The DNA Dragnet

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Truro has no main street, no stoplights, no trash pickup. Though the area bustles with writers and artists in the summertime, it is quiet, even suffocating, in the off-season. "In the winter, we pay too much attention to each other," a local told the Boston Globe after the murder. None of that attention had turned lethal since 1969, the year of the last homicide. "When you have an unsolved murder in your town, there's this free-floating anxiety," says Truro resident Maria Flook, who wrote a book about the killing.

On the third anniversary of Worthington's death, local and state police, advised by FBI profilers, began swabbing for DNA--hoping to finally find a match to the person with whom Worthington last had sex, even if he was not the murderer. The year-rounders, as they are called, were not shy in responding. About 10 locals called the state A.C.L.U. chapter, which quickly sent a letter of protest to law-enforcement officials and is considering litigation. Some men have refused to give a sample, though Cape and Islands district attorney Michael O'Keefe declines to say how many. "I have a tirade ready," says Michael Jerace, who intends to turn the police down. "It's very frightening. It's all part of the ambiance of the country right now." Others have gone to the cops, regarding it as a civic duty. Police chief John Thomas says at least 80% of his e-mail has been supportive. Fred Simonin, owner of the Highland Grill, where residents go to get Krispy Kreme doughnuts and pizza, readily complied, accepting a swab as he stood behind his counter. "Does it bother me? No. I don't plan on raping or killing anyone," says Simonin, in his orange Truro baseball cap.

When Michael Kaelberer made his regular trip to the dump on a recent Sunday, a friend going the other way tried to wave him off. "They're down there!" he warned. "Aw, man," Kaelberer said. He had heard about the DNA sweep, and he didn't like it. He had lived in Truro for 33 years precisely because this kind of nonsense didn't happen here. Still, he had decided to surrender. "What are you going to do? You got a truck full of garbage," he says. "This is a small town. It's not worth getting on a list if you're not guilty."

O'Keefe and the police have promised that the samples will be destroyed if they do not match the evidence. But state law does not require them to keep their promise, says the A.C.L.U. In Baton Rouge, police swabbed 1,200 men, most of them white, in 2002 and 2003, following tips. Although the early focus was on white men, it turned out the killer was black. Some of the samples ended up in the state crime database anyway. More than a dozen of the men are suing to have their samples removed. Corporal Don Kelly, a spokesman for the Baton Rouge police, defends the investigation but acknowledges the long-term dilemma: "Let's face it. If we took a DNA sample from every male child at birth, we could solve a lot of crimes. But is that a price we're willing to pay?"