death penalty news

June 2, 2004


CALIFORNIA:

Peterson Attorney Rips Prosecution's Case

Evidence that Scott Peterson had an affair is not evidence he killed his 
pregnant wife, his lawyer said today in opening arguments in Peterson's 
murder trial.

"He's not charged with having an affair," lawyer Mark Geragos told jurors. 
"The fact of the matter is that this is a murder case and there has to be 
evidence."

Geragos said Peterson only went on a few dates with Amber Frey, and that 
the prosecutor's theory is wrong about the two of them.

"Their theory would be that Scott didn't want to have a child," Geragos 
said. "He didn't want to have a relationship, and he was therefore going to 
chuck his entire life with Laci ... for this woman he had two dates with."

Geragos set out his case a day after prosecutor Rick Distaso spent nearly 
four hours detailing Laci and Scott Peterson's last weeks together.

Given the long media buildup to Peterson's trial on charges of killing his 
wife and their unborn son, it was difficult for the prosecution's opening 
statement to be anything but anticlimactic. Much of the most sensational 
evidence was already out: the affair he was having with another woman; the 
haste with which he sold Laci's Range Rover; and the varying stories he 
told about his whereabouts on Christmas Eve in 2002, when she disappeared.

One image that drew gasps from a packed courtroom showed the former 
girlfriend, Amber Frey, sitting on Peterson's lap as he wore a Santa cap.

The biggest emotional charge occurred near the end of Distaso's opening 
statement, when pictures of the remains of Laci and her unborn son were 
projected onto a large screen. When the bodies washed up on the shore of 
San Francisco Bay in April 2003, they had been in the water nearly four 
months. Some jurors looked away. Peterson, dressed in a tan suit, averted 
his eyes, as he did when pictures of him and Frey were shown.

There was a purpose to the recitation of events in numbing detail. There 
are no smoking guns in the case. Nor are there witnesses who saw what 
happened to Laci. The case is circumstantial, meaning the jury will be 
asked to put together all the times and dates and seemingly minor incidents 
into a story of two people's lives.

Distaso intends that when the jury does that, they will reach a guilty 
verdict. If they do, Peterson, 31, could face the death penalty or life 
without parole.

"This is a common-sense case," Distaso said at the end of his presentation. 
"I'm going to ask you to find [Peterson] guilty of murdering Laci and his 
unborn baby."

Geragos objected several times during the prosecution's remarks. In the 
past, Geragos has raised the possibility that a satanic cult may have 
kidnapped Laci.

Whether he takes that tack or not, it is likely he will call witnesses who 
claim to have seen Laci with strange men in a variety of cities.

Trying to forestall that, Distaso told the jurors that police had collected 
9,000 tips, some from other countries. Tips were still coming in, he said, 
despite conclusive proof that the bodies found near the Berkeley Marina 
were those of Laci and Conner.

"Are you going to hear that the Modesto Police Department completed a 
perfect investigation?" Distaso said. "No, you're not." But he maintained 
that if the jury looks at everything police found, they will conclude the 
right man is in jail.

 From all appearances, the Petersons were a happy young couple as Christmas 
2002 approached. They had bought a modest house in Modesto and were 
expecting their first child in February. Laci was elated, if frequently tired.

The couple perhaps lived a bit beyond their means, but nobody noticed 
anything unusual, unless it was Scott Peterson's sudden interest in 
fishing. In December, he bought a small fishing boat for $1,400, then 
bought rods and lures ? which were later found in their original packaging. 
He also bought a fishing license.

As it turned out, said the prosecutor, Peterson had begun a relationship 
with Frey in late November. The two quickly became deeply involved. 
Peterson, Distaso said, told Frey he was single and looking for a serious 
relationship. When a friend told her that Peterson was married, his 
explanation was that his wife had recently died, according to the prosecutor.

Frey, who had a child, once brought up the possibility of having more, 
Distaso said. Peterson told her he didn't want any children.

On the day before Christmas, Peterson went fishing at the Berkeley Marina, 
despite the fact that there were as many as seven fishing spots closer to home.

Asked what he was fishing for, he didn't answer, arousing the suspicion of 
investigators. Over the next weeks, police followed him as he repeatedly 
drove to the marina, sometimes in rented cars, and then drove back home.

After Amber Frey contacted police, they asked her to record phone calls 
with Peterson, which she did. Distaso played one of those calls for the jury.

