the courtroom in the lobby of the second floor. I had my back against the courtroom double doors, and Carma and Heather happened to walk up to their usual spots next to the courtroom doors. The press and media started snapping still pictures of us from about five different cameras. There were cameras being held up high in the air, outstretched by the photographers’ arms, and then other photographers going underneath my armpit to snap pictures of Carma and Heather. All this time, I held up papers to cover the side of my face.

  “I had Heather hide on the opposite side of me and I used my body as a shield, since she was facing the cameras head-on. And I had Carma stand directly in front of me and face me, so her back was to the cameras. It was bad! A very uncomfortable situation.”

  After the chaos of the courtroom hallway, the victims’ family members went to different locales to hold impromptu memorial services.

  A reporter for the Contra Costa Times was in Marin County and spoke with an employee at the Paper Mill Creek Saloon. The employee said, “I just wish he’d (Justin) say he was ready for execution now. But he won’t because he’s a selfish pig. He’s not a man.”

  Down the road at a memorial in Forest Knolls, friends, relatives and family members of Selina Bishop, Jennifer Villarin and James Gamble held hands in a circle. Robert Asuncion said, “We thank God for our family and for keeping us together. If it wasn’t for the strength of this family, it would be tough right now. If it wasn’t for the strength of our friends, it would be tough right now.”

  David Villarin added, “For the loss we’ve had, we are rich in memories and rich in the love we have for each other. It’s a relief today. It’s not a celebration. It will never be a celebration.”

  Jenny’s sister Olga Land summed it up for many by saying, “It’s not a baseball game. We didn’t win. Nobody won.”

  The trial for Justin Alan Helzer was
over. The trial for Glenn Taylor Helzer was just beginning.

  CHAPTER 15

  The End of Days

  In the back of many people’s minds for Taylor’s trial was the thought “When will the fireworks begin?” If Justin was mildly disruptive with his “I want to die,” statements, many believed that was nothing compared to what Taylor might say while in court. One reporter even told Chris Darden that he would be going to the trial in expectation of Taylor blowing up at some point.

  At first, before jury selection began, those predictions seemed to come true. Taylor and the lawyers had a hearing on September 17, 2004, to discuss issues while Suzanne Chapot was asking once more for a change of venue. During the proceedings, Ray and Mabel Carberry were in the gallery, as were Chris Darden and Nancy Hall. Chris said later, “Taylor was laughing loudly during some parts of the hearing. He was smiling and really interacting with his two attorneys. He seemed to be having a very, very good time at the defense table. He was talking so loud that everyone was listening to him talk to his attorneys.

  “Taylor then turned around and looked into the gallery. He saw a young, very tall attorney in the gallery. Taylor gave a huge smile to the young attorney. Then he wrote a half-page letter, handed it to Ms. Chapot, who got up from the defense table, walked back to the gallery and gave the letter to the young attorney. That attorney wrote back to Taylor and then walked up to the defense table and started talking to Taylor. Taylor was laughing and smiling. It almost looked like he was hanging out with a buddy of his. Clearly having a great time.”

  Chris noticed one more thing. After Taylor was escorted away for the day, Judge O’Malley made eye contact with Chris Darden and Ray and Mabel Carberry. She smiled and said, “It’s good to see everyone again.”

  If Taylor was having fun in the courtroom, the 650 prospective jurors were not. Brought in seventy-five at a time, many looked for ways to get out of jury duty any way they could. They cited financial hardships, vacations, illness and child-care concerns. One woman even said that she mostly spoke Mandarin and did not understand English very well. About people with vacations, Judge O’Malley smiled and said, “We take vacations very, very seriously around here.”

  The biggest laugh during jury selection was when O’Malley asked a person if she had any dependents. The woman answered, “Just my parrot.”

  If Justin’s trial got off to a rocky start with the Associated Press reporter, it didn’t take long for Taylor’s trial to be heading in the same direction on October 28, 2004. One potential juror was a Mormon, and Judge O’Malley asked if she could put that aside. The woman said that she could, but she wondered if she could tell her husband about aspects of the case as it went along. O’Malley informed her that she wouldn’t be able to speak about the case with anyone until the trial was over. The woman acknowledged this and said that she understood.

  Less than an hour later, the same woman was out in the hall during a break and phoned her husband on her cell phone. Someone overheard her talk about Taylor’s case on the phone and it sounded like the woman was indeed talking to her husband, because of the nature of the conversation.

  Incredibly, the woman with the cell phone had a husband who was a Mormon who had done his mission in Brazil, just like Taylor. The woman’s conversation had even included the phrases “That’s what I thought. I thought you did yours in Brazil. I told the judge that you did, and I got a look from everyone in the courtroom.”

  Another comment by the woman, according to the person who overheard the conversation, was “The prosecutor—I’m not sure about yet. But that defense woman, I don’t care for her!”

  The person who overheard the conversation went up to bailiff Mike Harkelroad and asked, “Would Judge O’Malley want to know about this?” Mike said that she would.

