AUTHOR'S NOTE: Against the advice of his appellate attorney, Michael Fletcher agreed to respond to written questions nine months after his guilty verdict, as this book was going to press. The comments have been trimmed but the language that remains is his. There was no opportunity for follow-up questions. Except for a brief interview on the ABC news show "20/20" these are his only on-the-record comments about that fateful day in August and subsequent events.
Q. How do you spend your time? Can you describe for me a typical day and week?
A. Although I've recently changed facilities, and have as of yet no set routine, I'll describe what I did with my time at the last facility.
Almost immediately, I was hired as the housing unit librarian. This appealed to me, because I didn't even have to leave the building. Monday through Friday, I sat and read books for two hours, and little more. Those inmates who enjoy reading almost always prefer to read suspense novels, and those are kept in the main library in another building. The books in the library I worked in were primarily educational materials. For some reason, those types of books are like kryptonite to prison inmates. As such, I didn't have much work to do, and oddly enough, those ten hours a week (sometimes even less) constituted a full-time position. Go figure.
Every other day, I worked out in the weight pit. As for the rest of my time, I spent it at my typewriter, reading books, and watched "Jeopardy!" twice a day. I also spent a good amount of time listening to the radio.
Since everything is pretty much done for you, even your laundry, you're pretty much free to spend your time as you like. It's pretty strange for me, not having a hundred or so different responsibilities tugging at me all the time, but then again, I suppose I'd have to be foolish to complain, given the circumstances.
As far as weeks are concerned, every day is pretty much the same for
me. The only thing that changes is the television schedule, and church on Sunday.
Q. What do you do for recreation or amusement?
A. See above.
Q. You were an avid reader. Are you allowed to read what you want? Do they censor or restrict the books or magazines you are allowed?
A. Given the life of leisure that I've recently been provided with, I have the opportunity to do more reading than I ever have in the past. There are silver linings.…
Materials relating to weapons, explosives, etc. are prohibited as I understand. Since my tastes in literature tend to center around philosophy, theology, technology, and any decent fiction that I can get my hands on, these restrictions haven't proven to be a bother in the least. Although there is this Aryan Nation/Neo-Nazi fellow up the hall that's trying to sell a photocopied edition of the Anarchists' Cookbook. I told him that I wasn't interested.
Q. According to police and prosecutors, death threats were made to you upon your admittance to the prison system. Rumors were flying among the men in blue. I know this firsthand because I was told them. Has there been any truth in that, as far as you know? How do you get along with your fellow inmates?
A. That's pretty funny, actually. I will assume that you already have a pretty good idea as to why police and prosecutors would want to spread rumors of that nature, and perhaps want to believe them true themselves. I suspect you've figured that out for yourself during the course of your research and interviews with them, by the way you've worded this question as well as the next.
Before even getting to prison, I received letters of support from inmates. Many of them just wrote to tell me that they were praying for myself and my family, their belief in my innocence, and wishing me luck
for a speedy and successful appeal. Not once have I ever received correspondence that was negative in any way, let alone threatening. That is, of course, excluding creditors.
Consider this: an attorney goes to prison. Where else on earth could a lawyer be of more practical value? Forgive me taking a risk at sounding distasteful, but one could easily, if not accurately, analogize ringing the dinner bell in a Third World country.
Given that I've been trying to keep myself busy, I spend the majority of my time working alone. However, when I'm out and about, I'll sit around and converse just like everyone else. Much of this time I spend answering questions of a legal nature, as you might guess, and overall my fellow inmates have seemed appreciative.
Q. Will you be doing, or have you done, any jailhouse lawyering on behalf of your fellow inmates?
A. As I mentioned earlier, I frequently answer questions and discuss legal issues. From time to time, I'll review briefs and other paperwork. But for the most part, I've been too busy doing other things to involve myself in research or document preparation. Should I change my mind in the future at some point, there will certainly be no shortage of clients, however.
Q. Can you recount for me those few moments from the time you went into the bathroom, heard the shot and came back out? Your thoughts, reactions, etc.
