Illinois law enforcement groups opposed legislation requiring police to tape their interrogations of suspects. But just before a watered-down version of the bill became law last week, they discovered the practice makes their work easier and more credible.
For instance, in one of Kankakee County’s first attempts at videotaping the interrogation of a suspect, Christopher Connery, accused of raping and murdering a woman, claimed he was innocent. He was told his interrogation was being videotaped by a hidden camera, but he must have forgotten because after detectives left the room he began singing “Ding, dong, the wicked witch is dead.” He was convicted and is now serving a life sentence at the Pontiac Correctional Center.
Another example comes from Hennepin County in Minnesota: a suspect, claiming to be blind, was filmed reading a newspaper once interrogators left the room.
“We saw a videotaped confession of a suspect in Chicago who confessed to a heinous crime while eating a hamburger and drinking a Coke–show that to a jury and guess how they’ll vote,” says Laimutis “Limey” Nargelenas, spokesman for the Springfield-based Illinois Association of Chiefs of Police, which originally opposed the legislation along with another current supporter, the Illinois Fraternal Order of Police. “In many ways, we think with this new law we’ll be able to put more people on death row than ever before.”
Nargelenas says his group came onboard after changes were made that severely limited the legislation. Changes included giving police departments the choice to record suspects on video or audio tape, and restricting the law to murder cases only. Police also won a provision requiring all recording to be conducted at police stations, making room for on-the-scene confessions that couldn’t be captured on tape.
“As a police officer, you’d get people who would confess at the scene of a crime. You can’t wait for lights, cameras, and action,” says Nargelenas, a former police officer for 25 years. “We said, ‘Let’s make it so it’s specific: there has to be a dead body, a suspect, a Miranda reading, and it has to take place at the police station.’ Maybe as we progress, we can make recordings in more and more cases.”
Putting a suspect’s testimony on tape is nothing new. By as early as 1998, at least 2,400 law enforcement agencies were following the practice, according to the New York Times. As a result of court orders, Minnesota and Alaska now require the recording of interrogations and confessions.
Illinois’ law doesn’t state how sophisticated the recordings must be. In Sangamon County, a camera sits on a stand in the interrogation room at the county building on Ninth Street. Some police departments conceal a video recorder behind mirrors or within a fake thermostat, such as in Kankakee County. However, a simple, cheap tape recorder that sits on a table still counts.
The Sangamon County Sheriff’s office has already been videotaping murder suspects for a year, says Sheriff Neil Williamson. “It’s the next best thing to having the jury there in the interrogation room.” Fifteen Sangamon County squad cars are also equipped with video recorders, which are used for traffic and DUI stops.
Williamson says he began to videotape murder suspects in order to restore trust in law enforcement and to protect police officers. He says reports of police brutality in Chicago provided the motivation. “The Chicago cases gave law enforcement a bad eye. We need all the help we can get.”
The measure was one of six criminal justice reforms signed into law by Governor Blagojevich last Thursday in Chicago. Nargelenas says the cost of implementing the law is still the biggest concern among police departments, many of which would rather purchase more bullet-proof vests than cameras. Finding government grants for police departments to purchase recording equipment is currently in the works, he says.
Smaller police departments in Sangamon County that can’t afford recording
equipment can use the sheriff’s, says Williamson. But Williamson suspects complying
with the law won’t be too difficult. “They all have two years to go to Circuit
City and buy a nice $500 camera.”
This article appears in Jul 24-30, 2003.
