Galveston DA drops politicized prosecution against blogger

The District Attorney in Galveston has dropped online bullying charges after a local blogger was arrested at his home last week for online criticisms of a city council candidate's spouse. This wasn't a spur of the moment charging error but a big, fat public flip flop on a politicized prosecution. "Clear Lake Shores interim police Chief Kenneth Cook said his office worked with the district attorney before charges were filed," reported the Galveston Daily News.

Beaumont Enterprise argues both sides of recording confidential attorney-client communications in jail

There's an odd editorial in the Beaumont Enterprise about the Galveston County Jail ending its policy of taping inmate-attorney phone conversations. According to the Houston Chronicle, "Defense attorneys say the practice is common statewide." The Enterprise opines against the practice, favoring protection of client confidentiality, etc.. They close by pointing out that "Prosecutors wouldn't want defendants listening to their phone conversations. That right should be shared by both sides."

Then, strangely, in an argument as detailed than their own editorial judgment, they add:

ANOTHER VIEW: Continue for safety

Jail inmates need to remember an important reality: They simply do not have many of the same rights that other people enjoy. Most jails have a blanket policy of tape-recording all telephone conversations for a good reason: safety.

Jails are hard enough to run as it is. They are filled with many inmates who are dangerous or violent. Their interaction with outsiders has to be closely monitored, even with attorneys.

Prosecutors do not eavesdrop on these recorded conversations to learn tidbits they can use in court. The attorney-client conversations are simply included in the overall taping that goes on each day - again, for safety.

If this tradition is changed, what could prevent inmates from arguing that they should be able to talk to family members without being recorded? That could lead to all kinds of problems, such as inmates planning additional crimes.

This practice has not been a problem in our criminal justice system. It doesn't need fixing.

Grits finds this editorial construction fascinating: A publication basically arguing with itself, and giving its unnamed, theoretical opposition the last word. Is this a minority opinion from an editorial board member? Views expressed privately by the DA or law enforcement? Something somebody read on the Interwebs? Who knows? And what an argument, elevating this practice to a "tradition," no less!

I especially love the phony, red-herring question, "what could prevent inmates from arguing that they should be able to talk to family members without being recorded?' Uh ... perhaps the fact that attorneys engage in privileged communications with their clients while they're incarcerated and family members do not?

Grits doesn't doubt that recording attorney-client conversations in jail is common, and I wonder how often prosecutors or police sneak a listen, not for evidence to use in court but for leads, potential corroboration, etc.? Especially in high-profile cases where there's pressure to convict, but even under more workaday circumstances, the temptation to do so could be great without managerial checks, logs, etc. restricting who can access the data for what reason.

Possible false convictions from decades past

A pair of stories out this week raise questions about possible false convictions from 25-40 years ago in which new evidence points to the likely real perpetrators.

From the Austin Statesman, check out Chuck Lindell's latest offering, "Mystery filing could bolster prisoner's innocence," reporting on new evidence submitted to a closed court that may end up erasing the conviction of Michael Morton in Williamson County. Wrote Lindell:

Most of the discussion of the Travis County case took place in a closed hearing at the request of Morton's lawyers, who wanted to review the details in greater depth. A court reporter was present for the half-hour hearing, though Harle said the transcripts would be kept from public view, at least for now.

But piecing together statements the lawyers made in open court, the Travis County case appears to be a 1980s-era murder that includes DNA evidence of a suspect who matches the DNA recently discovered on a key piece of evidence in the Morton case — a blue bandanna found at a construction site near the Mortons' Williamson County home.

When Morton was prosecuted in 1987, tests on the cloth determined that the stains were human blood but could not identify who it came from.

But forensic tests conducted this summer over prosecutors' objections discovered that the bandanna contained Christine Morton's blood and the DNA of an unnamed felon with a lengthy record that included convictions for burglary and assault with the intent to kill. That man, identified from samples taken from felons and maintained on the national Combined DNA Index System, was not in prison or police custody as of last August, according to court proceedings.

The DNA evidence in Morton's case appears to point strongly to actual innocence, but Williamson County prosecutors told the court they want to re-test the evidence. (Good thing they didn't destroy it, which Williamson DA John Bradley has argued would prevent inconvenient post-conviction innocence claims like this one.) But that's not the only potential grounds for Mr. Morton gaining post-conviction relief. Yesterday in court, defense attorneys announced they'd discovered in prosecutors' old files evidence that:

suggests prosecutors hid a key piece of evidence that could have raised questions about Morton's guilt — a transcript of a police interview with Christine Morton's mother. That conversation, taped by police 11 days after the murder, revealed that the Mortons' 3-year-old son said that he saw a "monster" hurting his mother and that his father was not home at the time of the attack.

Defense lawyers didn't learn of the transcript until 2008, when it was provided by the sheriff's office under Texas open records laws.

On Monday, [defense attorney John] Raley said he found a summary of the transcript in the district attorney's files. The information gives Morton a second avenue on appeal — a violation of his constitutional right to view evidence that could cast doubt on his guilt — if his innocence claim bogs down.

Meanwhile, a septuagenarian prisoner has confessed to multiple murders committed decades ago for which at least three other people were convicted. Reported Lise Olsen at the Houston Chronicle:

Edward Harold Bell, admitted sex offender, convicted murderer and self-described serial killer, has given multiple chilling confessions from his locked prison cell of abducting and slaying teenage and adolescent girls in the 1970s, describing crimes even now unsolved.

In disturbing letters sent to Harris and Galveston county prosecutors in 1998 - but kept secret for 13 years - Bell claimed to have killed seven girls, including two Galveston 15-year-olds shot as they stood tied up and half naked in the chilly waters of Turner Bayou, according to excerpts and descriptions of Bell's letters obtained by the Houston Chronicle.

One of the men convicted of crimes Bell now claims he committed, Michael Self, died in prison two years after Bell first began sending his confession letters to prosecutors. Self was:

a League City mechanic, convicted in 1972 for the murder of Sharon Shaw. But his conviction was tainted by corrupt police officers who used Russian roulette to obtain two conflicting confessions and who themselves were later convicted of bank robbery. Self died in prison in 2000. His attorneys say he was never told of Bell's letters.

Self's case reminds me of Timothy Cole, who also died in prison before prosecutors revealed someone else had confessed to the crime for which he was convicted. But corrupt cops obtaining a confession via Russian roulette adds an even darker twist to Self's story.

At least one other case to which Bell confessed also resulted in conviction of others:

Harry Andrew Lanham and an accomplice, Tony Knoppa, were convicted in 1971 in the shooting death of Linda Sutherlin, a 21-year-old Houston woman found dead in Brazoria County. Lanham was awaiting trial for a teen's murder in Montgomery County and was considered a suspect in other cases when he was killed by police in a 1972 escape in Harris County.

No word in the story of what happened to Mr. Knoppa. Cold cases investigators in Galveston had pegged Bell as the likely perpetrator of two other murders in their county, but couldn't nail down enough evidence to bring him to trial.

These cases have a ways to go before courts grant anyone relief based on actual innocence claims, and for those convicted of the crimes Bell claims credit for, two are already dead. But in both these instances, it seems increasingly likely that the wrong people were prosecuted for offenses actually committed by others. As is so often the case, when an innocent person is prosecuted it's a double tragedy: Not only is an injustice done to them, but the guilty person remains free to commit more crimes in the future.

MORE: At the Texas Tribune, Brandi Grissom has identified the 1988 slaying which apparently matched DNA from the Morton case.