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THE CHAMBER
Kelley, only the latest in a stream of lawyers who have represented Ng in the case's twisted history, declined to comment when asked his personal opinion of his client. Ng is without doubt one of the few people not bothered by the delay. Every day that goes by dims the memories of the witnesses against him, and leaves fewer of them alive. Many have already passed away since the horrific events that took place in Wilseyville, California came to light in 1985, and more are likely to die by the time the case goes to trial there are 600 names on the witness list. Meanwhile, the families of his victims wait, and pray they will live long enough to see Charles Ng suck in his last breath in Calfornia's gas chamber. The Wilseyville Nightmare The world at large learned of the existence of Charles Ng on June 7, 1985, three days after a massive police investigation had begun at an unremarkable-looking cabin in a sleepy hamlet nestled in the Sierra foothills. By that time, Leonard Lake, too pathetic and human to be called evil but too cold-blooded and cruel to be considered fully human, was a breathing vegetable, kept alive by machines at a Kaiser Permanente Hospital near San Francisco. He would be declared brain dead the following day, when the plug was pulled. Committing suicide may have been the single most altruistic act of Lake's life. By dying, he saved California taxpayers millions of dollars in legal costs. His partner in crime was less generous. The events at Wilseyville came to light on Sunday, June 2, when a South San Francisco police officer responded to a routine shoplifting call at a lumber yard. A customer had spotted an Asian man stuffing a $75 vise into his jacket, and informed a clerk. When the police officer arrived at the lumber yard he encountered Lake, a burly bearded man with the look of an overweight, aging hippie. Lake told the officer that his friend was Chinese and didn't know any better. He said he had already paid for the vise, which the Asian man had thrown into the back of a tan 1980 Honda Prelude in the parking lot before fleeing the scene. |
Peering into the car, the officer saw what looked like a handgun. On closer inspection, he found a loaded .22 revolver and a silencer in a gym bag inside the car. A check of the Honda's license plate revealed that it was registered to a man named Lonnie Bond--but the plate was supposed to be attached to a Buick. Lake was arrested and taken in for questioning. He gave police a driver's license identifying himself as Robin Scott Stapley, a 26-year-old San Diego resident. Meanwhile, police ran a check of the Vehicle Identification Number on the Honda and discovered that it belonged to a San Francisco man named Paul Cosner. Something was definitely not right. Cosner, 39, had been reported missing almost nine months earlier. PAGE 3 | Page 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |
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