3A. Patty Prewitt's Story as Told by Patty
UNSOLVED MYSTERYSince you have stumbled upon this website, you may ask yourself, “How did a nice gal from a great family get in such a horrid fix?” And that is a very good question.
What has happened to my husband, me, and our children is the stuff Lifetime cable movies are made of – except that in a couple of hours in a movie, all the loose ends are secured and no mysteries remain by the time the credits role. Not so in real life.
THE PRE-MURDER
In February of 1984, after a late Friday night out with friends, my husband and I returned home and went straight to sleep with the sound of hard rain pounding the bedroom window. As usual, we had a busy Saturday planned – of work at our Mom and Pop lumberyard and a trip to a neighboring college for our flute-playing 12-year-old to compete in a band concert.
THE MURDER
I was awakened by a gunshot that I thought was a clap of thunder, and before I could react, I was yanked out of bed by my hair, thrown on the floor, and raped at knife point. As soon as the perpetrator left, I climbed across the bed to find my husband dying. In a panic I woke our 4 young children, ages 12 through 6 (our 14-year-old was away at a sleep-oven) and drove a couple of miles to the neighbor for help.
INTERROGATION
Within hours, the local county cops decided I had to be the murderer, even though I passed a gunpowder residue test that proved that I had not fired a gun. The lead investigator told me it was always the spouse. I was interrogated for hours and hours with no lawyer thinking it was important to help the police find my husband’s killer. Of the over 17 hours of interrogation, only 15 minutes were taped by the police. I was charged with Capital Murder a week later and returned to my home on my own recognizance to await my day in court that came about 14 months later, April of 1985.
LUST
When the police asked if Bill and I were involved in extra-marital affairs, I said no. And I meant it. We had gone through a separation over five years prior and I didn’t see how ancient history had any bearing on today. In this small backwoods community rumors run abound, so it didn’t take long for the cops to come back to me about rumored affairs. I admitted that, years ago, when Bill and I were living apart and considering divorce, we were unfaithful. The investigator’s opinion was that an unfaithful wife possesses killer tendencies, but conversely, it’s a man’s nature to roam. The investigator didn’t care that Bill and I had mended our relationship and our marriage had been solid for years. I was labeled a lying slut from then on.
GREED
As soon as the police arrived at our house the morning of Bill’s murder, they removed the insurance file from the cabinet. We had 2 active life insurance polices on Bill worth $93,472.09 total. But our business and farm debt totaled around $170,000. This was all brought up at trial, but was presented in such a long boring laborious way that I swear the jury didn’t catch the point that we owed much more than the worth of Bill’s insurance. If I were my defense attorney now, I would simply make a poster with the figures plain as day. Then everyone can see that greed was not a factor and could not have been a motive.
LUST AND GREED!!!
But I was a passive dummy at trial, and the prosecutor kept hollering, “ Lust and Greed—even though He had no current or even recent lovers to present and absolutely no facts or figures to sustain their money theory. There was no evidence of lust or greed. But I learned that in trials, evidence and facts are not that important. Inference is. And a sullied reputation can never recover.
NO PROOF OF GUILT
There was no proof of my guilt. But there was no proof of my innocence unless you take into consideration the gunpowder residue test. Experts agree that it proves that I did not discharge a gun. There is plenty of proof of police incompetence and mishandling of the crime scene.
PROSECUTIONS SUICIDE THEORY
Just prior to trial, the prosecutor has serious doubts of my guilt, and as he was combing over the coroner’s report, he realized that my husband’s front tooth was missing. This caused him to theorize that Bill had shot himself in the mouth and that I had invented the story of the strange murderer, cut my own throat, and bruised myself to cover the suicide. Why would I do this? Because I would have wanted the life insurance to pay and suicides weren’t covered.
I should have allowed them to maintain this theory and remained free. But again I was too stupid to do anything but tell the truth. And the truth was that Bill had a cop on his front tooth from a basketball game injury in high school. This cap fell off now and then. Also, one of our neighbors had recently and tragically committed suicide to make sure his family was financially taken care of. Suicide is an insurance payable death. The prosecutor’s whole premise was wrong. But do you see how easily the prosecution changed versions of their stories?
