Mataya, Randall K. v. Kingston, Phillip A. ( 2004 )


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  •                              In the
    United States Court of Appeals
    For the Seventh Circuit
    ____________
    No. 02-2850
    RANDALL K. MATAYA,
    Petitioner-Appellant,
    v.
    PHILLIP A. KINGSTON, Warden,
    Respondent-Appellee.
    ____________
    Appeal from the United States District Court for the
    Eastern District of Wisconsin.
    No. 00 C 775—J.P. Stadtmueller, Judge.
    ____________
    ARGUED APRIL 13, 2004—DECIDED JUNE 3, 2004
    ____________
    Before FLAUM, Chief Judge, and POSNER and KANNE, Circuit
    Judges.
    POSNER, Circuit Judge. After exhausting his state remedies,
    Wisconsin lifer Randall Mataya sought federal habeas
    corpus, claiming that he had been convicted in violation of
    the rule of Brady v. Maryland, 
    373 U.S. 83
     (1963), which re-
    quires the prosecution to turn over to the defense evidence
    in its possession that would be helpful to the defendant,
    including evidence useful only for impeaching a prosecu-
    tion witness. United States v. Bagley, 
    473 U.S. 667
    , 676-77
    (1985).
    2                                                No. 02-2850
    Pamela Claflin, age 35 and a frequenter of bars, happened
    one evening to be in a bar named Ma’s Place in Manitowoc,
    Wisconsin, when she was accosted by Mataya, whom
    apparently she hadn’t met before. They left together, amidst
    indications that she was drunk and he amorous, and drove
    off in Mataya’s car, Claflin leaving hers in the bar’s parking
    lot. Later that night, at some distance from the bar, a man
    named Cole heard “a very loud, strange, almost terrifying
    type of a scream,” unlike any animal sound he had ever
    heard; minutes later he saw a car driving at a high speed
    from the small park-like area at the dead end of his street.
    As it happens, Cole had been involved in auto racing for
    many years and had rebuilt car engines hundreds of times,
    so the police conducted a test in which six automobiles, one
    of them Mataya’s (of course Cole was not told which), were
    driven past Cole’s home one at a time, and he picked
    Mataya’s and one other car as most like the one he’d seen
    and heard that night.
    After midnight on the fatal night Mataya’s stepson saw
    Mataya applying bleach to bloodstains on his white pants
    and the next morning he saw him cleaning the interior of his
    car with spot remover. Mataya told him to say nothing of
    these things to the police.
    A week later, Claflin having been reported missing, the
    police found her corpse in the park at the end of Cole’s
    street, near a pond. She was naked except for her socks, and
    her body had been shoved under bushes and was almost
    entirely covered by weeds, grass, and sticks. Her clothes
    were scattered nearby. Claflin had worked for a cleaning
    service and according to her employer had carried her
    customers’ keys—50 or more of them—in a large purse that
    she had with her the day she vanished. The purse was never
    found.
    No. 02-2850                                                3
    Claflin’s skull had been fractured by a heavy object,
    probably a rock. She had also been strangled. There were
    bite marks on one of her breasts, and a dentist who has
    testified frequently as an expert witness, after studying
    Mataya’s teeth, testified that the bite marks had probably
    been made by those teeth, which the dentist described as
    “remarkable” (and therefore distinctive). One tooth was ro-
    tated 30 degrees; another tooth was missing and its absence
    had caused other teeth to shift in his mouth.
    Having been the last person seen with Claflin before her
    disappearance, Mataya was immediately suspected of being
    the murderer and was questioned by the police even before
    the body was found. At first he denied that Claflin had been
    in his car when he left Ma’s Place, but later he admitted she
    had been but said he’d dropped her off at another bar—but
    no one at the other bar saw her there. Later still he said he
    had blacked out after he left Ma’s Place and didn’t remem-
    ber anything that had happened afterwards. He told the
    police that his wife would say he was wearing white pants
    the day of the murder and didn’t come home until mid-
    night, but that these things were untrue. When his step-
    daughter asked him whether he had murdered Claflin, he
    said he didn’t know.
    The state’s principal witness was Donald Hertel, and it is
    in connection with his testimony that the Brady issue arises.
    Hertel, who admitted on the stand that he had been con-
    victed ten times and that in exchange for his “cooperation
    and testimony” he was to receive $1,000 plus a favorable
    letter to the parole authorities, had known Mataya for a
    decade. Shortly after the murder, Hertel had absconded
    from a halfway house in which he was supposed to be liv-
    ing and had gone on a burglary spree with Mataya during
    which Mataya had admitted having killed a woman named
    Pamela. He had told Hertel, Hertel testified, that “they were
    4                                               No. 02-2850
    making out on the hood of his car and he was twisting her
    nipple between his teeth and biting on her breast, and she
    shoved him back and told him to stop it and take her home
    or she would turn him in for attempted rape. He got mad
    and shoved her against a tree, she fell down and hit herself,
    hit her head on a rock, and then—ah—he crawled on top of
    her and started beating her in the head, in the temple area.
    He got up off of her, and she was gasping for air, and
    making weird noises, so her pants around her neck and
    drugged, and then he knew she was dead after the body
    went limp. . . . He dragged her and he told me that he
    covered her up with twigs and leaves and grass, and took
    most of her clothes off of her because he wanted to make it
    look like a rape. . . . He said he threw her pants away from
    the body.” Hertel further testified that Mataya had told him
    that the murder had taken place in a “a little wooded area
    with a pond next to it,” that the woman had had a large
    purse, that he had thrown the purse into the pond and
    watched it sink weighed down by “a large set of keys,” and
    that he had tried to get the bloodstains out of his white
    pants by soaking the pants in bleach.
    But what Hertel did not tell the jury, and the prosecu-
    tion did not tell Mataya’s lawyer, was that Hertel had made
    a deal with the prosecution under which four burglary
    charges against him would be dropped in exchange for
    his testifying truthfully at Mataya’s trial. Had Hertel been
    prosecuted and convicted of those charges, he might have
    been sentenced to 40 years in prison. The implications for
    his freedom are unclear, but may have been great. He was
    in prison when he negotiated the deal, because his parole on
    one of his previous convictions had been revoked; we do
    not know how long he was likely to remain there. He was
    also under threat of having his parole on another of his
    convictions revoked; the letter from the prosecutor to the
    parole authorities was intended to ward off that revocation.
    No. 02-2850                                                   5
    Apparently he was not facing any other new charges
    besides the four burglaries. The dropping of those charges
    may not have made him a free man immediately, but almost
    certainly spared him many years of imprisonment.
    Mataya’s trial lawyer could have used the deal, had he
