by Natasha Vargas-Cooper
The trial of Jesse James Hollywood has concluded. Part one of our coverage, regarding the circumstances of the trial, was published here on May 27; part two, describing the witnesses for the prosecution, was published here on June 18. Part three, a look at the defense, was published here on June 24. This is the final installment.
SANTA BARBARA-During the cross examination of Jesse James Hollywood, District Attorney Joshua Lynn approached the witness stand with a small, bulging envelope. He plucked a ring from the envelope and asked, “Do you recognize this ring?”
“No, sir,” Hollywood said.
“You’re telling me you don’t recognize this ring?” Lynn asked. Hollywood said no. Lynn slipped the ring back into the envelope and took an extended pause before more questions.
This is the moment when Jesse James Hollywood lost his capital murder case. Not long after, it would be recommended by the jury that he spend the rest of his life in prison, without parole. In October, the judge will or will not accept the jury’s recommendation.
The ring is chunky and gold with a wide band and a square black face. It’s a ring that’s meant for the thick fingers of man, not those of a bony teenager. Starting with Nick’s grandfather, the ring was given to the Markowitz men on their 16th birthday. At the reception for Nick’s bar mitzvah, Ben, his older step-brother, turned up drunk. Nick’s mother was upset and wanted Ben removed. He was belligerent and demanded to drive Nick home. The family quarreled in an upstairs recreation room at Shomrei Torah Synagogue. Ben cooled. To make amends, he gave Nick their father’s ring. After that night, Nick was never seen without it.
Though he didn’t recognize it, Hollywood had seen the ring at least twice before.
The first time was during the van ride up to Santa Barbara two days before Nick’s murder. According to testimony, after beating Nick to the ground and tossing him into a borrowed van, Hollywood and William Skidmore confiscated Nick’s pager, wallet, address, book and the ring. Hollywood sat in the passenger’s seat and placed all the items on the dashboard until they reached Santa Barbara.
The second time Hollywood saw the ring was when it was presented as evidence at the beginning of his own murder trial.
In his five-hour final address, Lynn presented the jury with a meticulously prepared PowerPoint presentation. There were 178 slides in total, 78 quotes from the record with corresponding page numbers, transcripts of 911 calls. All the slides were outfitted with a blue background and yellow font. The presentation reconstructed the chronology Nick’s beating, kidnapping, and murder; it was designed to show Hollywood’s hand actively moving those events along. Lynn concluded his closing remarks with a series of photographs that left Nick’s parents, members of the audience and some jurors sobbing.
* * *
You would not know that you were looking at a cadaver at first glance because the picture is a close-up of a boy’s shirtless back. The frame begins below his shoulder blades and cuts off at his hips. Blue boxer shorts narrowly puff out over the waistline of his jeans. His skin is a sickly yellow with streaks of dirt across it. His wrists cross over one another. Giant silver cocoons of duct tape, about an inch thick, obscure his hands.
The next picture was taken inside a lab or a morgue. It’s a snapshot of a hand. The fingers are swollen and look as though they’ve been dipped in a dark rubber. After death, the process of cellular breakdown causes the flesh to loosen, peel off and blacken. It’s called ‘skin slip’ or ‘gloving.’ The hand in the photograph lies limply, naked, except for a thick gold ring.
The last picture is of the backside of small, brown, skull. In the middle of the skull is a raised ridge where it looks as though two plates have been welded together. To the left of the ridge is a bullet-hole.
During the last few minutes of Lynn’s closing remarks, the gruesome photo of Nick’s decomposed hand lingered on the projector screen. Lynn reminded the jury that though Hollywood was able to recall what he had for lunch ten years ago, he was either unable or unwilling to place where he had seen Nick’s gold ring before. It seemed, according to Lynn, that Hollywood only has a fantastic “memory for things that don’t get him in trouble.”
* * *
“This case reminds me of the movie Get Shorty,” defense attorney Alex Kessel said to the jury in his turn. “It’s a movie about L.A. and the film business. Here, in this courtroom, in Santa Barbara, it’s more like Get Hollywood.”
