Abandoning the Search for the Truth

• Author: David M. Paciocco
• Pages: 219-248

N

CHAPTER

10

Abandoning

the

Search

for

the

Truth

ew

Year's

Day

1985, 3:28

p.m.,

Cranbrook, British Columbia.

He

could hear

the

lawyer's voice over

the

black rotary phone

that

sat

like

a

museum piece

on the

white linoleum table:

"Don't talk

to

them, Terry.

I'm

telling you.

It can do you no

good.

You've

said enough already. They

are

going

to

keep trying,

but

don't

say

anything more. Like

I

said,

you

have

the

right

to

remain silent.

Use

it.

That's

my

advice

to

you.

OK? You

won't

be

helping

yourself."

"Right."

When

the

call

was

done, Terry

Burlingham

sat

there

for a

minute

tugging

at a

loose thread

on his

jeans, spinning

the

black coil

that

hung

from

the

handset

of the

phone.

He got up

from

the

table

and

moved over

to the

door, which

he

pushed open, motioning

the

police

officers

who

were waiting outside

the

interview room.

He was

done. Detective Alan

Green1

and

John Morrison stepped back

in.

"He

told

me not to

talk

to

you."

"Yeah?"

Green smirked. "Big surprise."

But

Burlingham

had

already

told

the

police

too

much

to

suit

a

defence

lawyer. When they

had

interviewed

him

earlier

that

morning,

confronting

him

with

the

lies

he had

told them

the day

before about

his

whereabouts

and

what

he had

been wearing,

he

admitted

that

he had

shot sixteen-year-old Brenda Hughes with

a

.410 gauge shotgun.

He

told

them

how he had

broken into

her

house thinking

no one was

home,

found

her

there, placed

a

pillow over

the

back

of her

head, pushed

the

gun

up

against

the

pillow,

and

just

snuffed

her

out.

He

described

the

weapon

he had

used,

saying

he and a

friend

named Biddlecome

had

220

PROVING

GUILT

AND

MAINTAINING INNOCENCE

stolen

two

.410s

during

a

break-in.

He had

sawed

the

barrel

and

stock

off

one

of the

guns, which

he had

used

to

kill

Brenda.

Terry

did not

admit,

however,

that

he had

raped

Brenda,

although

the

evidence

that

he had was

clear. Semen matching

his

blood type

had

been found

in her

vagina,

her

brother's

bed had

been disturbed,

and her

clothes were scattered

on his

bedroom

floor.

(Fibres

from

the

sheets

would ultimately

be

found

on his

clothes.)

Her

parents

and her

brother,

who had

left

her

alive

and

well when they went

to

church earlier

that

morning,

had

returned

home

to

find

Brenda naked

and

dead.

Instead

of

treating Terry like

the

animal they thought

he

was,

the

officers

kept their

tone

conversational.

It was all

matter

of

fact. They

knew there

was

nothing

to

gain

by

treating

him

like

dirt.

They

still

needed

him

to

believe they were

on his

side.

"Terry.

You

told

us you

would give

us the

gun.

Are you

still going

to

do

that?"

"I

guess."

Not

long

after,

Burlingham

sat

impassively

in the

back

of the

unmarked police cruiser

as it

pulled into

the

driveway

of his

parents'

home. What would

his

parents

say?

They were already panicked enough

when

the

police questioned

him the day

before,

and

things

got

worse

when they returned

that

morning

and

arrested

him for

murder.

As

he

expected,

their

anxiety turned into absolute grief when

he led

the

police downstairs

and one of the

officers

came back

up

carrying

the

sawed-off

.410

in a

clear plastic evidence bag. They

had

raised

a

killer.

Somewhere along

the

way,

the boy

they

had

once cradled,

the boy

that

people once said

was so

cute

and

patted

on the

head,

had

grown

up to be

a

cold-blooded killer.

Ignoring

his

lawyer's advice, Burlingham took

the

police

to the

Hughes residence,

and

showed them how, only

two

days before,

he had

ended

the

life

of a

girl

who was

just entering

the

prime

of

life.

The

police

videotaped

his

re-enactment.

In it he was

ready

to

admit

he had

executed

the

girl

in

cold blood,

but he

could

not

bring himself

to

admit

he had

raped her. Murder

was

something

his

twisted sensibilities would allow

him

to

acknowledge,

but

rape?

He

couldn't bring himself

to

admit

that.

The

police were pleased

to

have solved

the

Hughes killing

so

quickly,

but

they were

not

done with Terry Burlingham.

On 9

October

1984,

after

Burlingham

and his

friend

Biddlecome

had

stolen

the

guns,

the

body

of

twenty-year-old Denean Worms

was

found naked

in a

gravel

pit in

Cranbrook. She, too,

had

been shot

in the

back

of the

head

at

con-

tact

range

with

a

shotgun

—

probably

a

small-gauge weapon like

a

.410.

Like

Brenda Hughes,

she had

semen

in her

vagina. Burlingham

was the