  Harkelroad, Judge O’Malley, Harold Jewett, Suzanne Chapot and Gordon Scott (also a lawyer for Taylor) all went into chambers and discussed the problem. A short time later, Judge O’Malley in open court said, “We’re on the record to discuss the matter that has been brought to the attention of the court. A potential juror who was overheard discussing the case after having been admonished several times not to do so and specifically admonished not to talk about the case to her husband—that potential juror assured the court that she would not discuss the case with her husband. It has become very clear that she was indeed speaking to her husband when asking if it was Brazil where he did his mission, as well as making some remark as to her feelings toward some of the attorneys in this case. I feel I have a problem with this person. Do any of the attorneys have any objection to the court itself removing her?”

  Then she added, “Neither side will lose any of their peremptory challenges. This one will be on the court.”

  Neither side did object, and the juror was sent packing.

  If Taylor Helzer had been all smiles and good cheer on September 17, that was not the case on November 5, 2004. A professional photographer, Don Wilson, was allowed by the court to take photos of Taylor sitting with his attorneys. As Wilson set up his camera in the front of the courtroom, Taylor snapped, “Can you give us a minute? This isn’t a circus! This is serious business! Hold on. I said, hold on!”

  Wilson ignored Taylor’s outburst and quietly went about his business. He did snap several shots of Taylor sitting with Suzanne Chapot and Gordon Scott.

  One person who was sitting in the gallery commented later, “Well, we just saw the real Taylor Helzer.”

  Chris Darden commented later, “I’ll bet he (Taylor) was that way with the Stinemans. Demanding and abrupt. Can you imagine how scary that must have been for them?”

  The jury was all selected by November 5, and Tom Moyer, the court clerk, read all eighteen charges and thirty-nine overt acts. The reading took almost a half hour to complete.

  On November 8, 2004, opening statements began in The People of California v. Glenn Taylor Helzer. Harold Jewett told the jurors, “There is a tremendous amount of information in this case. Where does all the evidence fit into the big picture? And there is a big picture. This trial is the end of an investigation that began on August 3, 2000. And it all started with a nine-one-one call in Marin County.”

  Jewett said that over time, fifty investigators interviewed 450 witnesses. There were stacks of boxes of evidence in the courtroom, and they were only a small percentage of the total. Many more items were kept in a storage room and took up two whole walls.

  Jewett declared, “The investigation is not over yet. This case is not over until you say it’s over!”

  Once again, he gave a recitation of the lives of the victims: Ivan and Annette Stineman, Selina Bishop, Jenny Villarin and James Gamble. Then he recited about the lives and crimes of Taylor Helzer, Justin Helzer and Dawn Godman before Children of Thunder. Jewett said, “Selina was necessary as a middle person. They needed a patsy. From the day the defendant met Selina, she was marked for death.”

  Jewett recounted, day by day, the carnage that had been dealt out starting on Sunday, July 30, 2000. Unlike at Justin’s trial, the story did not end with the initial arrests at Saddlewood Court on August 7. The story took off again, as Taylor had, when he jumped out the window of Detective Inskip’s vehicle. It followed him as he ran down his neighborhood streets and confronted William Sharp and Mary Mozzochi.

  Jewett summed it all up by saying, “At the end of this case, we want one thing—justice!”

  Suzanne Chapot, on the other hand, told the jury that Taylor had already pleaded guilty on all charges and was remorseful. He would be locked up for life, no matter what happened now. She said, “You are human. You have feelings of outrage. But you must restrain your emotions.

  “Taylor was a friend, a husband and a devoted father. What made him do this? We will present evidence of a life spinning out of control. Only a sick person would do it. This doesn’t minimize Taylor’s responsibility, but we are asking for life.

  “The prosecution wants you to focus on a single period of time. [But] there is men
tal illness in his family. Both sides of the family are Mormons, and his grandfather on his mother’s side claimed that he once saw Jesus Christ in his front yard. He was there for hours.

  “Taylor was ordained at twelve, became a teacher at eighteen and was called to the priesthood. He had a blessing from a bishop saying how special he was. Taylor’s first experience away from home was in the National Guard. There was evil that he saw there in Texas. He had discussions about premarital sex with others in his unit and even made some converts. He was determined to fight evil and he had the scriptures to fall back on.

  “Taylor trained for his mission in Utah. He was one of the star trainees and he knew many of the scriptures better than the teachers.

  “It was in Brazil that he began to argue about the LDS Church’s doctrine. He even argued with the mission president in Brazil.”

  Then Chapot said that when Taylor married Ann, it opened up a whole new world for him—a world he had no contact with before. He could now watch television programs he was not allowed to watch at home while living with his parents. He could go to movies. As far as sex was concerned, Chapot said, “He was like a kid in a candy store. Everything was new. It was overwhelming.

  “It was a combination of his extreme views on scripture, mental illness and Introspect that tipped Taylor over the edge. He combined Introspect with Mormonism. He thought he could transform the world. He saw governments within governments that affected us.”

  Then Chapot spoke of Taylor being committed to a mental ward in 1999. She claimed that he never thought he was crazy, so he made up a tale about faking mental illness to his friends so that he could cover up his real mental illness. He was afraid and ashamed of being mentally ill and did everything he could to hide it, even by saying that he was just faking it. He made them believe he was scamming the government. Chapot said that Taylor began taking meds and meth to make the voices stop.

  As Taylor went to raves, sold ecstasy and recruited Justin and Dawn, Chapot said, “His world became smaller and smaller. His inner voices became more prevalent. Dawn and Justin and Taylor fed on their own neurosis.”