Jane Velez-Mitchell - Secrets Can Be Murder: What Americas Most Sensational Crimes Tell Us about Ourselves

AN ABANDONED AND MALIGNANT HEART

I spent the bulk of my trial career in the various courtrooms of an old and stately courthouse in inner-city Atlanta. The levels of violent crime at that time were ragingat their highest. Incoming shipments of crack, powder cocaine, heroin, and pot would first enter the country in Miami. Mules would hotfoot it up the interstate north to New York and all points in between. First major pit stop? Atlanta.

The increasing drug trade only served to fuel violent crime in a city already bursting at the seams with newcomers, both legal and illegal. Billed as the city too busy to hate, Atlantas legitimate business was thriving. The drug and crime business thrived right along with it. As I battled violent felons day in, day out, I noticed that, along with the culture of crime came the victimization of those who need societys protection the most: women and children.

How often during those ten years in Atlanta courtrooms did I find myself staring across a paneled courtroomat the defense table. Seated there would inevitably be the defendant, predictably well dressed and well groomed, surrounded by a phalanx of his defense attorneys. The lawyers didnt interest me so much. I had themand their trickspretty well figured out. No, it wasnt the highly educated and well-paid lawyers that fascinatedit was the defendant.

Fixing a steady gaze on the accused, I typically had memorized a file folder full of facts about him that the jury would never hear due to the restrictive nature of the rules of evidence, created to protect the defendant under the Constitution. Past convictions, bad acts, psychological reports, and a host of other inadmissible evidence would run through my mind as I openly looked. Sometimes I would watch the defendant become obviously nervous as I stared over. At times they would actually try to physically hide behind their attorneys. While they may have suspected that I was completely repelled by them and their bad acts, more often than not, I stared in pure fascination.

How could one person cause so much pain? That was my usual thought. How could one seemingly ordinary person sitting quietly in a suit and tielooking like the corner banker or an accountant or science teacherwreak so much havoc? So often their crimes would include a complete and reckless disregard for the lives and feelings of others. Sometimes in the law this is called an abandoned and malignant heart. Sometimes the law refers to it as a black heart.

It often seemed as if the suffering they inflicted on others meant nothing to them. I became completely obsessed not only with who, but also with why? I would work tirelessly to understand the criminal mind and the so-called black heart. It took me years, literally years, to accept that I could never understand why? I had to accept that my job as a prosecutor was to seek a verdict that would speak the truth, a true verdict as the law says. My job was to determine whether a crime had taken place and take the states position before a jury. I poured my heart, body, and soul into the representation of Atlantas victims of violent crime.

But on many a night, as I left the courtroom and trudged to my car with arms full of files and evidence, I wondered. As I drove home through the maze of traffic, I wondered. And to this day, I still wonder. With every case I cover, every missing person or lost little child whose body is found discarded, I wonder. I wonder why?

My job was to make the streets of Atlanta safer for the innocent. That in itself was a daunting task. In the pages that lie before you, my colleague JVM, as I call her, gives us answers to the question that still plagues me with each case: Why?

NANCY GRACE

A s a TV news reporter for three decades, Ive visited crime scenes coast to coast, watching cops hunt for killers and listening to district attorneys theorize about motives. What Ive gradually come to realize is that the key to understanding a crime often lies in discovering the secrets that led up to it.

With insights from well-known criminologists, forensic psychologists, fellow reporters, and the families of victims, this book analyzes the most sensational crimes of our times, flushing out the secrets behind the sinister acts.

The truth is, law-abiding citizens share many of the same secrets as criminals. And people who have never suffered a crime share many of the same secrets as victims. Thats why, when a secret is exposed at trial, we often experience a flash of recognition! Sometimes the only difference between us and the criminal is that his secret was threatened by exposure, and he did something unthinkable to protect it. Sometimes the only difference between us and the victim is that we were lucky.

What exactly is a secret? I posed this question to many experts. One intriguing answer came from Los Angeles psychotherapist Lew Richfield, who defined a secret this way: Its a lump of unfinished business that you carry with you wherever you go. And, just as you would with a concealed weapon, you pretend that you are not carrying it. So secrets automatically make you duplicitous and turn you into a liar. You may think you know somebody but you dont, unless you know their secrets.

Secrets are based on shame. A secret needs to be revealed or it will slowly poison the person who is holding it. Says Dr. Richfield, Secrets prevent people from moving forward comfortably in their lives.

Living a lie takes a huge amount of energy, which can be debilitating. The deceit, which often starts as a minor cover-up, increases exponentially. Secrets build on secrets and lies must be protected by other lies. Resentment and rage over the clandestine life creates a climate of hostility. Anger and shame about the false exterior can lead to alcohol and drug addiction, fueling the toxicity of an already volatile situation. Sometimes a crime is committed in a desperate attempt to preserve the secret. Violence can also erupt when the truth is finally discovered.

The best way to purge a secret is to own it. That means we have to accept this shameful truth and embrace it. We need to get comfortable with it. We have to learn where it came from and why it formed. Once you accomplish that, the secret loses its power over you. Shakespeare said it best: To thine own self be true, and it must follow as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.

The process of dismantling a secret can be humbling, demanding self-honesty. But consider the alternative. What if your secret was exposed in the worst possible way? What if the one thing youve never told anyone was suddenly broadcast to the entire world? What if everyone suddenly found out what youre really like, behind the mask?