Serial Killer, Prosecutor Collaborate to Revive a Death Sentence

Inside a cramped, windowless library, a serial killer and the man who sent him to Death Row sit at opposite ends of a long wooden table. Together they pore over death penalty laws.

Defendant Michael Ross and special prosecutor C. Robert Satti Sr. are of one mind on the subject: Ross, the convicted murderer of six girls and women, should be executed.

Their reasons differ. Satti seeks justice on behalf of the families of the victims and the people of Connecticut. Ross says he merely wants to avoid causing his victims’ families more pain.

“There is no need to drag the families of my victims through that gruesome and emotionally disturbing testimony,” said Ross in a letter to Associated Press. “While I do not wish to die, my life is not worth the pain to the families that it would cost.”

He’s admitted his crimes. He captured his victims as they walked along quiet, deserted roads. He raped most of them, then flipped them onto their stomachs. As they lay face down, he strangled them.

His convictions stem from the 1982 murders of Tammy Williams, 17, and Debra Smith Taylor, 23; the 1983 murder of Robyn Stavinsky, 19; and the 1984 deaths of Wendy Baribeault, 17, and two 14-year-olds, Leslie Shelley and April Brunais.

In 1987, Ross received six death sentences and two life sentences. He also admits to the murders of two New York women, though he’s never been prosecuted for those. His criminal history also includes assaults on women in North Carolina, Ohio and Illinois.

Last year, the state Supreme Court upheld his convictions but overturned the death sentences because a judge excluded part of a psychiatric report that might have helped Ross get a lesser punishment. The court ordered a new penalty phase of the trial.

This is what Ross wants to do:

He wants to agree that there are many aggravating factors in his case--the viciousness and senselessness of his crimes. And he wants to stipulate that there are no mitigating factors, such as mental impairment, even though he believes that mental illness--sexual sadism--led him to kill.

Finally, he wants to prevent anyone else from testifying that he was mentally ill, even though the state has in its hands the psychiatric report that the judges cited in overturning his death sentence.

If there are only aggravating circumstances--and no mitigating ones--a death penalty would be a certainty, and Ross would be on his way to becoming the first person executed in Connecticut since 1960.

“To allow [the families] to be hurt further, just to save my worthless life, is not something I am prepared to do,” Ross writes.

Even now, after Ross dismissed his public defenders and took over as his own attorney, experts agree that he knows what he’s doing.

“Mr. Ross has a superior understanding of the legal proceedings in his case,” Dr. Michael A. Norko, director of the state’s mental institution, said in a written evaluation of Ross.

Ross, 36, is articulate, clear and concise in court. He cites case law with the ease of someone who has done the research and knows the material.

But he is not a lawyer--just a twisted man with an IQ of 122.

The oldest of four children, Ross grew up on an egg farm in Brooklyn, Conn. Psychological reports recount an emotionally and physically abusive household. Still, he graduated in the top 5% of his high school class and earned a degree in agricultural economics from Cornell University.

Satti, 67, was the prosecutor when Ross was sentenced to die in 1987. He retired last year, but agreed to stay on the case to help an overworked colleague.

It was Satti who initiated the meetings with Ross because there was no defense attorney with whom to confer.

In court, Satti has questioned the defendant’s motives for seeking a quick execution. He told the judge that Ross may merely be seeking more publicity.

But Satti, a sometimes gruff former Marine, acknowledges that the five closed-door meetings with Ross since June have been productive.

As a result, the two filed a joint motion to the state Supreme Court, asking for answers to seven questions that could clear the way for a faster trip to the death chamber.

But Public Defender Patrick Culligan wants the Supreme Court to let him intervene, permitting his office to represent the interests of the court and the public, if not those of the defendant.

“Just because an individual wants to die doesn’t mean society should agree with that wish,” Culligan said.

“Whether our society will decide to sentence an individual to death is one that should be an informed decision that should be made after a full and complete consideration of all facts. I don’t think that’s happening.”

With guards standing at attention outside, Satti and Ross have met at the tiny library at the New London state’s attorney’s office.

Satti brings to the table a Fordham University law degree, 36 years as a prosecutor in Connecticut and a vast knowledge of state law. Ross is a man with time on his hands and access to prison lawbooks where he can scan legal cases from across the country.

“Having met him on a professional, face-to-face basis, it has caused me to look more into the person that I’m dealing with and think to myself, ‘What a waste of human life,’ ” Satti said. “But even with that thought, I have no problem in performing what I think are the duties of my office.”

Ross described the encounters as tense at first but increasingly cordial.

“In the beginning, I don’t believe that either of us trusted the other. However, I now believe that we trust each other to do our best to achieve the same goal,” Ross wrote.

But Satti is emphatic: He and Ross are not developing a rapport.

“I’m not a colleague of Michael Ross,” he said. “It’s strictly business.”