Criminal
lawyer Steven D. Benjamin craves a challenge, both inside
and outside the courtroom. In September Benjamin finished
a grueling 156-mile run between the Greek cities of
Athens and Sparta in a personal best time of 35 hours
and 19 minutes. A few months later, he and law partner
Betty Layne DesPortes helped free an innocent man, Jeffrey
David Cox, who had spent 11 years behind bars for a
murder he didn’t commit. “Doing what’s
next to impossible is what motivates me,” says
Benjamin, a partner with Benjamin & DesPortes in
Richmond.
Some
of his highest accolades come from the other side of
the courtroom. Richmond Commonwealth Attorney David
Hicks says Benjamin “takes his duties as a defense
attorney more as a calling than a profession.”
Hicks regards Benjamin as a formidable opponent as well
as a personal friend. “When I see Steve’s
name on a motion, I know I have to deal with it right
away,” he says. “I don’t think there
are [any prosecutors] out there who believe they can
wear Steve down.”
Watching
accused murderer Cox walk free after the charges against
him were dismissed was an emotional high point. Four
years before, when Benjamin and DesPortes took on the
case, “There was never any reason to dream he would
be released.” Benjamin himself was not even convinced
of Cox’s innocence — two witnesses testified
they saw Cox drag the murder victim from her apartment
— but he was sure there were adequate grounds to
challenge the conviction.
There
were two police sketches, never given to Cox’s
original defense attorney, that didn’t resemble
Cox or each other. Federal authorities, who had reopened
the case, found witnesses who pointed to another man
as the killer. But Virginia law stated that no new evidence
could be considered if presented 21 days after the trial,
making an exception for DNA evidence. “The dawning
horror was that every day he was facing the certainty
that he was going to spend the rest of his life in prison
for a crime he did not commit.” The attorneys fought
relentlessly, and finally the state agreed to vacate
the sentence. This year Cox received a $750,000 payment
from the General Assembly, and in September another
man, Stephen James Hood, was convicted of Cooper’s
murder and sentenced to 65 years in prison.
Benjamin
takes seriously his role as defender of the disenfranchised.
He’s criticized the state’s payment system
to court-appointed defense attorneys. The pay isn’t
enough to guarantee a vigorous defense, Benjamin has
argued.
To
prove his point, Benjamin once hired a private investigator
at his own expense and presented testimony at trial
that a murder defendant’s wife was actually the
killer. During the trial the charges against the defendant
were dropped and the wife was charged. Benjamin points
out that he could never have afforded the investigator
if he had to depend on the state’s reimbursement.
An innocent man would likely have gone to prison.
Indeed,
his motivation isn’t to line his pockets, he says,
but to be fair to the clients. The difference in legal
representation between rich and poor defendants should
not only bother our collective conscience, he says,
it should worry us. “If an innocent person accused
of a serious crime is wrongfully convicted, the guilty
person is still out there.”
Craig Cooley, another Richmond criminal defense attorney,
has known Benjamin for 20 years. “Personally and
professionally, he’s a good person. He tries to
do right for the folks who don’t have the clout
or the ability to defend themselves.”
Benjamin
says he doesn’t shy away from his duty to defend
the guilty by getting the best resolution he can. “This
is very hard and often discouraging work that we do.
I love each day for the challenge. You have to be able
to continue in the face of tremendous adversity.”
In that way, it’s not unlike the seven 100-mile-plus
races in which he’s run. When he’s training
for these races, he logs 100 miles per week, with a
42-mile run on Saturdays. If criminal defense is a test
of endurance, Benjamin is aiming for a strong finish.
