Lost evidence, possible corruption hinder Mexican authorities

By ALFREDO CORCHADO / The Dallas Morning News

CIUDAD JUÁREZ, Mexico – In the deep recesses of a warehouse where police keep physical evidence from the killings of local women, a smell permeated so
strongly that an official was compelled to take matters into his own hands.

The source of the stench was clothing, caked with blood, worn by one of the victims, a 10-year-old girl whose corpse had been dumped in the desert. Irked by the odor,
the official, a crime scene investigator, ordered the clothes washed – and then deodorized with fabric softener.

In doing so, the investigator unwittingly erased potential clues that could have helped authorities solve at least one of the many deaths in this troubled border region, said
Mexican and U.S. investigators familiar with the incident.

"I was aghast," said one of the investigators, speaking on condition of anonymity. "We lost crucial hair, fiber, prints, semen and God knows what other vital potential evidence."

Far from isolated, the incident is part of a pattern of mishandled evidence and police missteps that make solving the killings even more daunting for a new crop of investigators, U.S. and Mexican authorities say.

More than a decade has passed since Alma Chavira Farel – long considered likely the first victim in the nation's most prolific killing spree of women – disappeared in Ciudad Juárez, a sprawling city of 1.5 million people across the border from El Paso.

But hampered by corruption, sloppiness and incompetence, investigators will probably never solve dozens of these cases because crucial evidence was lost, burned, washed or even intentionally destroyed, some in exchange for money, for suspects seeking to clear their names, according to investigators, whose allegations are in part buttressed by a recent report from Mexico's National Human Rights Commission.

Altogether, the commission gained access to only 74 case files of the more than 400 slain women and only 395 of the 4,587 files of women reported to have disappeared in Ciudad Juárez. The explanation, members of the commission said in the report, was that "the authorities, as they told us, did not have access to the information."

Underscoring the neglect and incompetence by state authorities, the commission offered the following incident: Last winter homeless men took refuge from the harsh
cold by sneaking inside a warehouse housing many of the case files. The men made a fire to keep warm, using the documents as fuel.

Other documents were lost during an office move.

During a recent meeting with families of the disappeared, José Luis Soberanes, president of the Human Rights Commission, said, "With so much evidence of negligence,
we've asked ourselves many times: What would have happened if the murdered women were from a higher social status?"

The victims

Most of the victims were similar in appearance: young, slim, dark complexion, shoulder-length hair – the poor daughters of the working class, people with little political influence. The bodies of 90 to 100 women – no one has an exact count – bore signs of sexual torture. They were found in the desert, vacant lots, abandoned soccer fields and drainage ditches. All had been raped, some mutilated.

State authorities, led by Gov. Patricio Martínez, concede that errors were made but say they're making significant progress and blame the shoddy investigations on previous administrations.

"This investigation has been far from perfect, but we now have a far more professional team of investigators," spokesman Manuel Esparza said. "We're learning from prior mistakes."

He said the current investigative team had received training from top U.S. investigators, who are assisting a special task force of state and federal agents in investigating the sexual killings. He also said the government had invested up to $25 million to upgrade law enforcement operations.

Yet even today, months after U.S. law enforcement officials began training Mexican authorities on basic investigative skills like gathering and storing evidence, the problems continue. U.S. law enforcement officials say that although their Mexican counterparts have made "considerable progress," they continue to make basic mistakes, like losing case files or showing up at crime scenes without batteries in their cameras.

"There is no way to solve this thing, given the years, given the lost evidence," said a top U.S. law enforcement official, speaking on condition of anonymity. "I want to believe that the chances of solving the more recent cases are better than those of five, six, seven years ago, or wherever you start the count."

Whether the more recent cases will be solved remains to be seen. "The proof is in the pudding," the U.S. official said.

A Mexican intelligence official, also speaking on the condition of anonymity, agreed with the U.S. assessment, saying he doubted that some cases would ever be solved given the "serious deterioration of evidence."

Asked about the lost or damaged evidence, José Luís Santiago Vasconcelos, the chief of Mexico's organized crime task force with the national attorney general's office, said: "I would not say it will prevent us from solving cases. It does, however, complicate things."

The sorry state of the evidence in the Juárez killings has troubled Mexican federal investigators so much that they recently assumed a lead role in at least 11 of the
cases. In October, President Vicente Fox appointed a special commissioner to oversee the probe.

Mr. Esparza, the spokesman for the task force, said at least half of the cases have been solved and that more arrests are imminent. Among the crimes solved is the case
of the 10-year-old girl, he said. The suspect remains jailed.

Dozens of people have been arrested in the killings, but many remain jailed without being formally charged. Only one person has been convicted and sentenced, and his
case is being appealed.

Amnesty International and other human rights organizations have alleged that the state of Chihuahua routinely uses torture to force confessions, an allegation supported
by both the Human Rights Commission and, most recently, the United Nations, which called for a fundamental overhaul of the country's legal system.

The office of state Attorney General José Solís has denied all torture allegations, as well as allegations from investigators close to the cases that case documents have
been intentionally destroyed, lost or even sold.

'Anything is possible'

U.S. and Mexican investigators said some file cases have been sold to criminal suspects eager to clear their names. At least one attorney, Sergio Dante Almaraz Mora,
who represents a suspect in the killings, said he keeps file cases not in his office, but under lock and key in a secret place.

"In Mexican justice, anything is possible," Mr. Almaraz said. "Everything has a value and price. It's beyond shameful and pitiful. In Juárez nothing is done by
coincidence. Everything is carefully planned, well-coordinated and thought out carefully, detail by detail, usually by people who know what they're doing, people who
want the truth kept secret, people who prefer the deafening silence."

Meanwhile, the parents of some of the slain women have grown so frustrated with the shoddy investigation that they are shifting their focus from finding out what
happened to their daughters to pushing for the prosecution of law enforcement officials who allegedly mishandled the cases and tampered with evidence.

"I'll likely never see my daughter alive again," said Evangelina Arce, whose 29-year-old daughter, Silvia, disappeared March 11, 1998. "But I'm also aware of the fact
that I may leave this world without answers, without justice for her or from those who destroyed our lives. I can't resign myself to that."

Ms. Arce and other relatives, spouses and parents of missing men and women gathered at a Juárez hotel on a recent Sunday afternoon to press state and federal
authorities for new developments. When none were provided, the room erupted in a finger-pointing, tongue-lashing debate.

Some called for calm, saying the families had no choice but to work with state and federal authorities, but Lucía Solís stood and gave a different assessment.

"We do have a choice," Ms. Solís said. "These so-called investigators are so incompetent that we should just line them all up and shoot them." After a long pause, the
authorities, along with the host families, broke into nervous laughter.

Staff writer Ricardo Sandoval in Mexico City contributed to this report.