Death by Gun: One Year Later

It

was just over a year ago that Sacramento police found Danielle Bock, 17, shot dead in the street. Within a week prosecutors brought a murder charge against Richard Jason Singleton, 19. But it will be January 1991 at the earliest before Singleton comes to trial. Not until December did the case reach superior court. Although Singleton had demanded an immediate trial before that hearing, he later asked for a continuance. The prosecutors agreed, and thus it will be almost two years since Bock's death before her accused killer faces a jury.

Danielle Bock was one of 231 homicides by gun in America during the week of May 1 through 7, 1989. (In 16 cases, the suspects died or committed suicide, and 28 cases were ruled justifiable.) Those killings, along with 233 suicides and gun-related accidents, were chronicled in a 28-page TIME cover story, "Death by Gun." Their status a year later demonstrates that justice in the U.S. is neither swift nor certain:

^ -- Of the 187 cases available for prosecution, only 65 produced convictions or guilty pleas. Almost all of the 43 other suspects identified are, like Singleton, in prison awaiting trial or indictment.

-- Many convicted killers pay lightly for their actions. Only 13 received life sentences, while 35 got 20 years or less. A few killers got off with nothing more than suspended sentences or house arrest.

Because killers and victims often know each other, homicide investigations are sometimes finished quickly: on average, 70% of them are solved, vs. 57% for aggravated assault and 26% for robberies. Yet too often there is little zeal to find and prosecute the culprits if the victims are considered unsavory. They may have been involved in drugs or prostitution or had a long police record of muggings and violence. Steve Rothenburg, assistant state attorney in Florida's Marion County, says locals often consider such offenses as merely "shooting into occupied clothing." Taking such cases to trial, he says, can be futile, because jurors may conclude that the victims "deserved to have a gun fired at them."

In Altoona, Fla., Edward Walton was a 6-ft. 1-in., 179-lb. bully who once beat his 5-ft. 10-in., 140-lb. friend Ronald Gale so badly that Gale wound up in a hospital with broken ribs. On May 7, 1989, when Walton charged at Gale in a drunken rage, the smaller man pulled out a .25-cal. pistol and shot Walton through the heart. Prosecutors charged Gale with second-degree murder, then accepted his guilty plea to manslaughter; he served 60 days.

Prosecutors are also reluctant to bring cases to trial unless the evidence is overwhelming. Of the 38 defendants tried so far, all but three were convicted. Authorities are often willing to accept a guilty plea to a reduced charge: 30 of the 111 suspects arrested in last May's killings have pleaded guilty.

Overburdened prisons are a constant source of pressure on judges and parole boards. Whatever the sentence, it rarely means the felon will be locked up that long. A killer who strikes a bargain for a 20-year term can sometimes walk away in a little less than seven years. That is why a number of states also tack on additional years for the use of a firearm during a crime. Some states, like Illinois and Maryland, have created a penalty of life without parole. That means, says Chicago Judge Earl Strayhorn, "a person goes in alive and comes out dead."

Such severe sentences are usually reserved for premeditated crimes, like killings that take place during a robbery. Even then, however, authorities consider extenuating circumstances. In Maryland last year on May 6, Vincent Kennedy shot and killed a Nigerian-born taxi driver, Lucky Unuigboje Okoruwa, 24. Later Kennedy confessed the attempted robbery but insisted that his pistol had gone off accidentally when it bumped against Okoruwa's headrest. His claim, supported by FBI experts who examined his weapon, saved him from life without parole. Kennedy, 21, pleaded guilty in exchange for life plus 20 years, allowing him to become eligible for parole when he is about 46 years old. Despite the slogans, getting tough on crime is not so easy.