by Burl Barer
Judge Steiner intended commencing the sentencing phase on Monday morning, giving jurors the entire weekend off. When Ladenburg and Murdach strongly pressed for continued jury sequestration, Steiner ruled that the new proceedings would begin immediately.
“This verdict will obviously be appealed,” asserted John Ladenburg forcefully. As if to demonstrate his determination, and validate his defense arguments, the following morning, Saturday, August 3, he and David Murdach launched combined strategies to overturn the convictions and rescue their clients from the gallows.
Twenty
The sentencing phase, at the outset, followed a predictable course. Mitigating circumstances intended to prompt leniency toward the St. Pierres were presented in an orderly and timely fashion. George and Carmella St. Pierre, the defendants’ siblings, a priest, and a schoolteacher with positive memories of Chris St. Pierre spoke on the brothers’ behalf. Even Mark Ericson and his father, Bill, testified that Christopher St. Pierre was a valued employee, a likable sort, and a good person. Once these obligatory and unsurprising testimonies were presented, Murdach and Ladenburg went into full-force legal action.
“Your Honor,” began David Murdach, “we have an additional exhibit which I propose we introduce, and that is the judgment and sentence of Andrew Webb where he pled guilty to first-degree murder. This exhibit has never been proposed so far in this trial. There was testimony from one of the police officers, but the jurors have never seen the actual document.”
Hultman objected. “I don’t believe it’s relevant.” The judge marked the judgment and sentence of Andrew Webb as Exhibit D1-9. “That’s admitted,” Steiner said. “Now we have two other exhibits, is that correct? Why don’t we take those up?”
The two other exhibits Murdach and Ladenburg had included a motion calling for an arrest of judgment and/or a new trial. If Steiner granted the motion, the convictions of Paul and Christopher St. Pierre would be reduced to nothing more than huge stacks of trial transcripts.
“This document,” Murdach announced, “lists some of the errors which we claim were committed during the first case involving the St. Pierres.” The other document was “a statement to the Washington State Supreme Court enumerating several additional errors which we claim were brought out in the first case.”
“The state objects,” said Hultman wearily. “They make major and grand assertions about misconduct, and it’s not for this jury’s consideration.” Judge Steiner ignored the objection; Hultman objected more strenuously. “Your Honor, they start arguing about misconduct of the prosecution, including misconduct of the prosecution in destroying evidence!” The “destroyed evidence” was Paul St. Pierre’s car—the vehicle towed, stored, and sold by Pierce County. “This court has ruled that the evidence wasn’t destroyed. How can the court permit the jury to see a document that alleges that without anybody explaining?”
“Let me tell you my reasoning,” responded Judge Steiner. “The question of what is relevant rests in this case purely within the province of the jury. The special sentencing procedure says that the jury explicitly has a right to determine what mitigating factors are relevant.”
“No,” Hultman snapped, “that isn’t the law—”
“In my judgment,” said Judge Steiner firmly, “it’s out of abundance of caution that I’m going to put it in.”
Hultman wasn’t giving up or giving in. “Your Honor, now they’re going to introduce the documents that they are submitting to the Supreme Court as issues on appeal in the other trial! And that’s going to be admitted?”
“Yes,” affirmed the judge, “it is admitted.” Hultman, incredulous, sat down. The jury returned, court reconvened, and Father Bill Bichsel of Saint Nell’s parish, the second priest speaking on behalf of the St. Pierres, took the witness stand.
“I also work with people coming out of Western State Hospital, people with emotional or mental health problems,” said Father Bichsel, who had been another occasional visitor of the St. Pierres during their pretrial incarceration. He, too, noticed Paul St. Pierre’s paranoia and hypervigilance. Father Bichsel opposed the death sentence, and over Carl Hultman’s overruled objections, he explained his reasoning. “The deaths of John Achord and Damon Wells are deeply sorrowful things, and they are tragic. At the same time, I feel that the death penalty is a very vindictive thing. It’s a very punitive thing. It no more cures the evils that we struggle with in our society than working for peace while building weapons of destruction. I do not believe the death penalty can be justified. I have my own deep convictions about that. I’d like to say in regard to Chris St. Pierre,” he added, “I think Chris’s only involvement was being there after the deaths took place, using bad judgment or whatever it is, but I believe that was his major sort of involvement.”
