Abstract
Given the nature of unsolved homicide, a complicated dynamic exists between survivors of cold case homicides and law enforcement personnel. The current study utilizes interviews with 24 survivors to explore the perceptions associated with this relationship. Employing a grounded theory framework, we find several themes depicted within these narratives that guide survivors’ overall perceptions of their relationship with law enforcement, including investigative and communication efforts. Results indicate that the survivors universally perceive original detectives were incompetent or ineffective in their original investigation, thus leading to the unsolved status of their case. Over time, secondary and current investigators were also perceived as unable to properly investigate, due to challenges such as insufficient evidence or simply not conducting a comprehensive examination of the case. Regardless of this negative view of police activity on the case, relationships were defined by the level and nature of communication survivors had with their detective. Families who felt listened to, included, and/or valued reported a positive relationship with police that allowed them to trust their case was in good hands. Participants who perceived communication to be secretive, misleading, or completely absent noted strained relationships and further disappointment. Survivors may adopt roles, such as investigator, spokesperson, or advocate, to help compensate for their perception that the case is not properly cared for by police. With regard to grief progress and health of cold case homicide survivors, it is possible treatment by law enforcement outweighs the significant of case resolution years after the homicide. Recommendations for more productive survivor/police interactions are included.
Introduction
In 2017, there were 15,129 homicide deaths in the United States (U.S. Department of Justice [USDOJ], Federal Bureau of Investigation [FBI], 2018). Despite advances in technology, the clearance rate for homicide has decreased over several decades. Only 61.6% of homicides were solved in 2017, leaving 38.4% unsolved (USDOJ, FBI, 2018). Each homicide that is not cleared is at risk of becoming a cold case homicide. While no universal definition exists, Walton (2006) recommends the following three criteria be met when classifying a case as cold: the case is at a minimum 1 year old with no new activity, its original detective is not working on the case, and no promising leads or new information exists in the case.
For each homicide victim, there are an estimated 6 to 10 family members who become survivors (Gross, 2007; Kilpatrick & Acierno, 2003). With the decline in clearance rates, a growing body of survivors impacted by homicide are at a risk of having their cases unsolved and/or eventually classified as a cold case homicide. In 2017, it is possible 34,857 to 58,095 surviving family members were added to this classification.
These unique cases bring forth multiple challenges for law enforcement. With few to no leads, identifying a perpetrator and clearing the case can seem daunting. However, in addition to investigative responsibilities, these unsolved homicides also involve family members often referred to as cold case homicide survivors who are left distressed and without answers (Pettem, 2012; Wellman, 2011; Wellman & Borg, 2018).
Cold case survivors find themselves thrust into a long-term relationship with law enforcement in the hopes that a resolution will be reached in their case. Even when survivors are eager to cooperate with law enforcement, the reopening of the case may lead to false hope, frustration, and trauma (National Sheriffs’ Association [NSA], 2011). The current paper explores unsolved homicide survivors’ experiences with and perceptions of law enforcement in an effort to understand the impact on grief progression.
Literature Review
General Crime Victims Perceptions of Law Enforcement
It is not uncommon for victims of crime to report tension or frustrations with practitioners within the criminal justice system. Commonly known as secondary victimization, violent crime survivors note that law enforcement and other professionals often exacerbate the trauma and harm of victimization by adding additional stressors to their recovery process (Goodrum, 2007; Stretesky et al., 2016).
Many specific factors contribute to the strained dynamic between victims and law enforcement. Similar to the relationship they had with their alleged perpetrator, their relationship with the police carries an imbalance of control (Riggs & Kilpatrick, 1990). This power differential may contribute to feelings of maltreatment. Police officers generally lack the professional training to provide necessary emotional support to victims of violent crime. For example, law enforcement professionals often lack proper skills to interview survivors of sexual assault without triggering additional trauma (Rich & Seffrin, 2012). Perceived insensitivity is not unique to sexual assault survivors. Many victims and related families who interact with the police often report law enforcement officials lack compassion and often disregard or ignore their feelings and ideas (Englebrecht et al., 2014). Those with the fewest economic resources are least likely to develop healthy relationships and communications with law enforcement (Dannemiller, 2002).
