KEERS: Okay. They’re rolling the film again, it just takes a second. Okay. Then we’ll get you out of here, this place here, and take you to the jail.
DAVIS: Okay, go to the first one 32. Okay, can we get you to do that? Thank you. Can you look right at me with your eyes please open? Thank you. That’s it. These marks here?
KEERS: Ahm. Aaaand let me see you hands please. You know, hold them out this
DAVIS: The mark on the wrist, is that a scar?
KEERS: It’s a scar.
DAVIS: Okay.
KEERS: These here.
DAVIS: Here, I’ll hold
KEERS: These here. Are these new marks?
KEERS: What were these? Take some of these please.
DAVIS: Okay. Just look up (camera clicking) and just look to the wall over here, okay, (camera clicking) Okay, can you just……… here. Is there something you think?
KEERS: Yeah, up on the nose.
DAVIS: Up here.
KEERS: Yeah.
RSO TECH: Okay, (camera clicking) Okay one more. Okay………… keep looking to your left over here. Thank you. Okay………… okay, (camera clicking) back?
SUFF: I don’t know………………
RSO TECH: Okay, be patient. We’re gonna take ‘em all over again. We double shoot………(camera clicking) Okay. Look to the wall…………. just a little bit turn your……..(camera clicking) Okay, thanks, (camera clicking)…………. now………..okay (camera clicking) Okay, hold your thumbs down, thank you. (camera clicking)………… (camera clicking)………..okay now… (camera clicking)………… (camera clicking) okay…………… (cameraclicking)… one of your hands (camera clicking)…… okay………… Is that your cigarette?
SUFF: Okay.
SUFF: I tried it didn’t uh,
RSO TECH: Oh yeah sure. Well, you should put your two shirts and then we’ve gotta get one with, are these your glasses?
SUFF: Yes.
RSO TECH: Okay, I wanna get one with your uh glasses on. Okay. Let’s let’s get them an’ put them on.
SUFF: Okay.
RSO TECH: Hold on, let me just get a shot at that. (camera clicking) Ahm. (camera clicking)
SUFF: Inaudible Voices
(camera clicking) Okay, (camera clicking)
KEERS: You guys Is there anything in these two pockets?
SUFF: I don’t know.
KEERS: Okay. That’s enough of the hands, you can come on.
(Inaudible Voices)
By this point in our story, you know Bill Suff almost as well as I do, so I’m going to let you come up with your own answers as to why he answered as he did during his interrogation, but notice how his lies built and twisted and folded in on themselves.
Here are some questions to ask yourself:
Why did he lie about his prison term in Texas when he knew darn well that the Riverside cops would find out all about it any minute?
When Bill admitted to “finding” Casares’ body, to taking her clothes, to removing the knife from her chest, did he really think they’d believe him? Does he think any of us believe him now, as he still maintains this preposterous story?
The central core to Bill’s defense is that he had hidden the fact that he was an ex-con, hidden it from friends, family, employer, lest they desert him, so he panicked when he “found” the body. He knew that evil cops try to frame ex-cons just because ex-cons are ex-cons and therefore disposable, and desperate cops become evil cops out of desperation, and these Riverside cops were long desperate and now turning evil.
However, the essence of what I see in all Bill’s answers is that, despite Detective Keers’ misguided “Murder, She Wrote” belief that Bill wanted to get caught and confess and unburden himself, in fact Bill never ever thought he would be singled out and accused. He knew he was innocent under the law. He was dead solid certain he’d gotten away with murder—he’d left no clues—and so he was stunned when they hauled his ass down to the station and turned on the spotlight. If he could just give them a few glib answers, then they’d have to let him go. Better to say something than nothing, because dummying up would look like covering up. The cops were all bluff and bluster—give them their due and maybe they’d cease
their inquiries. Worse come to worst, there was still no hard evidence, there was only gut-level suspicion.
On this basis, even including his lies about his Texas past, don’t you have to conclude that all Bill’s responses are consistent with the attitude of someone who believes in his own innocence? Like the cops, we read guilt into Bill’s responses because we’ve already judged him guilty, but, is his approach to his defense, his take on the truth, really any different than was my own when I was fingered by Officer Tucker? Guilty or innocent, doesn’t the instinct for survival cause absolutely everyone to hesitate and fudge and try to find a way out of the hot seat? And, when personal morality and legal morality diverge, is there any way to get at objective truth through a directive interrogation? When you tell someone you know he did something even though you can’t prove it, how does he change your mind? You can’t prove and he can’t disprove—it’s a stalemate, but it’s actually a loss for personal freedom.
Some years ago I went to Europe on lawful legal business, depositing money in a Swiss bank account for an actor-client. When I returned I went through Customs at LAX, stepping into the “Nothing to Declare” queue. The Customs Agent eyed my “Nothing to Declare” card and immediately waved me off to the side where three armed agents escorted me to a windowless cinder-block room. There I was ordered to strip down to my underwear.
I had nothing to hide but I nonetheless knew I was in trouble and I had no idea why. I couldn’t keep Midnight Express out of my mind.
Suddenly the lead agent pointed to the gold neck chain and gold hockey puck medallion I wear under my clothes for luck. “Why didn’t you declare that?” he demanded.
“Because I’ve had it for ten years and I bought it here in L.A.,” I replied.
“Prove it,” he said.
“It’s listed on my insurance policy from before I went on this trip to Europe. And the jeweler that made the puck is in Beverly Hills and can verify whatever you need to know,” I said.
“I don’t believe you,” said the customs agent. “I believe you bought this in Europe just now and you were trying to sneak it in without paying duty.”
“This is crazy—look at it—the puck’s dirty and worn down, the chain’s old and worn and welded—look right here.” I illustrated my points.
“I’m going to have to confiscate that,” said the agent. “It’s your legal obligation to have paperwork proof of origin on your person at the time you pass through Customs.”
“I’m supposed to carry around insurance policies and old purchase receipts for everything I take on a trip with me?”
“That’s the law,” he said. “I’ll need to confiscate that now. If you really do have the appropriate paperwork you can come back with it tomorrow and go to our main office.”
“And I’ll get my jewelry back?”
“Probably,” he said. “But not for certain. It will be up to the agent there to decide.”
“And my recourse?”
“You can go to court. But we resell confiscated items fairly quickly, and once they’re in the system they’re hard to track down.”