Why I Know Very Little About the Official Investigation and Prosecution - A Brief Report and a Short Interview

One area where I definitely did not have an in was the official attention paid to the murders: the investigation and prosecution. I would love to have found some old pal working behind the scenes, an ex-girlfriend able to sneak some files out, anything like that. No such luck. I know that prowling around murder scenes weeks after a crime is a poor substitute for lab reports and hard evidence, and my guesses about what did or didn't happen run well behind what we'd get from sources like grand jury testimony or official allegations. I realize this, as you can see, and I'm the first to recognize a serious failing here, that I'm obviously no Joseph Wambaugh or Vincent Bugliosi. I won't dwell on the problem, but it must be said that the strengths of what I'm able to do had better lie elsewhere.

In terms of the attention paid between hard covers to the Draft Board Murders, this is likely a temporary gap. If for no other reason, I hope my own work attracts enough interest and sales to encourage some people on the inside to speak their piece. I'd bet that whoever prosecutes this case will eventually do a book if he isn't too busy first trying to make political hay out of all the publicity by running for governor or senator or something. If the trial is sensational enough, there's bound to be more written, and an ambitious D.A. is a good shot for future author. The advances and ancillary rights will get too lucrative, not to mention that chance for him to toot his own horn loud enough to land him in a new job.

Another certain place to look for at least a chapter or two would be in the book that FBI Agent Donlon will find some ghostwriter to help him with, as his way to make those soon-arriving retirement years that much greener. Between his work on this case and what he can throw in or make up about his Patty Hearst days, Donlon will definitely be peddling his story to somebody.

In his book, you can figure that somewhere beneath the layers of FBI whitewash, there might be a lot of valuable inside stuff. Of course, it could be one big pack of lies he tries to stuff down our throats. Who knows. I'm not trying to review his book before it's written. I'm sure I'll be given that chance when the time comes. But don't be surprised if things turn out like I say.

So, my point here is that the day may still come for the close procedural studies and detailed examinations of police minutiae. By then, this book could be entirely obsolete. We shall see. I hope when that time appears to have arrived, it will be possible to consider what the people involved in propagating their versions of the story stand to gain for themselves. I have a feeling I'll be ready even then to claim my equal space on the bookshelf. Well, no use worrying about that now. I just wanted to make clear that precise information on who was where at what moment and who saw it may not be the last word on the Draft Board Murders. We are all looking for truth in our own ways, if you'll pardon the cliche. try way may be sloppier than most, but I think I've got as much of a chance as those opportunists who will someday get in their two cents worth, or whatever they'll earn. It should be quite clear by now that I'm not in this to make myself look better the way they surely will. If that was what I was trying to do, I'd already be an embarrassing failure. I don't care about that. I have my weaknesses, but I'm still delivering goods those other guys don't even know is on the truck, if you get my drift.

Along these lines, as I have been making my way through my old home town, I have had a number of seriocomic encounters with those on the sworn side of law and order. This gets to be real peripheral stuff, even by my flimsy criteria, so I'll avoid a full accounting of the sordid details. Once again I will sample briefly from the crate, and you will have to assume the remaining contents are pretty similar.

I had begun by thinking I ought to avoid all police contact. As somebody warned me, I think it was Michael during the first interview, they would have obvious interest in me once my having spoken to him at the jail with a tape recorder is put together with me being someone who had lived here himself. I'd be one of those shadowy behind-the-scenes potential coconspirators or informers, depending upon which way I went. The police so love to work with those types, at least on TV shows. While I wouldn't have minded one bit to be the recipient of police information or assistance, I had a feeling they were expecting the help to go in the other direction, so I thought it best to stay away from them as much as I could. I don't want to make more excuses like I was doing before about why I have so little of that official stuff in here, but this is yet another reason I hadn't mentioned. I didn't expect them to give anything away without my reciprocating in some manner. I was certain not to be happy about. So, my plan was to shield myself behind the First Amendment, a not entirely inappropriate strategy, given this result, even if it's stretching things to say what you're now reading in any way resembles journalism. If they were to question me, though, my reply was to be that I am just a reporter doing a job, and my interest in the case extended no further. It was a simple story, if only slightly exaggerated, and I hoped it would solve that problem nicely and neatly.

