With One Shot

by Dorothy Marcic

  * * *

  In one of my many talks with Kolowski, who was creating the 3-D crime scene, I mentioned to him what Detective Blanke had said about how the police were surprised at how the case turned out, and how Funk’s analysis, so far, seemed to be more on the legal documents.

  “What I am seeing,” I told him, “is how a lot of the evidence got ignored by the district attorney’s office, so it was more than the legal arguments, because those legal arguments were based on incomplete or faulty evidence. But maybe I’m seeing it that way because it was my uncle and I am biased.”

  His reply was swift. “You won’t find any investigator who is not biased. A detective gets a theory in his mind, and then he looks for the evidence to support it, ignoring whatever disagrees with his theory. We call that ‘tunnel vision.’ Not paying attention to evidence is rampant in law enforcement. And many times the forensic data is right there for them to see, but they don’t. I’ve watched so many cases where the science is swept aside in favor of some guy’s interpretation of the case.”

  Kolowski seemed to be talking about Suzanne’s case. Once the DA decided to go with the insanity plea, nobody bothered to follow up on the forensic evidence, which seemed pretty clear to me—and to Officer Pledger—that Suzanne could not have been the shooter. Kolowski went on without me prompting him.

  “From all the forensic evidence and court documents I’ve seen, Dorothy,” he said as I waited expectantly for the rest, “your uncle’s murder warrants more investigation and reexamination of the scientific data.”

  A couple of months later he completed a thorough analysis of the forensic data and had built a number of 3-D images of the crime scene, both using Suzanne’s “story” in one scenario, and then using the forensic evidence in another. The last thing he said to me as we tied up our business together: “After examining all the evidence, there’s no way Suzanne was the shooter.”

  Little did I know I would soon get some more affirmation from law enforcement.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  If She Did Have a Psychotic Break

  After piecing together all the police and court reports, plus interviews with over sixty people, I’ve tried to consider that maybe, just maybe, Suzanne did have a psychotic break. If so, then this is how the events would have had to go down:

  Suzanne and Vernie went out and had fun at the bowling alley on Saturday night, February 28, 1970. She was loving him and enjoying herself. Then he wanted to leave, which she didn’t appreciate, but she didn’t make a scene, until he said he was going to see his daughter, Shannon, the next day. Then she blurted out loudly, “Is there something I should know about?” He left, and she stared off into space. Then she thought it was time to go, but she was afraid to drive their brand-new car, so a married couple they knew slightly—Donald and Arlene Ace—offered to drive her home in her car, since they had come with someone else. She agreed. On the way they saw Vernie walking back downtown, evidently to pick up the car, so Suzanne wouldn’t have to try and drive it home.

  Vernie and Suzanne invited the couple inside. The husband had a beer in the kitchen with Vern, while Suzanne showed off her antiques and the downstairs renovations to the wife. The couple left. Then Suzanne ripped into Vernie about visiting Shannon and he yelled back and told her to lay off. Then she tried to calm him down and went to hug him. He teased her for being so jealous. She felt something on her back like an ice cube and pulled back and saw a cigarette in his hand, which he had stuck underneath her sweater to burn her.

  Suzanne yelled at him and he yelled back. David came home and Vernie let him in. David went upstairs to his room, got into bed, called his girlfriend, and fell asleep.

  Meanwhile, Suzanne yelled at Vernie some more about the burn, and he told her she deserved it, and how much nicer Jenylle was. Then he went upstairs, took his clothes off, and got into bed, turning on the electric blanket on her side to make the bed warm for her. It was a cold night. He was looking out for her—just like he walked back to get the car so she wouldn’t have to drive it.

  Suzanne was so overwhelmed with anger and fear that she lost touch with reality. Perhaps she thought she had been abducted by aliens that were directing her behavior. Or maybe she thought the neighbor’s dog was giving her signals of what to do. She went to the den and looked at all of the guns, not knowing anything about them. Two were in the corner on the floor, but the one on top of the gun rack—six feet seven inches off the floor—looked the most interesting.

  The aliens told her to take that one. So she pulled a chair from the dining room and climbed on it to get the heavy gun down. Then she put the chair very carefully back in the dining room, which was on the other side of the house, because the aliens told her not to leave any evidence. Since both the police and Franklin reported no sign of any furniture being moved, she must have returned it exactly, within half an inch, to its position at the table.

  Then she rustled around, looking for ammunition in two different places. It’s confusing, because Vernie had bullets for at least ten different weapons and she didn’t know an 8mm from a .357. So she tried different kinds until she found one that fit in the barrel. Problem is, there was no evidence of anyone foraging through the ammunition drawers. It must have been the aliens telling her which bullet to select. Or, perhaps, after she’d messed up the drawer, she straightened out all the ammunition so it would look as if no one had been searching there, which is not something that sounds very psychotic.

  She stormed upstairs, at the behest of the extraterrestrials, and stood in the hallway, with the gun behind her, and called out to Vernie, who looked at her. She said, “Vern, there’s something funny about that corner, have you ever noticed?” Vernie sat up, looked toward the corner. Just at that moment Suzanne picked up the gun, held it hip high, and aimed it toward Vernie’s head and pulled the trigger. POW! His head exploded and he slumped over onto the floor. Somehow Suzanne ended up with blood splatters on her body and brain tissue in her hair, even though his head exploded on the wall opposite from where she was standing.

