All language subtitles for I AM A KILLER_S01E10_A Matter of Life and Death.en.closedcaptions

[man] Every man has his own mindset
and own power to choose his own destiny.

And yes, I did ask for the chair,
and the reason that I asked for the chair

is because it's pretty much
an instant death.

Many speculate that the reason
I had asked for the chair

was to prolong my execution.

Uh, and that's false.

l know that I'm guilty.

And what's the point
in having capital punishment

if it's not going to be used
in a proper manner?

[man 1]
And I walked up, I fired one shot.

And as I got closer,
I fired one more shot.

[man 2] She was shot through the cheek
and it stopped in her jaw.

[man 3] I drove him around behind a desk
and I stabbed him approximately 25 times.

[man 4] I couldn't believe it.

I just thought I can't believe
I just killed somebody.

[man 5]
I don't feel bad about it. [laughs]

[man 6] I started stabbing him,
stabbing the guy on the couch.

[man] You don't lock human beings
up in a cell. They're not animals.

You just don't do it.
You can't expect that individual

to be a human being
after putting them in that cell forever.

It just don't work that way.

It makes a person even worse

than what they were
when they went in there.

[indistinct chattering]

I was born in Pueblo, Colorado,
April 12th, 1973.

My father was an alcoholic.

He was always out drinking
or out running around with his friends.

Uh...

He was very physically abusive
towards all my stepmothers.

I remember one time very clearly.

Uh, he had beaten Shelly so bad
that she looked like

something that had stepped out
of the ring with Mike Tyson.

Half of her hair was yanked out
of her head,

both her eyes were swollen shut,
her nose was busted, her mouth was busted.

Had we have kept any guns in the house
or whatever, which my father never did,

I'd have killed my father

and I should have done that
a long time ago.

From that point forward,
my run-ins with the law just escalated.

I started running away from home,
started stealing checks from my dad,

started stealing money from my dad,
trying to get out of that,

desperately trying to get out
of that environment

and then finally
when I was, like, 15, 16 years old,

I left his house.

I said I couldn't take it anymore,
I'm at the age now I can leave your house.

[Doty] My grandfather used to tell me
all the time,

"Son, you need to not hold things
in your head

because if you hold things in,
it's going to build up

and things are gonna explode
and you're gonna wind up

in trouble, serious trouble."

And that's what winded up happening.

I started drinking more

and became more agitated
and more aggravated.

Uh, and Harvey Horne was my foreman.

He was also a middleman in crystal meth.

So I'd go over there
and do meth every now and then.

I was over at his house one night.

Now, I went over there with a pistol,

but I didn't intend on robbing him
or doing anything to him.

I brought that gun over there
for a trade-out for drugs.

When I showed up over there,

we had both been up
for about a week straight on crystal meth.

An argument ensued.

When he got up out of his chair,
I knew right then and there

that we're either going to have
a hell of a fight on our hands,

or I was going to have to kill him
right away or at least hurt him

and hell if I'm going to shoot him,
why not kill him?

And I was able to push him back off me
and when I pushed him back off me

I pulled the revolver up
and I shot him point blank in the face.

[gunshot]

I didn't know whether he was dead or not,

so I said, "Well, I can't just leave a man
half dying in his house"

and I unloaded the gun five times
in his face.

[gunfire]

Did he deserve to die? Probably not.

But he's dead and I can't bring him back.

The state was seeking the death penalty,

but due to I didn't have
any severe prior histories,

they dropped the death penalty
and wound up sentencing me

to life in prison
without possibility of parole.

[rumbling]

I got a high expectation for respect.

I give respect,
I want the same thing back,

no matter whether you're an inmate,
no matter whether you're an officer.

It doesn't always go that way,
especially with inmates.

[footsteps approaching]

At the time, I was selling tobacco,
which we're not allowed to have,

so it's like a black market.

[keys jangling]

Xavier Rodriguez.

I initially had thought
he had stolen something from me.

