Lauren Collins on the unraveling of an expert on serial killers.
David Grand's impossible to put down stories of mutiny and murder. Subscribe at newyorker.com slash dark and you'll get access to all of it. Plus a free New Yorker tote bag. I must say the very best tote bag around. That's newyorker.com slash dark. Just a note, this episode contains vulgar language that many listeners will find offensive. Previously on In the Dark. I wasn't even really stood. They've had more about it than I did.
They had it down pat for me. The day that you came in and made this statement, did I lead you to say anything? No. Was your statement free and voluntary? Saying to the exclusion of every other gun in the universe is insanity. He came and got it, said he was going to give it to the police chief, and that's the last I saw it. For years, you're telling me...
He killed some people here now. He never told me. This is In the Dark, an investigative podcast by APM Reports. I'm Madeline Barron. This season is about the case of Curtis Flowers, a black man in Mississippi who spent the past 22 years fighting for his life and a white prosecutor who spent that same time trying just as hard to execute him.
It's been 11 days since the U.S. Supreme Court overturned the conviction of Curtis Flowers. In a 7-2 ruling, the justices found a prosecutor in Mississippi violated the right of Curtis Flowers by unlawfully blocking... A lot has happened in the past 11 days. And I'm not just talking about the Supreme Court. In this episode, we're going to give you three chapters, each about something big. It's happened just in the past few days. Three things that are so big...
they could change the course of Curtis's entire case. Chapter one, the new lawyer. Over the past 22 years and six trials, Curtis Flowers has had at least 14 lawyers. He's had every archetype, the small town father-son legal team, the high-profile black nationalist lawyer, the dedicated public defender, the Innocence Project lawyer, and a pro bono team from a top East Coast law firm. And now Curtis has a new lawyer.
someone who's beaten Doug Evans before. His name is Rob McDuff, and he's taking on the Flowers case with the nonprofit Mississippi Center for Justice. McDuff has a law degree from Harvard and a lot of experience in getting wrongful convictions overturned. He's argued in one cases before the U.S. Supreme Court. He's been involved in getting several people exonerated and released, including the only woman on Mississippi's death row at the time.
In the Dark actually hired McDuff a while ago to help us with public records requests, though we ended that relationship as soon as we learned that Curtis had hired McDuff to represent him. And Rob McDuff is also someone whose name might sound familiar because we've actually talked about him on the podcast before. McDuff is a lawyer who represented the juror, James Bibbs, who was hauled out of the courtroom after Curtis's fifth trial after the judge ordered him arrested for perjury.
McDuff pushed to have Evans removed from that case and got it transferred to the Mississippi Attorney General's office. And then the office dropped the charge. And then there was the time McDuff went up against DA Doug Evans at trial. It happened in the case of Bobby Joe Townsend. We talked about this case in an earlier episode. Townsend is the black man who was accused of raping a white woman at a nursing home where he worked. He was convicted and sentenced to 30 years in prison.
But then the Townsend family hired McDuff. He got the conviction overturned by exposing misconduct by Evans' office. At a new trial, McDuff convinced the jury to find Townsend not guilty. And Bobby Joe went home. These are the Townsends, Vera and Bobby Joe. He was a black man, was going to prison, never get out. That's how it was going to be until we got Robert McDuff. McDuff, now he was good. He was good. I think if it wasn't for him, I wouldn't have got out of there if it wasn't for him.
If it weren't for him, he would still have been in prison. I really do believe that. We met up with Rob McDuff a few days after the Supreme Court decision overturning Curtis's conviction. To Rob McDuff, one of the things that stands out about the Flowers case more than anything is the sheer number of trials, six, and the fact that not one of the convictions has held up on appeal. This is unprecedented in capital murder cases.
Meanwhile, Curtis Flowers has spent 22 years in prison, most of it on death row. It is time to bring this case to an end and dismiss it without any further trials. At some point, Curtis will be moved from Parchman Prison. He'll almost certainly be placed in a county jail somewhere near Winona. He'll be held in what's called pre-trial detention. And this whole process takes a while. When a conviction is reversed by the United States Supreme Court, as it was here, it generally takes two months to
for the case formally to be returned to the trial court for further proceedings. Now, there is no specific date by which that must happen, but I anticipate it will probably be in August. When that happens, McDuff says, he'll start filing motions. And one of the first will be a motion to try to get Curtis released on bail. Now, it is unusual for bail to be granted in a capital murder case, but this is an unusual case.
