November 24, 2005
A real life 'Cold Case'
by Bill Bryan
- The crime 'Gail' was attacked and raped in her home
in Dogtown.
- The aftermath A man was charged and confessed, but
was released when
his DNA was not found at the scene. The crime remained unsolved.
- The law In January, a law was passed authorizing DNA
samples from
everyone convicted of a felony, not just dangerous criminals.
- The hit DNA from James Fujimoto (who was in jail for
auto tampering and
forgery convictions) matched DNA from the crime scene.
- The result Fujimoto was arrested when he met with
his parole officer.
He is currently in jail and charged with 13 felonies.
* * *
Steven Judd told St. Louis police that he brutally raped a woman in her
Dogtown home in 2003.
DNA told detectives that Judd did not do it.
James T. Fujimoto told St. Louis police he did not rape the woman that
night.
DNA told detectives that he did.
In a single case, regarded by those close to it as one of the most
brutal
sex crimes they ever saw a victim survive, DNA showed its power to
exonerate and to implicate.
Judd, a drifter who police said never explained his bogus confession,
was
fortunate that the attack occurred at a time when biological evidence
--
in this case semen -- could be tied by DNA to a particular person.
The arrest of Fujimoto was made possible by a law that took effect Jan.
1, requiring DNA testing of all Missouri's felons. It replaced a 1994
law
that required testing only of convicts sentenced for violent or sex
crimes.
Fujimoto, who police said has since admitted the attack, did not have
violent crimes in his prison record.
The victim said she was pleased with the arrest but scared. "I still
have a lot of fear," she told a reporter. "I'm not totally sure
that I feel any safer now. The man who attacked me said he'd come back
and get me."
She asked to go by her middle name, Gail, and not reveal the city to
which she has moved.
"Without the 'all felon' provision, this case would not have been
solved, because we wouldn't have his DNA," said police Sgt. Stephen
Dougherty, supervisor of the sex crimes detectives.
Assistant Circuit Attorney Ed Postawko, who is in charge of prosecuting
sex offenders, said Gail's case illustrates the significance of the new
law. "This is a classic example of its importance," he said.
"This case jumps right out."
Gail, 23, was asleep at home in the 6300 block of Berthold Avenue early
on Sept. 1, 2003, when a stranger with a metal baseball bat confronted
her.
"I remember parts of it," Gail said. "Parts were blank.
... I know I was raped and sodomized, made to shower and tied up for
three hours.
"I remember bleeding in the bathroom. I remember that when I came
to, I couldn't use my legs."
Kathleen Hanrahan, the director of the St. Louis Regional Sexual
Assault
Center, called it "the most horrific thing I've ever seen, and I've
seen 4,000 sexual assaults." She added, "He almost killed
her."
Gail narrowly escaped blindness from one of the bat's blows.
"They rebuilt a third of my face," she said. "I've got a
new cheekbone and eye socket. It's taken a while to get used to my new
image. You can't see many of the scars.
"You could say that I'm aesthetically changed."
Her psychological recovery has been more challenging. She said that
after
the attack, she lived like a hermit.
"I was so closed off. It was a terrifying prospect just getting the
mail. He would know I'm alone."
When Gail finally got the nerve to leave her home, she realized that
any
man could be the attacker -- she didn't know what he looked like.
A confession
Within hours of the rape, police
found a 20-year-old drifter from Kentucky, Steven
Judd, wandering in nearby Turtle
Park. He told them he had been sleeping in parks and under viaducts
while
on his way to Wyoming.
Judd made a videotaped
confession, police said, and was charged with rape,
robbery and
other crimes. Two months later, detectives were shocked to learn that
DNA showed the semen was not Judd's. He was released on Nov. 15, 2003.
"I asked Judd, 'Why did you confess if you didn't do it?'" said
Detective Mike McQuillen, who had arrested and questioned him. "He just
looked at me funny. He didn't have an answer."
The development jarred Gail, who said, "I thought he used magic to beat
the DNA.
"I was convinced he was going to come and get me."
Gail even wondered if there might have been an accomplice, explaining
another man's DNA.
Fujimoto, 24, of south St. Louis County, was a stranger to Gail and
never a suspect in the attack. He had served time in prison for auto
tampering and forgery.
Under standard procedures, authorities took a saliva swab on April 26
as Fujimoto was being paroled. The Missouri State Highway Patrol lab
put the results into a national database, to compare against blood,
semen, skin cells, hair and saliva and other material DNA evidence from
unsolved crimes.
On Sept. 24, the lab reported the match to Fujimoto. He was arrested
four days later.
At first, he denied the crime, Dougherty said. "When we told him about
the DNA, he gave us a full statement."
At the time, Fujimoto was under investigation in connection with a
series of break-ins and purse thefts from women's cars parked outside
of health clubs in Town & Country, Sunset Hills, Des Peres and
Frontenac, said Detective Sgt. Rick Kranz of Town & Country.
Authorities believe their suspect had stalked his victims.
Fujimoto is held in the St. Louis Justice Center in lieu of $1 million
bail, charged with 13 felonies, including rape, sodomy, assault and
burglary.
If he goes to trial, Gail said, she will muster the courage to testify
even though his arrest made her apprehensive all over again. "I
remember Mike (McQuillen) assuring me that Judd would never get out.
Now, the police are trying to reassure me that Fujimoto will never get
out.
"I know it might not make sense, but what if he does get out and come
after me?"
A DNA backlog
Bill Marbaker, assistant director of the Highway Patrol crime lab, said
the lab has been inundated with DNA samples since the "all felon"
provision took effect. From Jan. 1 through October, the lab has
received 28,287 samples and analyzed 13,191, leaving a backlog of
15,096. With new samples flowing in, he said, it might take three to
five years to catch up.
From January through October, the checking identified 118 suspects in
old crimes, including 87 among the non-violent offenders, he said.
Gail's was not the first big case broken here by the DNA testing of all
felons.
In June, Currie Lindsey, 37, was charged with the murder of 74-year-old
Arline Wiemann, who was found raped, suffocated and beaten in her bed
in an apartment in the 4300 block of Nebraska Avenue on May 21, 1997.
Lindsey, never a suspect in Wiemann's death, had numerous arrests and
convictions, most of them for drug offenses. None was for a violent or
sex crime. His sample went into the system March 28, just three days
before his parole would have expired and with it the state's ability to
compel him to cooperate.
"It's really exciting for us here in the lab to see these big cases get
solved," Marbaker said. "We knew all along that we were going to see a
tremendous number of hits and we're starting to see it.
"Our lab people are so excited," he added. "They're coming in to work
nights and weekends because they want to. It's just nuts around here."
Police Capt. James Gieseke,
commander of the Crimes Against Persons Division, said systematic DNA
testing is enormously important. "Jurors love it. Prosecutors love it.
Many defendants plead out when faced with DNA evidence against them."
Chief of Detectives Tim Reagan said he dreams of a day when DNA testing
becomes universal. "I'd like to see everybody -- not just criminals --
entered into the database. It's non-obtrusive. A person could be
swabbed when they get their drivers license."
The funding that keeps the test program going comes from court fees --
$15 for each misdemeanor and $30 for each felony. Mary Beth Karr, the
St. Louis police DNA technical leader, said she worries a little that
the fund could be depleted because anyone exonerated by DNA can get
restitution from the same money.
So far, only one man has been found eligible for the restitution; in
August, Anthony D. Woods was exonerated by DNA after serving 18 years
for rape and was awarded $328,500.
But Susanne Brenneke, the state DNA program administrator, isn't too
concerned. "The law is doing what we anticipated," she said. "I think
the legislators see the value of it."
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