A. Our house was very small and very old, with painted plaster walls. So when the gun went off, I felt the sound as much as heard it. I suppose that anyone who has been shocked by an unexpected and extremely loud noise can relate to the heart-stopping effect it had on me.
Admittedly, and regrettably in retrospect, my first concerns were not for Leann's safety or welfare. In that brief moment it took for me to exit the bathroom and go down the hall to the bedroom, I was thinking about the hole she had just blown through one of the dressers, the floor, wall, or
possibly her computer or printer. I expected to find her standing there holding the gun, shaking like a leaf, with her mouth slightly open and her lower lip quivering as it always did before she started to cry. The first words out of my mouth would have been "What the hell are you doing?" or "Are you insane, woman?"
We had expressions that we used when one of us would screw up in a big way. Mine for hers was "pulling a Leann" (her phrase for my mishaps was identical, except for the name of course). In short, my first thought was that she had just pulled a Leann, and it was destined to be one of her many classics. It would've been one of those things that I was mad about at first, but laughed about later. I can't explain why this thought was my first mental response. Perhaps a psychologist would say that subconsciously I didn't want it to be anything more than that. All I know is that it would've been preferable to come home and find that she had burned the house to the ground with everything we owned in it, than to see what actually did happen, or even have the memory of it.
Q. The prosecution seemed fixated on the thought you had sex with Leann and then killed her, even though it made a tight time-line even tighter. When did you last have sex with her, if not just before the shooting?
A. Prior to responding to your question directly, I would first like to address what I believe is the larger issue here. Namely, I would like to discuss the justification, or lack thereof, for their assertion, and why it was important to them.
There are several physical indicators that a pathologist will look for in order to determine whether or not a female had engaged in sexual activity immediately prior to death. These observations are routine procedure, and questions in this regard are also routine when the issue is raised.
Oddly enough, the prosecution failed to ask any questions with regard to these physical indicators during their direct examination of the forensic pathologist that had performed the exam. They were asserting that I had
sex with my wife just prior to the shooting, yet they failed to even attempt to extract evidence of this from the only witness that could have provided it. The defense, on the other hand, performed this routine line of questioning upon cross-examination of the same witness. Normally, this would be a risky thing for defense counsel to do, because the prosecution had failed to produce the evidence, the defense had nothing to refute. In addition to the fact that the witness was called by the prosecution. In this case, however, the responses of the witness were anticipated. That is, there were no physical indicators present which suggested that my wife had been involved in sexual activity just prior to her death. The prosecution's own witness admitted this.
The prosecution also failed to establish any kind of time-line with regard to the events. Time-lines are important in any case, particularly to prosecutors in this type of trial. Since the prosecution bears the burden of proof (they're supposed to bear the burden, at any rate), it is important that they establish that their theory as to what occurred actually fits within a given time frame. In other words, they have to demonstrate that an individual could have carried out the activities they are alleging, or at least had the opportunity.
The prosecution also called a witness that was able to approximate the time of our departure from the gun range. Furthermore, they had almost an entire year to investigate how long it takes to drive from that point to our home during typical Monday lunch-hour traffic. This, again, is routine procedure that was strangely overlooked by a prosecutor with a wealth of experience; far more than my own, at any rate. As the evidence demonstrated, elicited from the prosecution's witnesses at that, Leann and I were only in the house for a few minutes prior to the 911 call. For the prosecutor to claim that I did all of the things they assert, and then allege that I was able to have sex prior to, is ludicrous. In fact, if the prosecutor claims that it was possible for a man to only have sex, and nothing more, within that time frame, he must certainly be speaking from his own personal experience. And my sincerest sympathies are extended to his
wife.
The question remains as to why the prosecution would make such an assertion, the lack of evidence to support it notwithstanding. After all, having sex with your wife is perfectly legal, so far as I know, and it is certainly not an element of the crime of murder. Furthermore, I was never charged with criminal sexual conduct or any other offense for which having had sex would even be legally relevant. So why was this claim made in the first place? Why was it so important to them? The answer is really quite simple, and it involves human nature.