Not to digress, but I did find a certain unfairness in the quid pro quo manner of the police, or how ready they'd be to get your quid without finishing their part in the saying. The idea seemed a trifle bizarre, of their trying to find things out in order to decide what to conceal, which is basically what this investigation was all about. Where a reporter seeks information in order to reveal the truth, and is more prone to manufacturing it if he doesn't come up with enough, the police appear more likely not to know when they have useful information at their disposal, and when they do uncover important evidence, you only find out it's important because they refuse to tell about it. The flip side of that is that anything they will divulge you can be sure is of no value whatever, and is as likely to be deliberately false in order to unearth real evidence which they will then tell no one. In other words, they will keep lying until they get enough of what they think is true not to have to say anything. I know this is pretty cynical to get in so short a time, but it's another of those things where had you been here with me or instead of me, you'd probably feel even more strongly about this than I do.

As I said, not to spill open the entire crate for close individual inspection, I can give you an idea of what things look like by telling about how I was followed. That's right, tailed, under surveillance, or whatever you want to call it. Rather than coming right out and asking me questions, which as I said I wouldn't have answered anyway, they decided to keep a guy watching me. As soon as I realized that, and I did figure it out a few hours after my first visit to the jail, which was when it must have begun, I knew for a certainty that the FBI was in charge of this case and was after me and not the local law. You see, Yuba City Police or Sutter County Sheriffs would never dream of following a suspect. As I've said, in so many words, downtown Clark Street isn't exactly Wilshire Boulevard or Michigan Avenue. If somebody's behind you here, you know. If it takes you a while to discover you're being tailed, like it did me, that's because the idea is so dumb in the first place. It occurred to me that only out-of-towners would try a thing like this. Then, for the first of what turned out to be several reversals of my disgust at their apparent ineptitude, I realized the surveillance might have been so

flagrantly apparent by actual design. It could have been intended as a warning that I better watch out what I was up to, because they suspected I might be up to something and they planned to be there when it happened. So, what appeared to be their stupidity might at worst have been stereotypical cop-stuff, Then again, the obvious tail might really just be plain stupid, You shouldn't give them too much credit, either, What you see may be all that's there.

I was making no secret of my comings and goings, so I had no particular desire to "shake my tail" or whatever the appropriate parlance might be. If I did try to get rid of him, would I be reacting normally as they might want me to, or should I have only Pretended not to notice, which might also make it look like I was in a strategic deception? It was hard to play the game right when you didn't know what was subterfuge and was ineptitude, That again is a classic description of the FBI mentality as I came to see it in action.

If I sound somewhat hostile to the FBI, let me say that I arrive here with no particular prejudice, or none unusually pronounced. A case the magnitude of this one, I'd expect the FBI to be here too. It's just that the public image of the FBI is a far cry from the real live agents that might cross your path. I have found, and I admit my sample for this generalization is no more than five or six, but that FBI agents differ from other species of government bureaucrat only by the size of the gun they carry and the electronic instruments they have at their disposal. Otherwise, I'd defy you to try and tell the difference between an FBI Field Agent and an HEW District Supervisor or a Defense Department Systems Analyst. Of course I've never met either of these last two, but I bet you they'd be just the same type. We often forget what the F in FBI stands for, or the B for that matter, and anybody paid according to the GS scale is bound to have some of the Civil Service rub off, no matter how glamorous and exciting we'd ordinarily expect them to be. So, maybe it doesn't make much difference, but I've found that city police or local sheriffs department officers are much more likely to be colorful or imaginative, or even just plain friendly, than anybody working for acronymic federal agencies, whether it's the FBI, FCC, ICC, or whatever. That's more than enough on that subject. try point is simply, on the basis of what I've seen in Yuba City, the sigh of public relief customarily heard during celebrated cases when jurisdiction shifts from local to federal hands should instead sound something like a snort of' consternation, however that would sound.

