The DNA hit came back after eighteen years, and suddenly a 77-year-old woman’s death wasn’t a cold case anymore. It was linked to a man already sitting on death row. A man who had claimed he accidentally killed another woman. A man who had gotten away with murder for nearly two decades.
Rodrigo Hernandez was born in Texas in 1973, but he grew up in Michigan after being sent to live with his grandmother at age twelve. He came from a broken home, spoke no English, and struggled in school. Around age thirteen, he fell in with the wrong crowd and joined the Latin Kings gang in Grand Rapids. That’s when things went wrong for him.
“Rodrigo was a very kind person, never angry, very soft-spoken,” his sister once said. “No pattern of violent behavior. ”
But Hernandez had another side. He was a prolific criminal who racked up convictions at a young age.
In 1990, at just seventeen, he served six months in prison for burglary. He moved to San Antonio, Texas in 1992 while on probation. His crimes quickly escalated. By 1994, he had moved from theft to rape and murder.
Susan Fursturgeon was a 38-year-old single mother who worked for Frito-Lay, stocking shelves at various convenience stores. She was a proud mother to her 15-year-old son, Charles, who was her whole life. In the early hours of February 18, 1994, Susan was restocking vending machines at a local convenience store. Hernandez also worked in the area and had likely seen her before.
He watched her, followed her, waited for her to come out alone in the dark. “Somebody who will stake out a victim, stalk them, know their moves, and then attack them really speaks to the fact that he was trying his best to get what he wanted in the easiest way possible,” an investigator later said. Hernandez forced Susan into her own car. He raped her.
Then he strangled her to death. He dumped her body in a garbage dumpster outside a nearby church, where she was found the following afternoon. Police found DNA evidence—semen and fingerprints—on the seat of Susan’s car. But at the time, DNA databases were in their infancy.
There was no match. The case went cold. Hernandez continued his life of crime. In 1998, he beat a man almost to death with a bottle and was sent to prison for over three years.
When he was released in 2002, he had to provide a DNA sample as part of his release program. That sample was run through the national database and matched to the DNA found in Susan’s car eight years earlier. He was arrested. When presented with the evidence, Hernandez initially confessed.
He claimed he and Susan had a sexual relationship, but that he accidentally killed her and made poor choices afterward by disposing of her body. By the time the case went to court, he had changed his story. He claimed the confession was written by the investigator and he just signed it. But the DNA evidence was indisputable.
In 2004, Hernandez was convicted of first-degree murder and sentenced to death. It seemed justice had been served. But the cold case team didn’t know Hernandez held another dark secret. Seventeen years earlier, on September 8, 1991, in Grand Rapids, Michigan, the body of 77-year-old Muriel Stoepker was found in a parking garage.
She was beaten, shot three times in the head, and had been sexually assaulted. She had no clothes on. Muriel had a troubled life. After her boyfriend of fifteen years died in a tractor accident in 1950, she spiraled downward and refused help.
She started living on the streets with all her belongings in grocery bags. The public knew her as “Mary the bag lady. ”
That day, her beaten and naked body was stuffed inside a small dark alcove in the parking garage. Her trash bags were outside the alcove.
One of her tennis shoes was in a bus shelter across the street. The other was still on her foot. Police found a male DNA profile at the scene, but it was an unknown male. The case went unsolved for years.
At the time, an 18-year-old gang member didn’t fit the police’s suspect profile. Investigators focused on other drifters and street people. They were looking at completely the wrong type of person. Hernandez had gotten away with both murders until 2009, when DNA analysis technology improved.
Muriel’s DNA evidence was resubmitted and entered into the national database. It matched Rodrigo Hernandez. Michigan detectives traveled to Huntsville, Texas, where Hernandez sat on death row. They hoped he would explain what happened in Grand Rapids in 1991.
They brought a letter from the prosecuting attorney’s office stating he would not be charged criminally for anything he said during the interview. But Hernandez refused to talk about Muriel’s murder. He said he had appeals left in Texas and was afraid anything he said would be used against him. “He was actually a very pleasant person to speak with.
He was very polite,” Detective Erica Fannon recalled. “He seemed embarrassed by both of these crimes. ”
Hernandez even said his grandmother raised him better than that and that he was raised to respect women. The detectives left empty-handed.
More than three years later, in 2012, Hernandez’s execution date was set for January 26. With time running out, the only way to get the confession they needed was to call in the Texas Rangers. Texas Ranger Steve Jeter was given an hour to extract whatever information Hernandez was willing to give. “Originally we went in to visit with him around noontime.
He wasn’t ready to talk. I went back to visit with him at 5:00. I knew I only had an hour to visit with him before the execution process would start,” Jeter later said. “Because there wasn’t going to be a postponement.
”
At 5:26 p. m. , with less than an hour before execution, Hernandez finally opened up. “So I just wait,” Hernandez said.
“And something bad happened. ”
“Right,” Jeter said. “Did you hit her in the head? Did you strangle her?
How did she die? ”
“With my hands, man,” Hernandez said. “Your hands? Why were you doing that?
Was it just a fetish that you did or did she make you mad or what? ”
Hernandez cried. “He talked like you and I talked over supper,” Jeter later said. “It wasn’t a big deal to him.
This was just another day at the office for him. His voice didn’t go up. His voice didn’t go down. We maintained eye contact.
There was no emotion. We just carried on a conversation like two guys talking at a bar. ”
Hernandez also admitted to Muriel’s murder. He claimed it happened accidentally.
He said he had a pocket knife, and while he was forcing Muriel to perform a sexual act on him, the gun went off. But investigators didn’t believe his story. Muriel had been beaten and shot three times in the head. “That weapon was used to take Muriel down into that alcove and force her to perform sex on him,” one detective said.
“I don’t think it was a voluntary option on Mary’s part whatsoever. ”
Before the interview ended, Hernandez asked to speak to his family one last time. He told his father he loved him, told his family to keep their heads up and that he loved them. Then he said he was ready.
At 6:09 p. m. on January 26, 2012, Rodrigo Hernandez was executed by lethal injection. He was 38 years old.
With his death came closure for the families of his victims. Susan’s son, Charles, spoke after the execution. “Nearly 18 years ago, Susan Versteegen, a woman in the prime of her life, was killed at the hands of a stranger. A 15-year-old boy suddenly lost his mom, a mother and father lost their daughter, and a family lost a beloved sister.
Today, the man who took her life paid the ultimate price for his actions with his own life. Now, I pray for his soul. Although I support the death penalty, there is no joy in this for me, nor should there be for anyone listening. I’m now 33 years old with a wonderful wife and two young children.
Today’s execution doesn’t change the fact that my kids will never hear the sweet laugh or feel the tender embrace of their grandmother. ”
When Detective Sally Walter received the phone call that Hernandez had been executed, she felt some justice for Muriel and for Susan. She drove to Muriel’s family’s home and told them what had occurred. Although they had felt closure years ago, knowing she was at peace and not walking the streets, they were really appreciative to know they had received justice.
Although delayed. Somebody remembered the bag lady.
