TEN

Lady Justice

The arrest of Jill and her boyfriend as suspects in the grisly murder of the prominent hardware store owner was big news in Steamboat Springs. Jill had been an exceedingly busy woman during the past three decades of her life, and the dreadful accusations were also big news around the country.

At various times she lived in a half-dozen states or more, married nine different men, romanced others, obtained divorces in the United States and in Haiti, was adopted once, raised three sons, and made loyal friends and bitter enemies.

Her myriad romantic and domestic entanglements and business dealings left a trail that was untidy at best. At worst, it was a nightmare for any investigator to follow, whether law-enforcement officer, private detective, journalist, or author. The path she took was twisted, and diffused into an impenetrable fog like a haze of smudged fingerprints. Some of the questions about Jill and her life will probably never be fully answered.

People who knew her and the men and women she interacted with, reacted with a mixture of emotions ranging from anger and disgust to pity and relief.

Private eye Stan Lewis bestowed on her a classic nickname that is commonly used for women who are suspected of murdering their husbands.

“She’s a psychotic, vicious, ruthless black widow,” he told a reporter. “She takes a sadistic, fiendish delight in preying on well-meaning men to facilitate her ultimate goal of furthering her financial welfare.”

Lewis had delivered a solid verbal spanking, but he hadn’t yet exhausted his descriptive repertoire. “She was very manipulative and knew how to press the right buttons. She’s no doubt a psychopath and a very sick person,” he added to Steamboat Pilot reporter Joanna Dodder.

Dodder was quoted, in turn, in an interview with The News-Journal in North Manchester. “Everyone here is saying she did it … It’s really bizarre. Everyone kept coming to us with all kinds of stories, and now we are finding out a lot of them are true.”

“I think she got to the point after twenty years of scams, she got this false sense of security of what she could get away with,” Judy Prier-Lewis, the Denver P.I. remarked to another journalist.

“She was able to turn men’s brains to mush,” Chronicle reporter Bardwell told Weller of the accused murderess.

In Ottumwa, reporter Alan Pierce of the Chronicle, hurried to Mohee Hanley’s house after learning of the local connection to the bizarre story. The house was locked up and it sounded like a big dog was raging inside. He left and didn’t go back.

“I’m thankful to be alive,” said Carl V. Steely in Culver. “If you were to meet her and talk to her, you’d think she’s just the greatest person you ever met. Why would all these people marry her if she weren’t that way?” he added in another statement.

“She’s a master of dirty tricks,” he told the author in additional remarks. “I mean it was so funny, the things she’d think to do, you wouldn’t take her seriously.”

“The Houston murder was my brother and I’ve always thought that she did it,” said Charles Coit. “She’s ruined a lot of lives, whole families.”

“He grabbed his chest like he was going to have a heart attack,” Houston Police Department Detective Sgt. Binford said of Roy Carroll’s response when he was told about the trouble his wife was in. “He’s in total shock.” After his first stunned reaction, the retired Navy chief reportedly clammed up and responded to police efforts to interview him by telling them to talk to his attorney.

In New Orleans, Judge DiRosa was “unavailable for comment,” according to a report in The Times-Picayune. He ducked inside a house when he was tracked by television cameras.

“She was a beautiful damn woman, and cold clear through,” added B. B. McCurdy in Houston.

Twenty years of fast living had apparently changed that, according to the observations of a woman at the North Manchester Library after seeing a picture of a frizzy-haired Jill being led away in handcuffs by police. “She was so dramatic and beautiful when she was in business here. Then people saw her on television after her arrest and the reaction was: ‘Oh my. She didn’t age well!’”

Even Eldon Metzger spoke out, and when he at last broke his silence, it was to defend the woman he was once married to. He complained to The News-Journal the information compiled by private investigators in Colorado was slanted against her. “Most people didn’t really know Jill. There was a side to her that isn’t being reported that was very kind,” he said. “… She gave, and gave and gave.”

“I just can’t believe she had in her whatever it takes to be a murderer,” said her friend, Nancy Reed, the North Manchester town clerk.

