As far as I have been able to ascertain, it
took a little over an hour after the shootings took place to identify Ryan Clark,
the RA in West Ambler Johnston Hall. But the timeline in the Governor’s Review
Panel Report does not pin down the precise time of the identification.
You may be saying that this delay is not too
bad. And, in and of itself, you are probably right. But coupled with the rest
of what was going on at the crime scene, it is another indication of the lack
of coordination and communication among those who were at West Ambler Johnston
Hall. It would seem that despite the presence of an experienced police chief,
Wendell Flinchum, there was little or no organization or systematic approach to
investigating the crime scene.
A good crime scene investigator considers all
possibilities and rules nothing out. Who might have committed the murder, was
it a random act of violence, was it a robbery or drug deal gone bad? Nothing
should be excluded and while a suspect may be identified in the interview
process, no one suspect or person of interest should be singled out to the
exclusion of others—particularly in the absence of strong evidence. So how did
it happen that Chief Flinchum focused the investigation on Karl Thornhill,
Emily Hilscher’s boyfriend, as the only person of interest?
Let’s take a closer look at this “person of
interest.” Who decided that the West Ambler Johnston crime scene was a
“domestic incident?” When was that decision made? How was the conclusion
reached that murderers in a domestic crime should not be considered a threat to
others? The only evidence that Flinchum
had to support his belief that this was a domestic incident appears to be that
one of the victims was male and the other female—and, that they were clad only
in their pajamas and underwear respectively. It does not appear that the
trousers flung on the bed of the next-door room, left unoccupied and with the
door hanging open, were taken into account.
A far more likely explanation of the crime
scene was that what Ryan Clark had heard concerned him so much that he didn’t
take time to put his pants on before going to investigate. He was probably the
only person, and certainly the last, to hear Emily’s cry for help. He did the
heroic thing—he went to her aid. But, the police, because the two were not
fully dressed, put the tawdriest explanation on what they found—the two must
have been having sex; the shootings must have been part of a love triangle. It
apparently was beyond the investigating officers’ thinking that what they found
could be anything else but some spin on a sex crime. The exact opposite appears
to be the truth—Ryan Clark died a hero’s death.
Let’s look more closely at the question of
issuing a warning and instituting a lockdown. Only the Virginia Tech police and
the school’s Policy Group know what took place in the deliberations and
conversations following the double homicide at West Ambler Johnston Hall. Only
they know if a lockdown was suggested; only they know if and how vigorously a
campus-wide warning was recommended—and by whom. And they are not talking.
A key concept in crime scene analysis is the
“person of interest;” the identification and apprehension of such a person is
key to any investigation, and especially important in a violent crime. First, a
reasonable suspicion of who may have committed the crime—based on facts—must be
determined. Then, if that person is still at large, investigators must
determine whether that person is planning to engage in further criminal
activity. Only once investigators have the evidence to substantiate their
suspicion, should they identify that individual as a “person of interest.”
These principles were violated at Virginia
Tech. The Virginia Tech police identified Karl Thornhill, Emily Hilscher’s
boyfriend, as a “person of interest” and concentrated on him to the exclusion
of all else. The “evidence” pointing to the boyfriend was a photo of Thornhill
holding a rifle, not a pistol, at a firing range.
In fact, a large number of college-age males
in southwestern Virginia own guns and many go to firing ranges or engage in
target practice. On this basis alone, any number of young men in West Ambler
Johnston Hall could have been designated a “person of interest.” There was no
evidence in the room or from witnesses that Karl Thornhill had been there that
morning, and no hints that the couple had been unhappy.
Compounding the error was the fact that the
police and school proceeded as if they had found their killer. By zeroing in on
Karl Thornhill, Chief Flinchum and all the police investigators violated one of
the very basic tenants of crime analysis: they believed what they wanted to
believe, they assumed someone was guilty with the flimsiest of evidence and
apparently excluded other possible culprits in their investigation.