He was young. He had a slick mouth on him.
Uh, he called me "pussy-ass cracker".

I told him,

"We're going to put like handcuffs on you,

which was made out of sheets,
and if you can get out of them

I'll give you a pack of rip".

You know, and a pack of rip
is like a hundred dollars

in this place back then.

Um, so he agreed to do it.

I walked up behind him
and I put him in a sleeper hold...

to make him pass out.

And I know that once you cut the blood
circulation off to the brain,

within minutes they're going to die

because your brain
is without blood oxygen.

About 15 seconds, uh,
he had pissed all over himself.

I could see the urine on the floor.

And I stabbed him approximately 25 times
within his abdominal area and upper area.

After he was killed,
you know, I smoked a cigarette,

took a shower afterwards
and went down to the quarter deck

and said "Hey, man,
you got a dead body upstairs."

It was very calculated.

To be in a maximum-security facility

and to be able to accomplish that
was-- was pretty good.

[door rattling, clanks]

[Doty] There's no questionable doubt
about my guilt in this case.

I see no sense in trying
to beat myself up mentally,

uh, and sitting back

and fabricating a fantasy
that I'm not guilty, when I know I am.

[car engine revving]

I'm Mary Cole.
I'm Wayne Charles Doty's mom.

This is Randy.
He'd just recently got out of the army.

We dated for a while
and I got pregnant and we had Wayne.

He weighed six pounds,
12 ounces, I believe.

And he was curly hair, blonde, blue eyes.

Looked just like his father, right there.
His father's blonde, blue eyes.

He liked his freedom, Randy did.

You know, he used to be
the kind of husband

that would go and don't come back.

[dog barking]

[Cole] One day, Randy and I
had got in an argument.

And I went to the grocery store.

And when I came back,
Wayne and Randy were gone.

I called the police.

I told them that my son was gone
and the dad him, took the baby.

And they said, "Well, were you separated?"
And I said, "No, we weren't."

And they said, "Well, Randy has his,
you know,

the father has as much right
to the child as you do."

And I just thought
maybe he would show up,

sooner or later and he never did.

Never brought Wayne back,
or didn't let me know anything.

Wayne told me that Randy had told him
that I was dead.

[insects, birds chirping]

He went into his grandmother's barn
in Michigan and found pictures of myself,

which he didn't know who that was,
asked his grandma who that was.

And she told him, "That's your mother."

The next time I seen him,
he was a lot older, 20, 21 years old.

Wayne called and wanted to come to Denver

and be with-- meet with his brothers
and his sister.

And we flew him out here.

And he was here approximately
three months, the most.

When he was here,
he probably felt out of place.

Like, do I really belong here?
Or don't I belong here?

He got a job. He bought himself a car.

He used to like to go camping,
so he had friends

and they would leave on Friday night
and come back on Sunday.

We came home. No Wayne's car outside,

no nothing, so I thought,
"Well, that kid is out again tonight".

The next day, nothing.

And his boss that he was working for,
his employer,

called and told me that,
"He's gone, he left, he quit.

And he's gone back to Florida.
His father needed him there."

I don't understand why he up
and left the way he did.

Did Randy have that much power
over him or...?

You know,
or did Randy make him feel guilty,

as to he needed to go back there?

I didn't hear anything for a while,

and then, Randy called me and said,
"Mary?"

And I said. "Yes?"

And I... the voice, you know,
that Floridian accent.

"Mary?" "Yes?"

"This is Randy." "Well, no shit."

"What do you want?"

"Well, Wayne's really done it now."

"What did he do?"

"Well, he just shot some guy
in the face five times."

[seagulls calling]

[engine starts]

[man] Wayne Doty killed my father,
murdered him in cold blood.

Shot him in the face.

My father's name
was Harvey Eugene Horne II.

My name's Harvey Eugene Horne III.

We spent many a Sunday morning fishing
out on the water,

spending just father and son time
basically.