  Suzanne dropped the gun and ran to David’s room, saying “Vernie, Vernie” and went downstairs. David followed. Suzanne said she shot Vernie, so David went back upstairs and saw the body and the rifle, which he picked up to see if it was still loaded. He cocked it and the spent shell came out, at which point David threw the rifle down and went back downstairs.

  * * *

  Second option of something like a psychotic break, or not:

  The couple that brought Suzanne home left the house around 1:20 A.M., after which Vernie and Suzanne started arguing. What’s this about Shannon, Suzanne demanded. Finally Vernie blurted out, “I can’t live like this anymore. I’m going back to Jenylle.” Suzanne started screaming at him that she’d never, ever give him a divorce, so Vernie said, “Well, then shoot me.”

  He went downstairs, got the most powerful (and complicated) gun off the highest rack, loaded it, took it upstairs, and tried to give Suzanne a short lesson in firearms. He told her to go back and stand past the doorway and he’d look away, because he didn’t want to face down the gun barrel. She backed up, held the gun at hip height, pulled the trigger, and blew off half of Vernie’s head. His instructions must have been really effective, as this was the first time she had ever held a gun, much less pulled a trigger, and the one bullet hit the target perfectly.

  Even with this scenario we still have one big problem: The blood and brain tissue ended up all over Suzanne. Laws of physics, as well as the police reports, indicate that the blood and brain were hurled in the direction away from the shooter.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  Why’d She Do It?

  If it wasn’t a psychotic break, why would she kill (or arrange to kill) Vernie and face a possible sentence of life imprisonment? Was she so certain that someone high up in the government would protect her (in a Godfather kind of way) that she didn’t have to consider a worst-case scenario? This was a woman, three-times divorced, who certainly knew
how to end a marriage nonviolently. The difference here, I think, is that Vernie is the one who wanted to move on; whereas in Suzanne’s previous relationships she was the one who installed the EXIT sign.

  Let’s consider for a moment, though, the possible rationales for her brutal act.

  1. Vernie wanted to leave her and she was not about to put up with such behavior. I’d seen her fly into jealous rages enough times to know she was capable of completely losing her composure and striking out with violent intent. A lawyer in the Washington State Attorney General’s Office told me that every death found in a domestic violence case in their state had one thing in common: The victim was trying to leave the perpetrator, trying to get out of the relationship.

  2. She wanted to be seen as a savior. Perhaps Suzanne was a sociopath or psychopath, as my psych-nurse cousin says. My research indicates one of the only ways a psychopath can feel happy is to feel esteemed in the eyes of others. Consequently, they spend a great deal of energy trying to look good, to gain other people’s admiration. During my fourteen hours of interviews with Suzanne, I found her saying lots of things to make herself look good, which, sure, we all do. But there’s a boundary beyond which a normal, non-narcissistic personality doesn’t go. For example, saying multiple times about how intelligent she was. Going on and on about her degrees, her theses, her ability to be such a wonderful mother and stepmother, her endless repetitions of how cruel my uncle was, which I surmised to be an excuse for killing him. And how many people admired her, or even were in love with her, such as her father-in-law Abraham Gast. What better way for people to think highly of a woman than to say, “She protected her son from a murder rap and pleaded guilty herself”? Thoughts similar to this are what I’ve been hearing for the past thirty-six months as I did this research. Who was offering such an explanation? Members of Suzanne’s family, as well as friends of David from his high school days. Those who echoed this sentiment always had this longing emotion in their voice, as if they were thinking, I wish someone would sacrifice that much for me, too.

  3. Suzanne had always put a lot of energy into getting her name in the newspaper and she reveled in that attention. One of the first things she did after Vernie was shot was to get on the phone and start calling lots of people, announcing, “I just shot Vern.” And then guess whose name and picture popped up in many Wisconsin papers for the next three years? Mrs. Suzanne Stordock. One of her prime motivations might have been to become the center of attention. What better way to gain notoriety than to admit to murdering your husband, who was a high-ranking state official? Later in life, she maintained being a central figure at home by becoming an invalid. The whole house revolved around her schedule, her need to eat and pee, and her aches and pains.

  Also consider that Suzanne’s own aging parents, James and Annabelle Brandon, drove thirty miles on icy country roads to visit the DA in Grant County and reported Suzanne had previously threatened to shoot her husband. They later denied the allegation (after no doubt being chided by one of their children), but I find it hard to understand why they would go to all that trouble to get to the DA’s office otherwise.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  One Possible Scenario

  Having spent almost three years reading and rereading court transcripts, police forensic files, and newspaper accounts, visiting the crime scene, spending hundreds of hours finding witnesses pertinent to related people and incidents, as well as studying police diagrams of the crime scene, I find that what actually happened that night has come into clearer focus for me. After David died, I knew the chances of me ever knowing the real truth had dissipated, but I think I have come close. I could not prove these conclusions in a court of law, but then I mostly never expected to get any legal redress.

