In the MacDonald case, Marshall wrote, he found the question of whether the delay had violated MacDonald's speedy trial right to be "close." Most difficult to evaluate, he said, was the question of prejudice, but he noted that "proof of actual prejudice to the defense at trial is not necessary." The mere potential for prejudice would suffice. In MacDonald's case, Marshall wrote, the record was clear that the delay had caused "substantial" prejudice "including continuing anxiety, intrusive publicity, legal expense, and disruption of a new civilian career," and he added that the proof of actual prejudice at trial "although somewhat speculative" was suggested by the possibility that "Stoeckley's trial testimony would have been less confused and more helpful to MacDonald at an earlier date."
Marshall agreed that "the government's interest in reaching an informed decision whether to prosecute is certainly legitimate," but said, "vague, unexplained references to internal disagreement about prosecution cannot justify more than two years of indecision."
It was, however, once again, the majority opinion which had the force of law and within an hour of its announcement Judge Franklin T. Dupree, Jr., had signed an order revoking MacDonald's bail and federal agents descended upon 16052 Mariner Drive and took him away in handcuffs as a stunned and tearful Randi Dee Mark with stood watching.
He entered the back seat not of a long white limousine as he had just one week earlier, but of a plain gray sedan. And this time, coming out of the Mariner Drive condominium complex, the car turned not left down the Pacific Coast Highway toward Balboa Island, but right, toward the Federal Correctional Institution at Terminal Island from the confines of which Jeffrey MacDonald had enjoyed more than eighteen months of freedom.
During the process of arrest, agents discovered a .44 magnum revolver—the most powerful handgun manufactured in the United States—and a box of ammunition in a nightstand next to his bed. The possession of such a weapon was a violation of the terms of MacDonald's bail, but insofar as he was once again serving three consecutive life sentences for murder, the point was moot. Perhaps, however, Freddy Kassab's repeated threats to "administer justice" personally had not fallen upon entirely deaf ears.
During his first week back in prison, MacDonald wrote me to say that he'd read in the Los Angeles Times that Robert Redford was looking for new material and he suggested that Redford be approached about the possibility of playing the role of MacDonald in a movie version of the story.
In June, the Fourth Circuit Court of Appeals heard oral argument on MacDonald's remaining points of appeal.
On July 12 he wrote to say that "despite a chipped toe & sprained ankle (football) I won the July 4th 3-mile run here. Ran a great tactical race & dogged this 22 year old Indian for 17 laps (2 steps behind him)—burst past him with 50 yards to go. Won 6 Cokes and a trophy. Time: 19:51."
Four days later he wrote to say that he had just read the transcripts of the oral arguments made in Richmond in June. "No question—we've won. Only question is if there will be a new trial or complete dismissal."
On August 16, however, the same three-judge panel that had ruled in MacDonald's favor on the speedy trial issue found unanimously that the trial had been error-free and that there was "ample warrant" for the verdict.
Even Justice Murnaghan concurred, "albeit not without substantial misgiving," particularly in regard to Judge Dupree's ruling on the Stoeckley witnesses.
"My view," he wrote, "is that the testimony should have been admitted. If such evidence was not persuasive, which is what the government esentially contends in saying that it was untrustworthy, the jury . . . would not have been misled by it."
In the end, however, Murnaghan stated that it would undermine the concept of trial court discretion "were courts of appeal to label as 'abuse of discretion' any action by a district court with which the appellate court disagrees."
Murnaghan concluded his separate but concurring opinion with the statement. "The case provokes a strong uneasiness in me. The crimes were base and horrid and whoever commited them richly deserves severe punishment. The evidence was sufficient to sustain the findings of guilt beyond a reasonable doubt. Still, the way in which a finding of guilt is reached is, in our enduring system of law, at least as important as the finding of guilt itself. I believe MacDonald would have had a fairer trial if the Stoeckley-related testimony had been admitted."