We, uh... we had a lot of great days
on the lake fishing.

Most of my earliest memories
was going fishing

and most of my earliest happy memories
were fishing with my father.

[insects chirping]

Me and my father were very close,

I was an only child, no brothers
and no sisters,

so I got all the attention.

[laughs]

All the love and caring and everything

that I guess you could spread
on one person.

He gave it to me all.

He had a great sense of humor.

All in fun, not vicious or anything,

but just a great guy,
just a fun guy to be around.

Right before my 21st birthday,

I, uh, was at work
and some officers came to my work.

Then they told me the bad news,

the most horrible news I ever received
in my whole entire life,

that my father had been murdered,

had been shot to death.

Of course, I mourned the loss of him,
and in the meanwhile, I...

I did get myself in trouble

and did a few things I probably
shouldn't have never tried

and a few things
I shouldn't never have done.

It definitely had an effect on my life,
not having someone proud of you.

And... every son wants to make
their father proud of them

in one way, shape or form.

I really wish he was still here
to be able to cast out a pole with me

and enjoy the day, but, uh...

He's not, so every chance I get

I try to get on the water
and do the same thing.

I love you, Dad.

[Cole] He said, "Momma, I'm sorry, but...

I, uh, hope I get the death penalty,

I hope you can meet with my wishes."

And I told him I did,
that he was an adult,

he could do-- make his own choices.

But I don't want him to die.

Not until God says, "Okay, Wayne.
It's time for you to come."

But not of his own choice. [sniffles]

[Doty] There is no questionable doubt
about my guilt in this case.

Now, do I have remorse
for the victim himself?

No, I don't.

But I look at the victim's mother,
and if I was the one that was murdered,

I would want finality brought forth
towards my mother

if that was me in that situation.

[Cole] It was good to hear his voice.

He says he deserves it, but... [sniffles]

I'm sorry. But he...

He's saying he deserves to die
for taking that life.

But when he did it,

he did it to save himself, his business.

That kid tried to take Wayne's business.

It's hard to see how Wayne
was able to do those things.

I try to put-- Sometimes I try
and put myself in his position

and I don't believe that
that child ever seen real love

in his lifetime

except when he was tiny, tiny.

And I just believe that Wayne
spent so many years in prison

that he doesn't know anything else.

And what he's learned in prison,

living in prison,
is you either take care of yourself

'cause nobody else
is gonna do it for you, but...

Is that the way Wayne wants to die,
is somebody kill him?

And then he'd feel better?
Okay, now I can see Jesus?

Nope.

[birds chirping]

[Cervone] He argued against
the imposition of the death penalty...

but virtually everything he did
and presented to that jury,

would have in my mind,
moved them towards a conclusion

that death was the appropriate
recommendation.

I've had a great deal
of direct contact with him.

I don't usually get that,
certainly not with murder defendants.

He's a very interesting character,
he's a smart man.

He is also extraordinarily frightening,

in that he will tell you with no emotion
that he has killed before,

that he might kill again,

if he thought circumstances
made it appropriate.

He is motivated by a moral code

that is strong and unique to him

even if it would be totally foreign
and unacceptable to the rest of us.

But it is very much a part of his life.

Prior to a couple of years ago,
it was perfectly permissible

for a jury to recommend
a sentence of death by a majority

and for the judge then
to make a final decision.

At the time of Doty's first trial,
that's what happened,

a verdict of ten to two
recommended death.

The United States Supreme Court
changed the rules

on death penalties in the States,
and in Florida in particular,

a couple of years ago
in a case called Hurst.

Subsequent to the Hurst decision,
it must be unanimous.

[Cervone] The jury will be told
that they are not concerned

with whether or not he is guilty,
that's already been decided.

Their sole decision
is what the sentence should be.

Nothing has changed since the 2013 trial

that would make me think
any differently than I did then.

The only sentence that I think
I can ethically and legally seek is death.

