On November 13, 2022, four families lost their college-aged children in the most heinous way possible. Inside an off campus apartment on Kings Road in Moscow, Idaho, near the University of Idaho, Madison Mogen, Kaylee Goncalves, Ethan Chapin and Xana Kernodle were each viciously stabbed to death in the middle of the night by a masked intruder. Two other roommates, one of whom saw the attacker walk through the house on his way out, were also in the home but untouched. Nearly two months later, the investigation led to the arrest of 28 year-old Bryan Christopher Kohberger, a doctoral student at nearby Washington State University. Kohberger was arrested at his parents’ home in Pennsylvania.
The public is not yet privy to all of the evidence against Kohberger, but it is known that a small amount of DNA found on a knife sheath left at the scene led investigators to their suspect. In addition, cell phone tower data placed him in the vicinity of the home on Kings Road the night of the 13th and the morning after, and he drove a white Hyundai Elantra matching the description of a vehicle seen on camera passing the house several times around the time of the murders. The vehicle was also reportedly seen speeding away from the scene at 4:20 am, near the time the killings took place.
For the last two-and-a-half years, Kohberger has been in custody while prosecutors and his defense team tussled in pre-trial hearings. Prosecutors announced they would seek the death penalty. Defense efforts to suppress evidence, including Amazon histories (specifically, his purchase of a “Ka-Bar” knife, matching the sheath found at the scene) and the genetic genealogy that helped lead to his identification. The defense lost these and other motions, by and large, and scored no real victories for Kohberger. In the last few weeks, their attempts to introduce alternative suspects and to delay the trial, scheduled to begin in early August, were also shot down by the judge in the case.
On June 30, there was a collective jaw-drop by those following this case when a new headline made the rounds: Kohberger would plead guilty to all 4 counts of first degree murder and a charge of burglary. In exchange, the state would drop the death penalty and instead ask for four life sentences without the possibility of parole (plus the maximum ten years for the burglary.) The news came on a Monday; the plea hearing was set for that Wednesday.
The response from family members who spoke out was, to put it mildly, not positive. They wanted the trial. They wanted the death penalty. They wanted their day in court. Though they had heard some musings about a plea deal the previous Friday during a regularly scheduled meeting with prosecutors, they say they had indicated they were not in agreement with any deal. Nevertheless, they received an email on Sunday night letting them know a bargain had been made, despite their objections.
From the family of Kaylee Goncalves:
The death penalty is merely an illusion in the criminal justice system. When available, it serves as a bargaining tool for the State, and when rarely applied, it’s never enforced due to a highly inefficient appellate process… The Latah County Prosecutor’s Office’s treatment of our family during this process is something I wouldn’t wish on anyone. We questioned decisions early in the investigation: why was the mayor commenting on the case? Why was the coroner speaking to families? Why was an officer with less than two years’ experience leading the investigation? Why was the University of Idaho involved when they declared it an isolated off-campus incident? Why was the University permitted to write a book about the incident while others were silenced under an overly broad order?
As a result, we were branded adversaries…They vaguely mentioned a possible plea on Friday, without seeking our input, and presented the plea on Sunday. Latah County should be ashamed of its Prosecutor’s Office.
Four wonderful young people lost their lives, yet the victims’ families were treated as opponents from the outset. We weren’t even called about the plea; we received an email with a letter attached. That’s how Latah County’s Prosecutor’s Office treats murder victims’ families. Adding insult to injury, they’re rushing the plea, giving families just one day to coordinate and appear at the courthouse for a plea on July 2.
Who do they think they are?
After more than two years, this is how it concludes with a secretive deal and a hurried effort to close the case without any input from the victims’ families on the plea’s details.
The family of Xana Kernodle also decried the plea, stating that they had emphatically rejected the idea when floated by prosecutors.
And while the family’s feelings and perspective are completely understandable, so too is the decision the prosecutors made here. As far as plea bargains go, this is as good as they get. No trial, no matter how strong the evidence, is ever a slam-dunk. Juries are unpredictable, and it only takes one stubborn juror to derail even the best case. Now, the prosecutors have a sure thing. The surviving roommates will not have to relive the trauma of the night they lost their friends and encountered unfathomable evil. And while the families may be angry, they too will benefit from the finality provided by this plea, and the knowledge that the man who killed their loved one has been caught and caged, for the rest of his life. And while even a guilty plea, in which a defendant is advised that they are waiving their right to appeal their conviction, is not unassailable, the avenues of appeal are drastically limited, unlike a death penalty case in which appellate maneuvers drag on for decades.
