by Ann Rule
Although the defense had contended that Tuohmy had now regained his sanity, Savage conceded, “I’m not suggesting any more than anyone else that you should give him a verdict that will let him walk out the door. But to say you’re going to hang a mentally ill person to act as a deterrent for other mentally ill persons just doesn’t make sense.
“Do you think this man could fool doctors for nineteen years?”
It was well into Friday evening and other courthouse business had ceased when special prosecutor Paul Acheson began his rebuttal statement. It had been a long, long day for participants and spectators alike, but no one made a move to leave the courtroom.
“The test is whether Tuohmy knew right from wrong, not whether he has suffered from schizophrenia. Dr. Jarvis has told us that Denny Lee Tuohmy knows right from wrong; it simply doesn’t make that much difference to him. Mr. Savage says he cannot imagine how the defendant could fool doctors for nineteen years. He didn’t fool them. Over and over in the Army records, he is referred to as a sociopath, an antisocial personality. The record is replete with indications that this person is hostile, a bully, obnoxious, not that he does not know right from wrong.
“This man has a record of violence. He has been in Monroe Reformatory and Walla Walla Penitentiary. Gladys Bodine was trying to take away someone he loved, so he killed her. There is no evidence to support Fritz Donohue’s death as an accident. Fritz never even saw it coming. Then the defendant walked right by the body of the person he’d just shot to try to start the car.
“Of course, he has to arrange things so that Cherie won’t know. So he’ll say, ‘Just go with me to Tacoma,’ but he’s really thinking California. Just get her with him part of the way, and he’ll take care of the rest.
“Why did he buy shells for the gun, and how did those shells get from the box into the chamber?
“He wasn’t lost when he told Fritz that he was. He told Mrs. Jacque: ‘Turn left, turn right, turn left,’ right to his brother’s house. He needed a car, so he killed his best friend in cold blood. Fritz wouldn’t report him because Fritz would be dead.
“When we consider the death penalty, we have to consider the protection society needs and the question of rehabilitation, but what do the records say? ‘This man will never change.’
“He walked away from Eastern State Hospital twice. He needs the maximum security of death row in Walla Walla. Maybe he will never hang. Mr. Savage tells us he’ll appeal, and appeal, and appeal. But you can be sure of one thing. A man in the maximum security on death row will never ‘walk away’ to prowl the countryside again.”
The jury retired on Saturday evening to deliberate. Those spectators who had stayed until the end walked along the now empty marble hallways of the courthouse, their voices echoing.
It was a long night for everyone concerned. Not until after four on Sunday afternoon did the jury send word that they had reached a verdict.
Denny Lee Tuohmy was found guilty of first-degree murder in the death of Fritz Donohue and condemned to hang, guilty of second-degree murder in the death of Mrs. Gladys Bodine, and guilty of armed first-degree kidnapping of Mrs. Patricia Jacque, but he was not given the death penalty in that crime.
A heavy guard of four deputy sheriffs was prepared for trouble, but Tuohmy only smiled cheerfully upon hearing the verdicts and shook hands with his attorney. Still smiling, he was led off to jail.
The witnesses, who had been summoned from throughout the western half of the United States, returned home. Of all the principals, only Patricia Jacque still lived in the same house.
If, as the saying goes, something good comes from everything, it may be that her experience resulted in the one positive aspect of the convoluted case: Immediately after his wife’s kidnapping, Roy Jacque adopted a dependable watchdog to protect his family. Subsequently, the Jacque menagerie would include two Dobermans and four German shepherds, all trained search and rescue dogs. Jacque and his dogs, along with thirty other King County members of the Search and Rescue Dog Club, were available day and night to help law-enforcement officials in everything from finding a lost child to locating a body in a homicide case.
Although Denny Tuohmy was sentenced to die, he never came close to the execution chamber in the Washington State Prison in Walla Walla. His sentence was commuted. By the 1990s, Tuohmy’s crimes were ancient history. No one noticed when he was released from prison, and he successfully completed his parole supervision. He was finally discharged by the parole board at 4:39 P.M. on December 17, 1991, at the age of 57.
Today, Denny Tuohmy is 67. His commutation to a life sentence didn’t really mean life at all. He is free.
But Gladys Bodine and Fritz Donohue are still dead.