I would venture to guess that most people can relate to the scenario where an accused man is being led into a court-house, he's usually wearing handcuffs and surrounded by police. We see this on the news all the time, with a reporter giving his rendition of the allegations being leveled against the individual. If the alleged crime is particularly heinous in nature, there is a tendency for people to point a finger, and hope against all hope that the accused individual gets nailed to the wall. This is done without regard as to the evidence, if any, that officials may or may not have to support the accusation.
Although I won't venture to guess as to why it is that people are so willing to assume guilt without basis, whether it is an innate desire to have faith in their government's institutions, a rush to judgment in order to satisfy one's sense of justice, or the ease of assuming the worst about a complete stranger. Whatever reason(s) lie behind this reaction, the fact is that it exists. No one is more aware of this than people who understand the nature of our criminal justice system, particularly those who work within it. It is also understood that the more heinous the accusation is, that natural reaction is proportionately stronger.
To accuse a man of executing his pregnant wife has a powerful effect in the community. Whether or not there is any evidentiary support for the claim, they have effectively made a monster of him. But when they assert that he had sex with her before committing the crime, they create something even more appalling. Namely, a perverted monster. They
wanted to have the world hate me, especially the jurors, before the trial even began. It was the only way they could convict me.
The answer to your original question is Saturday, August fourteenth, late in the evening. We had gone out to a restaurant with our daughter and Leann's sister Lindy and her husband Marc. After that, we dropped Hannah off at Leann's parents' place, and the four of us went out to catch a movie. When we returned to collect our daughter, we decided to announce Leann's pregnancy to her parents. I had taken Hannah aside and told her to tell Grandma and Grandpa that she was going to have a little brother (Hey, a guy can dream, can't he?). Anyway, Hannah spilled the beans, and it was quite cute. Of course there were hugs and congratulatory expressions that normally follow such announcements. We stayed and talked for a while. During the ride home, Hannah fell asleep, so I carried her into her room and tucked her in bed when we arrived. When I went into our bedroom, Leann let me know that she was "in the mood." It was the last time I made love to my wife.
Q. When did you first realize you were a suspect?
A. When foul play is suspected, the spouse is always a suspect. Always. However, I never had any indication that they were considering foul play until just prior to my leaving the police station.
For the three-and-a-half hours or so that I was there, a detective (I believe his name was Welch) sat with me in a small room. He was compassionate in his mannerisms toward me, and continually offered his sympathy. It was this man who took my written statement. Oddly, the prosecution never used this statement, nor did they call Detective Welch to the stand. He was the same officer that brought me to the station from the house.
During the last few minutes I was there, Detectives Hendricks and Cleyman came into the room. Hendricks asked me why Leann picked the gun up. I told him that I didn't know. I thought this was an odd question, given what I had already written. Unless I was a psychic, any answer I
could have possibly given him would have been pure speculation.
Cleyman was seated across from me when he addressed me. His tone was harsh, as though he were trying to emulate the "tough cop" persona. He said, "Well, I have a problem with people loading guns and having sex."
I was quite taken by surprise, shocked even, that an officer would say something like that to a man in my position and after what I'd been through. I began to repeat what I'd already told Detective Welch, and what I'd written down for them.
As I was recounting the events for the umpteenth time, he sat there rolling his eyes and bobbing his head, doing his best to demonstrate the fact that he had already formulated his opinion before coming into the room.
It was at that time that Roy, the attorney who came in to be with me, got up and took me out of there.
I had worked closely with police as an attorney, from both sides of the court, prosecution and defense. I was well aware that some cops use the tough-guy approach in order to shake out any inconsistent statements. This is not necessarily because he is a suspect.
It wasn't until later that we discovered that both Hendricks and Cleyman had already made up their minds at that point. The real investigation was over. What was in fact happening was an effort to find anything possible to support their opinion, as opposed to finding out what actually happened.
Q. You are a lawyer. Why didn't you simply ask to speak to a lawyer the moment the police took you to the station?
A. At the time I was taken to the police station, I was not a lawyer. I was a man who had just moments before been kneeling over the body of his wife. It was the most horrific and gruesome sight I had ever witnessed, and the fact that it was my wife, who only moments before had been smiling at me, created a sense of dread within me that is beyond
description. I was in shock for days afterward, and legal concerns had no place in my mind. It took hours for me to even write out the brief statement for Detective Welch; I could barely hold the pen in my hand.
