Knoller, who faces manslaughter and second-degree murder charges, wept as her attorney told the jury that she “risked her life” in an attempt to save Whipple from the dog, a 150-pound male Presa Canario named Bane. At times, defense attorney Nedra Ruiz burst into tears herself, before falling to the floor in front of the jury in order to pantomime what she described as Knoller’s desperate attempts to pull the “berserk beast” off of Whipple.
The rambling and tearful three-hour opening defense statement was the latest bizarre twist in a story that has already produced more than its fair share of them. Noel and Knoller, both lawyers, provoked outrage after they suggested that Whipple had somehow provoked the deadly attack–perhaps because her scent excited Bane and a smaller female, Hera. Then Knoller and Noel claimed that they were only taking care of the dogs for a California prison inmate whom, it was later revealed, they had legally adopted. Prosecutors have hinted that the relationship was far from filial–and that the dogs played some role in a love triangle involving the couple and their 39-year-old “son,” Paul Schneider, a convicted murderer who is a leader of the Aryan Brotherhood prison gang. Futhermore, they charge, Knoller and Noel were operatives in a guard-dog breeding ring that Schneider ran from his prison cell. The couple has denied all of the charges.
But Schneider, who is serving life without parole, won’t be called to testify: in a letter to prosecutors, he threatened to disrupt the courtroom if forced to appear. At least one of the witnesses in the case is in federal protective custody, after receiving threats from the Aryan Brotherhood.
The trial was moved to Los Angeles because of extensive publicity in the Bay Area–and the judge has forbidden any mention of the more sensational allegations against the couple, including bestiality–but there will still be no shortage of disturbing evidence for the jury to consider. Before the defense attorney started crawling on the courtroom floor–visibly startling the judge–jurors had already seen autopsy photos of Whipple showing the horrific injuries the dogs inflicted on her throat and face. In the courtroom, Whipple’s mother and friends sobbed as prosecutor James Hammer described Whipple’s final moments, suffocating and bleeding to death, as she attempted to crawl toward her apartment door. As the prosecutor spoke, Whipple’s domestic partner, Sharon Smith, visibly upset, left the courtroom.
The sensational backdrop has obscured the main legal question at stake in the case: can a dog’s owner or guardian be held criminally liable for an animal’s actions? (Because Noel was not home when the attack occurred, he faces a lesser charge of involuntary manslaughter and well as possession a mischievous dog.) Prosecutors must prove “implied malice”–that Noel and Knoller knew that their dogs were dangerous and did nothing to minimize the danger. This “loaded gun” argument is at the heart of the prosecution’s case. Before the fatal attack, prosecutors charge, Noel and Knoller had been warned repeatedly about the dangerous nature of their dogs. On Wednesday, a veterinarian who treated the dogs before they were adopted by the couple testified that he sent a letter to Knoller warning that “these animals would be a liability in any household.”
In the opening phase of the trial, prosecutors plan to present nearly 30 witnesses who say that they, or their dogs, were either bitten or threatened by Bane and Hera in the months before Whipple was killed. “Diane Whipple was not the first victim of those dogs,” said Deputy District Attorney James Hammer. “She was the last in a line.” Shortly after the attack, Bane was destroyed. Hera was kept as evidence but was put down before the trial began.
The defense strategy is far from clear. Defense attorneys have promised their own parade of witnesses, who, they say, encountered and adored the dogs as they accompanied Noel and Knoller on walks in their San Fransisco neighborhood of Pacific Heights. But so far, the defendants have been their own worst enemies. In an interview with NEWSWEEK earlier this year, Noel suggested that Whipple may have been “having her period,” causing Bane to charge at her. Knoller told a grand jury that Bane approached Whipple as though she were “a bitch in heat.” In letters seized from Schneider’s jail cell, Noel regales Schneider and his cellmate with stories about the dogs (he calls them “canine security modules”) intimidating passers-by. In one letter, Noel makes a reference to Whipple, a national collegiate lacross champion, calling her a “timorous mousy blonde” who “[almost] has a coronary” when she encounters the dogs in the elevator. In the same letter, Noel thanks Schneider for “the thoughts expressed about …how comfortable you would feel about Marjorie and I inhabiting your body and mind.”
All but acknowledging the public relations damage his client had already done to himself, Noel’s attorney told jurors that “having an unconventional lifestyle has nothing to do with guilt or innocence.” Outside the courtroom, Knoller’s mother scolded reporters for failing to report “a single good thing” about her daughter. Marjorie, said her mother Harriet Knoller, was a “do-gooder” who had been unfairly maligned in the press as lacking remorse over Whipple’s death. “She cried and cried and cried,” Knoller’s mother told NEWSWEEK. “She’s sick about this. She said she tried so hard to save this girl’s life and that no good deed goes unpunished.”
If convicted on charges of second-degree murder, Knoller faces 15 years in prison; Noel could get four for involuntary manslaughter. Regardless of the verdict, more legal trouble awaits the couple when the criminal trial is over. Sharon Smith has announced she will file a civil suit for wrongful death against Knoller, Noel and the owner of the San Francisco apartment building where they all once lived. In the year since Whipple’s death, Smith has become an outspoken advocate for the rights of same-sex couples. Last year, she successfully lobbied the California State Assembly to approve a bill granting same-sex partners legal standing in lawsuits and other legal matters. Political activism, says Smith, has been the only way she can find meaning in Whipple’s death. “I think she would insist that I fight for her,” says Smith. “It helps me to feel her presence.”
If Knoller and Noel are found liable, Smith says she will donate any damages to a foundation established in Diane Whipple’s memory to support women’s lacrosse and cancer research.