Michael’s longtime friend from US West also joined in. Troy Giffon telephoned Denver’s Channel 4 news and reported he had received a threatening telephone call after talking with police. He wouldn’t let the threat keep him from testifying at the trial, he insisted, however. When reporter Rick Sallinger asked what he was doing to protect himself, Giffon replied, “Guns, caution, watching. The Greeley police will take care of it.” He accused Jill of being responsible for a “river of tears.”

Greeley police confirmed they were investigating a call that contained what Sgt. Carl Alm described as “moderately threatening language.” He refused to be more precise, and added that police couldn’t confirm it was specifically related to the murder case. The police department refused to release a report on the incident, and another sergeant said there weren’t even any officers assigned to investigate it.

The news coming out of Steamboat Springs and Houston was an astounding story, even without occasional inaccuracies in some reports that gave the slightly erroneous impression Jill was married at various times to ten or eleven different men. Some early reports indicated Michael was her tenth husband.

To most men and women who may have been married once or twice, she was a record setter.

Throughout her life, Jill managed to be many different women to many different people. As the year-end holidays of 1993 approached, she was still playing multiple roles.

To the prosecutor and police, she was a ruthless woman who was accused of the grisly murder of her husband in Steamboat Springs—and was a strong suspect in the disturbingly similar murder of another spouse in Houston twenty years earlier.

Police in Houston responded to queries from news agencies and other interested parties about the status of the investigation into Clark’s murder, however with oddly divergent statements.

During a telephone call to the Houston Police Department, Joanna Dodder says she was told it was too late to reopen the investigation. The file on the case was lost. The small-town reporter was astounded by the statement.

“You mean you lost the file?” she asked again, in disbelief.

“Well,” the anonymous Houston PD spokesman explained, “we have lots of homicides here.”

DelValle told The News Journal in North Manchester he talked with Houston police and reported they might re-open the old murder case there.

Months after Jill’s arrest when the Houston Police Department was petitioned through the Texas Open Records Act for information about the case for this book, the request was forwarded to the City Legal Department. The legal department passed it up the ladder to Texas State Attorney General Dan Morales in Austin for an opinion. The city’s legal experts stated in their letter to Morales they believed the request should be exempted from the act because “the case has remained open” and was “now under active investigation by the Homicide Division of HPD due to new information…”

Disclosure of the information could interfere with the investigation into Clark’s slaying and potential prosecution of the suspect in the case. The Steamboat Springs Police Department had also asked the investigative file be kept confidential while the SSPD established the case against their suspect.

The opinion was pending as the murder charges against Jill and Michael were about to go to trial in Colorado.

Twenty years after leaving Houston, following his brother’s funeral, Charles still hadn’t heard anything from police about the matter. “I don’t know why they won’t open the case,” he says.

The behavior of Houston police department bigwigs is curious for people with nothing to hide. There were various reasons that would seem to justify reopening the investigation and actively seeking information. The telephone calls to the Houston police department that were traced back to Jill’s bed and breakfast in Steamboat Springs were one. The similarities in the manner of Clark’s murder and Gerry’s slaying were another.

In Colorado, the Steamboat Springs Police Department, the Greeley Police Department, the CBI, and other cooperating law-enforcement agencies conducted a sparklingly professional investigation they could be proud of. Of course, the investigation didn’t end with the arrests.

While St. James and defense attorneys began the demanding task of preparing for one of the most dramatic, sordid and highly-publicized criminal trials in the history of Colorado’s Fourteenth Judicial District, investigators still had much work to do. New witnesses were contacted, and people already interviewed were talked to again. Every lead had to be followed up.

A few weeks after the arrests, Judge Doucette imposed a gag order on police, prosecutors, defense attorneys, and others involved in an official capacity with the case. The court order didn’t slow the rush of publicity, however, and stories about the lurid affair were prominently featured as far away as London, England, where the popular tabloid, the Sunday Mirror printed a photograph of Jill in custody, and a major story headlined, “Murder Cops Unravel Real Black Widow’s Deadly Web.” The article predicted a quickie Hollywood film would be made on the subject.

