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clarification of a particular point in the case that had been the subject of serious debate in a
barbershop or at a social gathering. For many black people in the region, watching the
evidence that we had presented in court now laid out on national television was therapeutic.
In the 60 Minutes interview with Chapman, he dismissed as silly the suggestion of any
racial bias in Walter McMillian’s prosecution. He calmly professed his complete confidence
and certainty that McMillian was guilty and that he should be executed as soon as possible.
He expressed contempt for Walter’s attorneys and “people who try to second-guess juries.”
We later found out that privately, despite the confidence expressed in his statements to
local media and to 60 Minutes, Chapman had begun to worry about the reliability of the
evidence against Walter. He couldn’t ignore the problems in the case that had been exposed
at the hearing. Given our success in other death penalty cases, he must have feared the very
real possibility of the appellate court’s overturning Walter’s conviction. Chapman had become
the public face defending the conviction, and he realized that he’d put his own credibility on
the line by relying on the work of local investigators—work that was now revealed as almost
farcically flawed.
Chapman called Tate, Ikner, and Benson together shortly after the hearing and expressed
his concerns. When he asked the local investigators to explain the contradictory evidence we
had presented, he wasn’t impressed with what he heard. Not long after that, he formally
asked ABI officials in Montgomery to conduct another investigation into the murder to
confirm Mr. McMillian’s guilt.
Chapman never informed us directly about the new investigation, even though for over two
years we’d sought just such a re-examination of the evidence. When the new ABI
investigators, Tom Taylor and Greg Cole, called me, I eagerly agreed to share case files and
information. After meeting with them, I was even more hopeful about what might come out
of the investigation. They both seemed like no-nonsense, experienced investigators who were
interested in doing credible and reliable work.
Within a few weeks, Taylor and Cole seemed to doubt that McMillian was guilty. They
were not connected to any of the players in South Alabama. We gave them files, memoranda,
and even some original evidence because we had nothing to hide. I was nervous that if we
won a reversal and had to retry the case, we might be disadvantaged by disclosing so much
information to state investigators—who would then be better prepared to smear or
undermine our evidence—but I was still confident that any reasonable, honest investigation
would reveal the absurdity of the charges against Walter.
By January, six months had passed since we had filed our appeal at the Court of Criminal
Appeals, and a ruling was due any week. That’s when Tom Taylor called and said that he and
Cole wanted to meet with us again. We’d talked a few times during their investigation, but
this time we’d be discussing their findings. When they arrived, Bernard and I sat down with
them in my office and they wasted no time.
“There is no way Walter McMillian killed Ronda Morrison.” Tom Taylor spoke plainly and
directly. “We’re going to report to the attorney general, the district attorney, and anyone who
asks that McMillian had nothing to do with either of these murders and is completely
innocent.”
I tried not to look as thrilled as I felt. I didn’t want to scare away this good news. “That’s
terrific,” I said, trying to sound unsurprised. “I’m pleased to hear that and I have to say I’m