Silent Witnesses (14 page)

The police reinterviewed young Dick Sutton in the hope of getting a better description of the man he had seen. He eventually admitted that he had made up the entire story and had in
fact seen nothing. Not only had his lies wasted hours of police time, they had also made them widen their search geographically when they should have been concentrating their inquiries much closer to home.

Given the mysterious appearance of the bag and the discovery that there was no “scruffy man,” the police were forced to reconsider the possibilities. Maybe, they began to think, the killer hadn't
returned
to Helen's block. Maybe they had never left it. They began to interview the local residents. Had the Priestlys been arguing? Had John or Agnes ever mistreated Helen? Was there someone within the building that might have wanted to hurt Helen for whatever reason? Following this line of inquiry, police discovered that there was an ongoing dispute between the Donald family, who occupied the apartment on the ground floor, and the Priestlys, who lived immediately above them. Alexander Donald was a hardworking barber and his wife, Jeannie, stayed at home running the household and looking after their young daughter, who was also called Jeannie.

Jeannie Donald senior had been seen arguing with Helen Priestly on a number of occasions, castigating her for her bad behavior. Helen had certainly been known to provoke the Donalds; she apparently bullied their daughter, kicked at their front door, rattled the banister outside their apartment, and had even shouted abuse at Jeannie Donald. To get back to her apartment, Helen would have had to pass the Donald family's door. Curiously, the Donalds were also the only residents of 61 Urquhart Street who had not participated in the search for Helen.

The police began to take a keen interest in the Donald family. At the same time, they concentrated their attentions on the burlap bag in which the body had been discovered.
There were several significant details for them to go on: it had been stamped with a Canadian export mark, it had once contained flour, and it held traces of washed cinders, an unusual cleaning method that was rather old-fashioned even then. It also had saucepan marks on it, presumably from being used as a makeshift tablecloth.

There weren't many places in the city that imported flour from Canada, but strangely enough one of the only ones was a bakery close to Urquhart Road. The police spoke with the owner, who confirmed that he had received a shipment of flour in exactly the same kind of sacks; he also confirmed that a customer had asked if she could have some of them and that he had given her several. The description he gave of the woman sounded remarkably like Jeannie Donald.

The evidence was now beginning to add up; one of the residents of 61 Urquhart Road reported having heard a child scream at about 1:30
PM
on the day of Helen's disappearance, a report confirmed by a slater who had been working in the alleyway behind the block.

The police decided to search the Donalds' lodgings. They discovered nine more bags identical to the one Helen's body had been found in, each one with similar saucepan stains. The most significant evidence, however, was the small bloodstains found on linoleum, newspaper, washing cloths, and a scrubbing brush in the apartment. It was now that Sir Sydney Smith and the forensic techniques at his disposal became important to the case. When Smith tested the blood, it was found to be group O, the same type as Helen Priestly. This alone would have been damning evidence, but additionally Sir Sydney had discovered that Helen suffered from an unusual condition that enlarged her thalamus
and caused her to produce a rare bacterium. Microbiological tests found this bacterium all over the Donalds' household: on the floor, on counter tops, and on cleaning rags. Finally Sir Sydney examined the fibers of the bag and found that they contained cotton, wool, silk, cat hair, rabbit hair, and some human hair that showed indications of having been badly permed.

The Donalds were arrested and interviewed. However, Alexander Donald was able to prove beyond doubt that he had been miles away at the time of Helen's murder and therefore could not possibly have been involved. He was subsequently released and the police turned their attentions to Jeannie Donald instead. Samples of her hair were taken and analyzed by Professor John Glaister of Glasgow University. He was able to say with absolute certainty that Jeannie Donald's hair matched that found in the blue burlap sack. The evidence seemed incontrovertible: she had murdered little Helen Priestly.