And under these circumstances, I believe the law requires that he be granted bail. So we will see what happens with that. Rob McDuff says one thing the defense's bail motion will cite is a little-known Mississippi law that appears to require that a defendant be given bail in capital cases where there have been two mistrials. But it's unclear whether a judge will agree that the law applies to Curtis Flowers.
McDuff told us he also plans to file a motion asking a judge to dismiss the charges altogether. If the charges were dropped, that would mean Curtis would go free and the case would be over. If the charges are not dismissed and if a seventh trial is held, we will be there to defend Curtis. But given that the prosecution has been unable to obtain a valid conviction in six trials...
It is time for this case to come to an end, and we hope it does so. This whole process, the discussions and the motions, and the lead-up to a potential seventh trial, could take months, even a year or more. Meanwhile, unless he's released on bail, Curtis will stay locked up the whole time. Right now, DA Doug Evans is in charge of the case. But that could change.
Curtis's lawyer could file a motion asking the trial court judge to remove Doug Evans from the case. That's a long shot. Or the governor of Mississippi could send a request to the AG's office ordering it to assist Doug Evans. Or Doug Evans himself could ask the Mississippi attorney general to take over the case. None of those things has happened yet. After the Supreme Court overturned Curtis's conviction, Mississippi Attorney General Jim Hood basically told reporters his office didn't want the case.
He said that his office doesn't have enough prosecutors to handle it. Hood said he would rather see the case go to some other local district attorney somewhere in Mississippi. Based on what Hood was saying, it sounded like it was possible that if Doug Evans turned the case over to the AG's office, the AG would hand it over to another district attorney. Meanwhile, Doug Evans hasn't said much about what he's going to do. As of the airing of this podcast, as far as we know, Doug Evans has only given two statements—
One to us, saying he wasn't sure yet whether he would try the case again, and one to a newspaper in his hometown of Grenada, Mississippi. Doug Evans told them the case, quote, will have to be retried. Chapter 2. Willie James Hemphill.
On the same morning, the Supreme Court struck down Curtis's conviction. Something else was happening, hundreds of miles away, in a courthouse in Indianapolis. So we're in the lobby of the East Wing of the Superior Court. It had to do with a man named Willie James Hemphill, the man who told us that he'd been a suspect in the murders at Tardy Furniture. We're going to go up to the fourth floor, which is where the hearing is.
Before I tell you what we were there to talk to Willie James Hemphill about, we need to go back to the first time I met him, in June of last year, when he first told us that he'd been a suspect in the murders at Tardy Furniture. Just a reminder of what Hemphill said when we met with him last year. He told us that he'd been interrogated by law enforcement about the murders, that law enforcement told him that people had reported seeing him on the street outside of Tardy Furniture that morning.
He told us that he wore the same kind of shoe that made the bloody shoe print at the crime scene, and that law enforcement went on a multi-state manhunt looking for him, and that he'd been held in jail for nearly two weeks. But there was one big thing Willie James Hemphill had told me that I hadn't been able to check out by the time the podcast came out, where he was on the day of the murders, his alibi.
When I first met with Hemphill last year, he didn't seem to want to answer that question. So where were you? I was in another state. Oh, what state? That doesn't matter, I don't think. Okay. But I kept pressing him. And Hemphill started using a phrase.
If it wasn't for the fact that I had an airtight alibi, I could be the one on death row right now. That's interesting. Yes, I could very well be the one there if I went ahead and had an airtight alibi. That phrase, airtight alibi, he kept using it. If I didn't have an airtight alibi, I could very well
And kept using it. Though what that airtight alibi was, Hemphill at first wouldn't say. But finally, he told me what he said he'd been doing that day. He said that on the day of the murders at Tardy Furniture, he'd driven two hours from Winona to Memphis to go shopping at a mall.
I rode with a couple other people, so I had, you know, an airtight alibi. Or, you know, the people that I was with, they knew I couldn't have did it because I was with them the whole time. Who were you with that day? I'm thirsty, rather, at this point. But, I mean, had I had to go to trial, they would have known who I was with. But I don't want to bring anyone else's name into this. How come? Because...
I'm not on trial, and I don't specifically have to use anyone else's name. But after nearly two hours of talking, Hemphill did give me the name of the person he said was his airtight alibi. Tawanda Woods. Have you ever heard of her? Sorry? Tawanda Woods. Tawanda Woods? Yeah. Okay. Mm-hmm. Went to Memphis with me that day? Yes. So she was with you, like, the day of the murders? Yes. I see. Okay. Okay.
