State v. DNA profile
In these days of DNA, scientific and forensic evidence, it was bound to happen. As this very interesting (and lengthy) opinion from the California Supreme Court details, a “John Doe” warrant issued mere days before the statute of limitations was set to expire, identifying the defendant only by his DNA profile, satisfies the “particularity” requirement of the Fourth Amendment.
The DNA was taken from a crime scene (and victim) in 1994 and after the issuance of the warrant, a cold hit matched the profile to that of the defendant. Only problem is, the DNA taken from the defendant was in violation of then-existing CA law.
The defendant raised several challenges to the warrant: that since the DNA was taken in violation of the law, it was in violation of the 4th Amendment; that this triggered the exclusionary rule; and that the warrant was not specific enough because it was issued in the name of “John Doe”.
You can image the usual responses to such claims. The court relies on the abomination that is Virginia v. Moore to dispense with the first argument: that just because state law prohibits something, doesn’t mean it is a violation of the Fourth Amendment. The second is dealt with by regurgitating the very narrow reading of the exclusionary rule (and the third argument was just plain silly to begin with).
This shouldn’t be a problem anymore for most states, since the statute of limitations for all sex crimes is now one googol years (an actual number). But the case is a curious oddity nonetheless and it is my solemn sworn duty to bring this to your attention.
QED
John Doe was a black man.
He hung around the ‘hood.
Had no job for so damn long,
had forgotten that he could.
Never knew his father,
people who had said that was good.
His momma smoked her some crack
And sold her ass on Cedar Road.
John was twice sent away to prison,
for a total of fourteen years.
He came out a different man,
heart full of anger, eyes full of tears.
Judge told him he was worthless,
couldn’t follow white man’s rules.
Seems a lot of people need to walk a mile
in a man like John Doe’s shoes.
Cold stiff and still on a stainless table
With a gunshot to the chest.
“Hey Doc, ain’t the cause of death kinda obvious?”
People really never knew about him,
don’t really care and don’t wanna know.
On the tag they hung upon his left foot,
they wrote a name, it was “John Doe”.
(The verses to a song I wrote a couple of years back.)