It was obvious what the defense's main line of argument would be in a trial: that as a woman, Jeannie Donald was not capable of committing rape. To counter this, the prosecution had Sir Sydney carry out a further examination of Helen's body. One of the facts that had worried him during his initial examination was the complete lack of semen in or near the body. When he analyzed the bruises and abrasions more closely, he came to the conclusion that they had not been caused by a rape but rather by the shaft of a hammer or a broom handle, the chilling implication being that the injuries were carried out in a deliberate effort to create the appearance of a sexual assault.

This final discovery, in conjunction with the weight of the other forensic evidence (including the blood analysis), meant that there was no chance that Jeannie Donald would be
acquitted. She was sentenced to death, though this was later commuted to life imprisonment. She was released in 1944 and died in 1976 at the age of eighty-one, having never admitted why she had committed such a horrible crime.

But, despite continued successes, it was often still difficult to convince a confused and not necessarily well-versed public (and crucially, therefore, juries) of the worth of forensic evidence. Such evidence might add weight to a case, but without a confession, it was rarely enough to secure a conviction. This is not to say that it was not useful, of course; it was not unusual for forensic evidence to push a criminal into admitting their guilt. We might consider for example, the case of Yoshiki Hirai, a young Japanese girl who was found raped and murdered in Japan in 1928. The police soon had two suspects in custody, one of whom was a beggar with mental health problems, who soon confessed to assaulting and murdering Yoshiki. Without blood analysis, it is likely that his story would have been accepted and he would have been convicted of the crime. However, testing showed that Yoshiki's killer was blood group A, while the beggar was blood group O. The other suspect, a man named Iba Hoshi, was blood group A, however, and when confronted with this evidence, he confessed to the crime. Had he not, the chances of getting a conviction would have evaporated, since there are thousands of men with blood group A—in reality all the test did was exculpate the beggar, not implicate Hoshi, but it gave the police enough leverage to extract a confession. This lack of absolute precision would continue to limit the usefulness of serology in forensic detection until the development of genetic fingerprinting much later. Blood analysis was often still an important piece of the puzzle, but in truth by the 1950s, more
cases were being solved through the evidence of fingerprints and fiber analysis than through serology.

However, it was determined that evidence could be gathered not only by analyzing the source and composition of the blood left behind, but also by observing its position and pattern; how it splashed, dripped, splattered, dropped, and sprayed. To a trained eye, this can demonstrate how a murder or attack might have unfolded and can reveal details such as whether the victim tried to fight back or run away (see
Plate 7
). The first study of bloodstain patterns was by Eduard Piotrowski at the Institute of Forensic Medicine in Poland in the 1890s. Subsequently, in 1895, he published a scientific paper on the subject called “Concerning the Origin, Shape, Direction and Distribution of the Bloodstains Following Head Wounds Caused by Blows.”

One of the most celebrated cases in the annals of forensic science, which put exactly this kind of analysis to the test, is that of Dr. Samuel Holmes Sheppard. It became one of the most infamous and controversial murder investigations in American criminal history.

Sheppard was born in Cleveland in 1923, the youngest of three brothers. He attended Cleveland Heights High School where he was an excellent student, holding the position of class president for three years. When he left school he decided to pursue a career in osteopathic medicine and enrolled at Hanover College in Indiana, before moving to the Los Angeles School of Physicians and Surgeons where he finished his education. In February 1945 he married his fiancée, Marilyn Reese, and together the two moved to a house in Bay Village, Ohio, so that Sheppard could join his father's medical practice.

But this comfortable picture of a young couple settling down
to begin a life together was rent asunder when, during the early hours of July 4, 1954, Sheppard's wife, Marilyn, was beaten to death in the bedroom of their home. She was pregnant at the time.

Sheppard explained that, after a dinner party, he had fallen asleep in the sitting room, only to be roused some time later, believing he heard his wife call his name. He immediately dashed up the stairs and saw someone grappling with her. He was then knocked out by a blow to the head. On regaining consciousness he was confronted with the bloodstained body of his wife. He heard a noise coming from downstairs and staggered down to find a bushy-haired man making his escape via the back door. Sheppard gave chase and attacked the figure but was knocked unconscious once more. When he came around he found himself lying on the shore of Lake Erie (which the house backed onto), with his feet in the water and his T-shirt missing.