Jill helped fuel the firestorm of publicity by giving a few carefully-selected interviews. She talked to a reporter for the TV tabloid show, A Current Affair, and she did a far-ranging interview with Denver’s Rocky Mountain News.

When she met at the jail with a reporter for the tabloid TV show, Jill had trouble keeping straight the dates she married and divorced her husbands, and was occasionally forced to consult a crib sheet she brought with her for the interview. One matter she was firmly consistent about, however, was her insistence she never murdered anyone.

Ignoring twenty-year-old divorce records, she denied there was any trouble in her marriage with Clark before his murder. She was waiting in New Orleans with the boys where the family was planning to relocate when she learned the dreadful news he was dead, she said.

Her youngest son, as well as the Reverend Coit and B. B. McCurdy also appeared in the two-part television presentation. Coit spent about three hours hanging around for the interview and appeared for a couple of minutes on the show. McCurdy was on for a longer period. But with the exception of his mother, William was the most dramatically-riveting appearance on the show.

Jill’s youngest son vowed to have no more to do with his mother if it was proven she was involved in his father’s murder. “This is my mother. People are calling her the black widow, the most poisonous spider there is,” he said. “Maybe it’s true.”

When Jill chatted with a reporter for the Rocky Mountain News, she apologized for the way she looked. She was dressed in the usual baggy orange trousers and a gray sweatshirt with the words “ROUTT COUNTY JAIL” stenciled on the back in ugly black capital letters. Her current appearance wasn’t the real Jill, she explained. The real Jill Coit had class.

During the talk, she traced some of her background and insisted she didn’t kill Gerry. She explained she married him because of his intelligence, despite hearing stories he was bisexual. He stood out in Steamboat Springs because most of the available men there were “ski bums,” she explained.

She agreed she was not pregnant while she was married to him, but begged off going into much detail about the matter because the civil suit was still pending. She hinted, however, that plans for an adoption of a child may have been involved. Her new attorney in Denver had wisely counseled that some subjects were, by necessity, off-limits.

Jill took a verbal potshot at Steely, whom she referred to as “the ugly part,” and scoffed at his intimation she may have tried to kill him or to have him killed.

Stories circulated in Steamboat Springs and elsewhere that Jill was charging for interviews, and was paid thousands of dollars for the television appearance. Although Klauzer and his partner were no longer working for Jill in her criminal or civil case, the Steamboat Springs lawyer was representing her in efforts to peddle her story to television and movie producers and book publishers.

Douglas Boggs called reports of her efforts to sell broadcast, movie, and book rights to her story “bizarre.” In written remarks, the murder victim’s relatives declared: “The Boggs family is extremely disappointed that Jill Coit and her lawyers are seeking to profit from the sensationalism of either this case, the death of Gerry Boggs, or the events of her life. We are confused about why her attorneys withdrew from her case, yet they continue to represent her in the film, book rights, and the story of her life.”

When Worth Weller telephoned the SSPD from Indiana, Rick Crotz explained he couldn’t talk because a defense request for a gag order had been approved. The detective suggested the reporter talk to someone at The Steamboat Pilot, according to Weller. The enterprising Indiana reporter and newspaper publisher did that. He also drove to Steamboat Springs and interviewed Jill at the detention center.

They barely had time to settle down on opposite sides of a heavy clear-glass barrier in the sparkling clean, brightly-lighted room and begin to talk through telephones, before she boasted about how she was losing weight on the jail food. It wasn’t very good or very plentiful, she said, as she stood up and patted her hips to show how she had slimmed down.

Getting down to more serious talk, she traced her version of her troubles with Gerry Boggs and firmly denied she had anything to do with his murder. At the trial, her attorney would either pinpoint the real killers or at least provide details about the type of people they were and reveal their motive, she claimed. Jill complained she was being picked on because she was an outsider in a close-knit community run by people close to the Boggs family.

When Weller asked about the reports she tricked Gerry into believing she was pregnant by him, Jill explained it away by saying they were planning to adopt a child. “We were very happy about that,” she told the reporter. “I don’t do fake pregnancies. I have real children. You know who they are.”

At the conclusion of the hour-long sit-down, Jill said she expected to be back in North Manchester in March, after the trial, to visit with her mother and friends who have stood by her.

