Strangler

by Corey Mitchell

  “When you make Felony II, there are three people to a court. When you make Felony II, you start handling murder cases. Of course there are always the bar murders and the gang murders and the murders with problems. And rape cases. So, I think when I made Felony II, I was already handling murders and aggravated robberies and aggravated sexual assault cases, and that was probably in 1989.”

  Kelly Siegler enthusiastically recalled her first murder case. “Guy’s name was Terry Gilpin. He murdered a man because they had a sexual relationship and the man was gonna disclose that they had the sexual relationship and he didn’t want people to think he was gay. So, he just beat him to death. Blood spatter case. My first dealings with blood spatter. And the cool thing was that they found a roll of film stuck under the bushes in the backyard of the dead man’s house. We developed that film and it’s all the pictures of them having sex where my defendant has a kind of dog collar around his neck and a leash and all that kind of stuff. So, you really don’t forget those pictures. And the defendant was a beautiful man, a gorgeous guy.”

  Siegler added that the district attorney’s office also sought the death penalty against Gilpin’s son, Terry Gilpin Jr., in 2004.

  Siegler was modest when it came to her record as a successful prosecutor. Her 95 percent success rate had been bandied about in the newspapers around the time of the Susan Wright case.

  “You know, I don’t know where that number came from, the ninety-five percent,” Siegler said. “But think about this—by the time you get to Felony, you’re supposed to win all of them. So, ninety-five percent really ain’t that great. Everybody should have that in Felony. Jeez!”

  Eventually Siegler made her way up the DA food chain until she hit her ultimate goal—Serious Offenders. She preferred to work the cold cases, ones that had gone unsolved for a number of years. By the time Tony Shore’s death penalty was to be tried, Kelly Siegler had worked almost fourteen cold cases, with four of those being death penalty cases.

  “I guess cold cases are just different and more challenging because they’re old and they got old because people before then wouldn’t take the charges, wouldn’t file the charges. Or, there wasn’t enough to file the charges. To sit down with these officers, which I did, you go through all those boxes. But you sit down with an offense report and you read it, and the whole time you’re reading it, you’re thinking, ‘Okay now, would this be better today? How can we tweak that or make another run at this witness or what played out with that?’

  “And a lot of the cold cases, believe it or not, in the real world, have nothing to do with DNA. It’s just other things that all the sudden make it better,” Siegler surmised. “Here’s the question with a cold case. It’s not always that they’re a whole lot better, but it’s that you read it and you know in your heart that he did it. And what are you gonna do? Let him get a way with it or give it a shot?

  “You have to ask yourself, ‘Is it good enough to prosecute, because you’ve got one shot, or are you getting too cocky?’ Making sure you’ve got the best information before going forward. But that’s the best job.”

  Kelly Siegler transitioned to cold cases in 2001. She had been a Felony chief for seven years.

  “My mom passed away and an opening came up in Special Crimes in the Major Offender Division, which is the division that works more closely with the police officers on more difficult cases. If a murder happens in Harris County, and it’s a regular ol’ murder and they know who did it right away, they just file the charges through our intake division. If it’s one that’s more complicated, more problems, it takes longer to file the charges.... They get advice from Special Crimes in Major Offenders. So I went there in ’99, started doing that work and that’s the greatest job in the world.”

  She has become best-known for the Susan Wright murder case. Even then, she begs off excessive platitudes for her work. “That was a slam-dunk case. That was just more about the sentence.”

  * * *

  Kelly Siegler practically wore both cop and lawyer hats on the Tony Shore case. Her involvement began with an e-mail from Captain Richard Holland. “It said, ‘Kelly, we have a team together of HPD guys, county guys, and cold case guys, Roger [Wedgeworth] and Harry [Fikaris], and we want you to be our go-to prosecutor. Would you be willing to do that?’ So, I’m like, ‘Heck, yeah, but let me go and make sure it’s okay with my boss, Chuck Rosenthal. ’ Chuck says, ‘Sure, y’all can have Kelly.’ So I go over there and meet with the task force.