As the only hard fact I have myself reported since this chapter began is that the FBI had me followed, I better start delivering the goods a little better myself or else stop being critical of them for failing to divulge what they've found out.

I guess being followed is no particularly big deal. It surprised me only in the sense it gave that there was indeed an official investigation going on parallel to my extremely informal one. Calling my own "informal" was already being too kind to myself, and theirs was less parallel to mine than considerably in front. I must say that except for the guys who would dog my steps in intervalled shifts, I had infrequent overlaps between my activities and theirs, at least so far. The people I have spoken to had usually seen more reporters than FBI agents, and had I not finally sought out greater police contact on my own, I doubt if we'd have crossed paths any further. In short, they did not give the expected impression of having gone over the town with the proverbial fine tooth comb or having left no stone unturned or whatever metaphor of thorough revelation you enjoy the most.

Instances of insufficient investigation have already popped up everywhere I have gone. Take for example the pickled finger from a couple of chapters ago, that rancid bit of potential testimony to Michael's state of mind which Sharon had destroyed in anticipation of her place being ransacked by the FBI in a mad search for any scrap of incriminating evidence. Has that feared raid taken place? Was that treasured appendage destroyed for naught? Are they so sure of a strong case against Michael that they see no need to work further? What is it that they do know that makes them so sure of themselves?

I didn't expect to have much of a chance to find out what the case against Michael consisted of. So far there had been an arraignment on the Mitchell Ferguson charge, mainly because of the wooden poles they say they found, and beyond that there's been nothing except rather tight-lipped pronouncements from the FBI Press Information Officer, who keeps saying all the usual stuff, how the investigation is on-going, and so forth. [[o comment is the answer when reporters push for details, whether others might be arrested, when additional charges will be sought, anything like that. They don't even appear interested in milking the situation for additional publicity. It's the most low-key mass murder investigation I could imagine.

Well, if that's how they're going to handle it, we shall all have to wait to find out eventually what was going on. I'm

patient. I can stand the suspense to learn what that laboratory at Yuba College was being used for, what Michael might have said to his interrogators, what these hordes of agents must have dug up before I got here. Just so you don't feel I have unfairly ignored the case against Michael for the sake of downplaying the magnitude of loss suffered by the victims. I feel obligated to include here my single successful attempt at some dialogue with an agent involved in the case. It is an interview revealing of why I won't try to do any more to involve myself with police matters, and I think there are one or two amusing enough twists to make it sufficiently interesting on its own and not simply as an illustration of a frustrating inability I experienced.

I had been told the FBI was only granting press interviews to clearly credentialed reporters from major magazines, newspapers, and network TV and radio stations. To all of them we owe the lack of material described above, but there's no need to go into that again. I heard this while having breakfast at Denny's in Marysville this morning, from a reporter with KCRA Channel 3 in Sacramento who was trying to do more of that man-on-the-street stuff that needlessly accompanies many news stories. Anyway, after mouthing a few commonplace observations about what a tragedy these murders were, I asked him after the cameras were off if he had done anything about what the FBI were up to. He told me none of the local stations he knew about had gotten much cooperation. The biggies were all handled by network reporters, whose feeds (whatever those are, I never quite found out) would get to local stations if they weren't picked up for the network evening news programs. So, unless you were Diane Sawyer or Tom Brokaw or somebody pretty high up, he told me, there was no chance to get through to them, not just to Donlon, but even for an individual interview with one of the Press Liaison officers. If you were lower down in status as a reporter, you had to settle for press conferences when they were called or just go with the wire service material. I tell the details of this only as a way of setting up for what happened later. I'm not trying deliberately to bore you to death with needless conversation-repeating, no matter how it might appear at times.