While it contained no admissions, it conveyed the sense of two lovers 
cooing into the phone. The implication of all the Frey evidence was to 
provide a motive: that Peterson fell so hard for Frey that he was willing 
to kill his wife for her.

(source: LA Times)

-------------------------------------


Defense lawyers: adultery doesn't make Peterson a killer

Scott Peterson's defense lawyer attacked the case against his client 
Wednesday as flimsy and circumstantial, saying the fact that the former 
fertilizer salesman had a mistress didn't mean he killed his pregnant wife.

"He's not charged with having an affair," defense lawyer Mark Geragos told 
jurors. "The fact of the matter is that this is a murder case and there has 
to be evidence."

Geragos seized his first chance to contradict the portrait prosecutors 
painted of Peterson on Tuesday ? that of a lying cheat whose affair with 
massage therapist Amber Frey drove him to murder.

At times breaking his serious tone to pepper his presentation with jabs at 
authorities who arrested Peterson, Geragos offered innocent explanations 
for Peterson's behavior in the weeks after his wife, Laci, disappeared.

Geragos began Peterson's defense the day after prosecutor Rick Distaso used 
his opening statement to detail the lies Peterson told family, police and 
his mistress as the national media latched onto the case beginning in 
late-December, 2002. Geragos downplayed Peterson's interest in Frey, saying 
they only went out on a few dates.

"Their theory would be that Scott didn't want to have a child," he said. 
"He didn't want to have a relationship and he was therefore going to chuck 
his entire life with Laci ... for this woman he had two dates with."

Geragos characterized Peterson as a giddy expectant father who accompanied 
his wife to all her doctor's appointments.

Distaso didn't promise jurors anything about a murder weapon or an 
eyewitness to the crime, and Geragos dwelled on the circumstantial nature 
of the prosecution.

Authorities in the couple's hometown of Modesto secured more than 100 bags 
of evidence and state crime lab scientists analyzed the evidence 
exhaustively, Geragos said.

"What did they get out of all those tests? Zip, nada, nothing," he said, 
dropping a stack of papers on a table.

As he has since Peterson's arrest more than a year ago, Geragos also argued 
that authorities ignored important leads that could exonerate his client. 
Among them were homeless people who frequented a park near the couple's 
home where Peterson said his wife was going to walk the family's golden 
retriever on the morning he last saw her.

Geragos has floated a series of explanations for the crime, including that 
members of a satanic cult abducted Laci Peterson and that the "real" killer 
framed Scott Peterson after learning his alibi, which was scrutinized in 
saturation media coverage.

Instead of pursuing other promising leads, authorities "turned his life 
upside down" as they single-mindedly pursued Peterson, Geragos said. They 
leaked false claims that Peterson had a financial motive to kill his wife, 
Geragos said, and never believed his fishing story.

Peterson, 31, could face the death penalty or life without parole if 
convicted in a case that is expected to last six months.

Prosecutors allege Peterson killed his wife on or around Dec. 24, 2002, and 
dumped her body in the San Francisco Bay using a recently purchased boat. 
Prosecutors said that Laci Peterson didn't know about the boat, but on 
Wednesday Geragos insisted she had seen it on Dec. 20 ? and that witnesses 
will testify to that.

Peterson gave conflicting accounts of his whereabouts on that day and 
brushed off in-laws who were helping search for Laci Peterson, who was 
eight months pregnant with a boy the couple planned to name Conner.

The bodies of Laci Peterson and her fetus washed onto a bay shore in April 
2003, near where Peterson says he set out on a solo fishing trip the 
morning his wife vanished.

"Ladies and gentleman this is a common sense case," Distaso told jurors, 
saying they were compelled to judge Peterson guilty.

Common sense demands the opposite conclusion, Geragos countered Wednesday.

How could Peterson haul a dead body around a public marina ? even in his 
boat ? without witnesses noticing, Geragos asked. "There is no way," he 
answered.

On Tuesday, Distaso presented Peterson as a man who acted and talked guilty.

He spent much of his time on Peterson's relationship with Frey, the woman 
whom he read Russian poetry and promised "our relationship will grow" ? 
even as she was recording their telephone conversations for police. He also 
told Frey he didn't want to have children and that he was considering a 
vasectomy, Distaso said.

 From the moment Peterson called his mother-in-law on Christmas Eve and 
said he returned from fishing to an empty house, things didn't make sense, 
Distaso said.