Detective Robert Yerbury was now a familiar face to the twelve jurors holding the power of life or death over Paul and Chris St. Pierre. Called as a prosecution witness, Yerbury’s integrity and professional knowledge were also utilized effectively by the defense. Under Ladenburg’s questioning, Yerbury acknowledged that police would never have found the knife, the gun, the bodies, or anything else had it not been for Christopher St. Pierre. He also verified that the defendant spent from 9:00 A.M. until 11:00 P.M cooperating with the police.
During David Murdach’s cross-examination, Yerbury confirmed the precise sequence of the various defendants’ sworn statements. “Chris gave his statement, Paul gave his statement, and then Andrew Webb plea-bargained and gave a statement,” recounted Murdach. “Does that sound right to you?”
“I wouldn’t argue with that,” agreed Yerbury. “I’m sure that is exactly what it was.” The detective easily acknowledged that both Paul and Chris stated emphatically that Andrew Webb chased down Damon Wells, pulled his head back, and sliced his throat.
“From those statements, obviously, there were two witnesses that witnessed a crime, saw that Damon Wells was murdered, and the person that committed the murder was Andrew Webb. Isn’t that correct?” asked Murdach. Yerbury again agreed.
“Then along comes Andrew Webb and he makes a statement against these two gentlemen and then a choice was made, a plea bargain was made, and Andrew Webb pled guilty to first-degree murder with the possibility of parole?” Yerbur y confirmed Murdach’s accurate portrayal. “That decision was made in the prosecutor’s office; you didn’t have anything to do with that?”
“No, I didn’t have anything to do with that,” said Yerbury, and he was allowed to step down.
Murdach and Ladenburg, together and separately, continually reminded the jury of Andrew Webb’s manipulations, multiple statements, recantations, mental instability, and unreliability. Andrew Webb, they essentially claimed, got away with murder. In doing so, he placed the necks of Paul and Christopher St. Pierre in a noose that was rightfully his. Of all mitigating circumstance calling for leniency, contemplation of Mr. Andrew Webb was the most compelling argument.
Carl Hultman, of course, completely disagreed. The state wanted the St. Pierre brothers hanged. That was the purpose of Hultman’s final address before the jury, and it was no surprise that he called for the gallows. Perhaps the only surprise was the honest intensity of his emotion. It was as if the entire community’s pent-up outrage erupted during his argument.
“There are just no mitigating circumstances to warrant leniency,” insisted Hultman in his final presentation. “Who made Chris St. Pierre go out and get that cement? Paul didn’t make him do that. Who went out when John Achord was to be buried? Chris—he drove himself out in a separate car. Luckily, he had, because Andrew went into a ditch and they had to move the body from one car to the other. What a bizarre scene that must have been.
“Think of the standard of conduct that these two individuals have for themselves,” he continued. “When it came down to the question of the gun being traced, they couldn’t just take that gun and drop it in the Puyallup River. They did what they did—it was horrid—digging up John Achord’s remains and behe
ading him. The testimony in this case is just awful. It’s horrid what they did to these two victims, and the pain of the families of those victims.”
David Murdach had previously called the defendants’ mother, Carmella St. Pierre, to plead for her sons’ lives. Hultman used her touching appeal for leniency to the state’s advantage. “We don’t need to call Mrs. Bitney, the mother of John Achord, who got that picture on Mother’s Day, the week before he was killed by these guys,” he said. “We don’t need to call her to testify that she loved him and wished they hadn’t killed him. We don’t need to call Mrs. Wells, Damon’s mother, to tell you the same thing about him.
“You’re not a lynch mob, and you’re not reacting like a lynch mob,” he assured them. “You’re instructed to measure and weigh the circumstances. You are to determine whether the circumstances mitigate sufficiently against the charges for which these defendants are now convicted in this case.
