A new book about the savage 1990 murder of a UCLA college student, penned by famed retired LAPD homicide detective Rick Jackson, who now lives in Danville, ends with a coda that’s relevant to current debates about offering second chances to people convicted of serious crimes.
Jackson’s book, “Black Tunnel, White Magic” (Mulholland Books, March 4) argues that Gov. Gavin Newsom relied on limited, one-sided information when deciding to commute the life-without-parole sentence of one of two men convicted of murdering Ronald Baker. The friendly, straight-A astrophysics major, 21, was found fatally stabbed, his throat cut, in a train tunnel near the notorious former San Fernando Valley hang-out of the Manson family.
Baker’s surviving sister, Patty Elliott, learned via a June 2020 news report that Newsom had commuted the sentence of her brother’s killer, Duncan Martinez, allowing him to seek parole. Martinez had been one of Baker’s roommates and delivered a eulogy at his funeral but later confessed to participating in a scheme with another roommate to kidnap Baker for $100,000 ransom.
Elliott told this news organization it was distressing to not be able to weigh in on Newsom’s decision, which set in motion Martinez’s release from prison within a year. The other roommate, Nathan Blalock, remains in prison, which Jackson said highlights the arbitrary nature of the decision.
“The obvious shoddiness of the investigation into whether (Martinez) was a worthy clemency recipient offended me,” writes Jackson, who moved to Danville in 2013 after retiring from the LAPD. “Also inexcusable was the total lack of transparency around Newsom’s clemency decision-making process.”
Newsom is currently trying to improve the process, citing his upcoming decision on whether to give Erik and Lyle Menendez a chance to go free, according to the Los Angeles Times. Last month, he asked the Board of Parole Hearings to update its regulations to create “a transparent, fair, and risk-based process” for advising the governor on which California prisoners merit clemency.
Under the new regulations, the board would conduct “a risk assessment” that would focus on a prisoner’s risk to the public his or hers participation in rehabilitative programs, according to Newsom’s office. It also would give victims, survivors and prosecutors “the opportunity to meaningfully participate before a release decision is made.”
Jackson and Elliott can’t say whether these new regulations would have ensured their ability to participate in Newsom’s decision about Martinez. But they clearly believe the system didn’t work and that Newsom played a role in this breakdown. “Ultimately, I just wish Newsom had been more involved, or that his end of this process had been a little more hands-on,” said Elliott, whose father and mother, Gayle and Kay Baker, died in 2010 and 2013, respectively.
A spokesperson for Newsom’s office defended his actions in clemency decisions and said people released on parole have “very low” recidivism rates. The governor, who has so far granted more than 340 commutations and pardons, “takes very seriously the constitutional authority he has to grant second chances. With each application for clemency his office receives, there’s countless hours of professional investigatory work to determine whether a decision would be consistent with public safety and overall stakeholder impact.”
Jackson certainly knows something about the challenges of investigatory work. As a homicide detective for 28 years, he spent six trying to bring Baker’s killers to justice — against the backdrop of Rodney King, the L.A. riots and the trials of O.J. Simpson and the aforementioned Menendez brothers. Indeed, prosecutor Marcia Clark plays a prominent role in his book; she was set to handle Baker’s murder until she was diverted to Simpson’s “Trial of the Century.”
“Black Tunnel, White Magic,” co-authored with investigative journalist Matthew McGough, is Jackson’s first book, though he’s also well-known to mystery fans as the “Godfather of L.A. Crime Writers,” particularly for helping best-selling author Michael Connelly portray police work authentically in his Harry Bosch and “Lincoln Lawyer” novels. Indeed, Connelly has written the forward to Jackson’s book, and the two will headline a fundraiser in Danville on April 5 to benefit the Eugene O’Neill Foundation, a nonprofit that hosts annual productions of O’Neill’s works at Tao House.
Called out to investigate Baker’s murder on a Sunday evening, Jackson and his partner initially pursed the possibility that his death had something to do with his fascination with Wicca, a modern-day, nature-based pagan religion. But the actions of his roommates soon they gave them pause.
Jackson came to view Martinez, then 20, as a “pathological liar” and one of the most “manipulative” suspects he ever investigated. During multiple police contacts, Martinez presented himself as a friendly, blue-eyed former Marine. He had boasted to friends about going on secret missions, but Jackson learned he was “other-than-honorably” discharged from the Marine Reserves.
The details of Baker’s killing, as described by Martinez, are chilling and prompted Jackson to refer to him and his accomplice as “blue collar” versions of Leopold and Loeb, the 1920s teens who killed a boy to see if they could commit the perfect murder. But instead of being inspired by Nietzsche, Martinez said he and Blalock got their kidnapping idea from an episode of TV’s “Dragnet.” On the night of the summer solstice, they lured Baker to the train tunnel, a popular hang-out for teens and occultists, on the pretense of drinking beer and meeting some girls.
There, Blalock repeatedly stabbed Baker, according to Jackson’s book. Martinez didn’t just fail to intervene, he admitted that he urged Blalock to “finish him off” by cutting his throat. Later that night and on the following morning, Martinez disguised his voice and called Baker’s parents, demanding $100,000.
After Jackson and his partner began to focus on Martinez, he staged his own kidnapping and disappeared, using multiple aliases. He resurfaced two years later to tell police about Baker’s killing, after he was arrested for filing a false passport application in the name of a dead child. Jackson believes Martinez only cooperated so that he could minimize his role in the murder and evade consequences. “At every point, Mr. Martinez’s cooperation with police and prosecutors was entirely self-interested,” Jackson writes.
In Newsom’s June 26, 2020 statement announcing clemency, he said Martinez had maintained an “exemplary disciplinary record,” completed self-help programs, earned an associate’s degree and received commendations from the prison staff and the warden.
“Mr. Martinez participated in a serious crime that took the life of Mr. Baker,” Newsom’s statement said. “Since then, Mr. Martinez has dedicated himself to his rehabilitation and becoming a productive citizen.”
Jackson doesn’t doubt that Martinez was a model prisoner, but he and Elliott believe he befriended people in power to get clemency. They mostly question the contention that he expressed “sincere remorse” for killing Baker. Both said they never heard Martinez express remorse in the 30 years since Baker’s death – not until his parole hearing.
Jackson and Newsom’s office offer conflicting accounts on whether Los Angeles prosecutors were given the opportunity to “meaningfully participate” in the clemency decision. Newsom’s spokesperson said the L.A. District Attorney’s Office did not respond to a 2019 request for input and help in contacting survivors. But Jackson’s book shares a 2018 letter from the D.A’s office to then-Gov. Jerry Brown, saying it opposed clemency for Martinez.
Since Martinez’s release, he earned a Master of Fine Arts degree in TV and film, according to a website dedicated to his filmmaking aspirations, which also mentions he spent 27 years in prison. Martinez did not respond to an email request for comment.
Jackson said he doesn’t oppose second chances, including for people convicted of murder. He’s dealt with other suspects who expressed profound regret, or who were caught up in circumstances beyond their control. Jackson doesn’t see Martinez as one of those people and believes the governor should have demanded a more complete picture of him.
“The jurors heard from the defense attorney, the prosecution and witnesses in both cases and felt that Martinez and Blalock should spent the rest of their lives in prison,” Jackson said. “So to change that, you have to be really well versed in why versed in why you’re changing it.”