I could use any number of words to use
to explain my feelings towards Wayne Doty,

but at this point in time, I choose not to
because it doesn't do any good.

Doesn't bring my father back,
doesn't change Wayne's opinion.

He wants to make a mockery
of our judicial system and decided that,

you know, that he needs to build a fight
for his right to be able to die.

Well... [scoffs] he didn't want to do that
when he killed my father.

After he killed my father,

he did everything he could do
to fight getting put in prison.

Personally,
I think he's a murdering coward.

Wayne Doty's a murdering coward,
that's exactly what he is.

And he's such a coward that
he would rather allow the state of Florida

to take his life
rather than him taking his own life.

He wasn't worried about life or living
until he decided he didn't like prison.

That's what he done,
spent some time in prison,

then Wayne changed his mind,
decided that this wasn't so great.

"So, my only way out is to kill myself,
but I'm a coward and I can't kill myself.

So I'm going to have somebody else
to kill me."

A lot of people's asked me, you know,

"Would it give you closure
if Wayne died in prison?

Would it give you closure
if he gets the electric chair?

Would it give you closure to know that
the man that killed your father is dead?"

There's no such thing as closure.

I don't know
where people come up with closure

because if you close something,
that means it's never open.

And that means you forgot about it,
and I'll never forget about what...

a murdering coward did to my father.

So me and my... thinking

and my way of feeling
is I'd love, absolutely love,

to see Wayne Doty become
the oldest living inmate to be still alive

in Florida State Prison.

To live out his old days, when he's old
and decrepit and he can't hardly walk,

and he's suffering
and there's no pain medication,

and there's no nothing to ease the pain,

no soft bed, no soft, you know, comfort.

I'd love to see Wayne suffer
for the rest of his life in prison,

to die a very old man in prison.

That's the best thing
that could ever happen to Wayne Doty.

[man] Wayne is a good guy.
Wayne is a great-- He's a great person.

Very... understanding human being.
He's very intelligent.

He's got a good heart.

[stammers] He's got a heart that's gold.

A lot of people would love
to have a heart like him.

My dad left me before I was born,

and then he ended up
overdosing off of heroin.

You know,
my mom wasn't really there for me.

The first time I went to prison
was in 2003.

After about me doing,
I'd say, five years in prison,

that's when I met Wayne through
a friend of mine that was a good--

He was a good dude and he said that

Wayne was a, um, good person
to talk to on a business level.

And once we started doing business
with each other on,

with, like, making money with,
like, chewing tobacco or whatever,

we started building a friendship
and it started building into, uh,

I'd say, a relationship
like a father and son.

And that's why I call him Dad,
because he's like a father to me.

I ain't never had a dad growing up, so...

[stammers] For someone like that--
The advice that he's given me

has been like
what a father would give a son, so...

it means a lot to me.

We write each other, like,
twice a week. He keeps me sane.

He keeps me in line. [chuckles]

Y'all want a letter from Wayne?

[sniffs] Here, come on, let's go in here.

These...

These are all letters from Wayne
right here.

"Monday, January 18th, 2016."

[snorts]

"Hello, son. Where do I begin?

First and foremost,
know that Dad loves you

and my love is unconditional, son.

I think about you
more than you probably do me,

but that's fine."

"Do you want to be back in prison?"
[sniffles] Definitely not.

"That's where you are headed, son.

Do you want to lose your license?

One more DUI
and you'll be a habitual offender.

Prison time, no license.

Forget all that. You damn near died.

I love you and I know damned well
you can do better than that, Brett."

Look at all the letters.
I mean, that's corresponding.

Too much to count.
I mean... [stammers] there might be--

I might have a letter
from every day, it seems like.

He's got my back
and I got his back, and that's just--

When you got somebody--

It's better to have one solid friend
than 30 fake friends.

And when you can really express
to somebody, you can trust somebody,

and you know they're not
gonna turn on you,

[stammers] it's priceless.