Homicide Survivors Perceptions of Law Enforcement
In the wake of a homicide, survivors (Hertz et al., 2005; Walton, 2006) encounter multiple levels of physical and emotional grief (Armour, 2002; Malone, 2007). Due to the violent, sometimes senseless, and criminal nature of the death, survivors (Bard & Sangrey, 1979) are placed into a relationship with law enforcement. Importantly, this is a relationship the survivors did not seek out; instead, it was forced upon them. Despite having a common goal of solving the case, homicide survivors and law enforcement relationships often suffer emotional stress. This strain is predicated upon the role of law enforcement and the responsibility that such a role carries (Reed et al., 2019). For example, in the aftermath of a homicide, investigators are often busy at the scene working to preserve evidence, chase leads, and follow a legal process. Because of these tasks, police often appear to survivors who are present at the scene, as detached and unsympathetic to their needs (Goodrum, 2007). As investigations progress, survivors report being starved for information (Goodrum, 2007; Hawk & Dabney, 2014).
Survivors feel dependent on police to solve the crime (Connolly & Gordon, 2015; Reed & Blackwell, 2006) and more specifically describe a sense of powerlessness and helplessness as that process continues (Bucholz, 2002; Stretesky et al., 2010, 2016). Researchers have suggested that a sense of control is one of the primary drivers of well-being (Mirowsky & Ross, 1989), yet survivors report frustration and lack of control as they are often, and with little exception, forced to sit idle or find alternate ways to keep the investigation alive (Englebrecht et al., 2014). They also report feeling ignored or dismissed outright (Pasia & Palys, 2016) when they call with new information that they think may be helpful, when they feel they are being lied to (King, 2004), or have the impression police are following lines of inquiry that are weak or futile (Reed et al., 2019). Goodrum and Stafford (2003) have summarized this phenomenon as “avoidance, professional composure, organizational shields and information control” by law enforcement, causing secondary victimization to take hold (p. 188; Gekoski et al., 2013; Holstein & Miller, 1990). All of these behaviors or perceived behaviors by law enforcement can lead survivors of homicide to experience additional grief, frustration, exacerbated levels of anxiety, and anger (Amick-McMullan et al., 1991; Kilpatrick & Acierno, 2003).
Cold Case Homicide Survivors Perceptions of Law Enforcement
Cold-case homicide survivors face many of the same consternations as solved case homicide survivors but because of the unique timeframe of their cases and their often prolonged relationships with law enforcement (and the negative aspects of that relationship), their experiences are often intensified (Bucholz, 2002; Dannemiller, 2002; Holstein & Miller, 1990; Wellman, 2014; Wellman & Borg, 2018). While solved homicide survivors have reported the need for case resolution and explanation before they can truly heal (Stretesky et al., 2010; Updegraff et al., 2008; Wellman & Borg, 2018), cold-case survivors face the reality of never having that resolution. When cold case survivors feel ignored or learn through a phone call to the police station that a detective working on their case has retired, the distress they feel is intensified and the strained relationship with police makes coping all the more difficult (Stretesky et al., 2010, 2016; Wellman, 2011). These cold case survivors may feel their case has been given up on or that justice will never be realized (Stretesky et al., 2010; Wellman, 2011, 2014; Wellman & Borg, 2018). They are often never reunited with their loved ones belongings, which can be heart wrenching for solved case homicide survivors when that reuniting is merely delayed (Rinear, 1988). They are also forced to have continuous and extensive contact with police as the case remains open and unsolved for years or even decades. This in turn deepens the resentment and frustration with law enforcement whom they believe cannot connect with or understand their prolonged grief (Goodrum & Stafford, 2003).
Methodology
The cold case survivors in this study, located predominantly in the Southeastern United States, were recruited from various sources to diversify experiences. Participants were referred or contacted via law enforcement personnel, media professionals, or bereavement counselors. The sample includes 24 survivors from 15 families. All participants were above the age of 18 at the time of the interview, ranging in age from 18 to 74. The time since the homicide to time of interview averaged 12 years, with a range of 2 to 44 years. Of the participants, 18 were female, 6 were male, 8 were African American, and 16 were Caucasian. All participants identified as immediate family, including the granddaughters and a grandmother, as their roles mirrored traditional parent/child relationships as opposed to extended family dynamics. Within the sample, there was 1 wife, 1 daughter, 1 grandmother, 2 granddaughters, 9 siblings, and 10 parents. Almost all the participants had completed a high school diploma, and many had completed some college or achieved a college degree.
