My sweetheart the murderer Kiwi falls in love with American in prison for grisly killing
At first, she was attracted by his cheeky smile and eyes that seemed to ‘beg for love’. Now a Kiwi woman has vowed to win the freedom of the man she loves – a convicted killer who might never be released from a US prison. Hamish McNeilly reports.
Brooke McGregor arrived in the United States on the day of Donald Trump’s inauguration. It was the Dunedin 23-year-old’s first overseas trip, and she found a country in turmoil.
While the eyes of the world were fixed on Washington DC, she headed to Ohio to meet the man who was consuming her thoughts. ‘‘And it all kind of went crazy.’’ Michael Douglass was sent to prison aged 18 for a murder, he maintains, he didn’t commit.
He has spent the past nine years inside the Toledo Correctional Institution serving a life sentence with no prospect of parole following the murder of an Ohio man.
Now 27, Douglass can only glimpse the outside world from a caged enclosure, with his only visitors being family members who visit every few months. He has faced all kinds of struggles inside the 1000-strong prison; ‘‘gangs, sexual predators, racism, physical and verbal abuse and even struggled with suicide’’. But his life changed when he signed up for pen pal website writeaprisoner.com in August, 2016. ‘‘Hey there, I hope your day is going good,’’ his profile said. Douglass had a few other contacts including an older man who wanted a ‘sugar daddy’ type relationship, and two Australian women who stopped writing after a few months. McGregor put pen to paper and sent him a letter on August 31 – the day after his birthday – and told him of her interests: animals, music, tattoos, criminal justice, and horror movies. ‘‘I was drawn to his cheeky smile, his eyes – they begged for love and somebody to care,’’ McGregor said. Within a day he wrote back, saying he too had a horror movie tattoo on his arm, and he didn’t mind she was writing from New Zealand as he just wanted a friend. ‘‘I knew right then and there I loved her and that she was someone very special,’’ Douglass says from inside prison. After a whirlwind few months of contact McGregor made a ‘‘snap decision’’ and booked a ticket to the US. ‘‘It just felt right at the time.’’
Douglass, and accomplices Roger Whitten and his sister Amber Rodriguez were arrested hours after the grisly death of Sabyasachi Debnath in an Ohio motel on November 12, 2007.
According to a police report, the former Bangladeshi man was found bound at the feet, thighs and neck with tape, stabbed more than eight times, and beaten about the head.
‘‘They just threw the book at them,’’ says McGregor, who continues to research the case.
Douglass, in front of his family, told the public defender he was present but didn’t commit the crime, but was told, ‘‘I’m not concerned about that, plead guilty and you will get a 20-year sentence’’.
But on June 9, 2008 he was sentenced on the charges of aggravated murder, aggravated robbery, kidnapping, aggravated burglary, theft, tampering with evidence, and breaking and entering, to life in prison without parole.
News reports said Douglass spat, swore and tried to break free after his sentencing.
After nine years inside, Douglass says he is no longer angry, but is full of hope since McGregor came into his life.
‘‘I was railroaded by a system that only cares for the rich, and nothing for the poor,’’ he says via a prisoner messaging system.
His two co-accused were sentenced to life with parole after 30 and 40 years respectively, despite only their DNA being found on the murder weapon.
McGregor, who has accessed court files and written countless letters to authorities, alleged it was Whitten who killed Debnath.
She believes Douglass was the victim of a miscarriage of justice, and has vowed to fight a system that plans to keep him behind bars until the day he dies.
"The sister’s story changed a number of times in her trials, as she turned the state’s evidence on Michael, and told lies to protect him (Whitten), knowing that if she told the truth he would be the one receiving the non-parole sentence,’’ she says.
Court documents show the brother and sister were in an
Most people looked at me like I was crazy when I told them I was in a relationship with someone doing life.
incestuous relationship, and she alleges that Whitten flewinto a rage when Rodriguez alleged Debnath tried to rape her.
So a planned robbery of Debnath ended in his brutal death, and three people locked up for his murder.