[Meez] Wayne killed Rodriguez
over the tobacco.

Wayne was given a big bomb of tobacco,

okay, to put on the confinement cart

to bring to somebody else.

Rodriguez stole the tobacco.

That's a lot of money, you know.
Something's got to happen.

Wayne was put in the situation to where
it was either his life or Rodriguez.

It wasn't like he just walked by
and shot him or something for no reason.

[stammers] There's was a motive.

There was a reason behind of what he did.

But he was also forced to do it in a way.

[thuds]

[Meez] If he would have had a father
and a mother that was supportive of him

and were there for him growing up,

he wouldn't be in the situation
that he is in now.

If they execute him, you know, [stammers]
it would be devastating to me.

Because he's like a father figure to me.

You know,
he's always giving me great advice.

I have a different outlook on life now.

Um...

[stammers] He has been a major impact
on my life, definitely.

I said, "If you don't fight this,

you know, you're leaving people behind
that love you."

Love is unconditional.

When you love someone, you love them
no matter what.

No matter what choices they have made,
no matter what they have done.

When you love somebody,
you love somebody, that's what it is.

And I love him, he's like a dad to me.

He's my best friend.

[birds chirping]

[woman] As a standby attorney,

I have to be prepared at any moment
to step into this case.

Wayne, at any time,
he could turn to me and say,

"Hey, Copek, I want you to do this."

I think the chances with Wayne are slim,
but I have to be prepared for that.

Because, again, at every critical stage,
the judge has to again remind him,

"You have a right to a counsel in this,
do you want to have counsel?"

It's definitely fair to say that Wayne,

from the get-go,
as soon as he was sentenced to death,

was like, "All right, what do I need to do
to expedite my death sentence?"

I would say that I know Wayne very well.

Um, Wayne is a hard nut to crack.

But I like to think he's come to trust me,

not just as his lawyer but as a friend.

Wayne is obviously not educated,
but is he smart? Definitely.

Definitely, a keen intellect.
Um... and a curiosity.

I mean, there is this notion

that these guys that are on Death Row
are monsters and they're horrible,

and they, you know, there's no question
about it, they've done horrible things.

But that's-- it doesn't define
who they are, they are not just that.

I wouldn't want to be defined by my worst,

the worst thing that I ever did
in my life.

[door squeaking]

[Copek] Wayne has already been found
guilty of first-degree murder.

So the hearing that's coming up,
it's strictly just,

is he gonna get life
or is he gonna get death?

Capital trials are nerve-racking.

Really, all trials, once somebody's
liberty is being faced are nerve-racking.

But capital trials, when you're
talking life and death, it's intense.

Wayne is an honest, sometimes
brutally honest to a point, person.

And even if what Wayne is doing
is just putting it forth before the jury

and making it,
making it their decision

and he's not gonna advocate
for a certain position,

I still hope to God that he shows
this jury the goodness that's in him.

And, of course,

my hope is that they see
the value in his life and that they...

and that they spare his life.

[Harvey III] Wayne Doty's
a murdering coward.

That's exactly what he is.

And he's such a coward that he would
rather allow the state of Florida

to take his life
rather than him taking his own life.

I'd love to see Wayne suffer
for the rest of his life in prison,

to die a very old man in prison.

That's the best thing
that could ever happen to Wayne Doty.

I'm sorry he feels that way,
him not knowing me as an individual.

If he feels that I need to spend the rest
of my life in prison, then so be it.

His father wasn't
a crystal-clear individual.

Uh, did he deserve to die? Probably not,
but he's dead and I can't bring him back.

You know, I'm sorry,
I don't have to the power to do that.

[Meez] Wayne killed Rodriguez
over the tobacco.

It wasn't like he just walked by
and shot him or something for no reason.

[stammers] There's was a motive.

There was a reason behind
of what he did.

But he was also forced to do it in a way.

Wayne was put in a situation to where
it was either his life or Rodriguez.

