Killers come to life in chilling Alberta tale

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This article was published 09/08/2009 (6233 days ago), so information in it may no longer be current.

Runaway Devil

How Forbidden Love Drove a 12-Year-Old

to Murder Her Family

By Robert Remington and Sherri Zickefoose

McClelland & Stewart, 259 pages, $30

 

The strength of true-crime books, including the four by this newspaper’s indefatigable Mike McIntyre, is their devotion to detail.

Readers already know at least the outlines of the crimes that these books examine. In most cases the perpetrators have been caught and convicted and are being punished.

The authors and publishers are betting on a lingering public interest, usually in the who and why of the cases rather than the what, when and where.

In spite of severe legal restrictions, Runaway Devil effectively details the who of a shocking Canadian triple murder.

As for the why: Booze, drugs, parental neglect and extreme stupidity are clear contributing factors, as they are in many crimes.

But the Canadian justice system is not equipped to answer that question more satisfactorily, so it’s unfair to ask two Alberta journalists to do so.

Runaway Devil, like McIntyre’s and other books in the true-crime genre, works best where it brings to life the characters — the victims, the criminals and the supporting cast. This book does a better job than many in the genre.

The facts in the case are appalling. In April 2006 a 12-year-old girl and her 23-year-old boyfriend slaughtered the girls’ parents and eight-year-old brother in Medicine Hat. The authorities called it "a major bloodletting event."

Instant publicity focused on the clearly inappropriate romance and on lurid rumours about devil worship and werewolf fantasies.

Testimony at the killers’ trials supported many of the rumours and uncovered their extensive but illiterate online correspondence.

The girl called herself Runaway Devil. The boyfriend was Souleater. They claimed to idolize the young mass murderers in the movie Natural Born Killers.

Juries convicted them both on three counts of first-degree murder.

The boyfriend, Jeremy Steinke, is serving the maximum penalty of life in prison with no possibility of parole for 25 years. The girl, the youngest person convicted in Canada of multiple homicides, received the much more lenient jail term that the law provides for children. She could be released from custody temporarily under escort at any time.

The authors call her JR, because of the legal prohibition on identifying young offenders. This also keeps the victims’ family name a secret.

But JR’s name and photo are readily available online, though contemporary news accounts and police press releases, and on many websites dealing with crime, vampires and Goth lifestyle.

The book notes this unfairness. But the authors could argue more vigorously against the hypocrisy of a law that is enforced only against traditional means of expression such as print and broadcast, and ignores extremely popular online media.

Technology has outrun the law. In this respect Dickens was right; the law is an ass.

Readers can engage in silent protest — and make the book come alive — by looking up the girl’s real name and using it every time the book mentions JR.

Among the memorable details in Runaway Devil:

"ö Classmates and even teachers called Jeremy "Stinky" instead of Steinke.

"ö "Other people live in my head with me," JR wrote in her online profile.

"ö Jeremy’s terminally ill mother "bought three discount department store dress shirts for her son to wear during his trial — two blue, one white."

Particularly fascinating are details of police interrogation techniques, quoted from a law-enforcement textbook.

And here is one detail to take away: Among Steinke’s fans is a persistent girl who says they plan a jailhouse wedding when she turns 18 this year.

Let’s hope that such an unholy union does not spawn another true-crime book.

 

Duncan McMonagle teaches journalism

at Red River College.