After agreeing to participate in the study, survivors signed institutionally approved consent forms and completed a basic demographic form. In-depth, qualitative interviews were conducted utilizing an interview guide. The semi-structured approach allowed survivors to answer open-ended questions, thus limiting intrusion from the researcher (Creswell, 2007). Interviews took place in person, in a location that was comfortable for the survivor (i.e., workplace, restaurant, library, or home). Participants engaged with the researcher anywhere from 1.5 to 4.5 hr, with an average of 2.5 hr per interview. All survivors agreed to have their interview audiotaped to enhance accuracy and allow the researcher to be fully engaged in the dialogue. Immediately following the completion of the interview, the audio recordings were transcribed verbatim, without corrections for grammar or dialect differences. Transcriptions were then reviewed by two graduate assistants for accuracy. Pseudonyms were assigned to each participant to protect their identity and the identity of the victim. Quotes are followed by survivors familial role, years since homicide, and race and gender of the participant. Table 1 provides demographics and details.
Demographic Characteristics of Participants.
Note. F = female; B = Black; Group = Bereavement Group; W = White; Law = law enforcement; M = male; Media = news media.
Years since murder is in reference from the murder date as of the date of interview.
Participants were asked to tell their story, from the time they were notified of their loved one’s death to the current date of the interview. For some survivors, their account of their experiences would provide a depth of information that addressed all topics on the interview guide, including experiences with law enforcement, media, bereavement professionals, family dynamics, and so on. For others, there were additional prompts and probes used to encourage further explanation on given topics. For the purposes of this study, material pertaining to survivor perceptions of and encounters with law enforcement were extracted and analyzed.
The data were analyzed using a social constructivist approach to grounded theory. Given the exploratory nature of this under researched population, this method allowed the survivors to express their experiences in their own words and to allow the data to be processed from their perspective via the researchers’ lens (Charmaz, 2008). Both researchers utilized line-by-line coding (Glaser, 1978), allowing them to note ideas and concepts that were presented in the participants’ story. Then from original ideas, broad preliminary codes were created (Charmaz, 2008). Memos helped to organize and analyze the preliminary codes that were then arranged into trends and themes via axial coding (Strauss & Corbin, 1998) and reviewed again with incident coding gaging similarities or unique observations (Charmaz, 2008). Together, the researchers reviewed their individual coding and developed distinct themes in regards to law enforcement interactions, perceptions and effects.
Results
Given the tremendous significance placed on identifying the offender who killed their loved one, it is perhaps not surprising that the cold case survivors in this sample expressed a significant frustration that their loved one’s case had not been solved. The survivors also expressed strong opinions about the quality of the investigations, care for the surviving family members, and their own responsibility in moving the case forward. Similar to the symbolism involved in identifying the offender, the progress being made toward case resolution served as a powerful reminder of their loved one and the value of his or her life. The analysis revealed an overall dissatisfaction with regard to police efforts and reveal the way in which communication by law enforcement is interpreted as concern and care for the case and family. In addition, results depict added responsibility and assumed roles the survivors take on to cope with the disappointment and fear that surrounds their dynamic with the police.
Investigative Disillusionment
Survivors in this sample were interviewed years after the homicide of their loved ones. During this time, much thought had been given to the perceived mistakes that police had made throughout the investigation. Many survivors blamed law enforcement for the unsolved case status. The common belief was that if the police had worked more efficiently, collected better evidence, included the family in the investigation, and pursued leads the case would likely be solved. Survivors expressed disillusionment with law enforcement efforts and abilities, expressing feeling disappointed, disenfranchised, and disregarded.
Disappointment
The core of the disillusionment was the perception of poor police performance. Survivors reported having the expectation that the police would thoroughly investigate, carefully collect evidence, and thus be able to quickly solve the case. A lack of urgency, diligence, and/or care emerged as commonly perceived issues during the critical first hours of the investigation. Emily voiced that a reluctant and delayed start to the investigation impeded the case:
We tried to insist on his starting with the search because it was just out of character for [victim’s name] to do something like this. She would have called unless something happened. It wasn’t until Tuesday [more than 48 hour later] that they really started a large search. That something like, there’s something wrong. (Daughter, 17, W/F)
Elizabeth echoed Emily’s concerns about a lack of urgency and attentiveness, which in her case prohibited officers from properly collecting evidence due to inclimate weather:
There was no helicopter in the air. There was no dog at the scene. 45 minutes after I arrived on the scene, it poured down rain. So anything that they were going to get, and I mean, it rained so hard that day. It was unbelievable. So anything that they might have or could have found got washed away. (Sister, 4, W/F)
These feelings of disappointment continued during the secondary and current investigations. In time, the survivors noted discovering “sloppy police work” that they felt decreased the chances of solving the case.
