Lust Killer (27 page)

But it did.

The words would not wash over her; instead, they penetrated her fragile facade like acid eroding whatever self-esteem she had left. She would never escape them, no matter how far she went. She thought of the little childhood rhyme: "Sticks and stones … but words will never hurt me."

And all she could think of was how much words could hurt.

When it was over, Charlie Burt rose and walked to the jury rail.

"Lizzie Borden took an ax,

and gave her father forty whacks.

And when she saw what she had done,

She gave her mother forty-one. … "

The poem hung on the air.

"Lizzie Borden was acquitted of both those murders, ladies and gentlemen. Everyone connected with that old case is long dead—the judge, the jury, the lawyers, the defendant. Yet the poem remains—known to every schoolchild.
Why
? Because the public seizes upon the gruesome and the bizarre. Lizzie Borden has been convicted of those crimes by history and folklore."

Burt did not have to equate Jerome Henry Brudos' crimes with the horror of the Borden massacre. It was obvious; there had never been a more gruesome crime in Oregon crime annals than those committed by Jerry Brudos. Burt reminded the jury of the terrible photographs of Brudos' victims, photographs that could not help but revolt anyone who gazed upon them.

"Does the state want the truth … or does the state want a conviction? Is Darcie Brudos being prosecuted … or is she being persecuted? She was married—is
still
married—to this man. Does that automatically make her guilty by association?"

Burt pointed out again that Darcie had preserved evidence. He took the picture of Jerry Brudos simpering in the black lace slip and handed it to the jury. He took the other picture—the worst picture—of Jerry Brudos staring at his victim's hanging corpse, and held it out for them to see again.

"This is the face of a madman—a monster who inadvertently took his own picture. Do not convict Darcie Brudos because she is
married
to a madman.

"Take Edna Beecham out of the case … and it crumbles like a house of cards. If you
believe
Edna Beecham,
convict
. If you do not,
acquit
."

It was 4:09 P.M. on that bleak October afternoon when Judge Hay finished giving his final instructions and the jury retired to debate their verdict. Darcie was returned to her jail cell to wait. Charlie Burt had told her it might be hours—or it might be days before the jury signaled that they had made their judgment.

The jail matrons were kind to her; they had always been kind to her. Now they brought her two aspirin and a glass of milk. She had never taken tranquilizers, and she would not now. But she was afraid—more afraid than she had been throughout the trial. There were no more words to be said. Whatever would be would be.

Five o'clock. Six o'clock.

At 7:59 P.M. she heard a matron approaching her cell, and she looked up.

"The jury's back. They're waiting for you."

Judge Hay turned to the jury foreman. "Have you reached a verdict?"

"We have, your Honor."

"And how do you find?"

Darcie tried to control her trembling as she faced the jury. She could not read their faces.

"
Not guilty.
"

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

In the Oregon State Penitentiary, Prisoner 33284 was now dealing with his peers. No, that would be a faulty term; Jerry Brudos' fellow prisoners would never accept him as one of their kind. They were not constrained by the law as the detectives, lawyers, and prosecutors had been. Despite his protestations that he had been treated badly after his arrest, he had been treated with eminent fairness.

Now he was in prison.

There are social hierarchies in prison that are just as clearly defined or even
more
clearly defined than those in other communities. The vast majority of prisoners are basically decent men who have, admittedly, broken laws—but who believe in the sanctity of human life and in the protection of women and children. The upper echelons in prison society are reserved for the "brains"—the safecrackers who can "see" with their fingers, the crafty con men, the bunco artists who are charming and devious and who can sweet-talk anyone out of anything, and, of course, the "paperhangers," the forgers and counterfeiters.

Brains count inside the walls; the smart cons are the jailhouse lawyers who can give advice on how to get out, or at least how to maneuver for favors inside. They are the elite.

Jerry Brudos was smart, but his crimes had been such that they obliterated any claim he might have had to join those respected for their intelligence.