Thinking I had no chance whatever, but doing it just so that I'd be able to say here that I had tried so don't be mad that I had failed and wasn't it too bad they're like that and more along those lines, I went to the Sutter County Sheriff's Office to take a stab at an interview with a real FBI person. As I've said, this was headquarters for the investigation, as there was ordinarily no FBI presence in Yuba City. I decided I wasn't going to lie and claim I was more important than I was, I mean go in as if I were one down from Peter Jennings or next in line to take over Jack Anderson's column. I'd still be lying to them about who I am. I wasn't going to be completely honest, of course. I'd say my real name, and the little lie would be that I was sent up from Los Angeles to do a free-lance story for a local magazine which I wasn't going to name unless asked. If they did want to know who sent me, I was going to say the magazine was called Freeway Reporter, an idiotic fiction I was happy finally not to have needed

I didn't need it because for reasons then unknown to me, I wasn't given the anticipated cold shoulder. It was almost like they were expecting my visit. I was asked to write my name on a blank 3x5 slip of paper from a pile on the counter, and to please have a seat for a few minutes. I guess I was unusually obtuse in not having it occur to me that the current fellow earning his daily bread by keeping within close proximity of wherever I chose to go, that he could possibly put in a word with his colleagues at the office I was presently visiting and thereby tip off the whole deal. I really thought I could pull a sly one here. So, about five minutes later, no more than ten, I am told that Special Agent Ted Wilfling will be happy to speak with me. "Happy" she said, but I doubted it. At least he was going to speak to me, and that was more than I thought I'd be getting.

Wilfling's appearance as I was led to his office did nothing to upset my by-then established stereotype of FBI agents looking like they had all the personal charisma of patio furniture salesmen, but I have to admit it was thrill enough to be seated in a room with any of them. This is what we said to each other.

Q: Thank you so much for seeing me. Do you have any objections to my using this tape recorder?

A: That's quite all right. We've been known to use similar devices ourselves on occasion. Sometimes we even let people know we're using them.

Q: I have to say that I'm a little surprised how easy it was to get to talk to you. I had been told that because of the considerable press interest in this case that only the more important reporters were being given direct access for personal interviews, so I'm pleased you've permitted me to have this opportunity.

A: Oh, think nothing of it, nothing at all. We're always glad to do what we can to shed light on these matters.

Q: Can I ask what your role in this case has been? Are you involved exclusively with press activities?

A: Not entirely. You might say I handle that role whenever circumstances require. I've done a number of things. It would be difficult to define my role adequately. Perhaps you won't mind, and please say so if you feel I'm speaking out of turn, if I might inquire as to what your own interest in this case has been. How you came to be involved, that sort of thing. I don't want to sound overly inquisitive, you understand, but no reason to hold anything back, is there?

Q: Not at all. To be honest, this case has already had so much coverage, I'm not sure what slant I'll be able to take. I was hoping that by talking to you I'd be able to find some fresh ways of looking at what's happened here, find out what the FBI theories are, what they've been doing to investigate. I don't think that side of it has been covered very much.

A: I'll be happy to talk about that with you, but do you mind if I say you haven't exactly answered my question, which was what prompted your personal interest in the case? This would go so much more easily if we were answering each others questions, don't you think?

Q: Sorry, I didn't want to sound like I was avoiding a reply. Of course I'll tell you. If you really want to know, while I don't live here any more, I once did, back when I went to high school. When this assignment came along, I thought what a nice chance it would be to get back to the old home town, see what the place looked like these days, that sort of thing. You know what I mean?

A: Perfectly.

Q: I wasn't trying to avoid telling you that, you understand. I wanted to ask you things, so naturally I didn't start talking about myself.

A: Yes , I see, but if you are something of a native, as you're telling me, I should think you'd be in a position to assist us. Wouldn't that be your view as well?

Q: Assist you? By doing what?

A: Oh, for instance, you might be able to talk to people in a more revealing way than one of our investigators might. Not that our people aren't perfectly competent at what they do. You, however, might have more, what can we call it, access, than ordinarily we would.

