up to Chinn’s killing that was a bit less selfless, according to two well-placed sources. He wanted a television set in his cell, and he expected to get it in exchange for his testimony. One of the two sources said Glasgow didn’t come through on the deal.
Whatever Brescia’s reasons for confessing, corrections workers alerted Frankfort police to Brescia’s statements, and in December 2005 two detectives visited him in prison and took a videotaped confession, according to the press release from Glasgow’s office.
Brescia had been committing a string of daytime robberies, and on that May day in 1998, Chinn’s condo was the next target. Brescia apparently didn’t plan, however, for Chinn to be home when he broke in. He fled. Chinn chased him out the front door and shouted his license plate number as he started down the street. So Brescia returned, stabbed her in the neck and chest with a kitchen knife, and strangled and choked her.
He was indicted in June 2006 and, in March 2007, pleaded guilty. Anthony Brescia is now serving a life sentence for Chinn’s murder.
McCarthy was vindicated by Brescia’s confession, but the damage to his reputation, psyche and wallet had been done. Friends had abandoned him. He no longer worked at the hospital. He dropped more than a hundred thousand dollars in legal fees and lost untold years off his life. He was reluctant to apply for a new job for fear a background check would turn up his murder arrest. He worried about clearing customs to enter a foreign country for vacation. Worst of all, Juliet was irrevocably gone. “She’s not back,” McCarthy said. “So I don’t need the time, to be honest with you.”
McCarthy puts some of the blame for his wrongful arrest on fate, likening it to going to the emergency room when an incompetent doctor happens to be on shift. The fact that the detectives who showed up at Chinn’s home that evening in 1998 zeroed in on him instead of picking up the right trail was nothing more than the “luck of the draw, basically,” McCarthy said, sounding almost philosophical about his close brush with possible lifelong imprisonment or date with a lethal injection.
“It depends on who the cops are who get your case that night,” he said. “If you get a couple bad ones, you’re screwed.”
A confession played an important role in McCarthy’s exoneration. Years later, a different confession figured prominently in another widely publicized murder case in Will County—this time with disastrous results. The confession came from a father, Kevin Fox, horrifically admitting to killing his three-year-old daughter. Within hours, though, Fox denounced his confession, saying he had given it under extreme duress after fourteen hours of grilling by Will County sheriff’s detectives.
The morning of June 6, 2004, three-year-old Riley Fox was discovered missing from the family’s home in the little Kankakee River town of Wilmington, about a half hour south of Joliet. That morning, Riley’s brother Tyler came into his father’s bedroom and said Riley was gone. Kevin Fox had been alone with his children that night while his wife, Melissa Fox, was taking part in a breast-cancer walk in Chicago and spending the night with friends. Earlier in the evening, Fox had left the kids at their grandparents’ while he went to a concert with his brother-in-law. When word of Riley’s disappearance got out, the small town launched a massive volunteer and police search. Within hours, a pair of hikers found the little girl’s body floating face down in a creek about four miles from her house. She was half naked and her mouth had been covered with duct tape. The ensuing autopsy revealed more grisly details: Riley had been sexually abused and was still alive when she went into the water.
For months, Melissa and Kevin Fox and their family cooperated with detectives. They submitted to rounds of questions and provided the police with samples of their DNA, trusting officers
Whatever Brescia’s reasons for confessing, corrections workers alerted Frankfort police to Brescia’s statements, and in December 2005 two detectives visited him in prison and took a videotaped confession, according to the press release from Glasgow’s office.
Brescia had been committing a string of daytime robberies, and on that May day in 1998, Chinn’s condo was the next target. Brescia apparently didn’t plan, however, for Chinn to be home when he broke in. He fled. Chinn chased him out the front door and shouted his license plate number as he started down the street. So Brescia returned, stabbed her in the neck and chest with a kitchen knife, and strangled and choked her.
He was indicted in June 2006 and, in March 2007, pleaded guilty. Anthony Brescia is now serving a life sentence for Chinn’s murder.
McCarthy was vindicated by Brescia’s confession, but the damage to his reputation, psyche and wallet had been done. Friends had abandoned him. He no longer worked at the hospital. He dropped more than a hundred thousand dollars in legal fees and lost untold years off his life. He was reluctant to apply for a new job for fear a background check would turn up his murder arrest. He worried about clearing customs to enter a foreign country for vacation. Worst of all, Juliet was irrevocably gone. “She’s not back,” McCarthy said. “So I don’t need the time, to be honest with you.”
McCarthy puts some of the blame for his wrongful arrest on fate, likening it to going to the emergency room when an incompetent doctor happens to be on shift. The fact that the detectives who showed up at Chinn’s home that evening in 1998 zeroed in on him instead of picking up the right trail was nothing more than the “luck of the draw, basically,” McCarthy said, sounding almost philosophical about his close brush with possible lifelong imprisonment or date with a lethal injection.
“It depends on who the cops are who get your case that night,” he said. “If you get a couple bad ones, you’re screwed.”
A confession played an important role in McCarthy’s exoneration. Years later, a different confession figured prominently in another widely publicized murder case in Will County—this time with disastrous results. The confession came from a father, Kevin Fox, horrifically admitting to killing his three-year-old daughter. Within hours, though, Fox denounced his confession, saying he had given it under extreme duress after fourteen hours of grilling by Will County sheriff’s detectives.
The morning of June 6, 2004, three-year-old Riley Fox was discovered missing from the family’s home in the little Kankakee River town of Wilmington, about a half hour south of Joliet. That morning, Riley’s brother Tyler came into his father’s bedroom and said Riley was gone. Kevin Fox had been alone with his children that night while his wife, Melissa Fox, was taking part in a breast-cancer walk in Chicago and spending the night with friends. Earlier in the evening, Fox had left the kids at their grandparents’ while he went to a concert with his brother-in-law. When word of Riley’s disappearance got out, the small town launched a massive volunteer and police search. Within hours, a pair of hikers found the little girl’s body floating face down in a creek about four miles from her house. She was half naked and her mouth had been covered with duct tape. The ensuing autopsy revealed more grisly details: Riley had been sexually abused and was still alive when she went into the water.
For months, Melissa and Kevin Fox and their family cooperated with detectives. They submitted to rounds of questions and provided the police with samples of their DNA, trusting officers
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