“You’ve convicted these defendants of murdering John Achord in order to cover up the murder of Damon Wells. Two murders. Two murders! What mitigates against that? You’ve had the evidence. You’ve heard my arguments before. What have you heard today as mitigating circumstances that balance against the way they descended upon Damon Wells, beat him mercilessly in that bathroom, dragged him out to Salmon Beach, and slashed his throat?
“They’re hostile. They’re mean. They hurt people. They don’t obey the rules of society,” snapped Hultman, spitting out unpleasant appellatives as if the words themselves soured his tongue. “What did they do to John Achord? He’s shot in the face; then they had to stab him! Paul had to stab him in the back to kill him. Two deep stab wounds, each capable of producing death—as Damon Wells received—wasn’t enough that night. What does Paul do? He puts twelve of them in this man’s back. What did you hear today that mitigates against that?
“I mean, my God, you don’t even hear an assertion of being repelled by what they were doing from either of them. Nothing! They cut off the head of poor John Achord so Paul could keep his gun! We heard a lot of short testimony this morning from people caring about Paul and Chris—family members, a priest—but you know what you didn’t hear? Did any of these witnesses say that they ever heard Paul and Chris acknowledge that what they did was wrong? Where did you ever hear them say that they were sorry for what they did to John Achord and Damon Wells?
“Your judgment is somewhat difficult, but it’s clear,” said Hultman in conclusion, “there are no sufficient circumstances here to warrant leniency. Thank you.”
Judge Steiner immediately called upon David Murdach. He cut to the heart of the issue in his opening paragraph. “This part of the proceedings is most difficult for an attorney—having the responsibility of trying to address twelve people to decide whether your client lives or dies.
“If you were to sentence these defendants to death, and that sentence is carried out, and Andrew Webb comes up and says, ‘It wasn’t true. It didn’t happen that way. I lied a third or fourth time,’ do you want that responsibility?”
Murdach then subjected jurors to a vivid depiction of the conditions at the Washington State Penitentiary. He described Paul St. Pierre being repeatedly beaten and raped by unruly motorcycle gangs, as well as making references to the stench from open toilets that permeated the sweat-soaked bedding upon which inmates sweltered in Walla Walla’s unrelenting 100+ degree heat. Life in prison was a repetitive, noisy, painful, excruciating punishment exceeding the pangs of death itself.
“If you sentence him to death, are you comfortable enough with your decision that you would attend the execution,” asked Murdach. “Death is decisive and not retrievable. To execute Paul, you would have to decide that he has no right to exist. Death is final. There is no appeal.” Murdach then reminded the jury that the prosecution must prove beyond a reasonable doubt that there is a lack of mitigating circumstances. “The defense does not have to prove any mitigating factors. The state must prove a lack of it.” The state, Murdach insisted, had proved absolutely nothing regarding a lack of mitigating circumstances. “And your only verdict,” he concluded, “can be the decision that Paul St. Pierre should receive life in prison without possibility of parole. This is not a lesser punishment, but a very serious long-lasting sentence that will be forever imposed on Mr. Paul St. Pierre. Thank you very much.”
After a short recess, John Ladenburg made his final plea for mercy on behalf of Christopher St. Pierre. “Mr. Hultman glided rather quickly through the purpose of this hearing and the instructions that the judge has given you. Really, he stood here and brought up the most horrible things he could think of, and asked for vengeance and nothing more.”
Countering Hultman’s emotional outrage, Ladenburg calmly quoted the first lines of Instruction No. 3: “ ‘The defendant is presumed to merit leniency.’ I think Mr. Hultman didn’t talk about that because the defendant does not have to prove the existence of any mitigating circumstances, nor the sufficiency of the mitigating circumstances. Mr. Hultman said, ‘Well, I see there are some mitigating circumstances,’ but now he says, ‘They’re not sufficient mitigating circumstances. ’ ” Ladenburg reminded the jury that the defendants could be sentenced to life in prison without any mitigating circumstances being proved by the defense. In fact, the defense didn’t have to prove anything—the burden of proof was on the prosecution.