Family members who hours later joined police to search the nearby park were 
met with what Distaso characterized as terse indifference from Peterson, 
Distaso said.

The prosecutor also ticked off what he implied was double-talk that exposed 
Peterson's duplicity.

Peterson told his mother-in-law, Sharon Rocha, that he was fishing on San 
Francisco Bay, but later told Laci Peterson's uncle and two neighbors he 
had been golfing. He also was unable to tell police what he had been trying 
to catch.

(source: AP)


=============================


ARIZONA:

Law officers intent on helping others
        
"Only thought can determine what course of action is best on any occasion; 
excellence of character has the sole but important role of making the agent 
willing to do what reason determines is the best course of action. ..." - 
J. O. Urmson    

During the month of May, we paid tribute to the many fine men and women of 
law enforcement and corrections who have paid the ultimate sacrifice, 
giving of their life to protect others. In Pinal County, 28 brave officers 
have paid this ultimate sacrifice for the citizens of Pinal County. During 
2003, 146 law enforcement officers died in the line of duty protecting 
America.

Why are people drawn to the law enforcement profession? Some may become 
officers for the excitement, some for the security offered with the 20-year 
retirement system, but most I think are drawn because they truly believe 
that they can make a difference. Police work involves boredom, suffering, 
anxiety, danger and disappointment. But it also provides challenge, 
satisfaction and success.

Our society depends on people who are committed to civility and decency, 
but not everyone is. That is why our jails are so overcrowded. Our society 
cannot defend itself. It must have people who will stand up for themselves, 
and that is where the law enforcement officers come into the picture. But 
not even the police can safeguard the ideals of civility and decency from a 
public that is determined to destroy them or lacks the courage to stand up 
for them. Recently, the Pinal County law enforcement community watched as 
two juries failed to deliver the death penalty to Nevin Garcia, who gunned 
down Deputy Jason Lopez on the streets of Arizona City on May 4, 2001.

So why do the officers, deputies and detention/correction officers do their 
jobs every day? Well for one, even when most citizens are basically 
respectful to each other and of the law, there is never enough decency, 
never enough restraint, to enable people to live well together without 
someone who can step in when civility breaks down. Thus the reason for the 
"peace officer." Someone must be entrusted to guard the public safety, to 
enforce the laws, to keep the peace and to help the helpless.

The age-old dream of living together free from tyranny is the most daring 
dream of mankind. You see we want to be free and at the same time enjoy 
security. This is the context that the law enforcement officer finds 
him/herself working in. Lawmakers sometimes present officers with 
unenforceable laws or fail to provide the funds necessary for enforcement.

The Pinal County Sheriff's Office is struggling to keep up with the 
tremendous growth of Pinal County. From 1998 to 2003, the calls for 
services to the Sheriff's Office have risen by 250 percent, but our 
staffing has not been able to keep pace. Law enforcement cannot do 
everything expected of them by everyone. But I think our deputies realize 
that they are public officers, who are sworn to uphold the public trust, 
and they do offer a great service and respect to the citizens of Pinal 
County daily.

While it is comforting to read in the news that your local deputy has 
arrested another "bad guy" in your neighborhood, much of what the average 
"peace officer" does daily is not so glamorous, but just as important to 
the person being served.

I was told recently of such an example of a deputy going out of his way to 
help a young family in need. The situation presented was a family broken 
down on Arizona 238 west of Maricopa, near the county line, and it was late 
at night. In this remote area of Pinal County there are few residents and 
even less traffic. But a Pinal County Sheriff's K-9 unit, on routine 
patrol, happened upon the vehicle. The deputy transported the wife back to 
Maricopa to get another vehicle for the family. Being that this was a K-9 
unit he could only take one person, because of his K-9 partner in the back 
seat. When they reached the residence, the second car would not start, so 
the deputy helped get it started, and then led the wife back to the 
stranded dad and child, and made sure they all got safely home. Now the 
deputy could have taken the easy way out and called for a tow truck to come 
get the family and then left, but this deputy went the extra mile to serve 
this family. This deputy didn't go out of his way for any reward. He did 
what he did because he firmly believes that he is here to help others.

I share this story with you because I believe that this is the type of 
deputy that is reflective of the men and women of the Pinal County 
Sheriff's Office.

So if you would, please say a prayer for our deputies, officers, detention 
and corrections personnel who each and every day serve and protect us. Till 
next month, be careful and safe, and God bless you and our great nation.