  “At that time, understand, this case was not the whale it turned out to be,” Siegler clarified. (A whale in legal parlance usually refers to a bloated case that is easy to prosecute.) “This case was Bob King working on it for ten years, who finally got all these players involved, and, at times, there were many other suspects. They went through a lot of aggravation on this case.”

  Siegler continued, “It was all this, ‘We ain’t got shit, but we think it’s Anthony Shore. Come over and let’s strategize and come up with a plan.’ So I went over there with fifteen of the best cops you’ll ever meet. You talk about the A Team; man, it was great. Hal Kennedy, Todd Miller, Allen Brown, Swaim. Swaim is unbelievable.”

  Siegler continued, “We had this group meeting and we have a plan. I remember the Friday the plan started. I typed the first warrant when we got the CODIS hit that led to one case. We knew it led to the one and he was gonna be put through the rest, but he didn’t know, Anthony Shore didn’t know, no one knew how many we thought he was good for.”

  Siegler typed up the warrant herself, then waited. “So we’re all sitting around all day and waiting to hear and wondering, ‘Is he gonna talk, is he gonna talk, is he gonna talk?’ It’s going on five o’clock, eight o’clock, nine o’clock. All the guys are talking to him. It was just a very strange day. Now people say, ‘Goddamn, Anthony Shore. Who couldn’t try that?’” Siegler, however, understood how much work went on behind the scenes.

  Terese Buess would be Siegler’s co-counsel and second chair on the case. Siegler was pleased, because she knew the prosecutor was a stickler for details.

  “Terese got involved in the case after it became a whale because it landed in her court. We have a rule around here that death penalty cases require two prosecutors,” Siegler acknowledged. “So, it lands in her court and she becomes the second chair. In the beginning it was all about strategy and planning and luck with those guys and that’s why, I think, I was good friends with them before, through other cases, but I would do anything for those guys and they would for me, because we all know each other so well and about getting the job done.

  “But it all turned out the way it turned out because Richard Holland and John Swaim and Bob King and Todd [Miller] and Allen [Brown] said, ‘We’re gonna figure this out.’”

  Siegler also spoke about luck. “Another kind of corny thing that I believe is that when you work on a case and you have the courage to file it or work it up, you wouldn’t believe what ends up happening. They say in Major Offenders, ‘Goddamn Kelly’s luck’ and the cops say the ‘black-witch touch’ or the ‘voodoo touch,’ or whatever you want to call it, but, I swear, if you file ’em, all the sudden these wonderful things happen that make it better every time. Some new witness will pop up or DNA or some little thing will come along. I swear. I swear it happens.”

  It happened in the Shore case, according to Siegler, during the John Swaim interrogation. “When he [Shore] tells [Miller], ‘Get me some cigarettes and send Swaim back in here.’ And John Swaim went back in, I think it was one in the morning, and he just started talking.”

  As far as Siegler’s actions on the day of Shore’s arrest, she was a very busy woman. She sent Hal Kennedy out to a Public Storage facility, where Shore kept even more porno magazines. She then got together with Bob King around 11:00 A.M. to discuss the search warrant, since he was the affiant, or the person who makes an affidavit.

  “We did something kind of cool on that,” Siegler recalled. “We did an Exhibit A, which was a pict
ure of the ligature. And then Exhibit B was the picture of another ligature, to help the judge see that this was kind of odd and coincidental, to get him to sign the warrant. I thought that was kind of neat.

  “After that, it was just a question of ‘can we keep all this stuff straight’ because it was just coming in like an avalanche. Evidence. The case just kept getting more beautiful and more beautiful. Once the good luck happened, it just kept on happening. It never stopped.”

  Kelly Siegler and Terese Buess gave themselves two months to prepare for Tony Shore’s death penalty case. “Anthony Shore was really four death penalty cases, because every one of those was a capital. People say it was a whale, and it was a whale, but there was a lot of shit we had to keep straight and also think about not turning off the jury with overkill.”

