By Marc Klaas

Prosecutor Greg Jacobs spent the entire day in court presenting his closing argument or summary of facts. Sweating profusely in the chilly courtroom he argued in a slow, deliberate and dispassionate manner under extreme pressure to tie the evidence together. The diligent litigator proved beyond a reasonable, no, the shadow of a doubt, that the killer had a plan and knew Polly's neighborhood. "Davis used a ruse and offered fake assurances to keep Polly and her girlfriends under control. He conned the girls into believing that the crime was robbery, not kidnapping and murder. Even children know not to resist a thief. Give him what he wants and maybe he will leave you alone." He did rob Gillian's nightgown and Polly's red tights. The Rough Rider condom found on Pythian Road proved the killer's sexual intent. "He then kidnapped Polly and killed her because she was a victim and witness to the sexual assault he committed upon her on the evening of October 1, 1993."

Courtroom props including photographs, charts and a dramatic life-size graphic of a plastic mannequin, representing Polly, drew audible gasps from the court. However, the most compelling argument for the prosecution sat fifteen feet from me at the defense table. Rarely looking up, Davis preferred to banter and joke with his court appointed attorneys. With eyes fixed on legal sized paper duplicates of the prosecutor's charts, the killer seemed uninvolved and unimpressed with the devastating summation.

Living alone in our home sixty-five miles north of San Jose, my wife Violet works forty hours a week in a real estate firm. Unable to attend most court sessions and not acclimated to the pace of the proceedings nor numbed to the constant onslaught of theory and evidence the closing argument consistently reduces her to tears. One can train and prepare for a fight with Mike Tyson, but that does not mean the blows to the head and solar plexus will hurt any less. Taking two days we could not afford to hear a summary of facts that she already knew may sound like a relatively simple task, but sometimes the truth is difficult, if not impossible to digest.

Violet loved Polly desperately and every point made by Greg Jacobs only reminded her again that Polly has been reduced to memories, a closet full of clothes, a series of fading photographs and plans and dreams never realized. Polly may sit at the right hand of God and be in a place where she can never be hurt again, but we cannot hold her in our arms and she is not able to testify to the horrors inflicted upon her that fatal night so long ago.

The trial may be winding down, but today's session proved one thing that will not be reflected in the jury's decision. For some of us, this crime will never end. There is no finality and there is no closure.