While the finer details of the plea agreement are not public yet, at this time it does not appear to be an Alford plea in which a defendant maintains innocence but agrees to plead guilty to avoid trial. If it is not, then Kohberger will have to admit to what he did. This might give some sense of satisfaction to the families, though it is doubtful anything he says could ever answer, “why?”
Critics often say that a defendant has more rights than a victim or victims’ families in criminal proceedings. Well, yes, they do, because our system is designed, though perhaps imperfectly, to ensure that we are all protected from the machinery of prosecution by the government, if we are accused. But victims do have rights. In most states those rights are enshrined in law, including in Idaho. Generally those rights include the right to be informed, consulted, and present. But they do not give the victims the final say or decision making authority. They have a right to be heard, but their feelings are not – and cannot – be the deciding factor.
In this case, it appears the prosecution has fumbled in the way they handled this plea. It’s obvious that the families did not feel they had the opportunity to give their opinions on the offer before it was made. And now the families, who do not live local to Boise (the trial was moved after the defense won a motion for change of venue,) have just a few days to make arrangements and travel to be in court on Wednesday to make sure they are heard.
Could their outrage derail the plea? Perhaps to some extent. The judge could reschedule the hearing due to the short notice provided to the families. Or, he could reject the plea on the grounds that the family was not properly consulted. This latter move would likely only delay the plea to give the family time to meet with prosecutors and give their thoughts. A judge may refuse to accept a plea when its terms are contrary to the demands of justice, i.e., too lenient, but that seems unlikely when the outcome is guilty on all counts and 4 sentences of life without parole.
Prosecutors may not be wrong in their assessment of the best way to resolve this case, but it certainly seems they could have done better in their handling of these grieving families and their need to be heard. In the end, there is no possible outcome that can give them what they want: their children, alive, healthy, and thriving as they begin their lives.
In exchange, the state would drop the death penalty and instead ask for four life sentences without the possibility of parole (plus the maximum ten years for the burglary.)
Dumb question: Does this mean that he will spend the rest of his life in jail? (Barring digging out or a sufficiently progressive governor granting clemency or whatever.)
Like, this isn’t some term-of-art for “28 years, and the decade for the burglary is considered to have been part of those 28” or something like that, right?
Because if “life in prison without possibility of parole” means “20 years, 14 if there’s good behavior” in actual practice, it’s a lot harder to not side with the families here.
Google’s AI claims that in Idaho “life without parole” means exactly that.
Dark is correct- life means life. No “good time”/time off for good behavior. Life is life.
Well, given that, you hit the nail on the head: this is pretty much the best they could hope for within the system.
The families are stuck on “what the killer deserves” and they just don’t understand how complicated the actual machinery is.
If the state actually tried for Death then their lives would be on hold for the next 20 years.
Yeah, someone should explain that to them.
The prosecutors, maybe.
Or longer. Didn’t Florida just recently execute someone who had been on Death Row for 50 years?
An interesting take that brings up potential 4th Amendment issues:
No, that belongs on BadLegalTakes. This type of genetic genealogy search has held up to scrutiny. For one thing, when they ran the sample they found a match to his father, not him, so he wouldn’t even have standing to challenge the search. Also, no expectation of privacy.
Oh, that’s really interesting! A DNA match to the father means that his own privacy was untouched…
Cool.
Thank you!
I don’t know what Idaho’s funding arrangements for prosecutors looks like, but it may be relevant that under today’s legal standards prosecuting a case where the death penalty is sought costs more. In states where I’ve seen numbers, something over a million dollars to dot i’s and cross t’s and deal with all the mandatory appeals. That’s a million dollars with no assurance of success.
Before Colorado did away with its death penalty, the state picked up that cost. It was done that way because there were only a few counties who could spare a million dollars out of their prosecutor’s budget. Colorado did away with the death penalty because (a) changing public attitudes made it almost impossible in practice to get a jury that would impose it and (b) the General Assembly got tired of paying for local prosecutors’ failed attempts to get it.