Flinchum and others may try to argue that it
was reasonable to focus on Karl Thornhill. Reasonable suspicion, however, is
determined from the totality of the circumstances and information known to the
investigating officers. There was no totality of evidence pointing toward
Thornhill. Reasonable suspicion is subject to neither wishful thinking nor is
it subject to formulaic analysis in the absence of evidence. Crime scene
investigators should never zero in on one suspect to the exclusion of others.
This basic mistake by Flinchum, and others, would become a mutating monster at
Norris Hall in less than two hours.
In examining the missteps of the
investigating officers in the early hours of April 16, 2007, you have to look
at the questioning of Emily Hilscher’s roommate Heather Haugh. If the police
suspected that the murders were the result of a domestic dispute such as a love
triangle, what better person to ask that than Haugh? Yet, there is no evidence
such a question was asked.
Had anyone thought to follow up on the
possibility of a love triangle with any of the dorm residents, rather than
assuming it was true based on the location and genders of the bodies,
investigators could have quickly found out that Ryan Clark had no interest in
Emily Hirscher beyond her being a student he was assigned to help and watch
over in his role as a RA. Hilscher had none in him, other than as a neighbor,
RA, and possibly the person who answered what may have been her last cry for
help.
As far as I can tell, no one asked Heather
Haugh about the relationship between her roommate and her RA. Haugh returned to
the dorm room at 8:14 a.m., an hour after the shooting, 45 minutes after
Spencer had arrived, and only 14 minutes after Chief Flinchum. Shortly after
that point in time the police had to know that Emily Hirscher was the wounded
student (although the timeline of the Review Panel Report does not specifically
state the time of Hilscher’s identification). It is not until the questioning
of Haugh begins that the police identify Hilscher’s boyfriend, Karl Thornhill,
as the person of interest and that takes place sometime around 8:30 a.m. A
lookout for Karl Thornhill was issued between 8:30 a.m. and 8:40 a.m. However,
although he was a “person of interest” and a student at Radford University,
apparently Virginia Tech police did not notify the Radford University police of
that fact for some time. This delay in asking for help to find Thornhill, “a
person of interest” in a double homicide, is puzzling.
Strangely, President Steger would claim at a
press conference on the evening of April 16th that Thornhill was a
“person of interest” at 7:30 a.m. Only years later, and following a painful
jury trial, did families find out for certain that such timing was impossible.
Still, it is clear that by 8:40 a.m. the
university police had decided on a suspect and issued a be-on-the-look-out for
him. It is also clear that the young man was not in custody, and the police did
not know where he was. They had delayed in contacting Thornhill’s school, and
so they could not confirm whether he was in class or at his dorm. What they did
have was thirteen bloody footsteps leading away from a double murder scene, and
someone with a gun, whether it was Thornhill or not, potentially loose on their
campus.
Still no warning was issued. It was not until
9:26 am that the school issued a notification reading: “A shooting incident
occurred at West Ambler Johnston Hall earlier this morning. Police are on the
scene and are investigating.”
All references to a homicide and a possible
active shooter were absent from the notice; there was no mention of the fact
that the killer was armed, dangerous, and still at large.
The police said they locked-down one building
on the morning of April 16, 2007, and that was West Ambler Johnston Hall. But
even then, they got it wrong. Despite statements that the dormitory was “locked
down” while the building was being searched, in fact it was not. Students still
had access into and out of the building. Students such as Henry Lee and Rachael
Hill were allowed to leave the building during that time period to go to their
French class—where both would later be killed. The two arrived at class
sometime between 9:15 a.m. and 9:30 a.m., just minutes before Cho. A
particularly heart-wrenching aspect to this story is that Hill, while walking
across campus, called her parents to tell them there had been a shooting in her
dormitory, but she was OK.
Cho’s rampage began at 9:40 a.m.
The bottom line is that at the one place
where the police instituted a lock- down, they didn’t get it right. If a true
lock-down had been in place, Hill and Lee would be alive today. (To be
continued)
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