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Questions about police procedures in the case of two young boys charged with killing 11-year-old Ryan Harris are prompting renewed interest in why Chicago police–unlike dozens of other big-city police departments–don’t videotape suspects’ statements.

Since the boys’ arrest 12 days ago, critics have noted that no parents or lawyers were present when they were interrogated and have wondered how children of 7 and 8 could waive their rights– voluntarily, knowingly and intelligently–as the law requires.

Some observers, including psychologists and defense attorneys, have said children so young could have been intimidated into making self-incriminating statements or have done so to please the officers–a charge Chicago police have vehemently denied.

Such criticism could have been somewhat alleviated, experts say, if police had videotaped the boys’ statements.

But, despite a 1993 recommendation by the Chicago Police Board to start videotaping confessions in high-profile cases, the department has resisted.

Police spokesman Pat Camden didn’t rule out the possibility, but there seems to be no urgency to the matter. “It’s an issue that needs to be looked at both by the state’s attorney’s office and the Police Department,” he said. “More research needs to be done.”

Many criminologists, though, believe the research already is overwhelming.

“It’s universally recognized (in the academic community) that tape-recording interrogations benefits everyone–police, suspects, prosecutors, public defenders, judges and juries. It’s a win-win solution if ever there was one,” said Richard Leo, a criminology professor at the University of California, Irvine.

According to court testimony, Chicago police officers investigating the Harris case took notes of the two boys’ statements. But that record, unlike videotape, is not likely to reflect their mental state or demeanor. Were they fearful? Tearful? Did they appear intimidated? Did they volunteer information or only respond to questions?

Some police departments–including all those in Minnesota and Alaska–either audiotape or videotape the entire interrogation, which Leo contends is the only way to allay all claims of arm-twisting. Others turn on the camera just to recap a suspect’s final statement or confession–an arrangement that can at least capture the defendant’s demeanor and physical condition at the time of arrest.

Videotaping has served to immunize police against some allegations that confessions were coerced. A 1992 U.S. Justice Department survey of hundreds of police departments found charges of police misconduct declined after taping began.

More than 80 percent of the departments that used videotape said it helped in getting guilty pleas from defendants, and not a single department said it hindered them.

The study found that at least 2,400 sheriff’s and police departments around the country used audiotape or videotape to record some interrogations or confessions. Of the 91 largest police departments (those serving cities with populations of more than 250,000), 34 used videotaping for at least some suspects.

That number likely has risen in recent years, as other departments are converted. Philadelphia has just begun videotaping confessions in homicide cases.

But the debate in that city highlighted the arguments that typically precede the decision to videotape.

The task force that looked into videotaping decided–as police and prosecutors had wanted–to start taping only after the suspect has signed a confession.

But critics, especially some defense attorneys, say the camera should start running the moment a suspect enters the interrogation room.

Otherwise, it can’t capture the bag of police tricks–promises, threats, deceptions–that may have led up to the confession. Such tricks are mostly legal, but prosecutors fear they might not play well before a jury.

“There is no doubt in my mind that justice would be served in a more accurate way if those (boys’ statements) had been taped,” said Dorothe Ernest, referring to the Ryan Harris investigation. Ernest is the Hinsdale psychotherapist who is largely responsible for getting Philadelphia to start videotaping.

Ernest’s daughter, Kimberly, a 26-year-old paralegal, was killed in 1995 as she was jogging in Philadelphia’s Center City. Two men confessed, but they were acquitted because of jurors’ doubts about whether their statements had been coerced.

Ernest and many others believe the outcome would have been different had their confessions been videotaped.

“Videotape allows you to catch body movements, tone of voice– all those nonverbal cues you can’t put down on paper,” as well as indications of physical abuse, she said.

After the trial of her daughter’s accused killers last year, Ernest recalled, “Mayor (Edward) Rendell asked me what he could do to help. I said, `I’d like you to form a special task force, with top defense attorneys and police officers and prosecutors, to look into videotaping felony confessions.’ And he just picked up the phone.”

Philadelphia police have videotaped only a few confessions so far. But Inspector Jerry Kane, head of the police homicide unit, believes it will become a staple.

“I’m convinced video is the way to go,” he said. “The departments that are still resisting need to bite the bullet.”

In some jurisdictions, including New York and Houston, videotape is used sparingly–often only when a prosecutor requests it, and then only for the final confession. In Minnesota and Alaska, however, police are required by state law to tape all custodial interrogations.

“Whenever you’ve read somebody their rights, it should be taped,” said Joann Brandlen, spokeswoman for the Anchorage Police Department. Alaska police officers all carry portable audiotape recorders, she said; videotaping is done in police station interview rooms.

San Diego police, too, videotape everything from the moment the suspect is read his Miranda rights–even though they are not required by law to do so. For a relatively small cost, police there say, San Diego has drastically reduced the number of court battles over the admissibility of confessions.

Those who argue against taping claim it is too expensive to set up the equipment, too impractical to catalog and store mountains of videotape, too hard to overcome the natural resistance of police officers to any change in the way they operate. Some also contend videotaping inhibits suspects from talking freely.

And, where it’s used selectively, it can raise questions about confessions that were not taped.

Leo counters there is no evidence videotaping inhibits suspects and contends it actually saves money by encouraging plea bargains, shortening trials and eliminating the need for a second interrogator to take notes. “The truly professional departments aren’t afraid to show the world what they do,” he said.

Chicago Ald. Robert Shaw (9th) said he believes one reason no one acted on the 1993 recommendation to begin videotaping statements is the way some interrogations are conducted here.

“Many tactics used by police,” he said, “they did not want on camera.”

Ald. William Beavers (7th), a former police officer and longtime chairman of the City Council’s Police and Fire Committee, doesn’t remember any discussion of the recommendation. But he said it could be a “good idea.”

It would protect suspects from abusive police tactics, he reasoned, and it would also protect police officers from false allegations of misconduct.