When Sophie’s grandmother was killed, police originally classified the case as an accidental fire, thus allowing the family member to enter the crime scene before processing. Sophie struggles with the fact that she and her family members may have tarnished or contaminated evidence that could have led to an arrest in the case:
When we were told it was not arson, as a family we wanted to see if we could go in there and salvage anything. You know, salvage and that’s what we did. { . . . } and then they come back and said it’s now a crime scene and we had been allowed to go in and sometimes I wonder if we hadn’t been allowed to go in there and go through everything, if they could’ve been able to find anything. (Grandmother, 15, W/F)
Even if law enforcement was attempting to actively work the unsolved case, several families believed necessary evidence was not available due to a failure to properly preserve it when collected:
They asked us to have her body exhumed because they did not have enough evidence or enough DNA material. There was very little material and it didn’t seem as if . . . I don’t know . . . there always seemed to be complications. { . . . } There was a great deal of obstruction. And things are not being done the way they should have been done. And then I’m told that there was very little semen or sperm or whatever, left because of the contamination. (Daughter, 17, W/F)
All the physical evidence is long gone because rats got in there and chewed it up and all this other stuff but they still have fingerprints and palm prints. (Grandmother, 40, W/F)
Survivors also conveyed a sense that police were not actively investigating or doing all that they could to solve the homicide:
You watching cold cases on T.V. and they keep pulling cases off and solving them. And why can’t somebody be doing that here? They got the knowledge to do these things, but there always something money, budget, you know? (Son, 15, B/F)
Why isn’t anyone out there, trying to pull in these two sides and try to get to the bottom of this? (Brother 2, B/M)
That is the reason why a lot of cases don’t get solved. They aren’t out there asking the people they need to ask. (Brother, 2, B/F)
Most survivors agreed with Abigail, Elliott, and Kayla, that had the investigation been handled differently early on or if the current investigators were more committed to the case it could have been or would be solved.
Disenfranchised
Most survivors reported what they believed to be incomplete police work. They felt the initial oversights and mistakes made by law enforcement may have been motivated by race. Minority survivors believed it was a simple reality that because the victim was black the police simply did not care. Abigail and Elliot believed the victim’s skin color resulted in a lack of concern and inadequate police response:
I think there is a lot that could have been done that wasn’t done. I think on the police’s part, because um, at that time it was a lot of racial disturbance between the southwest side of town and the sheriff’s office. Because the sheriffs work the southeast, their mentality was different than the police. Because they were saying it took the sheriff and the paramedics forever to get there. That side of town has so many problems, I think they just took their time. (Son, 15, B/F)
My thing is they know everything that is going on and they not doing nothing. Nobody stepping in, nobody trying to lock anybody up. They just like, “let them kill each other. We’re not going to do anything and just let them kill each other.” (Brother 2, B/M)
Some women in the sample echoed Abigail and Elliott in feeling marginalized and also noted feeling deprived of a role in the case investigation. They felt their voice was silenced, information was kept from them, and they were not considered an important part of the investigation because of their gender:
They just don’t call me. One guy [detective] told me he didn’t have to talk to me because I was only the grandmother. I said but I got the kids. (Granddaughter, 10, W/F)
But I think that the biggest problem is that law enforcement hasn’t considered me as part of the investigation. And because they haven’t considered me part of the investigation, they haven’t given me any information. (Daughter, 20, W/F)
In Nancy and Rebecca’s view, the men in the family were perceived to be more valued and included by the police.