  Siegler and Buess worked well together. “It was a very, very good team,” Siegler recalled. “Terese is very organized and methodical. A lot of times on death penalty cases you’re not so sure your partner is doing their part thoroughly enough. Not a problem with this case. She’s anal, just like I’m anal. But the only thing she said she really wanted to do was Selma Janske, the rape victim.”

  As far as how the two women coordinated their preparation, Siegler said, “Whenever she got ready with her final plan and I got ready with my final plan, we ran it by each other. We talk vaguely about who’s gonna go first or second, how much time we’re each going to talk and the points we want to touch on, but we don’t ever do like a dry run in front of each other.”

  Siegler explained how she has a unique reverse psychological method of picking a jury. “We didn’t want the jury to have any idea at what they were looking at, because we didn’t want them to come in with high expectations of the evidence. This is typically how I do cold cases because you want a jury sitting there saying, ‘That poor girl ain’t got shit.’ Then, when they hear the evidence, they’re pleasantly surprised.

  “Even in the opening statement, don’t let on to how much evidence you have and show your hand too early.”

  Part V

  THE STATE OF TEXAS v. ANTHONY ALLEN SHORE

  The ego is willing but the machine cannot go on.

  —Will Durant

  CHAPTER 56

  Monday, October 18, 2004,

  Harris County Courthouse,

  1201 Franklin Street,

  Courtroom #337,

  Houston, Texas.

  Kelly Siegler and Terese Buess were ready to do battle. After all the preliminaries were dealt with, voir dire, indictments, and more paper shuffling, there was nothing left to do but face the jury and lay out the evidence.

  Assistant District Attorney Siegler was given the floor for opening arguments. The seasoned trial lawyer gave out the background on Maria del Carmen Estrada; how she came to the United States from Mexico as an illegal immigrant to make a better life for herself; how she worked extremely hard to achieve that goal; how she met her untimely demise at the hands of Anthony Allen Shore.

  Siegler talked about Shore’s weapon of choice, a tourniquet. She spoke of the intimacy of killing someone with a tourniquet.

  Siegler let the jury know that there was plenty of evidence recovered at the murder scene to implicate and convict Tony Shore. She also spoke of the problems with the Houston Police Department Crime Lab and how officers used Orchid Cellmark for DNA testing and got a match on Shore.

  Siegler concluded by saying that the jury would hear the actual confession to the murder from Tony Shore’s own mouth, on tape.

  Next up was defense lawyer Gerald Bourque. He opened up with an interesting salvo.

  “The evidence in this case is going to show you that I am thankful that the Houston Police Department arrested him. The evidence is going to show that I am thankful he is off the streets. ‘The evidence in this case is going to show you that I cannot live in the free society that you live in and my lawyers live in. The evidence in this case is going to show you that I’m guilty.’”

  Siegler objected, “Judge, he’s arguing as if he’s testifying as if he’s the defendant.”

  “Rephrase your argument,” ordered Judge Caprice Cosper.

  “The evidence in this case,” Bourque started over, “is going to show that Carmen is how I knew her. The evidence in this case is going to show that Carmen Estrada got into my car. . . .”

  Siegler interjected, “Judge, I object to him arguing as if he were the defendant, as if the defendant was going to testify.”

  “Mr. Bourque, phrase in terms of third person, please?” Judge Cosper asked.

  “Yes, Your Honor,” Bourque sheepishly agreed.

  Bourque went on to paint the picture that Tony Shore and Carmen Estrada had a thing and that he did not kidnap her and that her murder should not count as a capital crime. The defense strategy was simply to prevent their client from getting the needle.

  “The evidence in this case is going to show that Anthony Allen Shore has done some monstrous, maniacal things in his lifetime. The evidence is going to show you those things, but oddly enough the evidence is going to also show you in some twist he’s not maniacal and he’s not a monster.

