Holed-up murder suspect requests chat with reporter
Concord Monitor
A man who admitted killing a police officer told authorities he'd leave his
hotel room if he could talk to a Concord Monitor reporter. Sarah Vos, who
rushed to the Holiday Inn, writes: "I didn't have time to shower or eat
breakfast. My legs shook as I left the house, and I slipped down my front
steps. I didn't know what to expect." As her interview wound down, Vos
asked the man if he had anything else to say. He paused, then said: "Prior
to killing the police officer, I incorporated a company, Proud and Insolent
Youth, and I incorporated in New Hampshire."
Posted at 9:43:54 AME-mail this item | Add/View Feedback (2) | QuickLink:
A11411
http://www.concordmonitor.com/stories/front2002/first_person_2002.shtml
A reporter becomes part of the story
By SARAH C. VOS
Monitor staff
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The voice was young, its tone matter of fact. He introduced himself as
Andy, and when I asked for his story, he started to talk.
"I killed a police officer in Red Bluff, California, in an effort to draw
attention to police brutality," he said.
He explained why the killing made sense, talking in long, almost academic
sentences, as if we were discussing economics, not an officer dead at a gas
pump. Shot three times, once in the back of the head at close range.
Execution-style, the prosecutor would call it later that afternoon.
This was not a normal interview. I was in the State Room at the Holiday
Inn, surrounded by FBI agents and talking to Andrew Hampton McCrae, the
23-year-old who has claimed responsibility for killing a police officer
last week.
McCrae asked to talk to a Monitor reporter, and after more than two hours
of negotiating, the FBI agreed that McCrae could talk to me. In return,
McCrae promised to leave his fourth-floor hotel room peacefully. This is
the way negotiations work: You never give the suspect anything without
getting something in return.
The lead negotiator, Liane McCarthy, warned me that his voice was without
emotion. That worried her. He could be suicidal, she said.
McCrae told me that he wrote a manifesto called the Declaration of Renewed
American Independence. In it, he said, he argues that a consensual adult
act, whether illegal or not, is a non-crime. He said that everyone in
America presumed guilty of a non-crime should be free from harassment by
law enforcement.
He had a copy, and he wanted me to read it. I told him I wanted to read it.
"How am I going to give it to you?" he asked.
"You'll have to come out," I said.
"I'll come out and give it to you?" It was a question.
"Yes," I said, even though I did not know how I would get it. I was not in
control, and we both knew that McCrae would walk into a hallway full of FBI
agents and police officers.
I had arrived at the hotel 90 minutes earlier. I came straight from home. I
didn't have time to shower or eat breakfast. My legs shook as I left the
house, and I slipped down my front steps. I didn't know what to expect.
While I waited I talked to guests who had been evacuated from their rooms,
the hotel manger and FBI agents. I took notes because it was calming. I
tried to pretend that this was just another story.
As McCrae talked, McCarthy listened on another headset. A small black
suitcase with multiple phone lines coming out of it sat on a table in front
of us, allowing officers around the room to hear the conversation. Beside
me, one FBI agent fooled with a tape recorder, checking batteries and
flipping the tape. The rattling noises were distracting.
McCarthy sat on the other side, and she motioned to me several times. She
wanted me to slow down, to not take notes. She did not want me to be a
reporter. She wanted me to talk McCrae out of his hotel room. She told me
not to question McCrae, not to get him excited. He is calm, she said. She
wanted him to stay that way.
After I told McCrae to leave his room, McCarthy instructed me, on a legal
pad, to end the conversation.
I told McCrae that I had his story. I needed to get back to the office to
write, I said.
"You do?" He sounded disappointed, and McCarthy motioned for me to talk more.
Anything else? I asked. McCrae paused for a moment.
"Prior to killing the police officer, I incorporated a company, Proud and
Insolent Youth, and I incorporated in New Hampshire," he said.
He said he chose New Hampshire because of the state constitution, which
contains the right to revolution.