Randi Dee Markwith remained in residence at 16052 Mariner Drive. In the return address on mail she sent out she signed herself as "Mrs. Randi MacDonald." On August 31 she sent me a note which said:
I've enclosed some letters that I've written to Jeff & visa [sic] versa. Jeff asked me to send you some, so you could better understand the intense and very beautiful love that Jeff & I share. I've also enclosed a contract which was drawn up by the two of us, and worded by Jeff. It is very meaningful to both of us and it is something that we read often.
In an eleven-page letter within six days after his appeal for a new trial had been unanimously rejected in Richmond, MacDonald had said to his fiancee:
I'm strong and logical and have taken stock in our resources and I feel & believe and know that I (we?) will win. I don't know how soon, how, why, any more, but I will win. I will be free. How "vindicated" I'll be, I don't know, that depends on so many things. It depends on P.R., the new evidence, the strength of my lawyers, investigators, me. It depends on chance (a new witness being found); luck; friends (a pardon?) . . .
Vindication can come in many ways—it may be sudden, full, complete. It may be partial in the courts or thru P.R. or thru the book or movie. It may be thru a pardon. I don't know. Can't tell—but I will win, I will be out, I will fight until that is so. . . .
The "contract" was dated April 12, 1982, which meant that it had been composed less than two weeks after MacDonald's return to prison. In Jeffrey MacDonald's handwriting—the same hand that had written of Eskatrol twelve years earlier; the same hand which a jury believed had written the word PIG, in Colette's blood, on the headboard of the bed they had shared—the "contract" said:
We, the undersigned, are deeply in love and have agreed to become man and wife forever. We both fully intend for this complete union to occur as soon as it is possible to do so. We both fully intend to have 2 children within our first several years together in order that our children can enjoy our intense love and benefit therefrom as much as possible.
In addition to the above, the undersigned have fully discussed and mutually agree upon another series of binding promises to each other. These promises are part of, but not the total sum of our complete love for each other. These promises were made on or about our fabulous weekend in Palm Springs, during which Jeffrey Robert MacDonald proposed to and was accepted by Randi Dee, the date of which began on Saturday, March 20, in the year of our Lord, 1982. The engagement followed as soon as was humanly possible, namely on March 24, 1982, in a ceremony and gathering of mutual friends, that, by general consensus, was a party of all-time grace, elegance and beauty. The series of binding promises to each other made on that fabulous weekend leading to the engagement party consist of:
Neither party, namely JRM or RDM, will ever go to bed and sleep angry at the partner. Each partner promises to clear the problem prior to sleep, even to the extent of awakening the other partner and talking thru the night to accomplish the goal of renewing the full feelings of love and respect.
Each partner will always make every effort to be home every night with his/her loved partner/friend/lover/spouse. In the unfortunate event that either partner cannot be home, every effort will be made to call the other partner & say 'I love you.'
(3) Each partner agrees, fully, that if one partner asks a
question, a truthful and full answer will be given by the other partner. Each partner agrees that the love shared is so great and so intense that it can overcome any problems that may arise by a full and truthful answer.
Each partner in this lifelong contract of love and fidelity agrees that the single most important thing and per
son in the world is their respective partner.
Furthermore, each loving partner agrees that our children are part of our love and will share in our love and happiness and growth; and that our loved children are a major part of our universe and will assume a position of importance in our family superseded only by our incredible love for each other, a love so great that it is awesome to both us and observers.
The children, they had decided, were both going to be boys.
Following the decision of the appeals court, Jeffrey MacDonald was transferred from Terminal Island to the higher-security federal prison at Lompoc, California. One day, not long afterward, Randi Dee Markwith, having become a stewardess for Pacific Southwest Airlines, paid him a visit to inform him that the engagement was off. She moved out of 16052 Mariner Drive. MacDonald's mother began to clear his personal belongings from the apartment in order that it might be sold. The condominium at Mammoth Mountain was also put up for sale, as were the Recovery Room and the Jaguar.
After six weeks at Lompoc, MacDonald was transferred to the Federal Correctional Institution at Bastrop, Texas, to serve the remainder of his term.