So she would have been your alibi person if they had checked. Yeah. Clearly, there was one person we absolutely needed to speak with. Tawanda Woods. Tawanda Woods. Hemphill said he couldn't have committed the murders because he had driven with Tawanda from Winona to Memphis that day to go shopping. She was his airtight alibi.
We tried to check that alibi, but we couldn't find Tawanda, and we released our episode about Willie James Hemphill without having talked to her. But over the past year, we kept trying to find her. And an address I had for her in Winona. If she's home, she could clear this up real fast for us. I feel like we just go for it. It was a trailer in an overgrown lot, but no luck. So she's not home. Here's no one's home. We kept stopping by.
Hi, are you Ms. Woods? Uh-uh. Okay. She's not here. She ain't went to the doctor for a while. Oh, no. Is she okay? Mm-hmm. Oh, okay. And again. And where are we going? We are going to Tawanda Woods' house again. How many times have we been there? Um, we have been there or been by there, I think, five times? After weeks of this, we decided to ask Tawanda's brother, Mike Woods, for help.
We'd met him many times before. He was always just hanging out on his porch, two blocks away from his sister's trailer. Hey. Hey, how you doing, ma'am? Wrong day today. Yeah? Yeah. Wrong day? Yeah.
Alaska. Alaska.
Alaska. His sister lives two blocks from him. His sister does not live in Alaska. As the weeks passed, we kept stopping by, trying to talk to Tawanda Woods. Tawanda, take who knows how many. Still, no luck. She said she don't want no company right now. Okay. Yeah, we were just hoping to talk to her for two minutes, but that's a no? Okay. Along the way, we ended up talking to a lot of other people about Willie James Hemphill.
I talked to a guy named Michael Forrest on his front porch in Winona. Michael Forrest knew Hemphill back in the mid-90s, around the time of the murders. He knew Hemphill by a couple of different names, Buster and Bust Down. Yeah, because he used to have a song called Bust Down. And he was a dancer to the song, just what he used to do all the time. It's called Bust Down, and that's why he got the nickname Bust Down.
Michael Forrest told me that Bust Down was a character. That Bust Down used to just walk out into the middle of the street, swinging around a cane and dancing. And this song Bust Down would sing... I'm going to try to find it. I'm going to find it on my phone. It is not for kids. So you'd see him, the song wouldn't be playing. He'd start singing. He'd start dancing.
And so, did he have a job? Right.
One want to go up, and the other one want to come back down. Which one of them more powerful? You can't tell the effects on what it's going to do to them. So back in the mid-90s, around the time of the Tardy murders, according to Michael Forrest, Hempel was up, and then he was down. He was smoking crack and smoking weed and dancing in the street. Then he got to do what he got to do to get them two drugs. Because you're not only buying crack, you're getting more of the weed, mind you. Then he wanted to drink.
So... This is, like, expensive. Yeah. So we got to do what we got to do to get this happening. Michael Forrest told me that Busstown would mostly get money by robbing people. Old people got too high or something, ain't paying attention. You know, older guys. Oh, yeah. Old people, drunk people, people who weren't paying attention. He'd rob stores, too. You got to do something to support their habit. So would he ever, like, talk about, like, people he robbed or anything like that? He ain't going to do that. If he did do something...
He wasn't going to come out in front of everybody, come out in the open, in the midst of it. He's not going to lock himself up. He's not that type of guy. Michael Forrest told me the bus down was going downhill by 1995-96, around the time of the Tardy murders. As time went on, those droids took over. They started going, declining down, down, down, down, until they finally hit bottom.
Michael Forrest remembers being in jail sometime in the mid-90s and seeing Bustown hauled in on some petty charge. He was strung out, his hair was messed up, he stunk up the cell and refused to shower. After five days, a bunch of inmates brought him into the bathroom and hosed him down because they couldn't take the smell anymore. No one would take a bath. You know what I'm saying? He was just, he was used to living filthy then. Hair all over his face. You'd tell he had just come off a binge on the street. So he had hit the bottom then when he came to jail.
So around the time of the Tardy murders, according to Michael Forrest, Hemphill had a serious drug addiction and was robbing people to get money to buy drugs. Michael Forrest kept using one word to best describe Bustown back then. Unpredictable. Unpredictable. I said the guy was predictable, man, the guy was predictable. You don't know what he's going to do. Willie James Hemphill had a long criminal record in the years before and after the Tardy murders.