The social ladder in the joint works on down, then, based on abilities that have no meaning in the outside world. Bank robbers are considered clever if they have managed to get away with a few such crimes before they were apprehended. Burglars are above robbers—"cat burglars" getting the nod. Sheer physical strength is important. If you have no important contacts on the outside, and you're not that brilliant, you can dominate in prison just by being muscular.

Close to the bottom are the penny-ante crooks. But at the very, very bottom, according to the general prison population, are the sex criminals. The rapists. The child molesters.

And the woman killers.

Cons have women and children whom they love. And as much as they love their own, they detest the sex killer. If he did what he did to his victims, he would be capable of doing the same to their women and children.

The grapevine at Oregon State Prison had telegraphed that Jerry Brudos was coming in, whispered intelligence that works faster than anything on the outside.

They were ready for him.

A sex killer on the inside is lucky if he only gets the silent treatment. He must always be looking over his shoulder, be aware that whatever punishment he managed to avoid in society may well be waiting for him.

He may lose his mind, or his balls, or his life in prison.

There is a rule of thumb in prison: never put a woman-killer in a cell on one of the upper tiers. He may have an "accidental" fall. Jerry Brudos was housed in a ground-floor cell.

The cons gave Jerry the silent treatment, declaring him a nonperson.

When he moved through the chow lines, he kept his eyes on his tray—watching the piles of starchy stuff for which he had no appetite. Eating meant that he would have to find a spot at one of the tables in the vast hall.

It didn't really matter where Jerry Brudos chose a seat; he would be eating alone within a few moments. Some one of the other prisoners would give a slight nod, and the cons would get up en masse and move. It was an effective way to ostracize him. All the other tables would be crowded, and Jerry Brudos would be left sitting alone at a long table, as visible as if a spotlight shone on him.

Jerry Brudos lost his appetite.

The prisoner was no longer overweight. Within a short time his weight had dropped to 150 pounds. Feeling the eyes of his fellow prisoners, hearing their comments directed at him—"Something stinks, I think I'm gonna puke"; "I don't eat with no perverts"; and "Woman killer"—he could only swirl his food around his plate and wait for the bell to clang.

Before—outside—he had had so much control over people; his strength made him respected. His flaring temper frightened them. Now, no one would even talk to him, and Darcie no longer wrote to him. He listened, always, for the sound of footsteps behind him.

On August 13, 1969, someone slammed a bucket of water into the left side of his head. His ears rang from the blow, and he was hustled off to the infirmary. Doctors there found he had a mild inflammation of the eardrum, but no perforation. He complained of pain in his lower back after the incident and was taken "outside" for a visit to a chiropractor.

He was positive that they were out to get him, that somebody—maybe the whole lot of them—only waited for the opportunity to kill him. He began to keep a log recording the dates and details of crimes against him.

He also began to study lawbooks available to him in prison, confident that he would find a way to get out through his intelligence and a clever use of legal procedure.

He did not repent his crimes or grieve for his victims. He only continued to rail at the unfairness of the whole situation.

Jerry Brudos objected to a great many things. He was furious that his children had been removed from him, insisting that he
was
a fit parent, and deserved a hearing. Darcie divorced him in August 1970, changed her name, and moved away. This, too, he found unfair. He had been a good husband, and now she had deserted him. Darcie and the youngsters were together again, and she would spend the years ahead trying to forget Jerry Brudos and what he had done. Grateful to Charlie Burt, Darcie would write to him from wherever she was—letters at first, and finally only a remembrance at Christmas. The name she chose for herself and the children is a common name, and there is nothing to be gained from revealing it here. She seeks only anonymity and peace after horror.

Jerry began peppering the Oregon court system with requests and writs, documents which he wrote painstakingly in his own printed hand, following forms he found in lawbooks. His spelling was often flawed, but a faithful reproduction of his arguments tells much about the man's thinking processes.

