Three weeks after receiving that response from prison authorities, Chris mailed copies of writs and contracts to two top Denver cops--as well as to Denver mayor Wellington Webb and two local news reporters. He'd drafted the documents himself. Most of them were court orders (the signature portion thoughtfully left blank so that a judge could approve them) permitting him to come to Denver and confess to unsolved murders. In a cover letter he attached to the legal packets, Chris wrote that he has "contemplated suicide numerous times for all the guilt I feel inside myself...the guilt of the murders I have committed and was never tried for. And for being less than a man to admit my guilt and except my due punishment."
But in one of the documents, which he titled "Motion for Proportionality Review to Inform the State of Colorado of Unsolved Multiple Murders," Rodriguez got down to the nitty gritty. "In exchange for any information linking to these unsolved multiple murders, I would like to strike a deal prior to any information given for my complete cooperation," he wrote.
Rodriguez explains that he'll confess only if he's allowed to transfer to an out-of-state prison. His snitch jacket here makes it too dangerous for him to stay, he says. "I can't do my time here," he says. "I know [that confessing] is a drastic move, a pretty desperate move. But it's the only move I've got left. All I want is to do my time. All I want is to get out of the state of Colorado. I've never asked to go to a medium- or minimum-security prison. It's not like I'm asking for twenty years off my sentence. It's not like I'm asking them to let me watch their sister."
Chris's missives to the authorities worked. Sort of. He was brought up from Canon City to Denver twelve days ago for yet another chat with his old foes at the district attorney's office and the police department. "But we refused to make him any promises," Silverman says, "and that pretty much ended things."
Police and prosecutors continue to cling to the hope that they'll be able to hang one or more of those unsolved murders on Chris without his help--and without a deal. "If we get enough evidence to convict Chris on the Olguine case," says Sergeant Kirk Hon, "he could end up getting off his life sentence and onto death row."
There's not much likelihood of that happening, especially eleven years after the fact, admits Hon. Even if it did, he adds, the Rodriguez brothers would probably just use it as an excuse for a new round of last-minute confessions. "Frank would then turn around and say he he did it just to protect Chris," suggests Hon. "They're working every angle they can to protect each other. Chris and Frank are always working the system."