By Marc Klaas

What kind of creature is this guy? How can he stand to sit there and listen to himself?

The most devastating testimony in the trial thus far is the black and white video that chronicled the initial interrogation of the killer, conducted on November 30, 1993. He strutted into the interrogation room calmly combing his hair, refusing to shake hands. His defiant bravado and self serving testimony reflected his lifestyle. The loud, surly voice and crude, fragmented phrasing was heavily laced with profanity.

The killer recalled his whereabouts on the evening of Polly's abduction. Belligerent and defensive, Davis lifts the sleeve of his sweatshirt to expose a tattooed wrist. He didn't want the Sheriff's deputies on Pythian Road to see his tattoos because "That's all I am."

He heard about Polly's abduction, but denied involvement. "I never kidnapped that little f****** broad. Get real. It's a sick f****** crime. Rape, whatever you want to call it. It's a coward's crime. It's the work of some sick f***."

The interrogator shot back, "You talked about rape and things like that. We never mentioned sexual assault."

"It's a callous crime," Davis said. "Rape and s*** like that. It's not my kind of crime. Look at my criminal history."

It's like a little boy denying that he stole the cookies out of the cookie jar hidden on top of the refrigerator. The only difference is Davis is not a little boy, and Polly was not a cookie.

The interrogator challenged Davis: "We think you took Polly Klaas. I've got reasons for telling you that. I think so because of things we found. We're comfortable that you did it. We want to know why?"

"You think I did it then book me. Let's get a lawyer and go for it. S*** and get off the pot and go for it."

"What we want to know is why?"

"I can't answer that question."

There is nothing that can prepare one for a murder trial. My family sits as the last few hours in Polly's life are dissected, analyzed, de-constructed, re-constructed, cross referenced and compartmentalized. The constant assault on our sensibilities by horrible revelations that defy the principles of civilization seem overwhelming much of the time. It is impossible to withstand or rise above the continual dehumanizing facts that are revealed in a constant, monotonous stream of revelation. There is no room for anything but the processing of nightmarish information. The killer laughs throughout the video tape and I want to shout, yet I must sit unflinching and stone faced for fear of causing a mistrial. Every day my family is drawn into the world of murder, mayhem, rape and depravation and there is no way out.