Disregarded
Beyond the frustrations expressed about the original investigation, survivors also reported feeling that they provided leads or had new insights into the case as it grew colder, but were not heard by police. Grief was further complicated when survivors attempted to share information with police and felt as though their information was ignored:
: They keep telling us they know who did it, they know who did it. But they say they can’t charge him because they can’t put the gun in his hand. Well you can’t put the gun in his hand because you haven’t looked for the gun. Talk to the people I tell you to talk to and you might find the gun. I am giving them names . . . I told them who I thought it was, and they didn’t even go interview them. He is still sitting in jail right now. Doesn’t make me feel good or make me trust the judicial system. (Brother, 5, W/F)
Well . . . we told them some things and they didn’t follow up on it and that just kind of bothered me. Why wouldn’t they? If we thought we knew something why would they not investigate it? (Son, 11, W/M)
We were looking at a lead where she was buried in a barbeque pit and there’s an apartment building on top of it. And that apartment building was built three years ago. That pissed me off. That lead has been there for years. And if somebody had just followed up then you could have dug up that pit and seen if it was a real lead or not. Now, we’ll never know. So year, there’s, you know . . . I’m frustrated that didn’t happen sooner. (Daughter, 20, W/M)
As opposed to law enforcement personnel who are task oriented, survivors like Paul, Ethan and Grace, reported being driven with emotion and responsibility to help solve the case. Many attempted to aid law enforcement in the investigation and did not have their information validated. This manifested into a lack of trust, perceived lack of priority in the case, and an internalized anger toward law enforcement.
Distrust
Feelings of frustration were further intensified when corruption and poor evidence preservation seemed to stand in the way of potentially solving the now cold case. Nancy believed that poor case management from the beginning now inhibited the current investigation from proceeding in a fruitful way:
First, I think they screwed up at the beginning, and they don’t want anyone going through the files. All their actions show that something is not right. And they refuse to let the national center to send down a cold case unit. It doesn’t cost them anything. (Daughter, 20, W/F)
I don’t trust them [police]. You have to be persistent. Somebody’s going to jail. I feel like they had enough information and I feel like they could have done went and talked to those boys. They talked to one, and I know that one said he needed a lawyer, and you don’t need a lawyer when you’re innocent. You aren’t putting a fire under his ass. (Husband, 2, B/F)
In many of these cases, a span of several years had passed without much progress. The lack of headway left many family members plagued with the sense that their loved ones had been forgotten by the police. The imbalance between what they had expected from police and the perceived failure of officers and detectives to fulfill their duties in the case had left most survivors with a disillusioned view of law enforcement.
Value in Voices
Despite the unsolved status of their cases, the survivors found the level and nature of communication with law enforcement to be synonymous with the care, value, and respect they felt police were giving their case, the victim, and their family. A dichotomy emerged when analyzing the interviews in regards to communication with the police. For some families, the police were open and candid with the transmittal of information and responses to the family’s inquiries.
Heard voices
From survivors who expressed a positive communicative relationship with law enforcement, there were notes that the police involved them in the investigation, listened to their leads, and found ways to be compassionate and personable:
I had a good experience with law enforcement, so it was just nice. They talked to me and answered my questions. I had confidence in them enough to feel like I could leave it with them. (Brother, 3, W/F)
They were very, very gracious. Very helpful. They’d keep me informed. And they kept in really good touch with me and then they got a lead or something, they’d ask me if I knew if such-and-such name meant anything to me. And that sort of thing. (Grandmother, 40, W/F)
Anna believed that her detective played a major role in her healing:
I talked to [detective name] right before you contacted me. I sent her an email, we are communicating in an email. She wanted to know about [victim’s name]’s life before her criminal history started appearing. No one has asked me that before. (Sister, 16, W/F)
A simple question about Anna’s sister had a profound impact. To Anna, it was a sign that the detective cared and viewed her sister as important and valuable despite her life as an exotic dancer who dabbled in drugs.
For these families, their relationship with police, particularly the current detectives handling the cold case, was one based on mutual respect and a perception of genuine care for survivors. These participants describe a healthier relationship with law enforcement, one in which their voices were heard and they felt included in the process.
Many in the sample did not experience positive communications with law enforcement. These survivors instead expressed feeling ignored or mislead by the police. They felt as if they were a nuisance, not trusted, or disrespected when they tried to connect with their cold-case detectives.
Unheard voices
The majority of survivors reported a disconnect with law enforcement. Despite the importance and meaning survivors assigned to communication levels, the most common belief was the police had failed to provide accurate information, had been secretive and allusive or simply had silenced communication.
Nancy reported that the police failed to inform her that her daughter’s case had been reclassified from a disappearance to a homicide. She felt devastated that such an important piece of information was not provided to her for months:
It was a real shock after [victim’s name] had been missing in November to be told that it was now classified as a homicide and nobody even prepared me for that.