One of the eight recognized examples of mitigating circumstances is extreme mental illness. “Paul is an extremely sick person,” acknowledged Ladenburg. As for his own client, Christopher St. Pierre, the law also states that another mitigating circumstance is if the defendant’s participation in a murder committed by another person was relatively minor. In other words, if Christopher St. Pierre was not the man with the gun or the knife—were he not the prime mover—that qualifies as mitigating circumstance.
Once again, Andrew Webb’s special circumstances were highlighted when Ladenburg said, “The man who committed the first murder is going to be released probably in twelve years, and Chris may never get out for the rest of his life, or he may be put to death.
“The decision here is really the choice between two horrible futures—the future of waiting on death row for a hangman’s noose, or a future of sitting in the state prison for the rest of your life.
“We are above retribution for a crime. It does no good to bring forward the pain and anguish of the various families involved here. It does no good to drag that up and throw it out to the jury. It’s a horrible circumstance, but it is not one of the facts for making decisions in this case.
“These men will be punished for the rest of their lives. They will virtually have no lives. I ask you not to put Chris to death.”
If the jurors were impressed, Hultman remained untouched. “This murder is far more heinous and serious than any other murder. Paul St. Pierre’s illness is that he’s obsessed with guns and weapons. He strikes out at innocent people, who bear him no ill will, at random, [and] with great violence, death—he kills because he suspects other people. That’s his illness. He values his gun to the point—and Chris shares this value with him—to the point of going up and beheading John Achord.”
Hultman, in his final rebuttal, asked the jury to take a good look at Paul St. Pierre. “Look at the face, and look at those eyes—after shooting John Achord, he went into Mr. Perez’s room and said, ‘Come on, Mark, you ought to come out and see this.’ What kind of illness is this? His illness doesn’t cut against a severe penalty.”
Damon Wells and John Achord were two totally innocent young men whose lives were snuffed out, Hultman told them. He again directed the jury’s gaze to the defendants. “They did it. They did it for no good reason other than violence. They seem to like violence. They seem to glory in it. The only thing they are sorry about is that they got caught.”
There would be no more arguments, rebuttals, evidence, or pleadings. The trial and verdict were over. Only deliberation on sentencing remained. “You may now retire to deliberate your verdict,” sa
id Judge Steiner. “The verdict forms, instructions, and exhibits will be brought to you.”
In less than two hours, the jury from King County reached their final decisions in the life-or-death matter of Paul and Christopher St. Pierre.
August 5, 1985
Paul St. Pierre, for the first time in months, actually smiled. His brother and he would not be hanged. The sentence: life in prison with no possibility of parole. The jury’s verdict was binding, and Judge Steiner would make it formal on September 6. St. Pierre thanked David Murdach for his fine defense, and Murdach promptly submitted a bill to the Department of Assigned Counsel for 300.25 hours at $40 per hour. Between May 20 and August 5, 1985, David Murdach had earned every cent of that $12,465.38. He had a sick client who didn’t trust him, a dreadful crime of incredible emotional content, and a prosecutor’s office, in his opinion, continually crossing the lines of professional ethics. The case was ugly, tragic, and took an emotional toll on the attorneys, judges, witnesses, and jurors.
“It was a horrible crime. It was an awful crime,” commented juror Helen Hammond. “It was a crime no one could imagine that a human being could commit. We felt that anybody who would do something like that is not normal. The majority seemed to think that [Paul St. Pierre] had a mental disturbance. That was the mitigating circumstance that kept the jury from imposing the death penalty.”
Opal Bitney, mother of John Achord, regretted that his killer would not be punished by the hangman’s noose. “I don’t know how gruesome a murder has to be before they give them the death penalty,” she said sadly.
According to juror Michael Spilila, there were two or three jurors who were adamantly for the death penalty, and an equal number against it. “Since we had to have a unanimous verdict, there was no point going any further.”