Part three: A man who was convicted of the voluntary manslaughter of Cummings' neighbor is taken into custody in Nevada.
Jerry’s Dogs in Tustin
Nov. 14, 2005
Mustard and onions on mine; the works for Deputy D.A. Larry Yellin. Add salted peanuts in a styrofoam cup and a Diet Pepsi, and it passed for fine dining for a newspaper reporter.
It had been more than a year since the heartbreak with the exhumation, but Yellin had promises to keep.
He handed me a copy of a six-page document, some sort of formal legal paper prepared by investigator Ed Berakovich.
I tried not to get mustard on it as I read. The syntax was clunky.
“I have interviewed hundreds … victims, witnesses and suspects … suspicious death of LINDA CUMMINGS … ruled a suicide … reopened due to present day forensic technology … investigators had doubts … expert on manual and ligature strangulations … reviewed photographs … professional opinion … cause of death was manual strangulation … ligature marks were post-mortem …”
So there it was in legalese and black and white: The death of Linda Cummings was being treated officially as a homicide. She was dead before she was put in the noose.
My hot dog was getting cold. He motioned for me to read on. He kept eating.
“Based on the above information … it is my belief that there is probable cause to issue an arrest warrant.”
“When?”
“Next week, Thursday.”
“I want to be there.”
“It’s not up to me … (however) if you’re staying at the Green Valley Casino in Henderson on Wednesday, you might see some people you know.”
•••
The Henderson (Nevada) police SWAT team moved into position a few minutes after dawn in a quiet neighborhood for seniors surrounding an upscale golf course.
A dozen policemen, in full riot gear, bulletproof body armor and with tear gas canisters clipped to their belts, were ready to jump on the running boards of the SWAT van when the command was given.
Detectives from the Santa Ana Police Department rolled up in unmarked police cars and parked at strategic spots near Peoria Street.
A few members of the Orange County District Attorney’s Office were waiting up the street – with binoculars – in unmarked cars.
The arrest of Louie Wiechecki, more than 31 years in the making, was now a mission in progress. And I was just around the corner in a white SUV waiting to witness the moment. I tried not to fidget.
Berakovich went in first with SAPD Detective Dean Fulcher. They questioned the suspect – Louis Wiechecki, the former apartment handyman who was the last person to see Linda alive, and the one who reported finding her body. Berakovich and Fulcher hoped to get a confession, but they settled for Wiechecki’s admission that he had sexual contact with Linda near the time of her death.
Berakovich and Fulcher left the residence after 45 minutes. But before Wiechecki could take a deep breath, the Henderson SWAT team stormed through the unlocked front door of his residence. He was placed under arrest based on an Orange County warrant charging him with the murder of Linda Cummings.
We got there in time to see Louie escorted out of the house, hands cuffed behind his back. I didn’t recognize him for a moment and my heart sank. Had they arrested the wrong guy?
But then he looked straight at me. Those were the eyes I’d seen in court, the eyes of the man who was convicted of the voluntary manslaughter of Marion Camilla Morgan, 78, another resident of the Santa Ana complex who was killed five weeks after Cummings’ body was found. Oh, yeah, I knew those eyes. That was Louie Wiechecki.
Two hours later, the Orange County team was processing the arrest. The SWAT team was gone. The only outsiders left in the neighborhood were Register photographer Jebb Harris and me.
Sue Stanley, the suspect’s second wife, told me, “I couldn’t be married to a more wonderful person.”
She said Lou had spoken about Linda only once in their three decades together, describing her as a woman who committed suicide at the apartment where he worked. He told her that authorities back in 1974 had tried to connect him to her death.
But she wondered: Why now? Why after 31 years was he arrested now? Why after her husband had avoided trouble since his parole? … She seemed genuinely puzzled. I told her the police believed her husband murdered Linda Cummings.
“So do I,” I added, deciding on full disclosure even if it ended our conversation.
After a pause she said: “I just think that whatever evidence they’ve dug up – whatever all of this is about – I just hope that the person he has become will count.”
It was time for me to ask the question that routinely ends all my interviews: “Anything else you’d like to tell me?”
Sue shook her head. But there was something she was eager to ask me. “Who is the best lawyer in Orange County?” She said she wanted to hire him “no matter how much it costs.”
Her question caught me by surprise. I had to admit that she was asking an expert on that subject, but I certainly didn’t feel comfortable giving her a name. In the first place, it could get awkward having declared a favorite among the top lawyers I covered every day.
On the other hand, I wanted Louie to have excellent defense. It would undermine the legitimacy of any conviction if Louie could argue afterward that he received ineffective assistance of counsel.
So I gave her the names of six lawyers generally considered to be among the best criminal defense attorneys in Orange County.
Sue interviewed them all.
And she hired John Barnett.
Coming Thursday, part four: What will a judge rule when charges are brought 31 years after Linda Cummings’ death?