I said, “When did it become a homicide? You guys didn’t even tell me.” [ . . . ]
So I understood after it was explained to me but there was, you know, “We’re treating it as a homicide.” What?! You’re just coming out of the blue and telling me that? After Tiffany’s been missing from February 9th to the first week in December? (Daughter, 20, W/F)
Their lack of consistent and accurate updates in the case, made Nancy feel as if she was not a valued contributor to the conversation surrounding her daughter’s death. Rebecca and Gabrielle had a similar interpretation of case importance due to the purposeful withholding and denial of information:
I still call the police. I call once a week or every other week. They know stuff, but they ain’t gonna tell me. (Husband, 2, B/F)
Overall, significant frustration surrounded the fact that despite their attempts to communicate, their calls went unreturned:
I’ve tried [to call], but after you beat your head against the wall calling 4 or 5 times a day, and your calls go unreturned you stop. Emotionally you can’t handle that. (Mother, 20, W/F)
You know, we actually haven’t heard from them in a while. Years. That’s frustrating, but I know that there’s been a lot of other homicides since then and a lot of other cases to have to deal with so they just get put on the back burner. (Son, 11, W/F)
After my son died, I used to call the sheriff’s office, ummm, every time I called them to try to get information they would always tell me that the person I needed to talk to wasn’t there or they were in a meeting and call back. There was always an excuse. So I stopped calling. (Son, 15, B/F)
The main coping mechanism for failed communication among these survivors was to simply stop calling.
For the other survivors, regardless of the positive or negative perception of the communication with police, there was a desire to maintain this connection. The fear was so great that if there was an absence of survivor outreach in the case, the police would be less inclined to continue their investigation.
Adoption of New Roles and Case Responsibilities
The lack of progress by law enforcement led some cold case survivors to develop strategies for repositioning the case in their communities’ consciousness in hopes of discovering answers. The pressure to assume accountability in case relativity, importance and resolution, many times manifested into newly assumed roles for the survivors. Contacting the media and encouraging it to share their story was one such strategy:
Oh my son, my youngest son thinks that I shouldn’t be going to the newspaper and the media that I should just let this go. And I said, “If I don’t fight for him, nobody else is going to.” I have to. Somebody has to do it. I think that this is my job to do it and I’m going to do it. (Sister, 4, W/F)
I was hoping that on the 20th anniversary we would jar somebody’s memory and come up with something. And it could have been somebody that she knew, it could have been somebody that she didn’t know that said well, let me put this piece together with that piece and see if we can come up with something and that was always my hope and that’s what I’ve done all the media for. (Daughter, 20, W/F)
In addition to drawing media attention, survivors believed their own active voice was needed to inspire law enforcement to continue their efforts. Several described their interactions with the police to maintain the priority and importance of their cases over time:
I think they [police] really do, and I think it sounds bad, but almost forget if someone’s not calling. (Grandmother, 40, W/F)
I say call! You have to be the one to push them. You’ve got to. I know they have other cases they have to work. I talked to her last week, because it makes me feel like I am keeping the case alive. I told him I would find out who did it even if it took until the day I died. (Brother, 5, W/F)
You have these boxes on the table with all this information and I think Richey said it better than any of the professionals could have said it, that it’s time to put a face with the boxes and make sure she’s not forgotten. (Daughter, 17, W/F)
These three women articulated the importance of maintaining interactions with the police to encourage priority and importance of their cases as it grew colder.
Finally, some survivors who felt that the police were failing to properly investigate their cases began investigating on their own (NSA, 2011; Stretesky et al., 2010). They believed this personal effort might be the key to finally identifying the offenders:
I walked out of there and I thought I hope to God in 20 years, I’m not getting on an airplane going to look for Tiffany and here I am. [ . . . ] I’m still alive in 20 years, I’ll still be doing it. And when I die, I hope Paul will keep plugging. And sooner or later, everyone who was involved in Tiffany’s disappearance will be dead, and there may not be anything else to do, but as long as there is anything to do, we’ll keep doing it. (Sister, 20, W/M)
Utilize your resources, leave no stone unturned. And if this is your case work it, no one is insignificant, no piece of evidence is irrelevant. Every scrap of information chase it down and use it. [ . . . ] Just want justice. If I stop, that means I don’t care anymore. I forgotten him. (Son, 2, B/F)
But I spent my time going through the woods and looking for a weapon, talking to people, sometimes until 10 o’clock at night investigating it. I still do it, even after all these years. (Brother, 5, W/F)
These survivors articulated the strong desire within themselves to make something happen even if they didn’t have the training or resources of law enforcement.
