Innocent, But Behind Bars
Another man confessed to murder. Why is this retarded man in prison?
JOHNNY: I didn't know it either.
When Wilson finally confessed, it was in a frightened and distant tone, sometimes speaking of his role in the third person or following the leading questions of officers who suggested that the right answer could get him out of trouble. He admitted, for example, to committing the crime with two other men whom police named first. Then, when told the others were not involved, Wilson contradicted himself to say he acted alone. Typical is this questioning:
OFFICER: What was she wearing? What did you see?
JOHNNY: Blouse of some sort, I can't tell what color.
OFFICER: Try to think. These little details are important, and it's important that you tell the true story as most accurate as possible because that will show that you're trying to tell the truth. This is an important time.
JOHNNY: I'll say it was white, probably a white or bluish blouse.
OFFICER: OK, how about bluish? I'll go for that.
WILSON: Yeah.
OFFICER: How about bluish green maybe?
Later, this encounter took place:
OFFICER: What besides a rope was around her ankles? Something else, this is another test. I know and you know, just think. Come on, John.
JOHNNY: I'm thinking.
OFFICER: What are some things that could be used?
JOHNNY: Handcuffs, I think.
OFFICER: No, no--wrong guess.
Wilson comes up with duct tape, but only when the officer suggests it first.
By the end of the interrogation, Wilson had admitted to arson, attempted rape (a coroner's report found no evidence of sexual assault) and hiding stolen jewelry under his backyard basketball pole. Officers searched, yet found no such jewelry. But from inside the Wilson home, police confiscated costume jewelry (Wilson's grandmother collected baubles for the dolls she sold at craft fairs), women's underwear (police would suggest these belonged to Martz; Susan Wilson explained convincingly that the bikini briefs and bras in her size were hers) and a magazine with pictures of naked women that Johnny had bought at the 7-Eleven (police used this to suggest Wilson had a perverted interest in sex). It was flimsy physical evidence on which to base a murder charge.
But the prosecution got its biggest break from Wilson's own court-appointed defense team: They forfeited a trial. Instead, Wilson entered a rare plea bargain called an Alford plea. It is allowed when a defendant maintains his innocence but fears the evidence nonetheless will convince a jury to convict. By pleading guilty, and accepting a life sentence without parole for first degree murder, Wilson avoided the possibility of the electric chair.
"That was Johnny's decision," says public defender Michael Garrett, who says the three-lawyer team carefully explained the options to Wilson and his family. Wilson, however, seemed confused when he entered the plea on April 30, 1987, telling Jasper County Circuit Court Judge L. Thomas Elliston, "I'm guilty, I guess."
Garrett says the plea was Wilson's "best option," given the confession and an "eyewitness" named Gary Wall. Police investigating the murder never would have given the inward Wilson a second thought had it not been for a tip from Wall, a special-ed classmate. Wall had followed the fire sirens to Martz's house. Among the scores of spectators was Wilson. "I asked him what was going on, and he said that the lady was tied up, beat up and burned," Wall told police five days after the crime. When Wall asked, "Was you in on it?" he said, Wilson replied, "Yeah"--but then threatened, "If you tell anyone that, I'll beat you up and I'll get some other guys."
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