Many of his crimes were brazen. It happened in the middle of the day, in busy commercial areas, near Hemphill's home, or in neighborhoods where people were likely to recognize him. Some of Hemphill's crimes involved robberies, including a robbery involving a gun. Others were even worse. This is a woman named Bernadette Nash. She dated Hemphill in the early 2000s. He was a drug addict, a thief, a criminal.
I don't have nothing nice to say about him. Nothing nice to say about him at all. Nothing. He put me in the hospital, so I don't have anything to say good about him. He stabbed me 13 times with a flathead screwdriver. Broke my collarbone. Punctured my lung. My eye. Oh, give me a minute. Yeah, that took me back. Excuse me. Yeah, this was a long time ago, but...
Yeah, I mean, yeah, it happened. I just, I remember waking up
All stitched and bandaged up. How they call it when you try to fight back? I had scars, bruises, cuts all on my knuckles, cuts in my chest. I had 13 staples in the top of my head. They had to shave my hair. I don't have anything good to say about it. He was trying to kill you. He was trying to kill me, yes. And he said that I'll never forget it. He said I'm going to commit homicide, suicide. That's what he said.
If I see him today, I'm going to take off running in the other direction because he tried to kill me. And I'm scared that he may possibly want to finish the job. Hemphill never went to prison for stabbing Bernadette. He still has an outstanding warrant for it. While I was learning all this, Tawanda Woods still wasn't getting back to me. Hi, this is Madeline. Okay. So in the meantime, I tracked down someone else who might know where Hemphill was on the day of the murders. Her name is Moncra Moore.
And in the summer of 1996, the summer of the murders, she was dating Willie Hampton. Hey! Munkra let us in, and we sat down in her living room. The room was dark, but Munkra had a laser machine that projected Christmas lights on the walls, a pattern of little red and green dots that moved around the room and across our faces as we talked. Buster was a real hyper guy. I'm serious. Hyper. If you dance with him, he knock your knee like this.
Munker said at the time of the murders, she and Buster were living together in a little house in Winona. We lived across the tracks on Branch Street. You know, Branch Street is across the tracks. We was living together.
On Branch Street. Branch Street. Branch Street was across the train tracks from Tardy Furniture. It was close to the store. In fact, if you were to draw a line between Tardy Furniture and the house on Branch Street, right near that line would be the spot where Jeffrey Armstrong said he found a gun. I'd gotten a copy of a court record that also said Hemphill was living on Branch Street back around that time. So when I talked to Hemphill back in Indianapolis last year, I'd asked him about it.
Did you ever live over on Branch Street? Branch? Yeah. Hemphill said he didn't even know where Branch Street was. I'm trying to think where Branch Street is. Where is Branch Street? We lived in that little alley on Branch Street. It's been 23 years since the Tardy murders, so who knows if Munker's memory is right. But here's what she told us she remembers about that day.
First of all, she told us, according to her memory, Hemphill was definitely in Winona on the morning of the murders. I probably got up like 6 o'clock. I had to be at work at the cleaners, I'm thinking at 7 o'clock. He probably was up with me because he stayed there that night. The Tardy murders happened later that morning, probably sometime around 10. The next time Munkra saw Hemphill, she said, wasn't until that evening. It was around 7, 8 o'clock when I seen him that evening. It was dark.
But that evening, we were smoking marijuana. He brought me some. We had a house. And we kicked it. We drank, smoked, had fun. So Munker says she saw Hemphill first thing in the morning, very early, and then she saw him again in the evening, when he showed up with an ounce of weed. But what about the middle of the morning, the range of time when the murders at Tardy Furniture happened? The time period Hemphill told us, he was up at a mall in Memphis.
One day last fall, we went out to make one last try at the house of Tawanda Woods, Willie James Hemphill's airtight alibi. I am going to strongly imagine no one's home here, but let's just do this. But this time, Tawanda was home. Hello? Oh, hi. How are you? All right. Can I take a minute?
Hi. Are you Miss Tawanda? Yes, but I don't want to talk. I don't want to talk. I don't even want to be affiliated with it now. Earlier part I did, but now I changed my mind. I don't mean no harm, but I... No, no, I get it. Yeah. The only thing I was wondering is if you can remember finding out about the Tardy murders. I remember, but I don't remember, and I just don't want to be affiliated with it anymore. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah.