This column is written for Tri-Valley Dispatch by Roger L. Vanderpool, 
Pinal County sheriff.

(source: Tri-Valley Dispatch)


======================


PENNSYLVANIA:

Whatever Happened to Mumia Abu-Jamal?

The 24th of April, 2004, was a perfect day in Philadelphia for a protest 
march ? or a family reunion. As it turned out, the day's events were a 
little of both.

The tribe assembled at Malcolm X Park, a neat, green oasis in the middle of 
the West Philadelphia 'hood. There were veterans of the struggle with gray 
streaks in their beards and dreadlocks. There were younger, college-age 
folks, radicalized as much by politically-charged rap music as by actual 
movement experience, if not more so. A charter bus discharged a procession 
of colorful flags from the Latin America diaspora.

In due course, the vendors set up shop. They sold buttons, offered 
left-of-center literature (left-of-center, that is, except for the 
supporter of perennial presidential gadfly/paranoid oddball Lyndon 
LaRouche), passed out flyers and radical newspapers. A long quilt was 
unfurled along the park's fence, with patches from Mexico and Bolivia 
sporting messages like "God will rise and so will you" and "Thank God for 
MOVE". Across the street, a gaggle of men in suits looked every bit the 
part of plainclothes police officers, conferring among themselves and their 
walkie-talkies.

When the truck with the sound system arrived and got set up, the rally 
began in earnest. Hand-scrawled placards came out, encouraging motorists 
passing by to honk in support. A series of speakers lacerated the American 
political and judicial systems. Signs were passed out for marchers to 
carry, balloons were blown up for drivers to tie to their cars. All of 
their actions were unified by a simple chant: "Brick by brick, wall by 
wall, we're gonna free Mumia Abu-Jamal!" p>April 24 was Mumia Abu-Jamal's 
50th birthday. He spent it just as he's spent the last 20-odd birthdays: on 
death row at a correctional facility in Waynesburg, Pennsylvania. 
Abu-Jamal, a former Black Panther Party minister of information, was 
sentenced there in a highly controversial 1982 trial for murdering Daniel 
Faulkner, a white Philadelphia police officer. Abu-Jamal has maintained he 
did not commit the crime. Over the years, a body of evidence and a series 
of witnesses have emerged to support that claim, but the prosecution has 
fought to keep the information from getting a hearing in court. A 
procession of lawyers for Abu-Jamal has argued that the verdict should be 
abandoned because of, among other things, racist actions and statements 
during the original investigation and trial. Death warrants have been 
signed twice, but were overturned.

In the interim, Abu-Jamal has become America's most famous political 
prisoner. A journalist by trade, Abu-Jamal has somehow managed to produce a 
staggering body of commentaries and critiques of American and global 
politics, from conditions inside American prisons to the war in Iraq (one 
recent commentary noted, with no small amount of irony, that one of the 
soldiers photographed as part of the Iraqi prisoner abuse scandal was a 
prison guard at the facility where Abu-Jamal is held). Those commentaries 
held so much weight that National Public Radio signed on to air a series of 
them in the mid-'90s. But his case generates so much political heat that 
the resulting controversy drove NPR to back away from the plan. Undeterred, 
Abu-Jamal managed to get the work out in a book-compact disc package (All 
Things Censored, Seven Stories Press, 2001).

At the height of the Abu-Jamal controversy, luminaries from actor Ed Asner 
to Nelson Mandela called for a new trial that would establish Abu-Jamal's 
innocence once and for all. On the other side is Faulkner's family, still 
grieving their loss and firm in their belief that justice was done the 
first time around. They're joined in their contempt for Abu-Jamal by the 
law enforcement community, which has never had mercy for those branded as 
"cop killers", regardless of any case's particulars. Yet the allegations of 
judicial misconduct are numerous enough to fill several books, not to 
mention a 2000 Amnesty International report.

The April rally was called by his supporters as the kickoff to a yearlong 
battle for their ultimate goal: to bring Abu-Jamal home and reunite him 
with his family. But it was also their way of letting Abu-Jamal know that 
he hadn't been forgotten, and of telling Philadelphia and the world that he 
wouldn't be forgotten. Good thing too, because I needed a reminder myself.

I don't remember how I first heard about him, but I do remember covering 
his story for the Cleveland Free Times, an alternative weekly newspaper, at 
the height of attention to the case. I wrote the introduction to the 
paper's excerpt from his book Live from Death Row (Addison Wesley, 1995), 
and I wrote a couple of articles about local reaction to developments in 
his case.

