Joseph Wambaugh - Echoes in the Darkness

“The only person in the world who can speak with confidence and know for sure that William Bradfield couldn’t walk in here and tell us where the bodies are, the only person that knows, is his partner. That’s more like a rock than a pebble.

“Now we come to Jay Smith’s car. Our last pebble. In this innocuous letter where Jay Smith had to fake a handwriting exemplar, it says, ‘Clean out the Capri. Thoroughly.’ Underlined twice. Well, we learned that on June twenty-second, 1979, Karen Reinert and her brother Michael were collecting hailstones. Karen was dressed in a scoop-neck blouse and a pair of shorts. She wore a green pin. Nothing special to an adult.

“Karen was an eleven-year-old girl. It was more like an emerald to her. It wasn’t something insignificant. It was something she prized. And on that night Karen Reinert got into the car of her mother and drove away. Into oblivion.

“There’s an old children’s story about children walking through the woods. They leave things behind on the ground so they can find their way back home. Karen Reinert on the night of June twenty-second, 1979, knew she wasn’t coming back. Either that or the force that looks after little children left something for us. Not so Karen could find her way back home, but to tell us where she went and who sent her there. The last pebble is in.

“When I stop talking, the criminal investigation into the murders of Susan Reinert and her two children will have ended. I’m asking you now to do the right thing and I think you know what that is. Thank you.”

That afternoon the judge charged the jury as to the law and their duties. As to the jury not having heard the defendant speak, he said, “Now I want to say a word about the failure to testify because that very often is on the minds of a juror. This is what the law states and I emphasize it to you. It is entirely up to a defendant in every criminal trial whether or not to testify. He has an absolute right founded on the Constitution to remain silent. You must not draw any inference of guilt from the fact that the defendant did not testify, and so I leave that with you.”

At 6 P.M. when the jury was being fed dinner, Rick Guida and the prosecution team were at Catalano’s bar. Rick Guida, after a few drinks, was telling everyone that they’d done their best but he had very very bad feelings about this juror, or that one, or another one.

Jack Holtz said, “I’m not putting myself through this craziness,” and went home to his son.

The jury reached a verdict the next morning, April 30, 1986. Reporters and spectators reassembled in the courtroom at 10:48 A.M.

The heavy security was still present. Burly men in plains-clothes sat next to Jay Smith at the counsel table, and there were more in the rear of the courtroom, and one in the reporters’ box scanning the spectators.

Pete and Dorothy Hunsberger had spent the night in Harrisburg and were present in the second row. Mrs. Hunsberger’s hands were gripping each other so hard they were dead white. The Hunsbergers had tracked Jay Smith longer than anyone. They looked as though they were praying.

After all that had gone into the Reinert murder investigation, it seemed somehow that this was just another interlude. For Jack Holtz and Lou DeSantis it didn’t seem possible that they were hearing for the last time in this case the court clerk calling all to rise in the historic way:

“Oyez, oyez, oyez, all those having anything to do this day before the Honorable William W. Lipsitt draw near and they shall be heard. God save the commonwealth and this honorable court.”

Two jurors had their arms folded. A bad sign for the defense. Bill Costopoulos slid down in his chair. He rested his head on the back. He knew something.

Judge Lipsitt said, “Good morning, ladies and gentlemen. The court has been informed that the jury has reached a verdict. Would the foreperson hand the verdict forms to the clerk, please.”

The clerk took the forms from the woman selected and said, “In the case of The Commonwealth Versus Jay C. Smith , number 1677, the charge of murder, how do you find the defendant?”

“Guilty. Murder in the first degree,” she said.

“In the case of The Commonwealth Versus Jay C. Smith , number 1677a, the charge of murder, how do you find the defendant?”

“Guilty, murder in the first degree,” she said.

“In the case of The Commonwealth Versus Jay C. Smith , number 1677b, the charge of murder, how do you find the defendant?”

“Guilty, murder in the first degree,” she said.

Costopoulos requested a jury poll and the courtroom heard “Guilty, murder in the first degree” thirty-three more times. Jay Smith didn’t so much as twitch.

When they were finished, the clerk said, “Will you please rise. Hearken to your verdict as the court has it recorded. In The Commonwealth Versus Jay C. Smith , the charge of murder, you say guilty in the first degree. So say you all?”

“We do,” they said.

Pete Hunsberger touched his wife’s arm as each count was uttered. Pete and Dorothy Hunsberger heard two additional counts of murder that no one else heard.

The lawyers immediately had a conversation at the sidebar where Bill Costopoulos reminded Judge Lipsitt that Judge Garb had precluded the penalty phase from going to the jury in the case of William Bradfield. He asked the court to adopt the same position.

Guida argued that in the Bradfield case Judge Garb had reasoned that William Bradfield was not convicted of the actual killings, but was an accomplice. Nor had the prosecution proven to the judge’s satisfaction that he had contracted the murder. In this case, Guida argued, Jay Smith was the actual murderer.

Judge Lipsitt quickly denied the request of the defense and the penalty phase was ordered to begin.

“Members of the jury,” the judge said, “you have now found this defendant guilty of murder in the first degree in connection with three cases. Your verdicts have been recorded. We are now going to hold a sentencing hearing during which counsel may present additional evidence and argument.

“You will decide whether the defendant is to be sentenced to death or life imprisonment. Whether you sentence the defendant to death or life imprisonment will depend upon what, if any, aggravating or mitigating circumstances you found present in this case.”

When the judge had finished, the moment had at last arrived. Jay Smith stood and walked tall and erect. He took the stand and sat easily. He was a bit more pale and gaunt than he had been, but at the moment looked to be in far better emotional condition than his lawyer. His eyes had all the expression of a pair of hubcaps.

“Mister Smith, please state your full name for the record,” Costopoulos began.

“My name is Jay Charles Smith.”

“Your age, sir.”

“I will be fifty-eight on June fifth of this year.”

“Where were you born?”

“I was actually born in Ridley Park, but lived all my life in Chester, Pennsylvania.”

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”

“I have three brothers living, one brother dead, and one sister.”

“For how many years were you married before your wife passed away?”

“Twenty-eight years.”

“When did your wife pass away?”

“On August seventh, 1979.”

“From the date of your imprisonment, what have you done in the institutional environment in which you live?”

“Well, I’ve been involved in a large number of activities. I don’t know whether it was you or someone else who mentioned the jailhouse lawyer. I was known more as a jailhouse guidance counselor because a great amount of my activity was helping individuals with their personal letters and personal problems.