The Five Million Dollar Man
Tuesday, August 6, 1991
Outside of Jeffrey Dahmer’s cell in the Milwaukee County Jail, a uniformed guard sat twenty-four hours a day, watching the prisoner to make certain he did not try to commit suicide. In that special section of the jail, only one prisoner is put in each cell, unusual in a time when overcrowded jails are the norm around the country. But police had no desire at all to place him among the general prison population, not if they wanted him to live. Since he had killed and butchered so many people, Dahmer’s chances outside of solitary
confinement would have been slim, particularly since black prisoners might have revenge on their minds when they came near the man who had murdered so many men of their race.
On Tuesday morning, August 6, the guard, with other police officers at hand, opened the door to the one-man cell and Dahmer stepped out, wearing a traditional orange prison jumpsuit over a blue T-shirt, which showed in a dark triangle at the open collar of his overalls. His face was clean-shaven and washed, and he looked rested, with his hair neatly combed. It was time to face the cameras and the court once again. He ambled into the Milwaukee County Circuit Court, slope shouldered and with a blank face, his jaw moving slowly as he masticated a piece of gum and his eyes drilling fearful holes in some of the camera lenses, as if he could see through the film and into the heart of anyone who gazed at him. Three uniformed bailiffs, guns on their hips, marched along with the prisoner this time. There was some cause for concern, for threats had been made. Those who came into the courtroom that day had to first undergo searches by officers who swept hand-held metal detectors over their clothing, and a big dog, a Belgian Malinois named Mirza, had sniffed every inch of the courtroom prior to the hearing, hunting explosives that might have been secreted by someone wanting to kill the killer. The bomb-sniffing nose of Mirza detected only the smell of furniture polish in the
courtroom and disinfectant in the adjoining bathrooms. The court was secure.
District Attorney McCann waited at the prosecutor’s table with new facts, new names, and new information relating to the massacre, and he had a new request for the court. Judge Jeffrey A. Wagner was on the bench this time, with the courtroom filled with the news media and the usual spectators who turned out for the event. But there was something new. The first rows of the court, right behind the waist-high wooden rail, were reserved for relatives of the victims. The three deputies took seats in front of that rail, separating the audience from the prisoner, who folded his tall frame into a wooden chair, put his elbows on the armrests, and clasped his hands.
There was something odd about him. Dahmer looked comfortable, almost at ease in his new world of confinement. Spectators were seeing a man who had involuntarily gone on the wagon, who hadn’t had a drink for fifteen days. Jeffrey Dahmer had been sober for a day more than two weeks. Plenty of rest and no booze! In addition, he no longer was facing the stress of losing his job and having to pay rent. In jail, he got three square meals and a place to sleep and somebody, the guard on the suicide watch, with whom he could talk. The change in surroundings, putting him in jail, had actually resulted in an improvement. A part of his own personal nightmare was at rest. The killing was over. And he had become a very important man. People around the world
knew the name of Jeffrey Dahmer, and his picture was everywhere. So it was little wonder that he was looking so different, so much more relaxed than at his earlier hearing.
At his side again was Gerald Boyle, his blue sport coat open and a hand to his mouth, paying rapt attention. The news was not good. His client was being charged with eight more counts of murder. McCann read out the even dozen names of people Jeffrey Dahmer said he had conquered. The drumbeat of accusations was almost monotonous, yet it grew more terrifying with each repetition as the charges were read:
CRIMINAL COMPLAINT
In the State of Wisconsin, Plaintiff, versus Jeffrey L. Dahmer, Defendant, Complaining Witness Donald Domagalski, being duly sworn, says that the above named defendant in the County of Milwaukee, State of Wisconsin
Count 1: First Degree Intentional Homicide
on or about March 26, 1989, at 2357 South 57th Street, City of West Allis, County of Milwaukee, did cause the death of another human being, Anthony Sears, with intent to kill that person contrary to Wisconsin Statutes section 940.01 (1).
Count 2: First Degree Intentional Homicide
during the Spring or early Summer of 1990, at 924 North 25th Street, City and County of Milwaukee, did cause the death of another human being, Raymond Smith a/k/a Ricky Beeks, with intent to kill that person contrary to Wisconsin Statutes section 940.01 (1).