    known about it, to further impeach Hertel’s testimony. The
    deal provided a greater inducement to Hertel to play ball
    with the prosecution than the $1,000 reward plus the
    supportive letter to the parole authorities. United States
    v. Williams, 
    81 F.3d 1434
    , 1439-41 (7th Cir. 1996). Both
    those inducements were disclosed to the jury; the impli-
    cation was that they were the only inducements that he’d
    been offered. Hertel also disclosed his ten convictions,
    which doubtless reduced his credibility in the eyes of the
    jurors; yet disclosure of the deal he had struck with the
    prosecutors over the burglaries would have impeached him
    even more because the deal had given him a palpable and
    very substantial incentive to lie if need be, as well as freeing
    him from any real threat of prosecution for perjury if he did
    lie.
    Brady requires the disclosure to the defendant of evidence
    in the prosecution’s possession that is “material” to the
    defense; and in the law of evidence “material” just means
    bearing on an issue in the case. 1 McCormick on Evidence
    § 185, pp. 637-38 (John W. Strong ed., 5th ed. 1999). But the
    Brady line of cases uses the word in a more demanding
    sense. Brady evidence is material only if there is a reasonable
    probability that disclosure to the defense would have
    resulted in the jury’s acquitting the defendant. Banks v.
    Dretke, 
    124 S. Ct. 1256
    , 1276 (2004); Kyles v. Whitley, 
    514 U.S. 419
    , 434 (1995); United States v. Boyd, 
    55 F.3d 239
    , 245 (7th
    Cir. 1995).
    Usually evidence that the prosecution’s principal witness
    had been offered a strong inducement to testify against the
    6                                                 No. 02-2850
    defendant would satisfy the criterion of materiality. And
    there is no doubt that Hertel was the state’s principal wit-
    ness against Mataya. We are not impressed by the state’s
    argument that the remaining evidence made his conviction
    a certainty regardless, though we’ll note later in this opinion
    that the evidence of Mataya’s guilt, even without his
    confession to Hertel, was considerable. Nor does the fact
    that Hertel began talking to the police before there was any
    agreement to drop the charges against him show, as the
    state also argues, that the agreement didn’t operate as
    an inducement for him to lie on the stand. A prospective
    witness might lie to the police in the hope of obtaining
    concessions yet be unwilling to repeat his lies on the stand
    unless he obtained very generous concessions in bargaining
    with the prosecution over the “price” of his cooperation.
    Indeed from the get-go Hertel demanded as part of the
    inducement for his testifying for the government that it
    drop the burglary charges against him. He could not
    negotiate the deal without revealing to the government
    at least some of what he would be willing to testify to if
    the deal went through. This didn’t make the revelation
    independent of the deal—quite the contrary.
    But what is unusual about this case, and decisive against
    the Brady claim, is that Hertel’s evidence was self-validating,
    which makes his motivation to fabricate irrelevant. The
    concept of self-authenticating evidence is familiar in the law
    of documentary evidence, Fed. R. Evid. 901, 902; 
    Wis. Stat. §§ 909.01
    , .02; cf. Fed. R. Evid. 803(6), (8); United States v.
    Sutton, 
    337 F.3d 792
    , 797-98 (7th Cir. 2003), though we
    cannot find any previous case that involved oral evidence.
    Hertel may have been willing or even eager to lie in
    exchange for the dropping of the burglary charges. But
    we know that he didn’t lie. We know this because he re-
    vealed details of the crime that, with just a few exceptions,
    No. 02-2850                                                 7
    he could have learned only from the murderer. All that he
    knew from other sources when he started telling the police
    details of Mataya’s confession to him in an effort to strike a
    bargain were the name of the murder victim, that she had
    been killed in a park, and that her head had struck a tree
    (Mataya’s wife had repeated to Hertel, what she had learned
    from the police, that Claflin had been found with bark
    embedded in her head). Everything else—the heavy purse,
    the strangulation (we take the garbled statement that “she
    was gasping for air, and making weird noises, so her pants
    around her neck and drugged, and then he knew she was
    dead after the body went limp” to mean that Mataya ac-
    knowledged to Hertel strangling Claflin with her pants), the
    fracturing of her skull, the proximity of a pond, the biting,
    the white pants, the bleaching, and her being naked beneath
    a covering of twigs, leaves, and grass—Hertel could have
    learned only from the murderer. There is no suggestion that
    he may have learned it from someone, not Mataya, who was
    the real murderer. Nor is there evidence or reason to believe
    that the police planted these facts in Hertel’s head. And
    while more of the details may have come from Mataya’s
    wife than she admitted on the stand, her source, like
    Hertel’s, could only have been Mataya, either directly or
    through her son, Mataya’s stepson, who had seen Mataya
    cleaning his pants and his car and might have told his
    mother. There is no reasonable possibility that Hertel simply
    made up the facts that he recounted to the police and that
    his fabrication just happened to correspond to the truth. The
    odds against such a coincidence between fiction and fact are
    astronomical.
    In insisting that Hertel’s motivations were material in the
    Brady sense, Mataya’s lawyers ignore a distinction that is
    as old as Aristotle’s treatise on rhetoric. We learn there
    that when the truth of an assertion cannot be verified, the
    character of the person making it becomes important (but
    8                                                   No. 02-2850
    not otherwise). Is he the kind of person who always tells the
    truth or the kind who yields to a strong inducement to lie?
    Given Hertel’s criminal record, there was no reason to credit
    him with being a reliable witness or to doubt that he would
    lie to avoid a heavy prison sentence. This would matter
    greatly if his testimony had been unverifiable, as in such
    cases as Giglio v. United States, 
    405 U.S. 150
    , 154-55 (1972),
    and Crivens v. Roth, 
    172 F.3d 991
    , 998-99 (7th Cir. 1999). But
    it was verifiable simply by comparing what he said with
    what only someone who had talked to the murderer would
    have known. Had a known liar found a written confession
    of Mataya, and a handwriting expert confirmed that the
    confession was indeed in Mataya’s hand, the fact that the
    confession had been found by a liar would not undermine
    its veracity. It is the same here. The correspondence between
    the facts narrated by Hertel and the actual facts of the
    murder establish that, like the known liar in our example,
    Hertel was merely the transmission belt for Mataya’s
    confession.
    The confession by itself was compelling evidence of
    Mataya’s guilt, and in addition it was corroborated, and not
    merely by Claflin’s having indeed been murdered. Mataya’s
    lawyer picks away at each piece of corroborating evidence
    (the dentist’s, the stepkids’, etc.) but in doing so overlooks
    another important point about proof: that a number of weak
    proofs can add up to a strong proof. Rowan v. Owens, 
    752 F.2d 1186
    , 1188-89 (7th Cir. 1984); cf. United States v. Jakobetz,
    