Were you in Winona when it happened? Yes, I have lived in Winona all my life. Okay, but like the day it happened. I was here in Winona. I was going to the store. Tawanda said that on the morning of the murders at Tardy Furniture, she'd stop by the local grocery store. It was a Peely Weely day. I was coming out of Peely Weely and it was a woman. I'll never forget her name. It was a Jordan. She's like, girl, they just saying, oh, Miss Tardy got killed downtown.
And then later on on the news, I just seen all that. I said, oh, this was a woman telling me about this this morning. I was coming out of Peely-Wiggly, and she was saying something about this. So that's what they were talking about. You know, I just said that to myself. It was still in the morning time? It was still in the morning time. Because I remember I was coming out of Peely-Wiggly. I was coming out, and the woman was coming in. She said, you heard about Miss Bertha Crosby got killed downtown? I said, no, I ain't heard that.
So Tawanda remembered being in Wynonna at the time of the murders. She hadn't mentioned anything about Willie James Hemphill, Buster. So I asked her about him. Do you remember this guy Buster, Bustown? Bustown. Buster. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. So he said that he recalled being up in Memphis that day at a mall. And then he said that maybe he was there with you. He said my name.
Do you remember if you saw him that day? I can't recall seeing him that day. Tawanda said that, yes, she would sometimes go to the mall in Memphis with Buster. She liked to stop by the Victoria's Secret and buy perfume. We did go to the mall, but it wasn't that day of the killing. It wasn't that day. The reason that Tawanda was so sure that she wasn't in Memphis on the morning of the murders...
is because, like she said, she clearly remembers being at that grocery store in Winona and finding out about the murders. So that's how I know that I wasn't in Memphis that day. I know for a fact that I wasn't in Memphis that day. Hemphill's airtight alibi wasn't airtight at all. We asked Tawanda if anyone from law enforcement had ever come by to ask her if she'd been with Hemphill on the day of the murders. Ain't nobody never talked to me about a buster with a giant pill of a child.
Y'all are the only one. Ain't no kind of law enforcement or nothing came to me about it. Nothing. Willie James Hemphill's alibi had fallen apart. He had told us that if it weren't for that alibi, he could have been the one on death row. So we wanted to tell him what Tawanda had told us. But we didn't have any way of getting in touch with him. As far as we knew, Hemphill didn't have a phone or a fixed address, and he wasn't responding to our messages on Facebook. So we kept checking the court docket, hoping his name would pop up.
And then, just recently, it finally did, and our reporter Parker Yesko and producer Brita Green headed to Indianapolis to see if they could find him. They arrived at the courthouse early on Friday, June 21st, the same morning the Supreme Court issued its ruling in the Flowers case. Willie James Hempel showed up around 8.50 a.m., about an hour or so before Justice Brett Kavanaugh would begin reading the decision that would overturn Curtis's conviction. Willie James Hempel. How are you?
It's the same mystery. It's like, how did you get, how did your name get involved in this? I have no idea. I wasn't in the city. If you recall our last conversation, I wasn't in the city. You said you were in Memphis with Tawanda Woods. You said, you told us that.
Okay. You said that was an airtight alibi. Well, I don't know what it was, but they released me based on that. You said you were with Tawanda Woods. You said it was your airtight alibi, and we talked to Tawanda, and she said she wasn't with you that day. Well, evidently the FBI checked it out because they released me. They said they didn't have a case against me. Tawanda said nobody ever came and checked an alibi with her. She said she wasn't with you. I informed them to check the footage at the mall.
Went to Mahler, Memphis, because that's where we were. But, like, I guess the question is, like, we're just trying to puzzle through this. Like, what are we supposed to think if you tell us you're with Tawanda? And she tells you I wasn't? Yeah. Like, what do you make of that? A lot of people don't like to talk to the press and the police.
So maybe she just didn't want to talk to you guys. Well, she was actually pretty talkative. Twanda's like actually one of the most talkative people. Oh, that's my partner. That's your what? That's a friend of mine. That's a good friend of mine. Maybe she don't even recall the actual day in question. She actually has like a really clear memory of that day. Oh, really? Yeah.