Vowing to fight on, he dismissed Bernie Segal as chief counsel and hired a new lawyer from Santa Monica. He also hired a new private investigator from New York City.
Helena Stoeckley, having recanted her recantation, reconfessed in front of television cameras provided by a program called Jack Anderson Confidential. From prison, MacDonald urged his new lawyer to explore the possibility of gaining for him a presidential pardon.
"President Reagan,’’ he wrote, "2 pronged attack, orchestrated carefully." He suggested that Reagan could be approached either through Jack Anderson, who seemed obviously sympathetic to the cause (if not terribly well informed about the facts) or through the new governor of California, George Deukmejian, who was said to be a friend of Whitey Littlefield's, the beer distributor from Long Beach, and fellow honorary member of the Long Beach Police Officers Association.
From Bastrop, in central Texas, about thirty miles east of Austin, he wrote his new attorney a letter, just as the attorney prepared to visit North Carolina in an attempt to familiarize himself with the case.
. . . Some thoughts on public relations. . . . The Supreme Court should grant a new trial but probably won't, so my only hope is ... a new trial based on "new" evidence. We'll have to get the evidence, package it, and force a new trial. We'll have to marshall public opinion to do that, I think—and we have to expend good energy that way. . . .
I'm writing this letter to tell you what you already know, and it doesn't require an answer but I wanted to say it. I was innocent in 1970 and I'm innocent now. I spent 7 months in a room in 1970 and a year in prison in 1979-80 and now 7 months more in prison. I'm looking at the rest of my life here, among functional illiterates and vicious people who spend 85% of their time bragging about their crimes. The grotesque monster of the "case" has been on my back for so long I'm not sure what I'd be like without this incredible pressure 24 hours a day. But I would like to find out. The insanity of being here, of being saddled with a "guilty" verdict on these horrendous crimes against my family and myself, of facing the rest of my life behind razor wire, being told to make my bed by thugs with an IQ approaching 60, of watching my Mom aging now incredibly quickly and becoming uncertain in her thought and actions—it is all almost too much to take.
I go over the "ifs" of my case & I can't sleep for 2 nights each time. I can afford no more "if only's"—I need some hope, some new evidence, and a vindication. I have to leave this system, this case, these twelve and a half years, and return to a real life. I'd like to see my Mom smile again—I'd like to treat patients again—I'd even like a family (that was Randi's gift to me—she got me over that hurdle).
I'm hoping you come back from N.C. with key new evidence. If not, at least a determination, if not a religious fervor, to plunge headlong & 100% into the case, to work day & night, to find the means to overturn this monster I've been saddled with. ...
The weeks and months keep slipping by—I'm now 39 and have lots of anger to dissipate as I try to resume a life. Remember—this all started when I was 26. I'm sitting here in Texas, in a strange & alien land, in an environment that is 500 fools locked up by 300 borderline retards, on a jr. college campus, but treated like jr. high schoolers, with our campus surrounded by double fences topped with razor wire and barbed wire—all on closed circuit T.V. It is really bizarre.
I need to walk out of here—vindicated, able to hold my head up, able to care for myself & my family. I need that fairly soon.
Lastly, let me say that for 12 years I let the lawyers do it. I paid my way, dearly at times, but I concentrated on my professional career, myself, forgetting Feb. 17, 1970, and tried to live a normal life. That is all gone, and they are saying "forever." My fight now is truly for my life, as it was that night in 1970, only this death will take 30 to 40 years. I don't want, or deserve this. ... I need to be vindicated—I need to walk out of here, back to life. I would like to smell the flowers again, and I should.
On Monday, January 10, 1983, the Supreme Court, without comment, denied MacDonald's request that it review the Fourth Circuit's rejection of MacDonald's claim that he had not received a fair trial. This brought to an end—after twelve years, ten months, and twenty-four days—the legal phase of the Jeffrey MacDonald case.
