Did Prosecutors Railroad Genna Gamble’s Stepfather?
(“Picture This,” Forensic Files)
Most Forensic Files cases offer more than enough evidence to make viewers relieved the perpetrator ended up behind razor wire.
Douglas Mouser’s conviction for the murder of his stepdaughter, on the other hand, leaves doubts.
Authorities seemed to mold evidence to fit their own theory about how high school sophomore Genna Gamble ended up lifeless in a ditch not far from her home in Modesto, California.
Reprimanded and warned. For this week, I looked into Mouser’s whereabouts today and whether he has snagged the support of any innocence advocates.
So let’s get going on the recap of “Picture This” along with additional information from internet research.
On the morning of Oct. 14, 1995, an aerobics instructor named Kathy Mouser reminded her 14-year-old daughter, Genna, that she was grounded for the weekend and forbidden to use the phone.
Thrown away. Then, Kathy left for the gym to teach a class. When she returned at 1 p.m., no one was home.
Kathy would never see her daughter alive again.
Police located the Beyer High School student’s unclothed body in a lonely area next to a walnut orchard 20 miles from the Mousers’ house. She had been strangled via ligature.
Genna had also sustained blunt force injuries, but had not been sexually assaulted.
Her feet had no dirt on them, suggesting the assailant had killed her elsewhere, than transported her body to the disposal site.
Suspect character. Phone records revealed that Genna had defied her parents and made several calls that day. Her friends didn’t remember Genna bringing up anything beyond the usual chitchat.
But one said that Genna suddenly hung up without saying goodbye.
Her pals also mentioned that there was a sketchy character, a guy of around 18 or 19, in Genna’s life and he liked to prey upon younger girls, according to defense attorney Richard Herman, who appeared on Forensic Files.
Security malfunction. But he had an alibi, so investigators turned to another male close to Genna: her stepfather, who had raised her since age 2.
Douglas Scott Mouser, who worked at federal research facility Lawrence Livermore National Laboratory, seemed to have an alibi at first. He said he was at work — he had gone into the office for a few hours on Saturday — at the time of Genna’s disappearance.
In an odd coincidence, the security cameras at his office weren’t working that day and neither were the ones at the Jack in the Box where Mouser said he bought lunch.
A guard at Lawrence Livermore didn’t recall seeing Mouser that day.
Investigators had their suspect.
Bring on the junk science. With no forensic evidence in the house, they concentrated on Mouser’s car and soon connected it to the murder.
The police brought in Gary Robertson, a Canadian specialist in photogrammetry, the practice of using mathematical calculations to uncover information about a picture.
Robertson theorized that postmortem indentations found on Gemma’s thigh matched the impressions a seatbelt and car rug in Douglas Mouser’s vehicle would leave — if her body lay in a certain position.
Story concocted. That part makes no sense to me. Couldn’t they arrange the seatbelts and rug and a test model in any car to line up with virtually any impressions?
But that didn’t stop prosecutors from creating their own narrative.
Perhaps, Mouser become enraged when he witnessed Genna flouting his authority by using the phone, they thought.
She was quite the handful.
Impossible years. Deputy attorney general Birgit Fladager mentioned that Genna had seen a counselor for oppositional defiant disorder.
According to the Mayo Clinic website, the syndrome, known as ODD, can cause frequent loss of temper, anger, resentment, argumentativeness toward authority figures, vindictive behavior, and deliberate attempts to annoy others.
In other words, Genna acted like a teenager.
Police, spurred by the conjecture of FBI-trained profiler Michael J. Prodan, maintained that Mouser struck his stepdaughter in anger during an argument, and then panicked because a child abuse charge could threaten his job.
Telltale technology. So, he strangled her, disrobed her to eliminate forensic evidence, and threw her body in the ditch off Tim Bell Road outside of Waterford, they asserted.
It was all speculation. The only solid evidence the state had against Mouser was that his employer disputed his claim that he logged onto his computer around the time of the homicide.
Mouser was charged with first-degree murder in August 1997. Superior Court Judge Hurl W. Johnson later reduced Doug’s bail from $1 million to $500,000.
Plant physiology lesson. Birgit Fladager and fellow Stanislaus County assistant district attorney Joseph “Rick” Distaso served as prosecutors during the three-month trial.
The duo didn’t have DNA or blood splatter or ballistics to help them, so they hawked their dubious forensics — the photogrammetry plus some forensic botany. A vegetation expert determined that pieces of yellow star thistle found on the underside of Mouser’s car were in the same life stage as star thistle found at the dump site.
Next, came the circumstantial evidence.