Discussion
Past research indicates that victims of crime are typically disappointed with the outcome in their case (Dannemiller, 2002; Englebrecht et al., 2014; Goodrum, 2013; Rich & Seffrin, 2012; Riggs & Kilpatrick, 1990; Stretesky et al., 2016). For cold case homicide survivors, this point is exacerbated by the fact that there has been no case resolution or arrest of a perpetrator, thus they are stunted in their pursuit for justice. In original investigations, failure to arrive at the scene in a timely manner, lack of evidence collection, and missed opportunities plagued survivor accounts. While a select few reported police were proactive and aggressive in their search shortly after the homicide, most felt that sloppy and incomplete police work early in the investigation was likely to blame for their case’s unsolved status. Overtime and with new detectives assigned to the case, survivors continued to report frustrations with efforts and procedures. Improperly stored evidence, failure to follow up on leads, and disregarding information survivors perceived as important fueled this tension. Despite the passage of time, the majority of survivors still noted lack of confidence in police investigations, thus leaving them to question if their case would ever be solved.
Participants in this sample all had the same case reality: the homicide was not solved. Yet, there was a drastic difference in the relationship survivors reported having with current detectives based on the level of communication among them. Those survivors who felt listened to and validated developed a stronger trust and confidence in the detective working their case. Beyond the relationship, they felt valued and that their loved one’s memory and life was important to the police as well. Those who believed the police cared, were transparent, and reflexive with the families felt an ability to leave the investigation in the hands of detectives, confident that their loved one would not be forgotten and the case would not be overlooked.
A large majority of the survivors in this sample had for many years desired strong communication with law enforcement, but reported having unreturned phone calls, a lack of case updates, and an overall feeling of being ignored. Meaning was assigned to this lack of communication, thus complicating the grief process for many. Whether there was a belief that the victim was not deemed worthy or important, that the case had been forgotten, or that the detective simply did not care about the family, survivors experienced many emotional complications when communication was lacking or not present. As results indicate, when survivors harbored a responsibility to solve the case to compensate for police failures, they are likely to assume new roles such as spokesperson, advocate, and investigator. While these roles have the potential to provide meaning and purpose, they also can also cause extreme mental and physical fatigue and lead to grief regression when not managed in a healthy manner.
The concern voiced by these survivors that the police had mostly forgotten their cases is one echoed by unsolved survivors in previous research (Stretesky et al., 2010). A sense of being overlooked often results in survivors feeling further disenfranchised and dissatisfied with the justice system (Armour, 2002; Burgess, 1975; Karmen, 2007; Malone, 2007; Stretesky et al., 2010). Unlike survivors of other crimes who report feeling harmed by too frequent interactions with actors in the system, cold case homicide survivors report that their pain intensifies and their grief is prolonged by the lack of communication and contact with various practitioners (see also Davis et al., 2007; Stretesky et al., 2010).
These patterns suggest that while encouraging minimal exposure with the criminal justice system may be beneficial advice for victims of other crimes, such counsel seems to directly conflict with the symbolism attached to involvement among cold case survivors. In fact, many of the family members in our study adamantly believed it was their personal responsibility to remain involved in the process and to keep their cases alive and moving forward. Maintaining contact with the police was only one of several ways in which they accomplished this.
Results reveal a symbolic importance for these survivors. While the case being solved is the priority for law enforcement and survivors of cold case homicides, it is possible that communication, respect, and care for the surviving family members may be equally, if not more significant than a case resolution with regard to healing and grief progression (Campbell, 2006; Miller, 2001; Patterson et al., 2009; Wellman & Borg, 2018). Communication with the family members who desire such connection sends a message that the victim in the homicide has not been forgotten and that the case files are not placed in an evidence storage facility out of the minds of law enforcement. It allows the survivor to move forward without the burden of feeling as if they must carry the weight of police inactivity.
While the current study provides insight into an under researched population, it is not without limitations. Participants were gathered via a convenience, snowball sample within a limited geographic scope, thus making it difficult to generalize results. It is possible that the referral sources and participants’ willingness to participate influence the data collected. In addition, survivors’ time since homicide spanned from 2 to 44 years, thus possibly influencing perceptions and grief. Based on the sample size of 24, it was not possible, nor the intent of the researchers, to draw conclusions and comparisons based on race, gender, or victim characteristics.