Kessel attacked the state’s unwillingness to call conspirator Ryan Hoyt as a witness and their refusal to allow phone records into their case that would prove Hollywood never made any attempt to contact the Markowitz family. His point was: the charge that Hollywood ordered Nick killed for revenge or ransom was unfounded. Kessel fired off for another hour, assailing this small matter and that.
During this, the reporters around me, who were usually diligent note-takers, put their pens down. I wondered if they stopped writing for the same reason I did: Kessel’s argument was so scattered and confusing, it was near impossible to follow. Maybe that was the point.
* * *
Kessel’s colleague James Blatt, the more obnoxious of the two, this time took the more restrained approach. He began by addressing a query that the defense had carefully avoided: what was Ryan Hoyt’s independent motive for killing Nicholas Markowitz? (Hoyt was convicted for his role in the murder in 2000; he is currently on death row at San Quentin.)
“What motivates young people?” Blatt asked. He tried out a theory. Hoyt was driven to murder because he wanted “acceptance.” Blatt described Hoyt as a delusional, broken boy who wanted to emulate the gangster lifestyle and was able to fulfill that dream by spraying a teenager’s body with bullets.
But as for Hollywood, Blatt said, well: given his obsessive compulsion for order and detail, he would have never been a part of such a poorly-constructed plan. Even though he was a drug dealer, Blatt said, “he was a businessman”-and would have never let a brute like Hoyt handle his affairs.
Blatt thought that this case was similar to what he thought of as the U.S. government’s regular prosecution of outsiders. Blatt likened this case to Japanese internment camps, the McCarthy trials, and the frenzied persecution of child molesters of recent decades. Blatt described Hollywood as an outsider, too. He was a privileged young man who owned his own home but obtained it through illicit means.
Blatt wondered if the case would have attracted as much attention if Jesse James Hollywood “had a different name?”
* * *
Jesse James Hollywood owned the Tec-9 that was used to kill Nick Markowitz. Hollywood beat Nick and took his grandfather’s ring. The van that Nick was thrown into belonged to Hollywood’s godfather. Ben Markowitz owed Hollywood money but Hollywood was too afraid to confront Ben directly.
When you put these facts together, the prosecution argued that you have means, motive and a weapon that all trace back to Hollywood. But these facts were known even before the case went to trial. So did Jesse James Hollywood willfully set into motion a chain of events that caused the murder of Nick Markowitz? The jury, at least, said yes.
But was this verdict inevitable? Not at all. Hollywood was not present at the time of the murder and was not convicted on aggravated kidnapping (he was convicted on a lesser kidnapping charge), presumably because Nick was left unrestrained for most of his capture. Hollywood was recommended for life in prison, in part, largely because his defense team failed to provide any compelling counternarrative for Hollywood’s motives and actions.
And though the defense had Hollywood testify, his endless denial of any responsibility reinforced a perception that he was a ruthless operator.
When the pictures of Nick’s remains flashed inside the courtroom Jeff and Susan Markowitz pressed their faces together and let out sobs. During Blatt’s closing remarks, he implied that the Markowitzes were playing up the drama for the jury. They had seen the pictures several times before. From the audience, Jeff snapped, “It’s been ten years.”
Judge Brian Hill intervened and asked the defense if they wanted Nick’s father removed from the court. Jeff said there would be no need and walked out of the courtroom. Hours of remarks passed. Too nervous to hear Lynn’s final words, I left during one of Blatt’s last objections. Outside on the empty steps of the courthouse, Jeff stood waiting for Susan. I stood with him and we spoke about Nick. He was anxious but composed.
I had taken a call on my cellphone when the members of the Hollywood family came out. Jack Hollywood, Jesse’s father, approached Jeff. Jack told him he was sorry for what had happened but assured Jeff that no one from Jack’s family would ever hurt his. Jeff did not respond, and Jack Hollywood swiftly walked away.