She remembers being in Winona. She remembers going to the grocery store and she remembers walking out of the grocery store and encountering a friend of hers who was literally like Bertha Tardy. Something just happened, yeah. And we was leaving. And Minhar was leaving, exactly. So, I don't know what I'm saying. So you were with her when
You're confusing me. I don't know. I don't know what she told you. Evidently, she didn't want to talk to you. If she told you what she told you, that's fine. I was nowhere around. I've been clear. So if you guys were together... I don't understand how she said that. I don't understand. The one thing that makes sense to me is that maybe you told us that. I don't really think this would be...
that bad, right? Like if you had been on Front Street. No, I wasn't. And you had seen something. I'm done talking to you. You're trying to put me on Front Street. Somebody else put you on Front Street. Well, okay. Go talk to them then. But what are we supposed to do with the fact that your alibi was in checkout? I want you to say that you're some bullshit and I want you to stay away from me. Thank you. You're harassing me. You're harassing me right now.
But Parker still needed to ask Hemphill a critical question. Did you commit the murders at Tardy Furniture? Did you? No. Are you a slut? Are you a whore? No. You sell pussy for interviews? No. Well, leave me the fuck alone. I mean... Hemphill left and went back into the courtroom. Then he came back out and started pacing. Mr. Hemphill, you didn't answer my question. You didn't answer my question before. And I'm not going to answer it. Did you commit the murders at Tardy Furniture? Hell no.
Hemphill got into the elevator and left. At trial, District Attorney Doug Evans claimed that all of the evidence pointed in one direction only: toward Curtis Flowers.
But from our reporting, it's now clear that at least some of the evidence could point in another direction, toward another suspect. And so, if Curtis Flowers is tried again, it's quite possible that the jurors who will decide his guilt will hear the name Willie James Hemphill.
You come to the New Yorker Radio Hour for conversations that go deeper with people you really want to hear from, whether it's Bruce Springsteen or Questlove or Olivia Rodrigo, Liz Cheney, or the godfather of artificial intelligence, Jeffrey Hinton, or some of my extraordinarily well-informed colleagues at The New Yorker. So join us every week on the New Yorker Radio Hour, wherever you listen to podcasts. Chapter 3, Clemmie.
While we were down in Mississippi recently, after the Supreme Court's decision, after we talked to Willie James Hemphill, we picked up a copy of the local paper. Curtis Flowers' story was front-page news, with a headline that said, Flowers' sixth murder conviction overturned, and a huge photo of D.A. Doug Evans in the courtroom at Curtis' sixth trial, holding up a large picture of the area behind Tardy Furniture.
Standing next to Evans, looking at the exhibit, was one of Evans' star witnesses, a woman from Winona named Clemmie Fleming. Clemmie was one of Doug Evans' route witnesses, one of the people who testified to seeing Curtis on the morning of the murders. Clemmie's testimony was by far the most important to the state of any of the route witnesses, because Clemmie put Curtis the closest to Tardy Furniture. She said she spotted Curtis running maybe about a block and a half away from the store.
Lots of people in Winona had nothing nice to say about Clemmie. And the reason for that was that they thought she'd made up a story about seeing Curtis to try to get the $30,000 reward that had been offered in the case, that Clemmie was willing to send a man to his death just to get some cash. Some people even said Clemmie had told them she lied. This is one of Clemmie's friends, Latarsha Blissett. She always would tell me she lying and she going to tell the truth. And I said, well, just tell them the truth.
And she tells you this all the time, that she lied? I always am, but when we go to court, it'd be a different story. When I talked to Clemmie more than a year ago, unlike a lot of the other route witnesses, she stuck by her story. I seen it, man, like I can erase it and make it go away. It happened, it happened. So much of the evidence in the case against Curtis Flowers has fallen apart. The jailhouse informant, Odell Hallman, reversed himself. The ballistics analysis turned out to be junk science.
and witnesses gave statements to us that contradicted what they'd said in court. But Clemmie's story remained, and it was compelling. A firsthand account of seeing Curtis running from Tardy Furniture on the morning of the murders. Right now, as the case stands today, there is no stronger witness for the state than Clemmie Fleming. After Curtis's conviction was overturned, I started to wonder whether maybe we should try to talk to Clemmie one more time.
So a week ago, our reporters Parker and Samara went to Clemmie's sister's house. It had been just three days since the Supreme Court overturned Curtis Flower's conviction. I was wondering if your sister's going to testify again. I don't think she will. She don't really talk about it. She just said she's just tired of it.
Mary Ellis said that she and Clemmie had been on the outs for a while. But just recently, they started talking again about all kinds of things. She hadn't talked to me in a long time about it. And then she told me, she said, Mary Ellis, she said, I want to talk to you about something. I said, OK. It was about the Curtis Flowers case. I said, well, Clemmie, I'm not trying to tell you what to do. I said, but just tell them. I said, just call somebody up and say, look, I want to talk to y'all and I want y'all to know.
