According to Higgleby, the primary causes of wrongful conviction include witness misidentification, an incompetent or inadequate defense, the use of jailhouse informants and prosecutorial/police misconduct or mistakes.
For Skinner, however, it was the testimony of the one person he should have been able to trust—his mother—that sealed his fate. “If not for the way my mother protected my uncle, and herself, my brother would not have gone to prison and lost such a big chunk of his life,” said Laurel Hodges, Skinner’s sister, a divorced mother of two who has fought diligently for her brother’s freedom. It was Hodges who contacted Innocent America and convinced them to take a look at his case.
“Laurel’s faith in her brother was unyielding. I absolutely couldn’t tell her no,” said Higgleby. “But this case would never have reached a happy resolution without Geraldine Lawson.” Ex-wife to Skinner’s uncle, Lawson came forward with information about the night Crawley was killed that caused police to reopen the investigation.
Gary Lawson has since been charged with Martin Crawley’s murder and is being held without bail in Los Angeles while awaiting trial. Skinner’sown mother is suspected of asking her brother to carry out the murder, but no charges have yet been filed against her.
Comfortably dressed in sweats again now that she was back from taking Virgil to the motel, Peyton read the article twice, then searched the internet with Ellen Crawley and Ellen Lawson, in case she’d gone back to her maiden name, Geraldine Lawson, Martin Crawley, Virgil Skinner, even Laurel Hodges as keywords. But other than a short piece in the L.A. Times mentioning Ellen and Gary’s implication in the fourteen-year-old shooting, she came up empty-handed. During regular business hours, she could probably get hold of someone in the federal system who might agree to run his prisoner ID number. But since he’d been released, that might not give her much. She already knew where he’d been incarcerated, at least at the end of his sentence, and for how long. What she wanted was the rest of Virgil’s story….
Leaning back, she glanced at the clock. Nearly nine. Not terribly late. She wondered if she’d be able to reach Wallace. She hadn’t planned to tell him that she knew Bennett wasn’t who she’d been told he was. But now that Rick had left Crescent City, maybe they could have a private conversation. She had Wallace’s cell number in her electronic phonebook. He’d given it to her more than a month ago, when they’d met for dinner to discuss the growing gang problem. He hadn’t suggested anything like what they were doing with Virgil, but she guessed he’d been thinking about developing Operation Inside even then.
She brought up his contact information while walking into the living room, where she could pace in frontof the wall of windows that looked out onto the dark ocean.
He answered almost immediately. “Don’t tell me something’s wrong.”
She realized what he must’ve thought, hearing from her so late and so unexpectedly. “No, nothing.”
“Then what’s up?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“At nine o’clock on a Saturday night?”
“Sorry, but I’m glad you’re available.”
“I’m not…not really. I’m at the airport, waiting in the security line. You’ve got maybe ten minutes. So what’s going on? Is it Bennett?”
“Don’t you mean Skinner?”
He went silent. Then he said, “How’d you find out?”
Being purposely vague to avoid an outright lie, she kept it simple. “I did some research.”
He didn’t question her further. Was it because he knew he hadn’t put any work into that sketchy bio? “Skinner’s the one who wanted to use a false name,” he explained. “I was just trying to accommodate him, for safety reasons.”
His safety wasn’t worth doing a better job?
“Otherwise, I would’ve told you.”
She stared up at the stars, which seemed far brighter
For Skinner, however, it was the testimony of the one person he should have been able to trust—his mother—that sealed his fate. “If not for the way my mother protected my uncle, and herself, my brother would not have gone to prison and lost such a big chunk of his life,” said Laurel Hodges, Skinner’s sister, a divorced mother of two who has fought diligently for her brother’s freedom. It was Hodges who contacted Innocent America and convinced them to take a look at his case.
“Laurel’s faith in her brother was unyielding. I absolutely couldn’t tell her no,” said Higgleby. “But this case would never have reached a happy resolution without Geraldine Lawson.” Ex-wife to Skinner’s uncle, Lawson came forward with information about the night Crawley was killed that caused police to reopen the investigation.
Gary Lawson has since been charged with Martin Crawley’s murder and is being held without bail in Los Angeles while awaiting trial. Skinner’sown mother is suspected of asking her brother to carry out the murder, but no charges have yet been filed against her.
Comfortably dressed in sweats again now that she was back from taking Virgil to the motel, Peyton read the article twice, then searched the internet with Ellen Crawley and Ellen Lawson, in case she’d gone back to her maiden name, Geraldine Lawson, Martin Crawley, Virgil Skinner, even Laurel Hodges as keywords. But other than a short piece in the L.A. Times mentioning Ellen and Gary’s implication in the fourteen-year-old shooting, she came up empty-handed. During regular business hours, she could probably get hold of someone in the federal system who might agree to run his prisoner ID number. But since he’d been released, that might not give her much. She already knew where he’d been incarcerated, at least at the end of his sentence, and for how long. What she wanted was the rest of Virgil’s story….
Leaning back, she glanced at the clock. Nearly nine. Not terribly late. She wondered if she’d be able to reach Wallace. She hadn’t planned to tell him that she knew Bennett wasn’t who she’d been told he was. But now that Rick had left Crescent City, maybe they could have a private conversation. She had Wallace’s cell number in her electronic phonebook. He’d given it to her more than a month ago, when they’d met for dinner to discuss the growing gang problem. He hadn’t suggested anything like what they were doing with Virgil, but she guessed he’d been thinking about developing Operation Inside even then.
She brought up his contact information while walking into the living room, where she could pace in frontof the wall of windows that looked out onto the dark ocean.
He answered almost immediately. “Don’t tell me something’s wrong.”
She realized what he must’ve thought, hearing from her so late and so unexpectedly. “No, nothing.”
“Then what’s up?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“At nine o’clock on a Saturday night?”
“Sorry, but I’m glad you’re available.”
“I’m not…not really. I’m at the airport, waiting in the security line. You’ve got maybe ten minutes. So what’s going on? Is it Bennett?”
“Don’t you mean Skinner?”
He went silent. Then he said, “How’d you find out?”
Being purposely vague to avoid an outright lie, she kept it simple. “I did some research.”
He didn’t question her further. Was it because he knew he hadn’t put any work into that sketchy bio? “Skinner’s the one who wanted to use a false name,” he explained. “I was just trying to accommodate him, for safety reasons.”
His safety wasn’t worth doing a better job?
“Otherwise, I would’ve told you.”
She stared up at the stars, which seemed far brighter
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