DEFENSE CASE
One thing Stephen Stanko and his defense team agreed upon was the importance of science. “Science is the one thing on my side,” the defendant said before his trial. He was mentally ill, and he could prove it. It sounded crazy, but he had the pictures
to prove it.
To demonstrate Stanko’s insanity for the jury, William Diggs would bring in a team of medical experts to explain to the jury that Stanko wasn’t responsible for his bad acts.
First up was Dr. Bernard Albiniak, whose job it was to make understandable and credible the science—the latest technology—upon which the defense’s theory precariously perched.
Dr. Albiniak explained that he earned his Ph.D. in 1976 from the University of South Carolina. He was a forensic psychologist, and a professor at Coastal Carolina University, teaching courses in substance abuse, statistics, research methods, and health psychology. During his career, he had been a forensic consultant in a variety of criminal proceedings.
His testimony concerned positron emission tomography (PET) scans of Stanko’s brain taken at the Medical University of South Carolina. He explained what PET stood for, a reference to a nuclear medicine imaging technique that produced a three-dimensional image. The PET camera detected radiation from the emission of positrons. Point was, the resulting image not only showed the physiological makeup of the brain, but also revealed the level of activity in each portion of the brain.
How were PET scans taken? As was true of other internal examination methods, a preparatory radioactive “tracer” was introduced into the body, usually via direct inoculation into the bloodstream. The PET scan system indirectly emitted gamma rays in pairs that could be captured in an image. The tracer was allowed to remain in the body for a waiting period before the scan was taken. Flat images were captured at minutely varying depths within the target organ, and a computer subsequently assembled those slides into a 3-D image. The scan created a picture that didn’t just illustrate the size and density of a human organ, but also made sort of a map of its functional processes.
Now that the jurors knew what PET scans were, they needed to be told what the scans of Stanko’s brain meant.
On Thursday morning, Dr. Thomas Sachy took the stand. He was a young man, as far as experts go, with a thick head of brown hair, prematurely graying a bit at the front and top. He had a gentle voice. He explained, under William Diggs’s questioning, that he was a forensic psychiatrist and founder of the Georgia Pain and Behavioral Medicine center, which specialized in the use of neuropsychiatric imaging techniques and other concepts of behavioral neurology. In other words, he looked at photographs of the brains of people with mental problems, and tried to determine if he could
see
illnesses, injuries, diseases, or other abnormalities. He moonlighted as a public speaker, giving talks to interested groups in pain management, forensics, or other aspects of neuropsychiatry.
Dr. Sachy offered the jury a summary of his education and professional career: certified by the American Board of Psychiatry and Neurology in both general and forensic psychiatry; two Bachelor of Science degrees, in electrical /computer engineering and general studies from the University of Calgary; master’s at Georgia State; medical degree in 1995 at the Medical College of Georgia; licensed to practice two years later.
“Do you belong to any professional organizations?”
“Yes. American Academy of Psychiatry and the Law, American Neuropsychiatric Association, and American Psychiatric Association.”
“What do you do now?”
“I am in private practice in Georgia,” Dr. Sachy said. He treated patients of all ages, from children to geriatrics. As a pain specialist, he said, he relieved suffering and discomfort during a medical or surgical procedure, or because of a disease or condition.
“Dr. Sachy, how would you describe Stephen Stanko’s brain function?”
“Stephen Stanko’s brain function was highly unusual. There were parts of his brain that were not as active, compared to other parts of his brain.”
For Dr. Sachy’s testimony, a TV screen was set up so that the jury could see. On it were two colorful PET scans, one of a “normal” brain, one of Stanko’s brain. Dr. Sachy said Stanko’s mental difficulties could be seen.
This testimony set a precedent in South Carolina—the first time in the state that PET scan evidence had ever been used as part of the defense case in a criminal trial.
Areas of red indicated high levels of brain function. The normal brain had plenty of red in the frontal lobes. Stanko’s had
none,
the witness emphasized.
“We can see particularly right here,” Dr. Sachy said, pointing to the darkness and shadows that were Stanko’s frontal lobes, “he’s less functional as compared to a normal brain.”
Those lobes were inactive, leaving him with diminished impulse control, he explained. There was also a matter of weight. If you removed Stanko’s brain and weighed it, you’d find his brain weighed less.
“Why is that?”
“Because his brain has too much water in it.”
“You say the defendant’s brain weighs less than the normal brain—but what about its size?”
“It is smaller. He has a condition known as hypofrontality. He has a decreased function in the medial orbital frontal lobes of his brain.”
“How small?”
“His left frontal lobe was in the smallest two to three percent of the population.”
“Could you explain the significance of that in terms the jury could understand, Doctor?”
“Sure. It is this frontal area of the brain that makes us essentially human, prevents us from bad behavior, from being impulsive and aggressive. Because of brain damage, he cannot control his impulses when he becomes angry.”
The doctor pointed at the center of his own forehead. “My brakes are right here.”
People with damage to the frontal lobe of their brain, Dr. Sachy explained, were prone to fits of anger and violence. Due to brain damage, the “emergency brakes” between impulse and action are missing.
“Because of Mr. Stanko’s frontal-lobe damage, he lacks the ability to appreciate the difference between right from wrong, predisposing him to psychopathic behavior.”
“What, if any, are your conclusions regarding the functionality of Steve’s brain?”
“I’m one hundred percent sure that his brain is just not working right.”
“Your diagnosis?”
“He is a psychopath.”
“Does he choose to be that way?”