McGregor says her own investigation showed Douglass’ legal defence ‘‘cost him his life and freedom’’.
His first public defender was fired from the job, and the second defender told Douglass he was surprised the judge thought he was capable of handing a case of this magnitude.
His concern was well founded, McGregor says.
‘‘This man ignored Michael’s story about what happened, promised him a 20-year deal if he was to lie under oath and plead guilty.’’
Other documents showed the prosecution used a ‘‘jailhouse snitch’’, with more questions raised over the informant’s statement.
Douglass was told by his lawyer he would receive the death penalty if he didn’t sign the plea agreement.
She says Douglass and his family were blindsided by the sentence, and by the lawyer saying he had strongly advised him ‘‘against pleading out’’, causing pandemonium to break-out in the courtroom.
To help his cause she had set up a Justice for Michael Douglass Facebook page, a fundraising page, contacted advocacy groups, such as the Innocence Project, and accessed hundreds of pages of court documents.
McGregor’s decision to travel to the US on her own to meet a convicted murderer had the full support of both their families.
She says she felt apprehensive when meeting Douglass for the first time.
‘‘I was nervous that it was going to be less of a connection than in writing, but it was like we had known each other for years.’’
Prison policy dictates that the only physical contact they were allowed is a hug at the start and end of each meeting, but they were allowed to hold hands as armed guards kept watch just metres away.
She went to hug him, but he went to give her a kiss and ‘‘I got shy and accidentally head butted him . . . everyone that saw it laughed’’.
‘‘It was very electric and surreal. We both just sat there looking at each other, smiling and laughing,’’ says McGregor.
They would often hold hands for hours, maximising every minute of the full day visits where she talked with him about ‘‘anything and everything’’.
‘‘He holds my hand all day, when he’s not eating.’’
‘‘I was scared at how fast my feelings developed for somebody who I knew may never be able to come home to me. I have a lot of hope and faith that humanity will prevail in this case.
‘‘Most people looked at me like I was crazy when I told them I was in a relationship with someone doing life.’’
Life on the inside is dangerous.
Douglass lives in semi-lockdown with few privileges, which at least keeps him out of the way of the gangs.
But he’s still called a ‘‘fag’’ and ‘‘cracker bitch’’ everyday.
‘‘I’ve been pressed for sex, beat up, my stuff stolen, countless verbal abuse, and made to fight when I didn’t want to.’’
He says McGregor has given him hope.
‘‘Despite being separated by walls and a jail cell, I’ve never felt more loved,’’ McGregor says down the line from Middletown (pop: 48,000) in the midwestern state of Ohio.
For her part, McGregor says she’ll never rest until Douglass is released.
She’s determined to ‘‘get him out’’. ‘‘It doesn’t end here for me.’’ Douglass’ prison is three hours drive north from Middletown and as she can’t drive she had to rely on a ride from someone from his family.
His current security level meant he was only entitled to two full day visits per month, but this was expected to increase to four from next year.
McGregor says she plans to return to New Zealand on April 20, and then return to the United States for a week in the new year, but not before two last visits on April 7 and 8.
However, the thought of him staying behind bars ‘‘gets me down some days, but I try not to let him pick up on that’’.
‘‘He needs a positive presence to keep him positive and focused.’’
Douglass has been completing educational programmes, and doing his job, which was handing out food to prisoners in his block ‘‘for those coming out of the hole and going back into general population’’.
McGregor, who suffered abuse in her teens, says ‘‘despite how we’ve both been treated in life, we both still just want to love, help, and protect others just likes us’’.
She envisioned the day of his release, but until then she planned to return to work in Dunedin, save to see him again, and intends studying law.
‘‘People often ask me how I feel about waiting that long for a proper relationship, I can do without that side, what we have is fulfilling and makes me happy.
‘‘And as far as I’m concerned, there is really no right or wrong way to have a relationship, if it works and isn’t hurting anyone, go for it.
‘‘I won’t give up on him."
Brooke McGregor