Part of the job is finding money and putting it to good use

FLINT, Mich.—It was somehow fitting that when I met with Flint’s cold case homicide unit the mercury sat at 3 degrees. Don’t worry about your favorite columnist, though. It warmed up to a cozy 18 before the day was over.
Flint’s specialized unit, paid for by a federal grant, consists of two-and-a-half men.

The grant supplies funds for 14-year veteran Michigan State Police Trooper Joe Jones along with retired 35-year veteran Flint homicide detective Gary Elford. Elford works half time and is officially listed as an “analyst.”
Flint detective Greg Hosmer, 20 years on the Flint department, rounds out the crew.

I hope the grant writer from CVPD reads this. Formed just over two years ago, the unit examined the logbook that chronicled Flint’s homicides from 1970 until 2006—roughly 1600 killings.

Information in the ledger revealed 493 unsolved murders. However, after review, the detectives realized many of the cases had been closed by arrest, but had not been updated.

As of today, there are 448 unsolved killings. The team also considers cold cases within Genesee County. Since inception, the unit has teamed up with prosecutors to get more than 20 convictions.
Many of the cases will remain unsolved because there is no physical evidence, and many witnesses are no longer available.

Sadly enough, some evidence has been lost or destroyed, along with entire case files. But, in many of the cases, blood, saliva, and other bodily excretions will allow for DNA extraction and cataloging that could lead to identification of suspects. Witnesses to other killings might finally get brave enough to come forward too.
In the beginning, the task of case review was daunting. Other jurisdictions, like San Diego have interns who review files to see if evidence might exist upon which the detectives can build a case. Flint has no such luxury.
These cops must pull the case themselves, pore through the file, and evaluate facts to determine if there is anything to work with.

Currently, 20 victim photos are displayed on the cement block wall of the office in the department’s lower level. These photos represent cases the three are now working.
Some photos have “suspect identified” taped on them. This means the detectives have a pretty good idea who did the killing.

They might be lacking physical evidence or a witness willing to tell the truth. It is frustrating to know who committed a murder but also knowing there is insufficient evidence or reluctant witness testimony upon which to file a complaint.
Remember, the prosecution only gets one bite at the apple. If a guilty defendant is acquitted, he is free forever no matter what evidence surfaces later. He cannot be tried again.

Flint’s unit has obtained court orders to exhume three bodies. That’s a tall order because many, even in the law enforcement profession, are hesitant to do this without strong cause. However, valuable evidence has been found through this gruesome method.

Because of Michigan’s tenuous economic situation, getting DNA work completed is difficult. For example, the San Diego Police Department has its own DNA lab. If a neighboring police department has a request, it is usually handled in a reasonable amount of time.

In the past, Michigan police departments, except Detroit, submitted DNA requests to the state crime lab, with an acceptable turnaround time.

However, the city of Detroit recently shut down its DNA lab and now sends everything to the state. Because of the volume of Detroit murders, this caused the state police DNA “machine” to grind almost to a halt.
The average time for results on a DNA submission in Michigan is now 15 months. This is a crisis the locals have to live with.
The three detectives work without complaint. They know their lot in life is a tough one. Whining is useless. They just keep working, hoping for the best.
As I looked at the victim photos, my breathing stopped momentarily. On the wall was a photo of a guy I went to school with.
After my family moved while I?was in eighth grade, Patrick West and I were opponents in high school football. He was a solid, tough guy with eight brothers and sisters.
West, who was 27 years old at the time of his homicide, was moonlighting in a 7-11 store when two thugs robbed him in 1973.
They never asked for money, according to a witness. They blasted him with a shotgun before opening the register. Doctors put his insides back where they belonged, and hoped.
Pat only lived for three months. The detectives have a good idea who did it, but the code of silence among witnesses is alive and well. The detectives promised they’d let me know if they made an arrest.