  Suzanne had gone through three divorces already, but in each case, she was the one leaving. No husband had yet dumped her. If she had nuclear reactions when her mother-in-law talked to the former wife, what can we expect if Vernie was going to go back to that same former wife? Not only would she have been humiliated, but she would lose control of her husband and the family as it was then structured. And she would lose some of their joint assets.

  So in late February 1970, however, Suzanne had a problem. Her man wanted to leave and she could never allow it. Threats of suicide and withholding sex hadn’t worked, so what’s next? Her house had many guns, but she didn’t know how to load or shoot. And she wouldn’t even know which one to pick and maybe not even where the ammunition was. We already know from the psychiatric report that she had a habit of pitting one family member against another and that she had neurotic attachments, and she used threats to get her way. This is a woman who was skilled in manipulation—and that’s what her children were formed with. And she knew it. She knew how to control them.

  Suzanne sent Danny away for the night. Letting him stay with a babysitter in Oregon wouldn’t do, because what if he got homesick and showed up back home? So she took him to stay overnight with “loony” Aunt Sophie, the sister of her third husband, who lost his parental rights (or perhaps gave them up). This was the same Aunt Sophie of whom Suzanne spoke with derision.

  Suzanne went out with Vernie to the bowling alley and acted like nothing was wrong. She laughed; she sat on his lap. But when he wanted to leave, her cool started to evaporate and she told him “no.” He said he wanted to go see his daughter the next day. Such information would not have been welcomed by Suzanne, who managed to get Shannon taken out of Vernie’s will, as well as his life. I feel fairly confident that Suzanne liked the fact that Vernie and Shannon hadn’t seen each other for a while. When she heard him say he was going to see her, it must have whetted her ferocious jealousy.

  Suzanne had some friends drive her home, because she was afraid of damaging the new car that she and Vernie had just bought the day before. However, my psych-nurse cousin swore Suzanne is not the kind to lose control through alcohol, but would want others to think she had, especially on that night. Then she and Vernie were alone in the house. It was 1:30 A.M., exactly the time David got home, but evidently after the bar friends had gone home. Hearing David enter, Suzanne could have easily started an argument with Vernie. David went upstairs and heard them argue some more. David told the police that his parents were arguing about a cigarette burn, but that would mean the burn would have had to have been inflicted at the bowling alley, because Vernie and Suzanne had been at home with friends until just a few minutes before David arrived.

  Suzanne yelled and Vernie went upstairs in exasperation. That’s when I think Suzanne took out a cigarette, lighted it, then took off her sweater. Remember, this was a frigid Wisconsin night and people dressed warmly. Even though she told me that he burned her while they were dancing, that might have been more believable if it was mid-July, when a woman might wear a backless dress. But we’re talking about March 1, in one of the coldest states in the country. So she got the sweater off, took the cigarette, pulled one arm so that the elbow was up nearly to the shoulder, and she burned herself, being careful not to scream out from what must have hurt mightily. After she put her sweater back on, she went upstairs and slipped into the master bedroom and got a bottle of pills from Vernie’s attaché case, which was likely on one of the chest of drawers to the side of the bed Vernie slept on. This was something she’d done before, so Vernie didn’t pay attention. She walked to the closet and she quickly took off her skirt and sweater, putting on her pajamas and robe. As she slipped out the door, she noticed Vernie had taken off his clothes and was lying down to sleep.

  Suzanne went to David’s bedroom. He’d only been home a few minutes and was on the phone, sitting on the edge of the bed. Suzanne looked grim, so David hung up. (David and the girlfriend both said they talked until 2:00 A.M., but after David’s friends disavowed any knowledge of said girlfriend, I am doubting what she said.) Suzanne came and knelt before him, crying, saying, “How could he do it? How could he do it?” She kept her voice low enough so that Vernie wouldn’t hear anything and come d
own the hallway to see what the problem was. David kept asking what had happened and she finally turned around, dropped her robe, pulled down the top of her nightgown in the back and moved so close to him the burn was inches away. He grimaced and started to get angry, but she covered his mouth. “Shhh,” she whispered, adding, “Vernie said this is just the beginning. He’s going to kill me. First thing in the morning when he’s completely sober, he’s going to go and get one of his guns and shoot me in the head.”

  David argued with her. Vernie would never do such a thing. He’d never kill anyone. But she told him, “He’s fed up with having to support my three kids and having to pay for this expensive house. He’s cruel, David, cruel, cruel, and the only way he knows how to solve problems is with guns. He’s going to kill me, I tell you. And he told me he’ll kill you next, because you would be a witness.”

  “Let’s go to the police,” David suggested, but she told him no one would believe that such a heralded cop and state investigator was capable of murder. They always take the side of cops. And due to all her suicide attempts, they’d just say she was crazy. David told her they could run away, go to her brother Bob’s house, and then fly to Franklin’s in Las Vegas.

  “He’ll find me. He’ll find us. How do you think he was able to get so many convictions for those mob guys and bust that prostitution ring? Because he’s relentless. He’ll never let me go. Never. He blames me for breaking up his marriage and he has to punish me. Only you can save me, I mean us, David!”