“No. Neither Mr. Stanko nor the other psychopaths I’ve examined have ever made a conscious decision to be psychopathic. It is a malady that has been forced upon them by bad luck, or God, or genes, or what have you.”
“He was insane?”
“He met the moral and legal definition of insanity. It’s my opinion that Mr. Stanko had diminished capacity twenty-four/seven, but at the time of this act, he was beyond that. He was insane.”
“Yet, he is an intelligent man?”
“Oh yes. His IQ is one forty-three.”
“That classifies him as a genius?”
“Yes, but it is entirely possible for a person to be intellectually smart, yet still exhibit mental problems beyond human control.”
“How long would you estimate Mr. Stanko has suffered from damaged frontal lobes?”
The doctor said that Stanko’s medical history showed that he’d suffered from brain problems since birth, nearly killing him as an infant. At that time, doctors documented that the defendant had “possible cranial damage.”
The defendant’s medical records were “crystal clear.” There was “no question” that he was born with “some form of neurological dysfunction.” He’d had a temporary blockage in his windpipe at birth—caused, according to his medical records, by “early vomiting”—and suffered from jaundice. Either could have been the culprit.
“It is interesting that they documented this in 1968 and not 1998,” Dr. Sachy said. He noted that while Stephen appeared to develop normally through childhood and into adulthood, the key part of his brain affected by the oxygen deprivation during infancy did not. “Later, that same problem caused him to exhibit antisocial behavior as an adult. Those same problems prevented him from distinguishing right from wrong.”
Asked to speak briefly as to the legal and medical history of PET scan technology, Dr. Sachy said PET scans were used during a criminal trial in New York in 1994, and had been used to diagnose brain damage and other illnesses since the 1970s.
“No further questions,” William Diggs said.
“Mr. Hembree?” Judge Jefferson said, turning toward the solicitor’s table.
“Thank you, Your Honor,” Gregory Hembree said, and began his cross-examination by establishing that Dr. Thomas Sachy lacked board certification in forensic neurology, and that he worked predominantly in Georgia, where the standards for mental competency differed from those in South Carolina. Hembree argued that Stephen Stanko knew the difference between right and wrong as well as the next fellow, he just didn’t care. He felt no inner conflict when doing bad things.
“There’s a difference between mental problems and behavioral problems?”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t antisocial behavior a behavior and not a mental disease? What’s the difference between this psychopath and that psychopath?” Hembree asked.
“You’re right,” Dr. Sachy said. “It’s difficult to make that distinction.”
“Dr. Sachy, you interviewed the defendant about his actions, did you not?”
“I did.” Stephen Stanko, in fact, had given him details of the immediate buildup to the murder and rape. Stanko said he’d been planning to end his relationship with Laura Ling that night. He’d planned on moving out. He said that Ling’s daughter was the one who threatened him. She said that she was going to expose him as a child molester. Laura became furious after hearing her daughter’s accusations and attacked Stanko, slapping him and burning him with a cigarette.
“And then?”
“That was the last thing he remembered,” Dr. Sachy said. “There was a period of amnesia. The next thing he remembered, he was showering, washing blood off.”
Hembree made the witness admit that, on the night of the violence, Stanko’s behavior remained cunning. He checked the pulse of both of his victims, and stole a bracelet right off the wrist of Laura Ling’s remains. He packed his electric guitar before leaving. He went to an ATM and cleaned out Ling’s account. Cunning, not crazy, right?
“Dr. Sachy, would you characterize the defendant as a killing machine? Stephen Stanko, he’s a killing machine, right? He’s a great white shark, right?”
A chorus of objections came from the defense table.
“Legally, he knows the difference between right and wrong, but mentally, he doesn’t care. Dr. Sachy, is it your position that persons diagnosed as psychopaths are not responsible for criminal acts?”
“That’s a philosophical question,” the witness replied. “If imagery from brain scans proves abnormalities, then yes, I believe that.”
Hembree drew Dr. Sachy’s attention to Stephen Stanko’s infant medical reports. He’d earlier testified they indicated brain damage. But the witness had been selective, hadn’t testified as to the contents of those records in their entirety. So now, to be fair, Hembree asked Dr. Sachy to read some passages from the records that he’d previously ignored.
“What does that say, Dr. Sachy?”
“‘Neurological OK.’”
“‘Neurological OK’?”
“Yes.”
“Isn’t that good news?”
“That’s great news.”
“That’s great news! And the baby was released from the hospital two days later, wasn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“And you, Dr. Sachy, are a professional witness, are you not?”
“I wouldn’t characterize myself that—”
“You are getting paid by the defense for your appearance today, isn’t that correct? You are getting paid right now?”
“Yes.”
“And, if I may ask, at what rate are you being paid?”
“Four hundred dollars an hour,” Dr. Sachy said.
“Is there a ceiling on your fee?”
“Yes, up to forty thousand dollars.”
“If you put in one hundred hours on this case, the defense pays you forty thousand dollars?”
“Yes.”
Hembree seemed to be having fun as he cross-examined Dr. Sachy. He got the defense witness to say that he had testified in about fifty trials, and in all fifty, he had been a paid employee of the defense. Plus, in those fifty cases, he had never—never once—found a patient to be sane.
“No further questions,” Hembree concluded with disdain.
Dr. Evelyn Califf, a Myrtle Beach family counselor, had been employed by the defense to examine Stephen Stanko’s life and come up with factors that might help to explain Stephen Stanko’s behavior. The defendant didn’t just have organic damage, the defense wanted it to be known, but his nurturing environment contributed to his mental disease as well.