Which puts us in no small bind. The ground rules when we spoke to Schiro in 1997 were that the information she provided would only be used in a book—not in news articles. She also exacted a pledge that we would not attribute information directly to her. And in a cautious but not unreasonable demand for a woman who spent her life married to the mob, she required a promise—however difficult to enforce—that we not cooperate in any law-enforcement inquiries stemming from said book’s publication.

If convicted, DeVecchio, 67, faces life in prison. Those are the kind of high stakes that take precedence over contracts and vows of confidence, no matter how important they may be to the business of reporting, and regardless of how distasteful it may be to violate them. The threat of a life sentence trumps a promise. Lin DeVecchio may be guilty, or he may be innocent. But one thing is clear: What Linda Schiro is saying on the witness stand now is not how she told the story 10 years ago concerning three of the four murder counts now at issue.

Judge Lubet said that Detective Chris Becton of the Orlando Police Department answered evasively when Captain Nowak asked about a lawyer and that he had not read her Miranda rights before he started questioning her.

“Detective Becton failed to answer defendant’s question regarding whether she needed an attorney in a truthful and straightforward manner,” the judge wrote. “There was a concerted effort to minimize and downplay the significance of the Miranda rights by referring to these constitutional rights as mere ‘formalities.’”

Judge Lubet said Detective Becton wrongly made “direct and implied promises of benefit,” promising to talk to prosecutors on her behalf if Captain Nowak cooperated. “He made threats and used coercive psychological techniques,” the judge wrote.

Judge Marc Lubet ruled police violated Nowak's constitutional rights by the way they interrogated her on Feb. 5 and searched her car

 In the hearings, Becton [an Orlando detective] said Nowak consented to talk to him and allow her car to be searched but acknowledged her consent was either inaudible on the tape recording or amounted to sounds like "mmhmm."

Nowak said she had requested a lawyer but was given the impression her car would be searched whether she consented or not.

In his order, Lubet said only about half of Nowak's interrogation was recorded by Becton and many of Nowak's answers on the tape were inaudible.

Lubet cited other grounds for suppressing the evidence, including Nowak's physical and emotional state, the length of her nine-hour detention and six-hour interrogation and promises and threats made to Nowak by Becton.

He also said Nowak gave no written waiver of her rights and no written permission to search her car.

[Nowak's attorney Donald Lykkebak] argued that Orlando police took advantage of Nowak, who was sleep- and food-deprived. Becton confused her, Lykkebak said, when he wouldn't clarify what he meant by certain statements, such as that she could face a carjacking charge. Prosecutors disagreed, saying Nowak was trying to portray herself as a confused woman but understood what she was doing. They also argued that police would have discovered Nowak's car even without her help.

Lubet wrote in his decision that he took into account Nowak's emotional and physical condition at the time of her arrest, the promises of help police made to Nowak in exchange for her comments, and their failure to clearly inform her of her constitutional rights and protections. "It is incumbent upon this court that every citizen, whether a prince or a pauper, be treated equally," he wrote. "Unfortunately in this case those protections were not as thoroughly followed as the law demands."

In a career of over 30 years as a documentary filmmaker, Ofra Bikel's work has freed more innocent prisoners than many professionals in the criminal justice system. Powerful, persuasive and relentless, her documentaries reveal hard truths about an American justice system that is at times vulnerable to ambition, racism, inertia, pride, haste, hysteria, corruption and a host of other human frailties.

. . .

Thirteen men and women walk the streets today because Ofra Bikel wouldn't let the public forget about them. "People pay attention to death row prisoners when they try to make a case for their innocence because the stakes are life or death. If you are imprisoned with a sentence like 15-to-life then it is easier for the criminal justice system to turn the page and write you off," says Bikel. In eye-opening documentaries such as Snitch, The Case for Innocence, and The Plea, Bikel has reported on what really happens when the wheels of justice break down in America. Her journalism has explored how the criminal justice system relies on aggressive plea bargaining to secure convictions and avoid the process of jury trials, how eyewitness testimony can turn out to be terribly wrong, and how judges and prosecutors sometimes resist acknowledging mistakes even in the face of irrefutable DNA evidence.

The question of whether this is news or "too personal" is very simple for me. The family said they wanted to bring awareness to the reality of Alzheimer’s, that they are not alone. From the moment the camera rolled, that was our objective.

Accident Victims Face
Grab for Legal Winnings

Wal-Mart Paid Bills
For Mrs. Shank, Then
Sued for Money Back

Lisa McCalmont, a consultant to the Death Penalty Clinic at the University of California at Berkeley law school who recently committed suicide, said the idea that an inmate gently dies during a lethal injection procedure may be a false one. She added, "I don't think everybody knows that two of the drugs are capable of causing excruciating pain." (emphasis added)

In his decision, Judge Chester J. Straub wrote that federal copyright law allows claims for damages only by writers who have registered their work with the United States Copyright Office. The vast majority of freelancers did not register, so he said the courts had no jurisdiction over their disputes, and the case should not have been approved as a class-action suit.

The media have mostly glossed over ConnectU Inc. v. Facebook Inc., now unfolding in a Boston courthouse. Most articles depict the case as either a cash grab or a blip on Facebook’s march to global domination. But interviews with people familiar with the lawsuit, and a close examination of court records, suggest that, at the least, the case raises troubling questions about the ethics of this new billionaire.