I also remember going to Yellow Springs, Ohio to hear him address the 2000 
commencement at Antioch College, my alma mater. Abu-Jamal has made numerous 
commencement speeches, via recordings played over loudspeaker, and I'd bet 
that every one of them was a local lightning rod. The very thought of a man 
on death row sending the best and brightest off into the world, and that a 
college would allow such a notion to happen, seems too much for many to 
bear. News of Abu-Jamal's Antioch speech drove just about every major 
newspaper in Ohio to editorialize against it. But Antioch and the Yellow 
Springs community are far more progressive and tolerant than mainstream 
America, and have been since the school's birth in the mid-1800s.

The college made a point of its open-mindedness and fairness during the 
run-up to commencement. All of the letters of support and outrage were 
displayed in albums in the administrative building's reception area. 
Antioch saw an opportunity to use the case as a chance to explore the 
unfairness of the death penalty, and held a seminar on the morning of the 
commencement. It invited Abu-Jamal opponents to participate, but they 
declined.

I went there expecting to see something of a political media circus. 
Indeed, Faulkner's widow and fellow officers made the journey to protest 
Abu-Jamal's speech. They were heckled by some radical rabble-rousers from 
outside the Antioch community, but a team of college security personnel and 
local residents ensured that no such hi-jinks would interfere with the 
morning's main event. Faulkner's advocates were kept far away from the 
commencement address; their silent protest was all but ignored by the 
graduates.

And what exactly did Abu-Jamal tell the Class of 2000? Nothing particularly 
radical, really. There were no exhortations to off the pigs, kill Whitey, 
or overthrow the capitalist oppressor. As best as I can remember, he pretty 
much advised the graduates to live their lives with conviction, and to 
follow through on the beliefs and ideas they'd cultivated in school. The 
only thing that distinguished his speech from your standard commencement 
address was its brevity.

After the speech, I caught up with my ride back to Cleveland, and went on 
with life. As a writer and reporter, I moved on to other issues and beats. 
As a person, I got back to the business of holding down a job, raising a 
daughter, and falling asleep in front of the TV. My hunch is that the vast 
majority of those graduates can chart a similar progression: intense 
interest in all things Mumia while he was Public Enemy #1, then on to the 
next alleged bogeyman/scourge to society. Only the truest of the true 
believers, I would imagine, continue to follow his case.

At the Philadelphia rally it was clear that, for those truest believers 
(even those who weren't alive at the time of the shooting), Abu-Jamal is 
more than just a political prisoner. If anything, he borders on iconic 
status. There were signs heralding, "Mumia says, Get Out of Iraq!" There 
was a flyer announcing his support of the Global Women's Strike. One could 
argue that, until the current Bush administration and the Iraq war, 
Abu-Jamal was the only thing that came remotely close to galvanizing the 
far left and its myriad individual causes, from Puerto Rican independence 
to anti-imperialism. Such is the state of the left in America that for 
years, Abu-Jamal's case was the only thing that aroused unanimous passion. 
At least no one at the rally sported a "What Would Mumia Do?" bracelet.

An irony of the case is that it's given Abu-Jamal a broader platform on 
death row than he ever had, or might have ever enjoyed, as a free man. He 
had been an award-winning local journalist before 1982, and was well known 
for his outrage over Philadelphia's brutality against the radical activists 
of Project MOVE (Philadelphia police waged a years-long battle with them, 
culminating in the infamous1985 bombing of a street of houses where MOVE 
members lived). But he had no name recognition beyond the City of Brotherly 
Love. For that, you can thank a racially slanted trial and the vehemence of 
both his supporters and his opponents. Neither side is prepared to give an 
inch, and as long as the fight continues, as long as both sides maintain 
their emotional investment in the outcome, Abu-Jamal will be their 
touchstone for issues far greater than his individual circumstance. Their 
vehemence long ago elevated him from person to symbol, of either the 
lawlessness of American society or the corruption of American justice.

But the greater irony is that, even in the city where he lived, worked, and 
was sentenced to death, Mumia Abu-Jamal is far from the radar of the 
everyday person. As the rally began to fall into line for the march (that 
gaggle of plainclothes officers ended up directing traffic so that the 
marchers could proceed), a local candidate for state representative was 
setting up elsewhere in the park for a campaign rally. He knew the case 
well from the time of Faulkner's death, but had no idea that a rally for 
Abu-Jamal was happening that day. He'd been busy campaigning, what with the 
primary election three days away and all that.