Policy Implications
The survivors’ experiences and perceptions provided a voice to an often overlooked segment of victims. Their interviews reveal several recommendations for survivors and for those practitioners working alongside these families. These guidelines include the following.
Establish Expectations/Create Understanding
Law enforcement should attempt to gage what surviving family members expect from police. Some families value frequent communication and desire raw case details, while others do not wish to be exposed to potentially traumatizing information. Some may only wish for communication when an arrest has been made. It is important for law enforcement to establish where families lie on this spectrum.
For most, there is a desire to be informed, viewed as an ally, and to feel as though their case is at the forefront of investigative efforts. Yet, when the practical aspects, challenges, and possibilities of the investigation are discussed with families, it becomes possible to understand the limitations of law enforcement efforts, particularly years after the homicide has occurred. It is possible that expectations law enforcement views as unrealistic come from a lack of understanding or communication. It may be appropriate for law enforcement to spend time explaining to survivors why a lead they have suggested may not be followed. Being heard is important in their healing and this may eliminate the feeling of being ignored. Law enforcement and victim advocates can help negotiate reasonable expectations and be transparent. Additional communication and transparency may help survivors understand limited resources, difficulties with the case, and the legal and practical restrictions placed on law enforcement that may prohibit them from sharing information or pursuing particular leads.
Respect, transparency, and compassion can be used as powerful tools by law enforcement agents who otherwise have very little content or case updates to share with unsolved case survivors. To the extent possible, understanding and educating families would likely be beneficial to the overall health of survivor/police relations. Once both parties have expressed expectations and limitations, the goal should be to create a communication plan that works best for all involved. At a minimum, law enforcement can aim for manageable levels of communication with family when contacted.
Follow Up on Leads and Information
We recommend that officers and detectives make every effort to follow up on information and leads provided by the surviving family. Research indicates that family members often have access to information and sources that the police do not, and law enforcement should carefully consider information survivors can provide (NSA, 2011; Stretesky et al., 2016). Prior studies have also found that when survivors conduct their own investigations, they may unintentionally compromise the case and/or place themselves in significant danger (Stretesky et al., 2010). As their discontent and lack of faith in law enforcement grows, survivors may struggle with the significance of the information they uncover and thus opt not to share leads with the police (Carter, 1985).
Inform Family Leads Have Been Pursued and Exhausted
Beyond the practical need to investigate information provided by the family, it is also beneficial to communicate that the information was taken seriously and that efforts were applied to exploring a given lead. For survivors, it is important to be heard and believed. Thus, a simple recognition and appreciation for shared information is likely to ease survivors’ frustrations with law enforcement and reduce the feeling that the police do not care or listen and thus they must pursue their own investigation into the case.
Community Forums
Stretesky et al. (2016) recommends holding community-wide forums and conferences where survivors, law enforcement, and other case-related professionals can come together to discuss cases, investigative efforts, and resources. Again, while the event may not lead to ultimate resolution of the case, it does have the potential to make survivors feel respected, heard, and remembered; a symbolic need and desire for survivors of unsolved homicides (Stretesky et al., 2016; Wellman & Borg, 2018).
Conclusion
Without the apprehension of a suspect, survivors are left to scrutinize the work done by the police and the nature of the relationship they have with law enforcement. There is a perception among survivors that the police failed to or were incompetent during the original investigation, and that the current investigators fail to or are unable to properly investigate the case years later. While there is a consensus that frustration, disappointment, and anger surround the perceived investigation by law enforcement, several survivors report a positive relationship with law enforcement. Detectives who have made families feel valued, respected, and heard, while maintaining the victim was important and not forgotten, formed relationships with survivors that lead to peace and satisfaction among survivors. Those who did not have strong communication with law enforcement reported feeling disenfranchised and ignored, thus causing them to perceive that their case and their loved one did not matter. The lack of confidence in police resulted in the perception that case progression now fell on the survivor, thus burdening them with self-assigned roles to investigate and advocate on their own. These results indicate that regardless of case outcome, compassionate treatment and care for survivors by law enforcement is significant and needed to promote a productive relationship and reduce grief complications.
Footnotes
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