    955 F.2d 786
    , 793, 798-800 (2d Cir. 1992). Suppose, by way
    of analogy, that someone claims that a coin is so weighted
    that when flipped it always comes up heads. So it is flipped,
    and, sure enough, it comes up heads. This is feeble evidence
    to prove that it always does this because even if the coin
    were perfectly balanced there would be a 50 percent chance
    that the first toss would come up heads. So the coin is
    flipped again and again and again and again and each time
    No. 02-2850                                                9
    it comes up heads. Now the likelihood that the coin is
    perfectly balanced is much less. For example, in five tosses,
    the probability that an evenly balanced coin will not turn up
    5
    tails even once is only 3.125 percent (1–.5). Suppose there
    were a 50 percent chance that the bite marks on Claflin’s
    breast had not been made by Mataya, a 50 percent chance
    that the car that Cole saw and heard was not Mataya’s (here
    the maximum probability was 50 percent, and the actual
    probability lower), a 50 percent chance that Mataya was not
    bleaching bloodstains out of his white pants the night of the
    murder, a 50 percent chance that he did not make the
    incriminating statements that his wife and stepdaughter
    reported, and a 50 percent chance that he did not make the
    incriminating statements to the police that they reported.
    Nevertheless the probability that none of these five highly
    incriminating events or sets of events had occurred would
    be only 3.125 percent—provided they were independent
    events in the sense that if one were false this wouldn’t make
    it more likely that another was false as well. Branion v.
    Gramly, 
    855 F.2d 1256
    , 1265 (7th Cir. 1988). The percentage
    figures are arbitrary, and we may assume without having to
    decide that without Hertel’s evidence no reasonable jury
    could have found Mataya guilty beyond a reasonable doubt.
    Our point is only that because “it is wrong to view items of
    evidence in isolation when they point in the same direc-
    tion,” Rowan v. Owens, 
    supra,
     