And it's over with. Your mind will be clear from it. I would love to talk to Clemmie. Okay. Yeah, we would just love to talk to you guys. Well, we were tonight, so I'll ask her tonight. The next day, Mariela texted us and told us that Clemmie was ready to talk.
But when Parker got to Mariela's house, I just got here. You just got home from work? Uh-huh. Sorry to catch you. Clemmie wasn't there. She was a no-show. I had texted her, but I might need to go over there. You want to ride with me? Yeah, why don't I have you here? Okay, come on. So Parker and Mariela drove over to Clemmie's house. She probably didn't even know us. Nadaja. Open the door, Nadaja. How are you? Your mama said she was going to talk to them while you look like that. My mama's asleep, though. Tell her to get up.
Come on. She was talking to everybody. They're all here today, Clemmie. Clemmie got up and came out. She was wearing red pajama pants printed with pink and white hearts. She sat down next to her sister Mariela on the couch. Hey, Ms. Clemmie. Thank you so much. I know it's rough to get woken up, and I'm really grateful that you're willing to sit down. You want to grab a seat? Mariela had mentioned...
that you wanted to talk, and I'm kind of here to listen. We wanted Clemmie to take us back to the beginning, to how she came to be talking to law enforcement about Curtis Flowers in the first place. I was real young, like I was, that was 23 years ago. When you're young, you don't know what you do. You know, you get caught up in stuff. You don't want to get caught up in. You're not young anymore, and they can't scare you up.
Back in 1996, Clemmie was 20 years old. She was pregnant and living in Winona. One day, she said, she saw Curtis near Tardy Furniture. It was one morning that I had got up. I went and I was in front of the store.
And when I was in front of the store, I seen her running, like on that road. It was just a quick thing, seeing Curtis, this guy she knew, near the furniture store. Then one day, after some time had passed, Clemmie was hanging out with her cousin. It was after the murders at Tardy Furniture. Frida, man. Oh, girl. What'd you tell Frida? Well, no, we were just talking, just talking in general, and all that. We were just talking.
Freda and Clemmie started talking about Curtis Flowers. She was telling me, yeah, he worked in a store. And I'm like, I didn't know that. I remember me telling her that I had seen him. You know, I seen him one day. And then that's when she was like, it might have been the same day that they got killed. And I was like, I don't know. You know, like, I really don't know.
Clemmie was saying that sometime after the murders, she told a cousin that she remembered seeing Curtis near Tardy Furniture. But she wasn't sure what day it was. She certainly didn't remember it specifically happening on the morning of the Tardy murders. And this conversation might have ended there. Maybe nothing would have come of it. Except... She told somebody, and I guess that's how they got the information. Frida wasn't the only person Clemmie talked to.
Clemmie said she also mentioned this vague memory of seeing Curtis near Tardy Furniture to a woman she worked with. And with me and her, we were talking about...
So you had basically said the same thing to her, oh, I saw Curtis running one day. Yeah, well, yeah, we were talking and me and her were talking and I did tell her. And she must have told somebody because she had to tell John Johnson, I think. She mad at him. John Johnson was the DA's investigator. And then that's when he started crushing me.
So she told the cops to talk to you also? A couple people, it sounds like. And they told me that too. They said a couple people then told us that you knew something, but you ain't telling. Clemmie said she can't remember exactly how many times she spoke to law enforcement. She remembers some officers coming to her house at some point. She also remembers talking to law enforcement at the police station.
But the story Clemmie told Parker about how law enforcement questioned her, parts of it were pretty similar to stories we'd heard from other route witnesses. Did they ask you, like, what had you seen? No, they just, well, they were like they already knew what I had seen, like somebody already had told them. So evidently they already knew what I seen. They were just waiting on me to tell what I seen. They were like, you know something? And I was like, no, I don't.
Clemmie says the investigators wanted her to say that she'd seen Curtis on one specific day, July 16, 1996, the day of the Tardy murders. The whole time I've been telling them, like, I don't remember the day. Like, I always did try to tell them, you know, I don't remember what day I was kind of confused or what day. It was like, I don't know.
But it sounds like you did say that to the investigators from the start, that you didn't know the date. I tried to tell them, but he wasn't listening. He wasn't hearing that. What was he hearing? What he wanted to hear. According to Clemmie, the interview got really heated. He was in my face, all in my face. He was aggressive. He was talking like, you know, I'm going to jail. You know how you be aggressive with people? He was just...