Anger and flak. Although Forensic Files didn’t mention it, the prosecution obtained a tape of a suspicious conversation between Kathy Mouser and her son, Gerren Gamble, 18.
When Gerren asked Kathy whether Doug Mouser had killed his sister, Kathy answered, “You know how Genna was.”
And there was also the matter of Mouser allegedly telling neighbors that he and Genna argued about chores — evidence of flaring tempers that could have boiled over — the day she disappeared, according to court papers.
Sneaked out? To me, the strongest evidence against Mouser was the statement from her friend that Genna hung up without saying goodbye. If an unknown assailant entered Genna’s room, she would have screamed or asked for help. If one of her guy friends stopped by, she would have had a chance to say goodbye to her gal pal on the phone. Only a surprise drop-in by a parent would spur her to instantly hit the receiver.
Mouser’s lawyer put together a different narrative.
Richard Herman theorized that after Doug Mouser left for work, Genna slipped out of the house and was killed by an unknown assailant or an unsavory acquaintance.
Profiler assailed. Genna’s brother sold drugs out of the house and Genna had socialized with at least one sex offender, according to the book Criminal Profiling: An Introduction to Behavioral Evidence Analysis by Brent E. Turvey.
The tome also suggests that criminal profiler Michael J. Prodan examined only a few of the available crime scene photos, never actually visited the site, and didn’t know about the alleged drug activity going on in and around the Mouser house.
During the trial, the jury members traveled to the house and the dump site to see them with their own eyes.
Outcome a surprise. It was all a lot to digest.
They deliberated for six days before convicting Mouser of second-degree murder in December 1999. He received a sentence of 15 years to life.
Fladager believed the lack of forensic evidence actually made the case stronger. “It’s hard to attack circumstantial evidence,” she said.
The Contra Costa Times would later call it a “stunning victory” for the prosecutors.
‘Intent to kill.’ Richard Herman, meanwhile, said the case was the biggest failure of his life. “This shakes my whole foundation of my practicing of criminal law,” Herman said. “This is a tragedy for the family and a tragedy for justice.”
His client hasn’t had much post-conviction luck.
The California Supreme Court declined to review Mouser’s 2004 appeal. A subsequent court action affirmed the attorney general’s opinion that “the evidence strongly suggests that defendant possessed an intent to kill.”
Declined again and again. In 2011, Genna’s biological dad, Tom, and his wife, Carole Gamble, appeared at a parole hearing to encourage the board to keep Mouser incarcerated.
Despite Mouser’s status as a “model prisoner,” the board turned down his bid for freedom in 2011.
He was refused again after a 2014 parole hearing where Birgit Fladager argued that Mouser had shown no remorse and refused to admit his crime or provide details about it.
Of course, that could mean he didn’t really do it.
A 2018 parole hearing was postponed, but the board met and heard a victim impact statement from Tom Gamble.
So, is anybody in Douglas Mouser’s corner?
Believers exist. The Innocence Project has not taken up his case, but his wife — Genna’s biological mother — reportedly believes in his innocence and at one point moved to be closer to his prison.
And Douglas Mouser has defenders in the court of public opinion. Two recent reader comments from the Stanislaus County District Attorney’s Facebook page:
“I knew Doug Mouser back then and I will never believe that he did this. All evidence was circumstantial at best. He was and I believe still is a good man wrongfully convicted. To continue to deny him parole is cruel…. [Genna] had a questionable boyfriend that was never questioned.” — Polly Wallis
“With no evidence the jury were convinced on the theatrics of the prosecutors. This is a seriously unsafe conviction with probably an innocent man in jail and a killer possibly still free.” — Graham Bevan
Sensational trial. Today, Douglas Scott Mouser, 59, also known as #P76180, resides in Valley State Prison, a medium-security facility in Chowchilla, California.
Meanwhile, the lawyers responsible for putting him there have enjoyed upward career trajectories.
In a sensational trial watched around the world, Birgit Fladager and Rick Distaso successfully prosecuted Scott Peterson — for murdering his wife, Laci, when she was eight months pregnant— despite that they had scant forensic evidence and were up against celebrity lawyer Mark Geragos.
Everybody loves Birgit. The earnest, mild-mannered Fladager later won her bid for Stanislaus County District Attorney.
She has received a lot of public approval. “I found Birgit to be a prosecutor’s prosecutor – gutsy, savvy, knowledgeable, competent, tough and ethical,” wrote her former colleague Thomas Fontan in the Modesto Bee.
Even her old foe Richard Herman praised her “believability” as a prosecutor.
Rick Distaso has also moved up in the world, becoming a superior court judge.
That’s all for this post. Until next time, cheers. — RR
Watch the Forensic Files episode on YouTube