    752 F.2d at 1188
    , Hertel’s
    evidence was not only self-validating but also strongly
    corroborated by the other evidence that the state presented.
    Mataya argues that a distinct violation of his rights oc-
    curred when the prosecution failed to correct Hertel’s false
    testimony that he had been offered no inducements to
    testify beyond the reward and the favorable letter. But this
    violation of the prosecution’s constitutional obligations was
    not distinct from the Brady violation in any realistic sense.
    Had the prosecution corrected Hertel’s falsehood on the
    10                                                 No. 02-2850
    spot, as it should have done, that would have cured the
    Brady violation, United States v. Knight, 
    342 F.3d 697
    , 705-06
    (7th Cir. 2003); United States v. Higgins, 
    75 F.3d 332
    , 335 (7th
    Cir. 1996); United States v. Scarborough, 
    128 F.3d 1373
    , 1376
    (10th Cir. 1997), but the failure to correct did not make the
    violation any more serious. All that Mataya is complaining
    about is that Hertel’s deal with the prosecution was con-
    cealed from the jury, and the fact that the prosecution had
    two opportunities to drop the mask—before trial, when it
    could have told the defense about the plea bargain, and
    during trial, when Hertel lied—has no bearing on the
    prejudice to Mataya from the concealment. That prejudice,
    as we have been at pains to show, was nil.
    Although the cases distinguish as a matter of nomencla-
    ture between knowing use of false testimony and the
    withholding of evidence favorable to the defense, the first
    being a Napue violation (Napue v. Illinois, 
    360 U.S. 264
    (1959)), and the second a Brady violation, see, e.g., United
    States v. Boyd, 
    supra,
     