Marcia, the secretary at Roy Gruenberg's office (where I shared office space), paged me after a reporter called to ask questions. I called her from the station, and she told me that Roy was on his way. This was after I had been there for a couple of hours or so, perhaps three.
Q. You went to the movies with Leann's sister that weekend. You went out to dinner with her parents. Obviously you socialized with the Misener family. What is your reaction to Gloria's immediate conclusion that you had killed Leann on purpose, and the rest of the family agreeing with her so readily?
A. Yes, I frequently socialized with my in-laws. Furthermore, there isn't anything that I wouldn't have done for any of them if asked. At the same time, I am all too aware of Gloria's personality traits, as well as her position in the family.
If you review the report Detective Cleyman prepared with regard to Jack and Gloria's reaction to being told that their daughter was dead, you will notice that Gloria never even shed a tear. Her only reaction was a "grim" facial expression, and her statement "That son-of-a-bitch shot her" (I don't know why she had to insult my mother). She then proceeded to draft a statement, using bold, smooth penmanship. Cleyman indicated that Jack, on the other hand, completely lost it, which under the circumstances would be expected, I should think. I mean, imagine being told that your daughter, your baby at that, had just been killed. Yet Gloria's first reaction was to lash out, without even being apprised of the facts.
Simply put, this is the way that Gloria typically reacts or deals with anything that affects her adversely. She casts blame upon anyone whom she perceives as being worthy of it, and she never backs down, regardless of circumstances. She once, according to Leann, held a grudge against her own brother for purchasing a tombstone for their stepfather, whom she
apparently disliked. Leann told me that she had refused to even speak with him for a decade. Although I'm not a psychologist, I think that perhaps this is some form of coping mechanism that Gloria developed a long time ago. I always felt sorry for her, actually. Harboring so much bitterness and animosity is much harder on the person who holds it, as opposed to the subject of it, and you can see it on her face.
Once this personality trait is taken into account, it's easy to understand why the family consistently backs her up in virtually any situation. To not do so would merely invite family discord of epic proportion. They are a very tight group, with all but one of the siblings living within Oakland County, and that one exception lives less than forty minutes away. In fact, the only brother, who is in his forties, still lives at home with Jack and Gloria. Without a doubt, the family is matriarchal, and Gloria is the head.
Another consideration, with regard to the family taking the position that they did, was the press. Although none of them were in a position to say anything authoritative with regard to the alleged incident, the Miseners were suddenly placed in a position where anything they did say was considered newsworthy, but only because of the sensationalism that the case generated.
Had the situation been reversed, that is, if I were the one who had been killed, my family would have hoped against all hope that it was an accident, consoling Leann instead of accusing her. They would have supported her, or at the very least held a neutral position in the unlikely event that she would have been charged with a crime (absent the accusation of Gloria, it is unlikely that I would have been charged). Knowing this, it was difficult for me to hear them claim that I had killed Leann, as simply and matter-of-factly as if comparing such an act to taking out the garbage. That they would consider me even capable of doing such a thing was a lot to handle.
What upset me most, however, was their behavior. At my wife's funeral, they removed the cards from the flower arrangements that my family had sent, cut my face out of the family pictures that were
displayed …
Q. Did you want to take the stand at your trial, and, if so, why didn't you?
A. Since the prosecution failed to produce evidence that established my guilt, counsel advised me against it. There are several reasons for this. Prior to the trial, I had been locked in a little cement box for nearly eleven months. I hadn't seen the sun in any of that time, and I was pasty pale. I was unable to get a haircut for the three months or so prior to going to court. In short, I looked like hell. There was also the bitterness factor. That is, I held so much anger against the police, prosecutor's office, and the way the Miseners had behaved with regard to my wife and daughter, my attorneys were concerned with how the jury would interpret my demeanor.
In a case where you are clearly holding the upper hand, it is risky for the defendant to take the stand unless it's necessary. You do not want to risk having certain jurors take a disliking to the defendant because of the way they look or react to questions. The jury has no idea what a person has been put through, either physically or emotionally.
