Up
until his death by lethal injection in the summer of 1993, San Antonian
Ruben Cantu steadfastly claimed that he had been framed at the age of
17 for shooting two men during a robbery. One of them died, and the
other lived to bear witness against him. An investigation of Cantu's
conviction by the Chronicle's Lise Olsen provides persuasive evidence
that his execution by the state was a mistake.
Opponents of capital punishment point to the fact that the Texas
criminal justice system is far from fool-proof. Inevitably, they argue,
death sentences will cause innocent people to suffer the ultimate,
irreversible miscarriage of justice. The poor are at greatest risk of
falling victim to a wrongful death sentence, as they must rely on an
appointed lawyer who might not give the case his full attention. Every
step of the way, from arrest to conviction to eventual execution,
Cantu's history matches that scenario.
The 15-year-old who admitted participating in the crime, David
Garza, has signed an affidavit claiming Cantu was not the gunman and
was not at the scene of the shooting. Garza, incarcerated for an
unrelated burglary, says both he and Cantu took a vow of secrecy not to
identify the killer. He says he's speaking out now because he continues
to be tormented by his failure to prevent the execution of his friend.
The surviving witness, Juan Moreno, testified at the trial that
Cantu was the killer. Moreno claims police pressured him to ID Cantu
after showing him Cantu's picture numerous times. He now says he is
sure Cantu was not the man who shot him.
The individual Garza claims did the killing told police at the time
that Cantu had confessed his role in the murder. There was no physical
evidence tying the defendant to the crime. The jury did not believe
Cantu's claim that he was in Waco stealing pickup trucks when the
shooting took place, despite the fact that his sister corroborated the
alibi.
Cantu's death sentence resulted in part from a later, unrelated
incident in which he shot an armed off-duty police officer during a
quarrel at a bar. That officer provided testimony that his shooting was
unprovoked. Cantu claimed both had been drinking and he was defending
himself. As the Chronicle investigation documented, the officer had
previous suspensions for brawling in a bar and abusing a prisoner.
Although he was never charged in that shooting, Cantu was arrested soon
after and tried for the robbery-murder.
Cantu repeatedly asked his attorney to corroborate his alibi by
finding several brothers who had been with him in Waco, but they were
never located. The Chronicle tracked down one of them, who says that
Cantu was not in San Antonio the night of the murder. Although Garza,
Cantu's co-defendant, tried to alert Cantu's attorney that he was
innocent before his execution, the lawyer never had time to visit him
in jail to discuss the matter.
As the forewoman of the jury told a Chronicle reporter, the jurors
did the best they could with the information they were given, but "the
bottom line is an innocent person was put to death and we all have our
finger in that." The district attorney at the time, Sam Millsap Jr.,
says he made a mistake trying Cantu for capital murder. Today's
criminal justice system, he said, allows people to be convicted based
on mistaken or corrupted evidence.
Jim Marcus is director of Texas Defender Services, which assists
many Texas death row inmates in their appeals. He says the Cantu case
shows the flaws in a system that frequently provides inadequate or
incompetent counsel for capital murder defendants, both at their trials
and during appeals. "When you have an airplane crash," Marcus said,
"the FAA gets together and commits to an independent investigation to
figure out where the failing was." He suggests a state commission
should do the same for the capital punishment system in Texas.
University of Houston Law Center professor David Dow is the director
of the Texas Innocence Network. He notes that Gov. Rick Perry has
appointed a Criminal Justice Advisory Council, which has a subcommittee
dealing with innocence issues. That group should thoroughly study the
Cantu case.
Of approximately 160 Texas convictions overturned following DNA
analysis, 70 percent of the wrongful prosecutions had relied solely on
eyewitness identifications. "There isn't any reason to think the Cantu
case is unique," Dow said.
Like Cantu, the next person to face execution in Texas, Tony Ford,
also was convicted of murder on the basis of the accounts of two
eyewitnesses, one of whom knew Ford was a suspect before making the
identification.
The execution of one innocent person in Texas is too many at the
hands of the state. The Chronicle's investigation of Ruben Cantu's life
and death strongly argues for both his innocence and the need for new
safeguards to prevent mistakes or malice from sending others to his
fate.