  “The evidence is going to show that he’s not stupid. The evidence is going to show that he’s not insane. The evidence is going to show you he’s not crazy. The evidence is going to show you how he’s not much different than we are in just a bizarre way.”

  Bourque concluded his opening by saying, “If they don’t prove capital murder, you cannot convict of capital murder.”

  CHAPTER 57

  Wednesday, October 20, 2004,

  Harris County District Court,

  201 Franklin Street,

  Courtroom #337,

  Houston, Texas.

  All in all, the state called nineteen witnesses during the trial phase, including Maria del Carmen Estrada’s father, boyfriend, and friend. They also called in Tony Shore’s second wife, Amy Lynch Shore, as well as Detectives John Swaim and Bob King.

  Kelly Siegler felt great about her next witness.

  “The state calls Katherine Long.”

  “Come on up, Ms. Long,” ordered Judge Cosper. “She has been sworn. You may proceed.” The judge nodded toward Siegler.

  Siegler smiled at her witness. “Could you introduce yourself to the jury?”

  “My name is Katherine Long,” the distinguished-looking woman said as she smoothed out her skirt.

  “Who do you work for?”

  “I work for Orchid Cellmark, a laboratory in Dallas, a private forensic laboratory. We used to be known as Genescreen.”

  “How long have you worked for Orchid Cellmark?” inquired the prosecutor.

  “A little over four years now.”

  “And what exactly do you do for Orchid Cellmark?”

  “I’m a forensic DNA analyst. Anytime there’s been any type of criminal activity that involves a transfer of physical evidence, be it blood, seminal fluid, it’s my job to identify the blood or seminal fluid.” No one on the jury batted an eye in this day and age of excessive legal-procedural television programming. “And from there, we can include or exclude someone who may have contributed to that fluid through the use of DNA testing.”

  “Have you been qualified before in courtrooms in Texas to testify in this area?” Siegler queried.

  “Yes, I have.”

  “Few or many questions?”

  “On many questions.”

  “How about in other states?”

  “Yes, in other states.”

  “Can you give the jury the benefit of your educational training and background that led to having this job?”

  “I have a Bachelor’s of Science degree in medical technology from the University of Texas at El Paso. I’ve also received graduate credit hours from the medical school in Dallas, the University of Texas at Arlington, and also the University of Virginia,” said Long, laying out her lengthy scholastic résumé.

  Prosecutor Siegler looked up and turned her head toward the jury. She
then asked, “In regard to this particular case involving a complainant named Maria del Carmen Estrada, did you receive some evidence to do some testing on, last year, from HPD?”

  “Yes, I did,” Long responded.

  “And before we get into the nitty-gritty of DNA, Ms. Long, can you tell the jury how easy or hard it is to understand all that you’re fixing to be talking about?” A couple jurors, whose heads were down, popped their faces up.

  “It’s really not that difficult.” Some of the jurors looked relieved at her response. “Basically, what we’re doing is obtaining a genetic profile of individuals, and we can then compare these profiles to other profiles.” Long had a PowerPoint presentation on hand to assist her with the narrative of her testimony.

  “And can you and I agree that during your testimony today, we’ll try to keep this as simple and as short as possible so it’s understandable to the jury?” Siegler understood what a jury wanted.

  “Yes, we will try to keep it as simple as we can,” Long agreed. Again some of the jurors smiled.

  It was of the utmost importance to Siegler to keep the jurors focused on this key testimony. She felt it best to walk them through the process beginning with the basics.

  “What is DNA?” she asked.

  “DNA is basically your bloodprint. It makes you what you are. It makes your eyes brown. It makes your hair red. It’s basically just codes for everything that you are,” Long began to explain. The jurors seemed alert.

  The prosecutor and her witness then proceeded to detail the benefit of DNA in a criminal trial. “It’s somewhat stable,” Long detailed. “It’s consistent. It’s the same throughout your body. So your fingernails will have the same type DNA as your blood cells.” The allusion to Maria del Carmen Estrada’s fingernails was apparent.