I can't positively say
that Rodriguez was the actual one

that stole that tobacco from me.

I don't know whether he did it or not.
There was no evidence.

And I didn't see him with my own eyes
take anything from me off the cart

that it was supposed to be taken off of.

And after sitting back
and really thinking it over,

who in their right mind
would allow their hands to be tied up

when they've actually wronged somebody
in that direction?

We had words before,
you know, months prior, to where it was--

It started over a simple newspaper.

And he, by way of disrespect,
called me a pussy-ass cracker.

And in-- in prison or anywhere,
you know, for somebody to call me that,

that's very disrespectful,
that doesn't sit with me very well.

Why? Because I don't call people that.

And I have a high tolerance for respect.

If I give respect,
I want respect to be given back

no matter who you are
or what position you're in.

You know, I mean,
that's just human nature.

But, hey, he's gone now
and I can't bring him back, man.

[producer] And in your value system,
disrespect on that level,

calling someone a pussy-ass cracker
is grounds for murder?

It can be, because
if others hear somebody call you that,

and they see that you let it get by,

then you open yourself up
and you become prey.

It can open up a big door
that I'd just as soon not have opened up.

I'll shut it as quick as it opened up.

I'm 44 years old,
fixing to be 45 years old.

I'm older, I'm not a young jitterbug

like these young jitterbugs
are these days.

I can't stand and go ten to 15 minutes,
you know, with a young jitterbug.

It feels like he wants
to get his hands dirty,

you know, the only way
to put one of them out of their misery

is take them out
of their misery right away.

I know it sounds cold,
but it is what it is, man.

Does anybody ever have to kill anybody?
No, they don't.

You know, he definitely wasn't
a threat to me, you know, uh...

He didn't have to die, no, he didn't.
But he did and I can't bring him back.

At the time, it felt like it was the right
thing to do with that individual.

I'm a violent individual
and that's just the way I am.

[stammers] You know, that's what's
been embedded in me since I was a kid.

You know, and I'm just who I am.

I am guilty
for killing another individual.

I've accepted that responsibility.

I've stepped up to the plate
as a human being and accepted that.

That's a big responsibility,
that's a big chunk to accept.

You know, I put myself in this position
and now I'm wearing it.

If it was up to me, and you know,

[stammers] I'd go straight
from the court house to the death chamber.

I could finish this conversation
talking to you people right now

and walk straight to the execution chamber
and get it over with.

And look the family, the victim's family
in the face and tell them,

"Look, I'm sorry.
I can't bring your loved one back,

but if this is going to bring you closure,
then so be it. Let's move on.

You can move on with your life
and I'll be resting in a better place."

I've done something wrong

uh, and I've got to pay the consequences
for my actions.

I'm a murderer.

Normally, in this situation
and circumstance,

an attorney would normally stand here
before you and beg for you

to sentence their defendant,
their client, to life in prison.

And I had a long discussion
with my people yesterday.

And it's whatever justice
you seem... necessary,

make sure your decision

is based off the evidence
and not a personal decision...

and based off the law.

That's all I have to say. Thank you.

Members of the jury, you will now
please depart to begin deliberating.

Members of the jury,
I understand you have reached a verdict.

Please pass the verdict for me, bailiff.

[clerk] "We, the jury, unanimously
find that defendant Wayne C Doty

should-- should be sentenced
to death, yes."

[Doty] I wanna be remembered as
who I am. You know? Not somebody phony.

Or not somebody that's trying to be
something they're not.

I mean, what's the point
in having capital punishment

if it's not gonna be used
in a proper manner?

I mean, how many lives is it gonna take
or-- or for people to understand

that whatever it is that's going on
inside of my head

has been implanted there
ever since I was a kid?

And this is who I am
and I'm happy to be who I am

and I'm gonna always be who I am.

Not too many can say that, you know.

They'd rather run for the rest
of their lives and try to avoid reality

and I'm not-- I want to face it face on
and be dealing with it.