There is a natural tendency to want to stand up and declare your innocence, and I felt every bit of that within me. However, I had to defer to counsel on the matter. Post-trial statements from several of the jurors indicated that they had made up their mind prior to the trial even beginning. As such, it is unlikely that my testimony would've had any effect on the verdict.
Q. Why didn't you at least make a statement at sentencing, stand up and say that this was a godawful accident and that you were innocent? What could possibly have been the downside?
A. The best way to answer your question is with a question. That is, what did I have to gain? The judge had already made up her mind as to what she was going to do; this was made readily apparent by the way she scored
the guidelines. She was involved in her campaign for the Court of Appeals, and had virtually every press representative you could ask for in the court room. After the trial was over, she even cited my case as an example of her qualifications for the job she was vying for … She even had the gall to call me arrogant, when I had done nothing but remain silent throughout the whole ordeal.
All of this was expected. As such, counsel had advised me to refrain from "casting my pearls before swine." I had absolutely nothing to gain by doing so, and everyone who really knows me believes that I'm innocent at any rate, and those who watched the actual trial itself with any degree of objectivity, knew at the very least that the prosecution had failed to prove otherwise.
Q. What do you think happened in that bedroom while you were in the bathroom? Did you and Brian Legghio ever entertain the thought of suggesting suicide? Do you think that is a possibility? Perhaps Leann followed you to your meeting with Judge Chrzanowski the night before and wanted a dramatic payback.
A. What I think happened is this: Leann couldn't, or didn't want to, get the bullet loaded into the magazine I had handed her. She had never done this before, and it does require a bit of dexterity and strength in the fingers (there's also the possibility that she didn't want to break a nail—she was a manicurist, and was usually careful about doing things like that). So instead of loading the clip, she would place it with the gun in the safe on the dresser, saving me the loading task for later. I had never told her that I already loaded the gun, and in fact she might have believed that the magazine she was holding was intended to be inserted into it. Nevertheless, I believe she reached over and took hold of the gun, believing it not to be loaded, placing her thumb on the trigger, and her fingers on the back side of the grip. The reason I have for envisioning this is because of the forensics. The blood spatters on the right grip would not have been there had the gun been fired in a conventional manner. That is,
if either her right or left hand had held the gun as it was intended to be held, that portion of the grip would have been covered by her hand. At any rate, even the prosecution seemed to concede, during their rebuttal summation, that the gun must have been fired in this fashion.
We don't know whether Leann squeezed the gun while picking it up, or if she applied the pressure as she was attempting to stand. The spattering on the mirror indicated that she was still on the bed (the mirrored dresser was located at the foot of the bed, where the gun was lying on its case; Leann was sitting closer to the pillows at the other end). The spatter on the bedspread indicates the same. Furthermore, we don't know how far Leann was leaning toward the gun case at the time the firearm discharged, or whether she had righted herself prior to. Given these variables, I cannot say what I believe happened with any degree of certainty in this regard.
Of course, when investigating and preparing for a trial, all possibilities are considered. But when the forensics are taken into account, it seems unlikely that Leann would have held the gun in that fashion if she had intended to kill herself. But for purposes of the trial, the issue was left open to conjecture. That is, the question was not ours to answer.
No one could ever convince me that Leann committed suicide, however. I knew her well, well enough to know that she could never do such a thing. Not only would she never do something like that to herself, but she could never do something that would hurt our daughter, or our child she was carrying. We were as happy as we had ever been in a long time, especially with a new baby on the way. She had no reason to want her life to end. Even if she had the desire and will to do such a thing, it would not have been with a gun. In my heart, I will always believe that her actions were nothing more than leaning over and taking hold of an object that she meant to put away, without a reason to think twice about what she was doing, or how she was doing it.
Needless to say, it is difficult for me to reflect upon the possible scenarios, although I've replayed them in my head a million times or
more since that day. Not only because it involves the death of my wife and child, but also because of the role I played. Had I put the gun in the safe myself when I got up to leave for the bathroom, or even told her that it was loaded, my wife would still be with me, and I would've been able to experience becoming a father for the second time, the indescribable feeling of holding your child for the first time. This reality haunts me to this day, I think about it often, lamenting my irresponsibility and the cost of it. In some ways, I believe that although I was convicted of a crime I did not commit, it is easier for me to cope with it when I consider the things I should have done differently. Perhaps a small part of me believes that I deserve it. I know that this is something that I will carry with me for the rest of my days.
