Pursuit of justice waits in some cases

Woman accused in fatal Lynn fire to go on trial - 10 years later

Over the past decade, like other prisoners at MCI-Framingham, Kathleen Hilton has coped with the routines of life behind bars - six counts a day by guards, calorie-loaded meals in crowded chow halls, confinement at the same time every night behind the thick door of a two-bunk cell.

But unlike most other prisoners, the 61-year-old grandmother has not been convicted of a crime.

While she faces substantial charges - she allegedly set a fire that destroyed a Lynn three-decker and killed five people - prosecutors and Hilton's lawyers have wrangled over her case - delaying it now nearly 10 years after her arrest. A trial scheduled for last week was delayed again until early next year.

"It's a shame that it has taken so long," said Michael F. Natola, Hilton's lawyer, who declined requests to interview her. "There's a tortured history of this case."

Judges, legal scholars, and lawyers who practice criminal law said they could not recall a similar case in the state of someone found competent to stand trial to have been imprisoned so long without one. Under Superior Court rules, murder cases in Massachusetts should not take longer than a year between arraignment and trial.

In fiscal 2008, more than 93 percent of all Superior Court criminal cases had been adjudicated within two years, according to the most recent data available from the state Superior Court Department.

Neither prison officials nor court officials could say whether Hilton is the longest-serving unconvicted inmate in state custody, but Joan Kenney, a spokeswoman for the Supreme Judicial Court, called such a delay very unusual.

Prosecutors declined to discuss why it has taken so long to try Hilton, who at the start of this year was one of 576 unconvicted of 11,364 inmates in Department of Correction custody.

"No constitutional rights have been violated, and if any further legal issues arise, we will address them in court," said Steve O'Connell, a spokesman for the Essex district attorney's office. "We decline to address them outside of court proceedings."

What is clear is that Hilton's case has been held up as a result of a long legal feud between prosecutors and her lawyer that has sparked two rulings from the Supreme Judicial Court and multiple decisions in Superior Court.

The dispute arose from statements Hilton made after she was arrested in February 1999 on charges of five counts of second-degree murder, arson, and causing injury to a firefighter. She was accused of setting fire to the house where her son's girlfriend and their two children lived; the three made it out but Heriberto Feliciano, his wife, Sonia Hernandez, their two daughters, Sonia and Maria, and a niece, Glorimar Santiago, were trapped and died on the third floor.

Hilton was arrested three days after the fire and allegedly told police that she had struck a match and dropped it on the wooden porch, which she said she had soaked with a flammable scented oil. After watching the house erupt in flames, she allegedly told police, she walked home.

A few days later, after her arraignment, Hilton allegedly told a court officer escorting her to a holding cell that "I hope he forgives me." When asked what she was referring to, Hilton responded: "I hope my son forgives me. I could have killed my grandchildren."

Natola has contended that Hilton, who has been diagnosed with mental retardation and various psychoses, made the statements involuntarily. She had been initially declared incompetent to stand trial, but after a few weeks of evaluations at Taunton State Hospital, psychiatrists found her competent, meaning she could understand the charges against her and assist in her defense.

Natola attributes her alleged statements to an effort to protect her son, Charles Loayza, who was in the middle of a custody fight with his girlfriend, Krystina Sutherland, and had threatened to burn down her house. He says Hilton fabricated her story because she believed her son, then 22 years old and a prime suspect, would go to prison. Police eliminated her son as a suspect after confirming his alibi.

Shortly after the arraignment, Natola filed motions to suppress the statements, which started the decade-long battle with prosecutors.

While he regrets the length of time Hilton has remained in prison without a trial, Natola said he had to balance her right to a speedy trial with her right to quash what he contends were improperly obtained statements. "It's a tough call," he said, "but unfortunately, in this case, the right to a speedy trial had to take a back seat to the more important right of having a fair trial."

Some have suggested other reasons for the delay.

Carol Steiker, a professor who specializes in criminal law and procedure at Harvard Law School, called the lengthy pretrial imprisonment extraordinarily rare.

"In my experience, I have never seen anything remotely close to this delay," she said. But she said there can be advantages for a defendant in delaying a trial. "If witnesses die, get sick, move, or evidence is lost or destroyed, it always helps the defendant," Steiker said. "They don't have the burden of proof."

After all the back and forth between the Superior Court and the Supreme Judicial Court, the litigation has had only limited success for Hilton.

In the end, prosecutors will be allowed to quote some of her statements, based on the last Supreme Judicial Court ruling in 2007. Jurors, for example, will learn about her alleged motive: By burning down the house, she told police, Sutherland would have nowhere to stay, and the children would have moved in with her son.

Neither Sutherland nor Loayza could be reached. Relatives of the Felicianos did not return messages.

Reached at his home in Lynn, Steven Zarba, Sutherland's uncle, said he and his family are looking forward to it all being over. But they cannot believe how long it has taken.

"It's kind of ridiculous," he said. "I mean, 10 years? If she's competent, she should have been to trial a long time ago. It would have brought some closure for my brother and his kids."

The trial, expected to take at least a month, is scheduled to begin Jan. 12 in Lawrence Superior Court.

David Abel can be reached at dabel@globe.com.