Three days later—on the afternoon of Thursday, January 13—the body of Helena Stoeckley was found on a couch in an apartment she had been renting in Seneca, South Carolina. The body, found by a maintenance man who had come to the apartment to install weather stripping, was in a state of decomposition which indicated that she had been dead for several days. Her seven-month-old son—the product of her marriage to Ernie Davis, who was serving a fifteen-year jail sentence for first-degree sexual assault at the time of her death—was found, badly dehydrated but alive, beneath a crib not far from the couch.
From his Bastrop prison cell, MacDonald said he found the death "highly suspicious," but autopsy disclosed that Stoeckley had died of natural causes: pneumonia, brought on by cirrhosis of the liver which, for years, had been diseased with hepatitis.
The manager of the apartment complex in which she had been living said, "She told us a couple of weeks ago that she and the baby had pneumonia." The manager added: "They were going without food. She told me one time she had only peanut butter sandwiches for five days."
From his jail cell near Greenville, South Carolina, Ernie Davis charged that his wife's death was the result—at least indirectly—of "harassment" by investigators employed by Jeffrey MacDonald.
"Helena was like a puppet," he said. "These people would pull her strings and make her do whatever they wanted. They'd tell her they talked to people who could place her at the murder and that she'd end up in jail if she didn't confess. Other times, they promised to get her a part in a movie once it was all over. She was just trying to please them. They put things in her head they knew weren't true and had her repeat it in the confessions. She knew it was all lies, but she finally sold out. She said time and time again that if she didn't tell them what they wanted to hear, they'd bother her even more."
Both Ted Gunderson (who was approaching literary agents with the story of how he had "solved" the MacDonald murders) and Prince Edward Beasley (who had reached an agreement with a former Fayetteville newspaper reporter that the two of them and Stoeckley would share in the proceeds of a book and possible movie to be based on the proposition that the Stoeckley cult had been responsible for the killings) denied the charges leveled by Ernie Davis.
"Every time Helena gave us statements, it was voluntary," Gunderson said. "The only time she was reluctant was when Ernie was harassing her. And still, she gave us fourteen or fifteen signed statements."
And, ignoring the autopsy findings, syndicated columnist Jack Anderson had written a January 15 column which The Washington Post headlined "Evidence Backs the Innocence of MacDonald," in which he said, "My staff ha
s uncovered stacks of evidence that supports the doctor's claim of innocence" (without at any point specifying what the stacks consisted of). Anderson's follow-up piece was headlined, "Death of Trial Witness Looks Suspicious." In this he wrote: "Not long ago, a tragic young woman named Helena Stoeckley stepped out of the shadows to save a man from life in prison. She told my office a story that brought her nothing but grief and threats. Last month she was found dead in her hideout apartment in South Carolina." The column strongly implied that members of Stoeckley's witchcraft cult had been responsible for her death but did not ever suggest how such a cult might use pneumonia and eirrhosis to silence a renegade member.
Encouraged by such evidence of continued support and—as he told a Long Beach newspaper reporter—by "more than 6,500 letters, all but about a dozen of them supportive," Jeffrey MacDonald vowed to fight on.
Dismissing Bernie Segal as "an asshole," he hired a new attorney. And, as ex-FBI agent Gunderson began to give press interviews claiming that the Stoeckley cult was threatening his life, MacDonald also employed a new team of private investigators. (Gunderson told a Dallas newspaper that he had received the following deadly message presumed to be from members of the cult: thirteen red roses, thirteen chrysanthemums, and a typed note that read, "Poacher in the grass, Once a cub, the lion sees Shades of death and life," and that as a result he had found it necessary to flee Los Angeles and begin a "life on the run.")
He said that by April 1983 his new attorney would be in court with, "an ironclad case" that would prove his innocence. "We're going to have both barrels loaded," MacDonald said. "We're going to have this thing in a cast-iron mold with perfect evidence." (In the meantime, he said, he was keeping trim in prison by abstaining from dinner. "Too many carbohydrates," he said.)