With regard to your "payback" scenario, I believe that you should save that idea for your next book, it sounds intriguing. Again, there is no way that anyone could ever convince me that Leann's death was a suicide. Furthermore, Leann would have never even thought up something like that. I'm not saying she wasn't smart, because she certainly was, but it's not something she would have ever considered. Leann once told me that if she ever saw Susan, she would kick her butt. I didn't know if she was actually serious or not, but she was confident that Susan wouldn't go to the cops afterward. She was smart enough to figure that out. At any rate, I would expect Leann's reaction to be more along those lines, certainly as opposed to inflicting harm, or worse, upon herself.
Q. Do you in any way feel betrayed by Judge Chrzanowski? Is there anything she could have or should have said or done to help you out?
A. Susan's testimony benefited the defense far more than it assisted the prosecution. This is evidenced not only by post-trial statements made by the jurors, but as bad as that jury was toward the defense, they couldn't bring themselves to believe that my relationship with Susan was any kind of motive. Hence the second-degree verdict, without premeditation. Susan cooperated fully with the proceedings, and she told the truth. We
were confident that this would benefit us, and we were proven correct.
Although I was unable to speak with her, I am confident that Susan knows I am innocent. She knows me better than anyone. She knew that I still loved Leann, despite our prior problems, and despite my feelings for her. She also knew that my little girl is the most important thing in the world to me, and that I could never do anything that would hurt her in any way. However, if she had said anything along these lines, it would've discredited her. The headlines would read: "Judicial Mistress Tries to Save Boyfriend!" The press would have been all over it, and the prosecution would have used her statements to try and support their silly theory.
In the court room, proof and truth are mutually exclusive things. And unfortunately, all too often, one comes at the expense of the other. In this case, the truth served us best.
Q. Where does an appeal stand now? And what is the timing from what you hear regarding the soonest it could be heard or acted upon?
A. Appeals take at least a year or so to get through the first level. God willing, this will not be necessary for us. We currently have a very powerful motion to remand for a new trial in front of the new trial court judge, Rae Lee Chabot. The motion is based upon the improper conduct of the jury during the deliberation process, as seen on the "20/20" program that aired last November. The experimentation, we argue, was improper, because they were considering evidence not produced at trial. This conduct violated the court's instructions, as well as denied my right to a fair trial. That is, jurors cannot be witnesses, particularly outside of the court room.
The initial hearing date is scheduled for April 25. Presumably, an evidentiary hearing will be scheduled soon after, with the jurors testifying as to their conduct in the deliberation room. It should be quite interesting. Given the strength of our argument, which is buttressed by the "20/20" video, which is fairly dispositive with regard to the issue, we are quite
optimistic, but cautiously so. We are hopeful that the new judge will offer a fresh, if not a little more fair, perspective. At any rate, she is not currently campaigning, which I think is a definite bonus.
Q. How optimistic are you that an appeal can be successful?
A. If an appeal is necessary, it is difficult to gauge. Reversals are rare, particularly in the state system. State judges are elected, and reversals, even though they might be perfectly just and appropriate, are often held against a judge during elections by their opponents. This is especially true of high-profile cases. The federal system, on the other hand, is run by judges who sit by appointment. As such, they are free to rule without the political/job security concerns. As such, particularly because my case is high profile in nature, I have a bit more faith in the federal system. We have strong appellate issues, however, and my appellate counsel has certainly earned his good reputation. He has managed to garner just decisions from the state appellate courts with regard to cases having far less compelling issues than my own. As such, I am guardedly hopeful that if an appeal is necessary, we will be successful without having to take the case to the federal level.
What matters most to me is my daughter. The only hope she has lies with our success. The longer the process takes, the longer she will be forced to live in a household that would raise her to believe that she is one-half monster. This is more than I can bear; it has become my driving force in seeking a remedy.