Count 3: First Degree Intentional Homicide
on or about September 3, 1990, at 924 North 25th Street, City and County of Milwaukee, did cause the death of another human being, Ernest Miller, with intent to kill that person contrary to Wisconsin Statutes section 940.01 (1).
Count 4: First Degree Intentional Homicide
on or about September 24, 1990, at 924 North 25th Street, City and County of Milwaukee, did cause the death of another human being, David Thomas, with intent to kill that person contrary to Wisconsin Statutes section 940.01 (1).
Count 5: First Degree Intentional Homicide
on or about February 28, 1991, at 924 North 25th Street, City and County of Milwaukee,
did cause the death of another human being, Curtis Straughter, with intent to kill that person contrary to Wisconsin Statutes section 940.01 (1).
Count 6: First Degree Intentional Homicide
on or about April 7, 1991, at 924 North 25th Street, City and County of Milwaukee, did cause the death of another human being, Errol Lindsey, with intent to kill that person contrary to Wisconsin Statutes section 940.01 (1).
Count 7: First Degree Intentional Homicide
on or about May 24, 1991, at 924 North 25th Street, City and County of Milwau- kee, did cause the death of another human being, Tony Anthony Hughes, with intent to kill that person contrary to Wisconsin Statutes section 940.01 (1).
Count 8: First Degree Intentional Homicide
on or about May 27, 1991, at 924 North 25th Street, City and County of Milwaukee, did cause the death of another human being, Konerak Sinthasomphone, with intent to kill that person contrary to Wisconsin Statutes section 940.01 (1).
Count 9: First Degree Intentional Homicide
on or about June 30, 1991, at 924 North 25th Street, City and County of Milwaukee, did cause the death of another human being, Matt Turner a/k/a Donald Montrell, with intent to kill that person contrary to Wisconsin Statutes 940.01 (1).
Count 10: First Degree Intentional Homicide
on or about July 7, 1991, at 924 North 25th Street, City and County of Milwaukee, did cause the death of another human being, Jeremiah Weinberger, with intent to kill that person contrary to Wisconsin Statutes section 940.01 (1).
Count 11: First Degree Intentional Homicide
on or about July 15, 1991, at 924 North 25th Street, City and County of Milwaukee, did cause the death of another human being, Oliver Lacy, with intent to kill that person contrary to Wisconsin Statutes section 940.01 (1).
Count 12: First Degree Intentional Homicide
on or about July 19, 1991, at 924 North 25th Street, City and County of Milwaukee, did cause the death of another human
being, Joseph Bradehoft, with intent to kill that person contrary to Wisconsin Statutes section 940.01 (1).
Naturally, the charges of twelve heinous murders were accompanied by the redundant accusation that he was a habitual criminal and could get another ten years per victim on top of the dozen mandatory life sentences he now faced. The idea of having to serve an extra hundred and twenty years if he was caught had not deterred him from his murderous rounds.
Dahmer had known what was coming. Wendy Patrickus, the lawyer assisting Boyle, had gone through the document line by line with him prior to the court appearance. When Judge Wagner asked if he understood the charges being brought against him, Dahmer said in his soft voice, “Yes, Your Honor.”
In a macabre sidelight, Dahmer was asked if he objected to letting the medical examiner allow the families to claim the identified body parts taken from the apartment. Funeral services could then be conducted. Dahmer could have refused because the body parts were considered evidence and, by drawing that line to a distant conclusion, if he were not convicted, technically the evidence was his property and should be returned to him. He said that he had no objection.
The district attorney had stopped at twelve names because he did not have the identifications and the legal grounds in place to bring formal
charges for the remaining five victims that Dahmer had enumerated to police questioners.
He had to tread carefully, because he was building a ladder of homicide cases in which the only living witness was the man on trial. Everyone else involved was dead, and in some cases, there weren’t even any bodies to support Dahmer’s claim that he had killed them. Even as court was in session, the D.A.’s staff and the office of Medical Examiner Jentzen were still piecing together the identifications, much as if they were putting together a particularly complicated puzzle.
Judge Wagner supported McCann’s request for a higher bail, acknowledging the severity of the charges and the kind of violence detailed in the long criminal complaint. He agreed that a million dollars was not enough. He set it at five million instead. Once again, Boyle did not offer an objection. Jeffrey Dahmer wasn’t going anywhere.