Q: Would you really need me for that?

A: We wouldn't need you, need wouldn't be the word. We have our own ways of getting information from people. Asking polite questions isn't the only method to get them to talk. That route is the one least likely to cause any significant problems. For simple expediency's sake, we prefer it to all others if that should be one of our available options.

Q: Before we talk about that, would it be all right to ask you some questions? I have the feeling so far that you're the one who has been doing most of the asking. I'm supposed to be the reporter, after all.

A: We shouldn't forget our roles, should we?

Q: Exactly. Can I ask, then, what the present status of

this case is?

A: Oh, we're making headway all the time, a little here, a little there, you must know how it is. With the major suspect already apprehended, the most difficult part of our work is already behind us. Now all we have to do is attend to the many small details, the tiny gaps that must be filled.

Q: Would you say the FBI is satisfied that Michael Willetts was acting alone in perpetrating these crimes?

A: Which of us ever acts entirely alone?

Q: That's not a very responsive answer, sir. I wasn't looking for a philosophical reply.

A: Quite the tough reporter aren't you.

Q: What's that mean?

A: I mean I don't think I'm enjoying this act. I must have more important things to do than play cat-and-mouse with a fairly uninteresting mouse. You don't have to carry on this game with me any longer. I know who you are and why you're here.

Q: Oh.

A: Some answer, about what I'd expect from your type. And don't think I was doing anything besides amusing myself when I spoke of ways you could be useful to us. If we had any reason to want information in your possession, we could get it. Don't worry yourself about that for a minute. What you better worry about is your apparent failure to realize the jeopardy you have placed yourself in by coming here.

Q: You mean to see you?

A: That part is rather obvious. I was referring to your interest in meddling in any part of this, to coming back here at all.

Q: I just want to make sure I'm following what's going on here. Does this mean you're not a press information officer? You're not going to help me find out what's going on with the case?

A: If you can ask questions like that, I don't think we have much to worry about from you. But don't pretend to be more stupid than you are. That's an act that doesn't work with us. In fact, it can get us very mad, and believe me, you don't want to see what happens when that occurs. When we issue instructions, you better do it.

Q: Doesn't it concern you that I'm taping everything you're now telling me. Wouldn't it make you look bad if this got out?

A: Don't worry about us looking bad, mister. We can handle ourselves. You better begin to have concern for your own skin, which I must say you have been subjecting to considerable risk through your amateurish efforts to hang around where you don't

belong.

Q: What kind of risk has that been?

A: Simply to refresh your memory, that was a close call two days ago when the guard almost mistook you for a sniper. That might have had a tragic conclusion, might it not?

Q: Are you saying I could have been killed?

A: As you acknowledge, it was a dangerous thing to do. Hiding on that roof is not the act of a person watching out for his own welfare. I believe I've made myself clear on that point. I see no need to elaborate further.

Q: I guess there's no point in asking how you know about that incident.

A: That's the first thing you've said which makes clear sense.

Q: If you know who I am, why were you willing to talk to me?

A: Had you not come in on your own, we might well have invited you to pay us a visit anyway. This made it, shall we say, more convenient.

Q: Why should I be of interest to you?

A: You're not of much interest to us at all. Don't imagine we care to pay attention to you. We simply like to know who all the players are, and to let them know that we know. That way, should something unusual take place, no one has illusions about who will be sought. It's a simple method, almost dull, but usually effective. With a person such as yourself, the knowledge that your whereabouts while you are in this city will be attended to, is generally sufficient to keep the unpredictable from happening. You follow what I'm saying?

Q: I still don't understand what you think I might do, or why you're telling me these things.

A: Consider this a favor, if you will, or a warning, if that's how you'd prefer to see it. Either way, it's a suggestion that you make your visit a brief one. Enough has happened here, and if further investigation is required, the manpower assigned to the task presently is more than adequate to complete the job without requiring your assistance. Go back home and read about it in the newspaper.

