Climbing Into The Head Of A Murderer

A College Murder

The Knox College Murder rocked a sleepy little town. It wasn’t the first but fortunately was the last. College is supposed to be a time for students to explore their futures, find who they are as young adults, and determine their paths. Alas, that is not always the case.

20 murders were reported in 2019

— National Center For Education Statistics

Clyde Best and a young college girl were out one night and went from enjoying college life. Things turned tragic and she ended up dead. While nobody knows for sure what happened to lead to her demise, it was clear that Best murdered her.

For months I was one of many that were in charge of securing Best while he awaited trial for the murder. He was unlikely to go anywhere on a 1,000,000.00 dollar bond. Himself, he was just a kid in his late teens and appeared scared. Appearances can be deceiving.

The Question: Can I Talk To You

As somewhat of an enigma, Clyde was never easy to figure out. There were times he’d act like every other guy.

Being a high-profile case, and with all the considerations involved at the time, he was kept under protective custody at night. Nighttime is the hardest time for pre-trial detainees and the loneliness, desperation, and environment can lead to suicidal thoughts. Being part of the job, it was our duty to protect him and the other inmates, even if it was from themselves.

After moving him to an observation cell, I finished up with cell checks before shift change and then came back to check on him.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked.

There were no advanced warnings of what was to come next and at 26 and barely a year into my career, I wasn’t necessarily ready for what came next.

“I know who really killed that girl,” he told me.

Jailers typically aren’t in on the details of a case. We don’t go to crime scenes. We don’t know the gritty details that aren’t released in the press, much of which never is until after trial.

Why did he want to talk to me? Because, as he explained, he trusted me more than he did the cops. Even though I wore a police uniform, was a sworn-in deputy sheriff, and took an oath. Maybe agreeing to talk to him wasn’t in my best judgment. I wasn’t exactly ready for what was coming. However, curiosity got the best of me. So I sat across from him, in a locked room, notebook in hand and ready to hear him out.

The story was too incredible to be true. It was a story about a young man he’d known his entire life. He called him “Dupree” and said that he’d seen “Dupree” on the campus the night of the murder. He was selling the story as if he believed what he was saying was the truth.

“If I could get someone downstairs (the police) to look into this, where would they look for Dupree.”

Sure, it seems like an obvious question. And, if I’d known all the gritty details of the case beforehand, I wouldn’t have sat through this ordeal as long as I had.

“I know where he is right now,” Clyde told me.

Hum? This was the unexpected part. He knew where a second suspect might be. At least he thought he did.

“Well,” I asked, “Where is he?”

Clyde looked me right in the eyes and pointed his finger to the empty spot beside me.

“He’s sitting right there.”

Was He Crazy Or Just Plain Smart

What was done couldn’t be undone. Clyde knew that much. So, how does a 19-year-old respond to being a murder suspect? By using the brains that it took to get into Knox College. Unfortunately, for Clyde, he went in the wrong direction.

The discussion in the cell wasn’t the end of the night. I still had 4 more hours on duty and that was time enough to wrap my head around the event and figure out what to do next. Questions abounded that night. Why me? Why now?

With less than a year on the job, and performing it in front of people that had nothing to do but think about things they could do to get over the system, it occurred to me that Clyde picked me for a reason. I was anal retentive when it came to writing everything down, and reporting everything that happened. That was what he needed, at least he thought so.

Clyde was also an insatiable reader. What he was reading all the time popped into my mind at 1:00 in the morning. Even a short exam of his books told a story. Books on psychological diagnosis, sociological diagnoses, criminal psychology disorders, the criminal mind, and legal defenses.

The Questions

Clyde Best asked me three questions that will always stick out in my mind. The first one came when he asked, “Can I talk to you?”

The second question was as damming as a confession would have been, in my opinion. It was on the morning he was sent, temporarily, to the Department Of Human Services.

“You think I played this wrong, don’t you?”

It wasn’t for me to decide, but the truth was, yes I did.

The final question Clyde Best ever asked me while I was one of the men and women in charge of securing him in jail happened on the morning of him being shipped to the Illinois Department Of Corrections.

“Do you still think I played this wrong?”