In a state of confusion, he returned to the house and, finding that Marilyn was dead, called his neighbor, Mayor John Spencer Houk, before collapsing onto the living room couch. Houk and his family arrived at Sheppard's house at around 5
AM.
Shortly afterward the police were called. They arrived with the Cuyahoga County Coroner Samuel Gerber. Gerber recorded that Marilyn Sheppard was lying face up on the bed, covered in blood and wearing just her pajama top. She had been beaten to death, struck no fewer than thirty-five times. Beneath her body a pillowcase was discovered with a bloodstain that appeared to be in the shape of a surgical instrument, though it was not possible to ascertain what sort exactly. The house had been ransacked, though strangely the intruder had taken nothing, even ignoring several hundred dollars.

Gerber didn't believe Sheppard's story; he became convinced that he had murdered his wife during an argument and then staged a break-in to cover his tracks. The medical evidence pointed to Marilyn having been murdered at approximately 4
AM,
yet at least an hour had passed before Sheppard called for help, giving him plenty of time to dispose of incriminating evidence. As a result of Gerber's suspicions, Sheppard's story was probed more deeply. If Marilyn Sheppard's attacker was a burglar who simply wanted to silence her, why would he then go on to hit her thirty-five times, continuing his assault when she was already unconscious? Why would the intruder have remained in the house after his first run-in with Sheppard?

Additionally, the Sheppards owned a dog, yet it had not been heard barking when the house was supposedly broken into. Furthermore, Sheppard said that after his second encounter with the intruder he had woken up on the beach with his feet in the water, yet there was no sand in his hair, though admittedly his clothes—which were collected by Gerber—were wet. Finally, his bloodstained watch was discovered in a plastic bag in the garden of the house.

Six days after the murder, the police confronted Sheppard with yet another seemingly incriminating piece of intelligence when they asked him if he was having an affair with hospital technician Susan Hayes. Nancy Ahern, one of the friends who had visited the Sheppards on the night of the murder, had given the police this information. Sheppard denied the accusation, but, as more information about the case began to circulate, the press started to turn against him. It was trial by media. At the inquest, Sheppard again stated that he had not had sexual relations with Susan Hayes. Unfortunately for him,
Nancy Ahern gave evidence that Marilyn had told her that she knew her husband was having an affair with Susan Hayes, and that she was convinced that he was going to leave her. The grand jury met to consider the evidence and decided that there was a case against Sheppard. He was arrested and charged with murder. It took eighteen ballots to find a jury, but on December 21, 1954, Sheppard was found guilty of second-degree murder. However, this was far from being the end of the case.

Sheppard's defense attorney, Bill Corrigan, was unhappy with the verdict and began his own investigation into the evidence. He contacted Dr. Paul Leland Kirk at the University of California, Berkeley. Dr. Kirk was an esteemed criminalist who specialized in microscopy and was appointed the leader of UC Berkeley's criminology program in 1937. He agreed to come to Bay Village and examine the evidence. His conclusions were vastly different from those of the prosecution.

It being eight months after the crime, Kirk was unable to examine a fresh scene. Instead he focused on re-creating the crime based on the patterns of blood spatters in the bedroom. There were blood spots on two of the walls, which he judged to have been caused by the battering of Marilyn Sheppard's head, while those on a third wall appeared to be spatter marks from a swinging weapon. Coroner Gerber had previously stated during the trial that he believed Marilyn had been killed by a surgical instrument. Kirk, on the other hand, concluded that the blood splatter from the weapon was almost certainly caused by a heavy object of some sort, such as a flashlight, and not by a surgical instrument. He contended that the stain discovered on the pillow had in fact been made by the pillow being folded
while it was still wet with Marilyn Sheppard's blood and was not caused by any such instrument. Considering the amount of blood everywhere else, the killer must have been drenched, yet there was no blood found anywhere on Sheppard or his clothing. Kirk also determined that the killer must have held the murder weapon in his left hand, but Sheppard was right-handed.