Yeah, it was rough with me. So it was like, you go into jail and, you know, you'll get your baby took from you. You won't get to see your baby. And all kinds of stuff to me. And what were they telling you they were going to send you to jail for? Holding, I had evidence and I was holding evidence.
You know you got some evidence, and that's evidence. And they kept on saying, if you didn't tell what you know, you're going to jail. Like, he was real aggressive. I mean, what choice did you feel like you had at that point? I had to go and tell them what I knew or go to jail. Clemmie ended up giving an official statement to Doug Evans' investigator, John Johnson. I have a transcript of it. It was taken in April of 1997, nine months after the murders.
And it begins with John Johnson saying to Clemmie, quote, Ms. Fleming, I want to direct your attention back to July 16th, 1996, the day the people were killed in Tardy Furniture Store. Do you remember that day? Yes, sir, Clemmie said. Clemmie went on to testify in all six of Curtis's trials, saying every time that she was certain she saw Curtis running from Tardy Furniture on the morning of the murders.
What happened each of the times, each of the times there was a trial? I hated it every time, every time we'd go. And you had to point them out. You had to look at his face and point him out. What made you each time still go ahead with it? It's just that I know that I already had said it, so I had to keep saying it. And it wasn't no lie. It just was our confusion with day. I don't know what day.
It's like I put him on that day that it happened, and I don't know what day. I've been confused all day from the beginning, and I just didn't know how to just say it. I was scared I was going to go to jail. I'm glad myself that you got to talk to her and to get off your chest because, you know, by you being my sister, I want you to know. I ain't going to get hurt. Wally.
In the past week,
We've done everything we could to try to reach DA Doug Evans, to try to talk to him about all this, to see whether what Clemmie had told us would affect what he decides to do next in the case, to see what he'd make of Willie James Hemphill's alibi not checking out, and to try once again to talk with him about everything else we've discovered in the past two years. We stopped by Evans' office several times, tried to find him at court, left him phone messages, went to his house. He wouldn't talk.
This way. The morning after talking to Clemmie, our reporter Parker met up with Curtis' father, Archie Flowers. They went for a walk. Ooh, it's hot. It's good for you. You're kidding me, right? Mm-hmm. Sweat. They walked across the old burned-out school lot. Ain't got nothing but the gym out there now. Oh, feel that breeze? Oh, that feel good. Nice. How often do you make this walk, Archie? Maybe about every month.
Archie Flowers was going to the cemetery to visit the grave of his wife, Lola, who died a year ago. Archie Flowers walked over to the spot. There was a little green plastic stand, a temporary card with Lola's name on it. It says Lola Flowers.
Lola Edith Flowers. I knew they'd call her that. I called her Lola, a lady. There's like a big bouquet of white flowers and another one of carnations and another one of sort of orange flowers. When the kids did it. The kids, well, they said they were going to get a head start. They put a name on there. God love you and I do too. What do you think it would be like one day if there was another trial?
And Curtis was acquitted. He just, they said, not guilty. Mm-hmm. I don't know. Poor Curtis, I guess. I don't know. He went through so much. And we've been through a whole lot. Time to get this stuff out of the way. I'm just hoping and praying. I'm praying for him to get home. And all my worries will be over. It'll make me shout. I do.
If there is a seventh trial, we'll be there to cover it. If the case is dropped and Curtis is set free, we'll be there too.
We're also going to get started soon reporting on a whole new story for season three of In the Dark. So please stay subscribed in your podcast feed. In the Dark is reported and produced by me, Madeline Barron, senior producer Samara Fremark, producer Natalie Jablonski, associate producer Raymond Tungakar, and reporters Parker Yesko and Will Kraft. In the Dark is edited by Catherine Winter.
Web editors are Dave Mann and Andy Cruz. The editor-in-chief of APM Reports is Chris Worthington. Original music by Gary Meister and Johnny Vince Evans, who also mixed this episode. Additional original music by the Melody Kings. Reporting and production assistance by Brita Green, Nikki Pedersen, Hina Srivastava, Chris Julin, Curtis Gilbert, and Tom Sheck. Photography for season two of In the Dark by Ben Depp.
We also want to thank John Hernandez, Michelle Liu, Hunter Hart, and Greg Kahn. I'm Dan Taberski. In 2011, something strange began to happen at the high school in Leroy, New York. I was like at my locker and she came up to me and she was like stuttering super bad. I'm like, stop f***ing around. She's like...
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