The baptism of fire for the defense attorneys and the prosecutor occurred weeks before the News-Journal interview when they at last squared off at the downtown courthouse in a preliminary hearing before Routt County Judge James Garrecht.

The most devastating testimony came second-hand from Seth, when CBI Agent Kitchen recounted her interview with him. The CBI agent quoted him as telling her about the efforts to enlist him in Gerry’s murder and in the disposal of the body. Seth was called to the witness stand for brief questioning by the defense and conceded he was granted immunity from prosecution in return for his testimony in the case.

Although Seth appeared in court, as far as reporters were concerned it seemed he and his wife had gone underground. They cleared out of the Oak Street Bed & Breakfast, and workers there refused to reveal where the couple was or to answer any other questions. For awhile, at least, they were reportedly in Atlanta where Julie’s parents lived. Roy Carroll also pulled up stakes in Houston for awhile and went to Gulfport, Mississippi.

Investigators continued interviewing witnesses and collecting new evidence well into the new year. Steamboat Springs police served a warrant and opened a bank safety-deposit box rented by Jill and found several handguns inside. None of them were the .22 caliber pistol they were looking for, however, and none of them were seized.

Other warrants were served to: the American Telephone & Telegraph Company in Denver for records of calls made on an AT&T calling card made out to Jill Backus; the NorWest Bank in Greeley for Michael’s personal banking records; and the J. C. Penny Credit Service Center in Littleton for an account in the name of Jill Coit.

A .22 pistol surfaced from an unexpected location hundreds of miles away about that time, however. The couple who bought the bed-and-breakfast in Culver found the firearm in a box of possessions left behind when Jill and Carl split up. They turned it over to Culver Town Marshal Steve Michael, who telephoned Steamboat Springs police and told them about the discovery. The weapon, which was believed to belong to Jill, was old.

Initially, a detective in Colorado talked about flying to Indiana to pick up the unregistered weapon, but later advised the town marshal to contact authorities in Houston where another husband of Jill’s was also shot to death in an unsolved slaying. The pistol was at the bed-and-breakfast in Culver at least two years or more, and couldn’t possibly have been used in the Steamboat Springs homicide. Marshal Michael wound up packaging the handgun and mailing it to the Houston Police Department, which had ballistics tests conducted on it.

Small caliber firearms such as .22s have a history of being difficult for ballistics experts to work with, but recent advances have made the job easier. Nevertheless, the tests on the pistol found in Culver reportedly failed to show a matchup with the bullets recovered after Clark’s murder.

Back in Colorado, Crotz and Kitchen paid another call on the Giffons, this time carrying an audiotape along with them. It was the telephone message left by the mystery male caller who claimed to be Gerry’s homosexual lover. After Agent Kitchen and the husband left the room, Crotz played the tape for Mrs. Giffon and asked if she recognized the caller’s voice. She didn’t. Before the tape was played for her husband, however, she told the detective about his frightening brushes with Michael riding to work and on the job with him after Gerry’s murder.

After Mrs. Giffon left the room, her husband was brought inside and the tape was played for him. He was a bit hesitant when he was asked if he recognized the voice, but told the detective it sounded like Mike Backus.

On another front, Judge Kourlis finally released the restraining order preventing sale of the Oak Street Bed & Breakfast, freeing up Jill’s assets to pay for her defense. The hostelry wound up being sold for a fraction of the amount she and Seth originally sought.

At the request of Gerry’s family, the civil trial itself was put on hold until the murder case was decided. Through their attorney, the Boggses argued that publicity over the civil lawsuit might prejudice the murder trial. Police and prosecutors also had custody of the files in the civil suit. Jill was representing herself in the case, since her previous attorneys were given court approval to pull out.

In the criminal case, the defendants publicly disclosed their alibis through documents filed in the middle of May. They claimed they were together at the national forest campground in Poudre River Canyon during a critical four-hour period on the Thursday afternoon of the day Gerry was most likely believed to have been slain. They said they checked into Kelly Flats about one PM, but left about four hours later and drove to Fort Collins, then to Thornton where they stopped at the Cactus Moon nightclub. They stayed at the club for about a half-hour from ten to ten-thirty PM, before driving to the house they shared in Greeley.

