Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SATURDAY, February 8, 1992 TAG: 9202080379
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: A-1 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: MONICA DAVEY STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: BEDFORD LENGTH: Medium
MOTHER'S DAY KILLER GUILTY
Jurors thought about it for little more than half an hour Friday before convicting Kenneth Stewart of capital murder, murder and firearms charges in connection with the deaths of his wife and baby.Deliberations were so brief, in fact, that the mound of about 100 exhibits in the case, including the baby's bloodstained playpen, looked as if it went untouched inside the jury room.
Apparently jurors didn't need to take another look at the evidence.
Tuesday the same Bedford County jury will decide if Stewart, 37, will die in the electric chair.
The jury, which sentenced Stewart to life in prison plus six years for the other convictions, will choose between life in prison or execution on the capital murder conviction.
In their final words to the jury Friday, prosecutor James Updike and defense attorney Steven Grant agreed on much about the case. Both lawyers said Stewart had shot to death his estranged wife, Cindy, and their 5-month-old baby, Jonathan, last Mother's Day at their Huddleston farmhouse.
But Grant said Stewart had not premeditated the killings and therefore the deaths amounted only to second-degree murder.
In order to establish that the crime had been planned, the prosecution had piled "inference upon inference upon inference," Grant said in his closing argument.
"The key question in this case is what happened after Kenny got there," Grant said. "And we don't know that."
Stewart did not testify during the trial, and his defense attorneys presented no other witnesses.
In early statements to authorities, though, Stewart said he remembered going to his wife's house and pleading with her to take him back, but he said he had no memory of the shootings.
"He remembers up to the argument and then we have a blank space," Grant said. "Something terrible happened after that argument. . . . There's no telling what happened to his mind at that point. Maybe he was on autopilot."
Updike, though, said Stewart's memory loss, if it really existed, had no bearing on the case. "We're not debating whether he remembers or not - because we don't care," Updike said in his final argument.
"What matters is what he did," Updike said, holding up photos of the bodies for the jury.
Based solely on their injuries, it was clear that Stewart had intended to kill his wife and baby, he said. They were both shot twice in the head at close range.
Jurors did not need to know what the sequence of events was inside the house during the murders in order to convict Stewart, Updike said.
But Updike offered them a scenario anyway.
When Stewart arrived at the farmhouse with a .25-caliber pistol tucked into his boot, he talked to his wife in the living room, Updike said. Evidence suggested that the two got into an argument - perhaps a physical fight - as their discussion went on, he said.
At some point, they went to an upstairs bedroom, where Stewart pulled the gun and "threw it up in her eyes," Updike said. He shot his wife once between the eyes and a second time closer to the top of her head.
Stewart went back downstairs, reached down into his son's playpen and shot the infant twice through the temple.
Jonathan Stewart was probably asleep, Updike said, lying on his side. Jonathan may have been sucking his thumb, he said.
"You can almost see him there," Updike said, looking down into the yellow playpen before the jurors.
For a man who said he had blacked out during the incident, Stewart proceeded methodically inside the house when the killings were over, Updike added.
Stewart carried his son's body upstairs and placed it in the arms of his mother, whose body he also moved. Stewart did that, Updike claimed, in order to "paint a picture" for his wife's parents, Ruth and Ed Schultz, to discover.
Stewart believed the Schultzes had contributed to the breakup of his marriage and wanted vengeance, Updike said.
"He did give them a Mother's Day," Updike said. "He gave them a picture they'd never forget."
Stewart also locked the family dogs in a screened porch, turned off an oven, turned on an answering machine and found a key to lock the front door as he left.
"He's taking some time in there," Updike said. "And whether he remembers it or not - who cares?"