On September 18, 1970, Brudos submitted a petition for a "Writ of Mandanus, Before the Honorable Supreme Court of the State of Oregon." He listed "exhibits" in his index, and began his seven-page argument:

Now comes the defendant/petitioner, Jerome H. Brudos, who does at this time enter before this Honorable Court, to issue a writ of Mandanus, directed to the Marion County Circuit Court, that NO later than the 15th day of October, 1970, to:

1. Issue to the defendant/petitioner, a complete, exacting and Itemized reciept, particulary describing each and every Iten removed from the defendans posession by the Marion County Sheriff's Department, the Marion County District Attorney's Office, the Salem City Policce Department, and Any and ALL other oriznations who did remove any or all property from the defendant's/petitioner's House, Garage, Outbuildings, Automobiles, and ALL other containers, On, About or After the 25th day of May, 1962 [sic].

2. To order dismissed and declair for Naught, the Judgment for the apparent amount of $8,179.00 against the defendant for totaly unsubstaincated and unfounded 'Costs and Disburshments,' against him.

3. To release immediatly all property Not Taken Upon a Serchwarrent, to the defendant/petitioner and his agent, one Ned Rawls …

—/OR/—

To order immediatly, a Jury trial as is guarnteed by the 6th or 7th Amendment of the United States Constitution, which ever shall apply, Also Artcle I, Section II or, Section 17 which ever shall apply.

Brudos then listed seventeen "authorities" he had gleaned from his research. He had forgotten the year of his crimes, listing instead 1962, but he had what he considered powerful arguments on his behalf:

—Presentment—

As can be seen from exibit 1, the Marion County Circuit Court has apparently given Judgment against the defendant/petitioner, yet the Court has ignored every inquirey, petition and ALL Requeats for information by this defendant/petitioner. This is such an obvious and flagrent, willful Violation of Constitutional Rights that it goes with [sic] saying, However, since this Court is not familiar with this case, this petitioner will attempt to lay out the full parimiters of the Case without the aid of an Attorney for the defendant/petitioner is without funds with which to employ an attorney.

There is no room for argument for the defendant/petioner has repeadly writen to the Marion County Circuit Court, the Marion District Attorney's Office seeking information and/or/ a reciept and yet nether office has responded once with so much as an acknowlegiment of reciept of the Letters, Let alone supplied any of the requested information conserning These matters.

The 5th and 14th Amendment to the United States Constitution, along with Article 1, Section(s) 10 ALL Guarntee "Due Process," but, Article 1, Section 20 goes on to guarntee that "No Court shall be secret, but Justice shall be administered openly and without purchase," yet as was seen in exibit 1, That is the only notice the defendant/petitioner, has received and then that was quite by accident out of an old newspaper, and that was after the Judgment was given. The defendant's property was confiscated, the defendent sued, Judgment given, and then a second hearing held which Judgment was given that the defendant/petitioner has no claim upon his own personal property inspite of O.R.S. 23.160 and 23.200.

What was Jerry Brudos so angry about? The state of Oregon has seized his belongings, the tools and gear in his shop, in an attempt to repay the state some of the $8,000-plus that his court costs had totaled. To Jerry Brudos, the law was there to protect him.
And only him.

To state that this Law is being used indiscrimitly would be so crass and Grossly incorrect for the facts are plain and simple, This law has been used very discrimitly and soley against the defendant/petitioner. …

He cited two pages of statutes that he felt applied to himself, and then railed at the court:

Well it goes without saying that if we convict a man of a crime, place him in jail and then stand idely by while His tools of his trade and personal property stolden systematicly and Legaly? We then must have reformed him even if He must turn to a Life of Crime for he no longer has the needed tools with which to work at his ocupation or proper clothing Etc. This further only dimenstrats the Marion County Court Attitude Twards Justice. They don't give a damn about the Laws, Constitution or anything else except, they have a helpless victim who cannot fight Back and Two Court appointed attorneys who will co-operate with the Court or the prosecution's Lest Whim.