According to their account they were together at the house from about eleven-thirty PM until six-thirty the next morning when Michael left for work. He attended a training class until about ten AM then worked the rest of the day.

Jill talked with Ricky Mott downstairs about eight AM and left approximately forty-five minutes later to meet with a State Farm Insurance agent. She was back home again by nine-fifteen, then left at ten-thirty for the law offices of Greeley lawyer William Cresher. By eleven AM, she was beginning an hour-long class at UNC, and was back home again by twelve-fifteen. She left home about three PM to get the manicure from Mrs. Heiser.

The couple had an impressive array of witnesses to back up their account of their activities on Friday, October 22. But during the crucial hours the previous afternoon and evening there was a glaring lack of witnesses. Their attorneys were reportedly looking for someone who might have seen the pair at the Cactus Moon or elsewhere Thursday night or earlier in the afternoon.

Mott also threw a damper on the alibi when he told DelValle he thought it was odd that Jill left a note for him Thursday, advising him that she and Michael were camping. Michael had a nasty cold, and Jill was still on the mend from her hip surgery, and neither of them indicated before that they were camping enthusiasts, Mott related. The tenant thought Jill was making a special effort to be noticed at the house when she dropped in on him Friday morning.

Dozens of motions were filed and considered in the criminal case against Jill and Michael. A request by the defense to separate the trials was rejected. So was a move to suppress evidence and another defense request to dismiss the charges because investigators hadn’t more closely pinpointed the time of death. Judge Doucette stated there was no evidence of bad faith involved in the delay because investigators were waiting for a search warrant. “The danger of going into the house without a warrant is that all of the evidence obtained may have been suppressed,” he pointed out.

But a motion for a change of venue because of the pervasive publicity, the victim’s prominence in the community, and the reputed inability to select an impartial jury was granted by the court. Saint-Veltri cited an opinion poll conducted by the defense indicating forty-three percent of potential jurors in the district believed Jill was guilty.

The decision was only a partial victory for the defense, which had asked for the trial to be moved completely out of the Fourteenth Judicial District which embraces Routt, Moffat, and Grand counties. Jurisdiction remained in the district, but Judge Doucette moved the proceedings seventy miles southeast of Steamboat Springs to the Grand County Courthouse in Hot Sulphur Springs on the other side of the 9,426-foot high Rabbit Ears Pass. (The pass gets its name from a geological formation that gives it the appearance of a Playboy magazine logo.) Pretrial hearings continued to be held in Steamboat Springs, but it was a convenient move for the jurist, nevertheless. Both he and District Attorney McLimans lived in Grand county.

Jill’s hope of getting the show on the road and disposing of the trial within six months was not to be realized. The trial was originally set to begin on July 13, then set back to August 29, but even the later effort to comply with her desire for a speedy trial was hopelessly ambitious. When Judge Doucette moved the trial out of Steamboat Springs, he also rescheduled it to begin at 8:30 AM on February 6, 1995. He set aside four weeks on his court calendar for the proceeding. Once more, summonses were mailed out to expected witnesses in the case. Carl Steely was looking forward to the trip back to Colorado. He planned to take his skis along.

In October 1994, almost a year from the day Gerry’s body was found at his house, a large two-column display advertisement appeared in the Pilot with the headline: “INFORMATION WANTED.” A private investigator working for lawyers for one of the defendants was looking for information to help identify the killer or killers, the ad stated. An 800 number was provided for callers.

The defendants continued to wait out the long process at the Routt County Detention Center still held under $5 million bail each. Jill was keeping occupied with her books, helping other prisoners study for GED examinations, and reading her news clippings. Outside the jail, the man whose life they were accused of ruthlessly snuffing out, was still being mourned by his family and friends.

Inside Boggs Hardware, a framed photograph of Gerry was hung as a tribute. An inscription by his friend, Judy Prier-Lewis, read: “A practical man with a heart of gold leaves much behind. He leaves memories and a place in the hearts of each of us who were touched by his gentle hand.”