On July 19, 1982, Marvin Anderson was at work when he was asked by his supervisor to come speak to police. The officers questioned Marvin about a rape that had occurred over the previous weekend. Marvin told the police what he knew about the crime – details he had heard because he lived in the neighborhood where it had occurred. The police asked Marvin to come down to the station to answer more questions and he agreed. Since he was innocent, he had no reason not to. What Marvin didn’t know was that the man who had committed the rape had told the victim that he “had a white girl,” and because Marvin was the only black man that the investigating officer knew who lived with a white woman, he had automatically become a suspect. Even before questioning Marvin, the officer had gone to his employer and obtained a color employment identification photo of him. The victim was shown the color photo of Marvin along with a half dozen black and white mug shots and was asked to pick her assailant. She chose the color photo of Marvin. Less than an hour later, the police assembled a lineup where Marvin was the only person included whose picture was also included in the original photo array shown to the victim. She identified him in the lineup as well.

Information that another man may have confessed to having committed the crime against Beernsten was ignored by Manitowoc sheriffs, who claimed they “already had their man.” When skin cells found under Beernsten’s fingernails were tested for DNA and revealed there were alleles present that did not match either Beernsten or Avery, the judge ruled this irrelevant, arguing that she might have obtained them when coming into contact with paramedics or others. Meanwhile, there was no evidence of her scratching any of those persons.

Avery was eventually exonerated when the technology advanced enough so a set of pubic hairs taken from the victim could be tested for DNA. Only two of the hairs still contained their stems, and only one of those two did not come from the victim herself. In the end a single remaining hair was found to have come from the same man who had previously confessed to the crime, but had been ignored by the Manitowoc County Sheriff’s Department.

Avery was freed and became a local celebrity. New state laws were enacted in his name.

He filed a $36 million suit against Manitowoc County, but while the depositions for his case were in progress a young local photographer working for Auto Trader named Teresa Halbach disappeared. Volunteer searchers located her vehicle stashed among the many autos at the Avery family’s salvage yard. Avery’s home and garage were searched multiple times in an investigation headed by nearby Calumet County sheriffs due to the impropriety of having Manitowoc sheriffs, who were being sued by Avery, involved with the case.

Yet in the end, they were indeed involved.

After multiple searches found nothing, it was Manitowoc officers who found a car key to Halbach’s vehicle lying in plain sight in Avery’s bedroom. It was Manitowoc personnel who found a single bullet with Halbach’s DNA in Avery’s garage. No blood, fibers, or other trace evidence of Halbach was found in these locations, but blood trails linking to Avery were found in Halbach’s car. A burn pit with human bones was found behind Avery’s house, but other burned bones were found in nearby locations, indicating that evidence may have been moved or relocated.

The filmmakers have been heavily criticized for not mentioning more of Avery’s criminal past of sexual violence. It’s been noted that Avery, who is in fact the last person to admit having seen Teresa alive, was known to her. She had come down that day to photograph a car for sale in Avery’s salvage yard, and had done so before. She had complained to her co-workers that she found Avery to be “creepy,” yet this isn’t mentioned in the documentary. The filmmakers have argued that it’s because this information was rendered inadmissible by the judge.

The defense argues that the blood drops found in Halbach’s car may have been planted, as a vial of Avery’s blood being stored in the county clerk’s office was found to have been tampered with and punctured by a needle without authorization. Critics argue that other non-blood DNA of Avery’s was found on the hood latch of Halbach’s car and they claim it “couldn’t have been planted.” However, even though it’s not mentioned in the film the defense did address this issue in the case. The filmmakers note that such DNA belonging to Avery could have also been planted as investigators had full access to all of his possessions, including his toothbrush and dirty laundry. They also argue that the Manitowoc county technician who inspected the vehicle had not changed his gloves after having handled many of Avery’s possessions and could have easily contaminated it.

It’s quite easy to fall into a pattern of re-litigating the specifics of the case and debating whether Avery is or isn’t guilty of the second crime. However, that ignores the larger questions of police conduct in this case based on their “certainty” that they had the right man this time—just as certain as they were the the last time.

Manitowoc county personnel were not supposed to be involved in this case, yet they were. In fact, many of the exact officers who had been deposed in Avery’s lawsuit just days previously were the same ones who miraculously located key evidence on Avery’s property, many days after other officers had searched those exact same locations. Maybe that was just dumb luck. And maybe not.

It’s fairly suspicious, but the most obviously egregious element of this doesn’t involve Avery himself. It involves the process used to manipulate his young cousin Brandon into creating a very obviously false confession which would incriminate Avery. Brandon is shown being interviewed by his attorney’s investigator and after he writes down that all he did was sit at home, watch television, then later go over and watch Steven’s bonfire, he’s told by the investigator to change his story, to claim he saw Teresa tied up in Steven’s house, to add scenes of sexual violence, rape, stabbing Teresa multiple times, and ultimately dumping her body in the fire.

Let me repeat: Brandon’s own attorney helped craft and twist his original statement into an elaborate false confession in collusion with prosecutors, claiming this was the “only way” they could help him and that if he denied any wrongdoing “things would be worse.”

Sadly, improper defense of this type is not that uncommon.

A review of convictions overturned by DNA testing reveals a trail of sleeping, drunk, incompetent and overburdened defense attorneys, at the trial level and on appeal. — The Innocence Project

Eddie Joe Lloyd was convicted of a brutal 1984 murder of a sixteen-year-old girl in Detroit, Michigan. While in a hospital receiving treatment for his mental illness, Eddie wrote to police with suggestions on how to solve various murders, including the murder for which he was convicted. Police convinced Eddie that by confessing to the murder and getting arrested, he would help them “smoke out” the real perpetrator. They fed him details that he could not have known and Eddie signed a written confession, giving a tape recorded statement as well. Eddie was represented during pre-trial by a court-appointed attorney who received $150 for pre-trial preparation and investigation. This attorney gave $50 of this to a convicted felon, who conducted no investigation into Lloyd’s mental state or confession. This lawyer withdrew from the case eight days before trial and another attorney was appointed but the trial was not postponed. The new trial attorney did not meet with the pre-trial attorney. He did not question the details of the investigation and did not cross-examine the police officer most directly involved in the coerced confession. He called no defense witnesses and gave a five minute closing argument. The attorney lamented in the press that Eddie would not permit an insanity defense, saying, “With a psychiatric plea, we might have had a chance. If he’s not goofy, there’s not a dog in Texas.” Lloyd insisted that, despite his mental illness, he was innocent. The jury deliberated for less than an hour before convicting him of first degree felony murder.

Brandon’s attorney is ultimately dismissed from the case, but that is long after Brandon is interviewed by police and after he repeats his original story that he saw nothing. Police then begin to berate him for hours without his mother present and without his lawyer, alternately calling him a “liar” anytime he says something they don’t want to hear and then telling him that “everything will be alright” each time his stumbling guesses at what they want to him to say finally hit the right mark.

This type of practiced coercion is also not uncommon in many police departments.

“Astonishingly, more than 1 out of 4 people wrongfully convicted but later exonerated by DNA evidence made a false confession or incriminating statement.” — The Innocence Project