DNA evidence has changed the way murders are prosecuted, with forensic experts up on the stand testifying that about the odds of the blood on the victim not being the defendant’s. It’s usually in the millions to one, which also has defense lawyers changing their tactics.
Case in point, Thomas H. Mitchell Jr., on trial in Farmington, Maine, for the murder of a young mother, Judith Flagg, in her home in 1983. It’s a classic cold case, DNA evidence coming up a hit with Mitchell, already doing time for an unrelated kidnapping and gross sexual assault.
So he’s a serious dirtbag, which doesn’t make him any less entitled to a vigorous defense. DNA has made defense lawyers’ jobs a lot harder, and in this case, Mitchell seems to be a lost cause. His father owned the house before Mrs. Flagg and her family; matching DNA in semen at the scene; had an altercation with the victim’s husband (over a lamp) . Cops say he waited until the husband went to work, then talked his way into the house, where he assaulted the young mom and stabbed her to death. Her toddler was found on top of the body.
Defense lawyers I’ve known have told me they take some murder cases, not because they have a ghost of a chance of winning, but because it gets their name on the front page for a week or so. They do their best for the defendant, who, guilty as son, is convicted anyway and sent away for 25 to life, and the lawyers see a bump in their business.
In Mitchell’s case, the argument is that the evidence was mishandled, the case is too old, the DNA could have belonged to Mitchell Sr., who lived in the house at one time and could have left his DNA around. From what I’ve read, they’d have to be identical twins to have the same DNA, but whatever.
If the DNA match is a few hundred thousand to one, I’d say Mitchell has about the same chance of beating this one. But let them play this one out to the last act, when this guy will almost certainly be shackled and led back to prison. He’ll take off his suit and tie.
Maybe for the last time. Maybe not. When it comes to DNA, what goes around, comes around.
In PORT CITY SHAKEDOWN, the first Brandon Blake novel, Brandon gets a full dose of bad guys. A brawl in a funeral home introduces him to Joel Fuller, a sociopathic hustler. Fuller is fresh out of jail and determined to take Brandon out—after Fuller and his sidekick Kelvin shake him down.
Rocky isn’t a tough guy. He’s a skinny little kid with crooked glasses, and he shouldn’t be homeless in Portland, Maine. When McMorrow and Roxanne pluck him from under the stomping feet of a gang of street kids, Rocky latches onto McMorrow–and drags him into a world of murder, both old and new. Why is McMorrow protecting Rocky? The cops want to know. Why is Rocky on the run? McMorrow wants to know. Why does death follow in Rocky’s wake? Jack and Roxanne need to find out before they’re added to the list. 
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