Q: I don't see why you're even bothering me. Am I really worth that trouble?

A: Your questions are beginning to sound the same, and I don't enjoy repeating myself as frequently as you seem to. I would add that you appear not to realize entirely that very serious crimes occurred here, perpetrated by an individual you are known to have fraternized with closely and who you may still be assisting by extralegal means. If you have not committed felonious federal offenses as of yet, you appear entirely capable of doing so under circumstances you deemed suitable. When that occurs, it will now be more difficult for you to base a defense upon ignorance of the law. You are hereby warned, and I hope your recorder is operating properly, that laws do exist to insure that criminal investigations are not interfered with by persons of whatever motive, and that suspects under arrest cannot receive aid from coconspirators at large in the destruction, tampering, or manipulating of evidence, which would also include, but not be limited to, undue harassment of potential witnesses or encouragement of said witnesses to hinder law enforcement officials in the act of performing their assigned duties. Is that clear?

Q: I can't say that is, entirely.

A: Then when you get back to your motel room at the Imperial 500 Motor Lodge, you might play it back and listen to it until it does sink in. If that doesn't work, try this. We don't want you in the way, and if you persist, you have no one but yourself to blame for the consequences. Is that clearer English?

Q: I don't believe I'm doing anything illegal, and I don't see why I have to come here and be threatened and be told I may already have broken the law in some vague, unspecified ways.

A: When the time comes, we'll specify all right, don't worry about that. And don't act the innocent, injured party with me. I'm not impressed. You know what you're doing here and we know what you're doing here, so if you want to keep playing reporter or whatever false disguise you prefer, don't think it's either fooling or amusing the people in this building. And don't think it's escaping our attention.

Q: You keep hinting at terrible deeds I've committed. If you're accusing me of anything specific, I wish you'd come out and say it.

A: You wish it, do you? You keep repeating this over and over, and you still won't get a further answer from me. Just don't be stupid enough to believe we lack the resources to stay informed on your activities. We might know things you wouldn't expect, so don't believe surreptitious acts on your part will go unnoticed.

Q: Do you think I might ask some things about the investigation? Whether you believe me or not, I really am here only to find out about an old friend and to learn more about why these crimes happened.

A: You can find out about your friend at the trial, and there will be more than enough to learn about the crimes at that time. Why you believe you can or ought to do anything on your own does not concern me. try advice remains the same. This is, still a period of considerable potential volatility, and you would do best not to be here. If you choose to disregard this warning, don't try later to act the innocent bystander.

Q: Does it make any difference that I might be doing a book on what's happened here?

A: Send me a copy when it comes out. Until then, your literary aspirations are of no concern. Claiming to be a reporter has no foundation in fact, and in itself constitutes willful deception, especially when it involves communications with law enforcement agencies or other government bodies.

Q: I guess you're saying you don't like me.

A: I don't have an opinion about you one way or the other. try job would be simpler with you in another county, and that is my final word on this matter. I sincerely hope we never see each other again. The next time I'd be seeing you in handcuffs.

Q: I guess I should thank you for telling me, but it's hard to be courteous when you've just been threatened that way.

A: Then don't be courteous, just leave.

Q: Would you mind telling me why I'm still being followed?

A: We've got some new recruits we're breaking in with easy

work. Now get out of here.

I don't know if this chapter needs apologizing for. I'd rather concentrate upon getting revealing, useful information down on paper, and not waste much time over FBI threats or failed attempts by me to find things out. If nothing else, it's my own demonstration that getting the stuff I have been coming up with has not been so simple as I've made it appear. There are plenty of other horror stories along these lines, of frustrations and disappointments and wasted interview time, but it's better just to take my word for it. I'm not expecting much sympathy for my efforts, but at the same time, I'd appreciate not being taken entirely for granted. Someday, I wouldn't even mind receiving some acknowledgement for all this shit I have gone through. That's one more thing which will require patience, I guess.