The Execution of Catherine Willows

The episode begins by forsaking the glitz of Las Vegas for the searchlight of a penitentiary. We then go inside, where we see blue-suited law enforcement officials strapping down someone in a prison-orange jumpsuit. The camera switches to the clock on the wall, and we see that it's two minutes until midnight. The strapping process continues; we're about to witness an execution by lethal injection. The only sounds accompanying the scenes are a slow, industrial murmur meant to mimic either a pulse or the slow thrum of machinery, the Velcro (TM) cuffs being fastened, the scissors sliding through fabric as they cut away the jumpsuit, a tiny wet noise as a needle is inserted and taped to the convict's skin. It's a marvelous way to point out how surreal the act of being put to death must seem for the person experiencing it. The two EMTs finish by attaching the pulse monitor, then walk away, leaving the convict laid out in front of a phalanx of law-enforcement personnel. A pulse monitor beeps steadily.

The camera then pulls back to an area behind a window, where a series of huge, numbered syringes are lying on a counter. The low mechanical thrum and the pulse meter are still the dominant sounds until we hear the convicted man sucking in his breath. We see him spread out as if on a crucifix (semiotics students, on your marks...), the clock ticks one minute closer to midnight, and then we're watching the bare chest of the convict rapidly rise and fall as he breathes heavily. We get the convict's-eye view of the ventilation grate, then another shot of him breathing (semiotics students, get set...) as he looks over at a curtained window. The curtains pull back abruptly, and we see a pair of fifty- or sixty-something people start as they see him. The convict looks over at the people, then looks away; inside the viewing area, the woman takes her husband's hand, and we see that they're holding a picture of a very attractive young woman wearing very dated clothing. In the second row, an African-American woman grimly looks at the faces around her. The clock clicks to midnight, and the scene turns into a vein. No, really -- we're seeing a TMICam shot in which actual red blood cells are rushing by in syncopation to the body's pulse. We then pull back to see a heart beating moistly, and then we switch even further back until we're with one of the men in the booth. He's the doctor, and he's picking up syringe #1 and feeding it into a tube. We follow the solution down through the tube, through the needle, and into the veins, where it meets up with the RBCs. The convict's eyes widen, he breathes in, and then the camera switches to the heart again, which slows with every beat. The man breathes out, and everyone watches in silence.

Just then, the phone rings. Cut to a crash cart entering the execution area, and the same men who prepped the convict for death now attempting to resuscitate him as someone barks, "We've got thirty seconds to revive him."

Oh, where to begin? How about with the issue of what may or may not have entered this guy's veins? Most lethal injection executions have this order: first, the barbiturate sodium thiopental puts the inmate into a deep sleep; second, a saline solution flushes through the IV; third, the muscle relaxant pancuronium bromide, which paralyzes the diaphragm and lungs, is injected; then, after another saline flush, potassium chloride is injected in order to interrupt any electrocardial functions. I'm going to assume that Nevada is one of those states that administers an astronomically large dose of sodium thiopental, and the EMTs were rushing in there to try and prevent a barbiturate overdose.

But let's stop and examine the whole oh, we went ahead with the execution, right on the stroke of midnight, and -- whoops! There's a call! angle. Dramatic, yes. Realistic? God, I hope not. Cruel and unusual for a person who was under the impression they were about to die? Absolutely.

Cut to Catherine catching Gil in the labitrail and telling him, "A stay. New evidence -- hair analysis. I've already overnighted the six pubic hairs found on the victim to Norfolk Department of Criminal Justice for mitochondrial DNA analysis." Instead of recapping the tedious chain of events in which a perp's pubes take the red-eye to the Old Dominion, I'm going to swerve into geek monologue number two for the night and explain why mitochondrial DNA analysis could make or break this stay. First -- mitochondria are organelles (a specialized body within a cell) responsible for cellular respiration; anyone who's ever taken basic biology can probably chirp that "mitochondria are the cell's powerhouses!" and may even know a thing or two about ATP production. That's not relevant here. What is relevant is that mitochondria are self-replicating; in other words, it takes a mitochondria to produce another mitochondria, and over the course of the last forty years, researchers (most notably Doug Wallace) deduced that mitochondrial DNA (mtDNA) inheritance is matrilineal-only; in other words, you've got your mom's mitochondria, and back on down the line. Mary-Claire King, a molecular geneticist from Berkeley, was responsible for pegging a 600-base pair region of mtDNA which is so variable from person to person, it can be used as a way of biologically linking mother to child unambiguously. In addition to the precision which mtDNA allows for in identifying individuals in testing, mtDNA is also more likely to be recovered in small or degraded biological samples, because mtDNA molecules are present in hundreds to thousands of copies per cell compared to the nucleus (the other repository for DNA in cellular samples). So, the whole point to testing the mtDNA in this case is to try and establish that it's the convict's hair found at the site, and they'll do so by amplifying that 600 bp region and cross-checking it against a maternal relative's sample via PCR.

Okay, then. Two science swerves in the first three minutes of the show has got to be some kind of record. Now that we know why the mtDNA is such a big deal, let's get back to what's on the screen. Catherine's telling Gil, "Defense thinks DNA's a magic pill for exoneration. I doubt if it's going to change the outcome." Gil has been silent as Catherine talks, and once they enter his office, she says, "You don't know what I'm talking about." "Not really," he allows. Catherine exposits for all of us: "People v. John Mathers. Serial. Western LVU. I was a rookie." Western LVU is turning into UC Sunnydale with the mortality rate. I wonder if they're in the same athletic conference -- the DEAD 10? Gil recognizes the case -- three dead coeds, all sexually assaulted with no semen found. The women were found dead and bound in garbage bags. Catherine explains, "The strongest evidence was victim #3, Charlene Roth. Mathers, a campus security guard, got murder one for that." Gil asks when Catherine can expect the mtDNA tests back, and Catherine says only, "I put a rush on it." Gil gives Catherine his full attention and asks, "Is this your first one?" Catherine admits that Mathers is her first death-penalty case to exhaust all the appeals and head to the chamber. We find out that Gil's already had two. Gil goes back to flipping through a file and asks, "So how you feel about it?" Catherine blinks, then says calmly, "Mathers was convicted and sent to death row by a jury of his peers. I played a small part. I presented my findings --" "Non-responsive," Gil says without looking up. I admit, the first time I saw this, I thought Gil wasn't looking at Catherine because talking so frankly with her was making him uncomfortable; on re-watching, I think he's doing it to give her room to open up and talk without being studied. Gil finally looks up at her, and Catherine realizes that Gil's already mapped the circles she's talking in; she says, "Okay, I haven't figured out how I feel about it." Gil replies, "It's just about evidence. It's not up to you whether he lives or dies. Case has no face."