And while hundreds gathered in support of Abu-Jamal that day, thousands had 
marched just three weeks earlier, in grief and outrage over the murders of 
more than two dozen Philadelphia children this school year. Granted, those 
murders received far more local media attention than Abu-Jamal does these 
days (which is to say, almost none). But while people can relate to 
Abu-Jamal's situation on an intellectual level, it doesn't hit them in the 
gut the way the deaths of innocent kids does. Political prisoners in legal 
limbo are tough sells, especially 20-odd years after the fact and with no 
imminent deadline for action.

That point was clear by the time the march had wound its way to a community 
center not far from where Abu-Jamal's family lives. The site had all the 
trappings of a community festival. There were food vendors, cultural 
performances, and sales of Abu-Jamal's new memoir of his Black Panther 
days, We Want Freedom: A Life in the Black Panther Party (Consortium Book 
Sales, May 2004), and other left-leaning books, CDs and T-shirts. Robert 
Bryan, his current attorney, gave an update on the motions before the US 
Supreme Court concerning prejudicial statements made by the judge during 
Abu-Jamal's trial. There was a brief appearance by Abu-Jamal's wife, and 
the reading of a letter from his son (who is also incarcerated, in New 
York). There was also a lot of solidarity bonding, faith uplifting, and 
rededication to the struggle.

But a few blocks from the gathering, a group of folks watched the day pass 
at the corner store. Further down, some men were cleaning out a house for 
renovation. A few doors down from that, someone was doing some sewer work. 
Traffic had returned to normal, as if the march had never happened. April 
24 was a momentous day for the core of Mumia Abu-Jamal's faithful, but for 
everyone else, it was just Saturday.

(source: Mark Reynolds' Column, Pop Matters)

--------------------------------------------

A woman serving a life sentence for her role in the slashing-and-beating 
death of a woman three years go now wants a trial.

Kristen Marie Edmundson, 22, pleaded guilty to her role in Shari Lee 
Jackson's death and avoided the possible death penalty at trial.

But now Edmundson says her attorney wasn't effective and that she didn't 
fully understand the consequences of the plea bargain that will keep her in 
prison for the rest of her life.

A conference on Edmundson's motion will be held Sept. 3.

District Attorney David Gorman said he's ready to take Edmundson to trial 
if she gets her way.

Authorities said Jackson was killed by Edmundson and Marie Louise Seilhamer 
after Jackson unwittingly became involved in a love triangle with her 
killers. Jackson's throat was slashed with a box-cutter.

Seilhamer, 21, was convicted at trial and sentenced to life in prison.

(source: AP / pennlive.com)


========================

SOUTH CAROLINA / U.S.:

SEEKING JUSTICE FOR ALICE DONOVAN

Pair's first victim testifies

The first victim of the crime spree of Chadrick Fulks and Branden Basham 
testified today in the state's first federal death-penalty trial, saying he 
was duped into helping the pair by Basham's plea for help over a 
broken-down car. More than an hour later, James Hawkins was duct-taped to a 
tree in southern Indiana.

Hawkins, of Hanson, Ky., testified that he was reading a newspaper story in 
November 2002 about the pair of escapees from a nearby town's jail just 
minutes before someone knocked at his door. Hawkins said he gave the two a 
ride because he believed Basham's story that he was a 16-year-old who 
needed help because his car broke down and he was worried about getting in 
trouble with his father.

Fulks and Basham are accused of abducting Alice Donovan of Galivants Ferry, 
then driving her around for hours before killing her and dumping her body, 
which hasn't been found despite scores of searches over the year and a half 
since.

Fulks pleaded guilty to eight charges last month, including a carjacking 
resulting in death and a kidnapping resulting in death, the federal charges 
for which he is facing the death penalty. His trial began Monday.

Fulks blamed Donovan's death on Basham.

Prior to today's testimony, Hawkins has said his captors did not harm him, 
and even tried to make him more comfortable when they left him duct-taped 
to a tree. Hawkins, who was clad in shorts and slippers when he was 
kidnapped, said the men were oddly polite, apologizing even as they held 
him at knife-point. One of the men gave Hawkins a coat to help him through 
a chilly night.

Hawkins freed himself after 14 hours.

(source: Myrtle Beach Sun News)

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