PLEA BARGAIN OFFERS
Trials are fueled by plea agreements. It’s the horse-trading part of the law. Most defendants are indeed guilty for the crime and are most happy to bargain for less prison time. Those of us who are not guilty are not so eager to make deals, and that is what gets us in big trouble. I stubbornly stupidly refused to take a plea. The prosecution was running scared with no murderous motive, and if I had accepted their final desperate offer, I would have returned home in 1991—in time to prevent my older son’s apparent suicide. That monumental decision haunts me every single minute of every single day.
WITHHELD EVIDENCE
Right after the three-day capital murder trial, I bonded out, returned home and found out that on the very night of Bill’s murder a neighbor lady and her teenage son had seen a strange man in a white sedan parked near their home and in such a place that he could watch our house. That very morning she found the Sheriff and told him what she’d seen. While reading the account of my trial in the local newspaper, she wondered aloud why that stranger wasn’t mentioned at the trial. Her daughter told me, and I called my attorney who sent his investigator to her home to get her statement.
APPEAL DENIED
A month after my trial, we went back to court asking for another trial because of this new evidence that was withheld by the prosecution. It was also brought up that when the jury sent word to the judge that they were deadlocked, the bailiff told them to try harder, thus instructing them that the judge would not allow indecision. The neighbor lady sat uneasily on the stand and told what she’d seen. The Sheriff hemmed and hawed that she might have told him. He just didn’t know – to the best of his recollection. The judge pounded his gavel and judged that new evidence of a strange man lurking and stalking our house on the night of Bill’s murder would not have swayed the jury from their strong decision that I was the murderer—even though they were deadlocked during the hours of their deliberations. And this is justice?
WHY WAS BILL PREWITT MURDERED?
Why was Bill murdered? I do not have the definitive answer to that, but I do know that when our oldest daughter moved up to high school, we were appalled to find out that illegal drugs were available all over town. We had moved to this community a couple of hours from Kansas City to be away from that element. Bill and I could have found great jobs in the KC area, but we wanted to raise our kids in a safe place. That’s when Bill began his own investigation of the drug trafficking in Johnson County. Neither one of us had the slightest idea how dangerous these people really are. And honestly until I’d served prison time with women who live this drug life did I learn of how evil it is. I believe Bill was too close to uncovering dangerous ties and facts, I believe that some of the police in the area were part of the problem. Drug money lures people who are normally paid modest wages. There is no mystery in that.
TWENTY-FIVE YEARS LATER
My four children have grown up beautifully and produced ten spectacular grandchildren for me to love and adore. But I remain in prison serving Life With No Parole for 50 years, which means that I will not be eligible to leave prison until my interview with the Board of Probation and Parole in April of 2036. I will be 86 then. I have no possibility of paroling until the full 50 years is served. And the years I served on bond working and living with my family in our community does not count toward the required mandatory minimum of 50 years.
TRUE VICTIMS OF THIS MURDER
My dear husband is the first and foremost victim, but our grown children are living, grieving victims of his murder. Since they know I am innocent, they pray every day that I come home to them. My younger grandchildren mail me drawings of “Granny” in their houses wishing I could visit their homes. My elderly parents pray that I return home before they die. We are all victims of this senseless murder.
SUGGESTIONS
Dear reader, if you have any idea of a method to free me, please let us know. We have petitioned every court and every governor. We are preparing an appeal for clemency to Governor Jay Nixon that we hope to present before Christmas, 2009. We welcome your support and your help. The wrongly-convicted exist on a diet of hope – which during some years is one of starvation rations, at best.
If you feel moved to do so, you can write a letter to Gov. Jay Nixon, P.O. Box 720
Jefferson City, MO 65102 or use the email form at http://governor.mo.gov/contact/. If you do so, it would be useful for us to receive a copy at commutepatty@gmail.com.
Thank you for taking the time to read this.
Patty Prewitt [+/-] show/hide this post
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