    55 F.3d at 243-45
    , the standard is the
    same. United States v. Williams, supra, 
    81 F.3d at 1438
    . And
    the violations are likely to merge in a case such as this in
    which the value of the withheld evidence to the defense was
    its potential utility for impeaching the government’s witness
    as a liar. See, e.g., Giglio v. United States, supra, 
    405 U.S. at 153-55
    ; cf. Banks v. Dretke, 
    supra,
     
    124 S. Ct. at
    1271 n. 11.
    When the government’s witness testifies, the prosecutor will
    probably know immediately that he’s lying. (We hedge with
    “probably” because he may have forgotten or never known
    the impeaching fact that defense counsel is trying to elicit on
    cross-examination.)
    One last point, and we are done. Recall that Hertel was
    given $1,000 as part of the consideration for his “coop-
    eration and testimony.” To pay a witness, other than an
    expert witness, for his testimony is irregular and in fact
    is unlawful in federal trials, 
    18 U.S.C. § 201
    (c)(2); United
    No. 02-2850                                                  11
    States v. Condon, 
    170 F.3d 687
    , 689 (7th Cir. 1999), though it
    is claimed that federal prosecutors sometimes do pay
    witnesses for their testimony, J. Richard Johnston, “Why
    Is It OK for the Prosecution, But Not the Defense?,” 11
    Crim. Justice, Winter 1997, p. 21, and in United States v. Boyd,
    
    supra,
     
    55 F.3d at 244
    , we noted the “scandalous” favors with
    which the government in that case had showered its prize
    witnesses. The practice of paying witnesses for their testi-
    mony apparently is forbidden in trials in the state courts of
    Wisconsin as well. Wisconsin Supreme Court Rule of
    Professional Conduct for Attorneys 3.4(b) comment. To pay
    in money, that is; immunity from prosecution, a lighter
    sentence, placement in a witness-protection program, and
    other breaks are lawful coin in this realm. United States v.
    Condon, 
    supra,
     
    170 F.3d at 688-91
    ; United States v. Singleton,
    
    165 F.3d 1297
    , 1302 (10th Cir. 1999) (en banc).
    But it is commonplace to offer money rewards for infor-
    mation leading to the apprehension of a criminal, and at
    argument the state’s lawyer explained that the $1,000 paid
    Hertel had come from a fund for the payment of such
    rewards. Yet it was the state itself that in questioning Hertel
    at trial had denominated the $1,000 as compensation for
    cooperation and testimony, not merely for information
    leading to Mataya’s arrest, though the information Hertel
    gave the police was decisive in their decision to arrest
    Mataya. (They had questioned him shortly after the crime,
    but had not arrested him.) Paying for testimony, as well as
    concealing evidence of inducements given to a government
    witness, are breaches of prosecutorial ethics, but do not, in
    this case at any rate, undermine the conviction. If anything,
    the fact that the jury was told that Hertel had been paid for
    his testimony made him a less credible witness—or rather
    would have made him such had it not been for the self-
    validating character of that testimony.
    AFFIRMED.
    12                                           No. 02-2850
    A true Copy:
    Teste:
    _____________________________
    Clerk of the United States Court of
    Appeals for the Seventh Circuit
    USCA-02-C-0072—6-3-04