The book began as a record of Walsh's transformation from victim to crusader for a constitutional amendment on victim's rights. But as his co-author, PEOPLE senior writer Susan Schindehette, explored the documents on Adam's death, details emerged of a potential bungle by the Hollywood, Florida, police. To the surprise of Walsh, a loud champion of police work generally, the revelations were found in a 10,000-page case file that a judge had released to the media in 1996 against the wishes of the family. Walsh had feared it would hurt the investigation by publicizing information known only to the killer. The media found little worth writing about. But Walsh did.
He insists that the preponderance of evidence points to a drifter named Ottis Elwood Toole as his son's murderer. In one confession, Toole said he decapitated Adam with a machete and placed the head on the floor of his white Cadillac, which he then drove to a secluded spot off the Florida turnpike. He threw the head off a small bridge. Walsh asserts he even took police investigators to the location. Toole, however, stopped cooperating when, Walsh writes, the police became verbally abusive; he recanted. It might have been possible to run DNA tests to determine whether the blood in Toole's Cadillac was Adam's. But the carpet samples have disappeared. Police also mistakenly sold the car to a junkyard. And, while Toole was the prime suspect, Walsh says the police stubbornly focused attention on James Campbell, a family friend who had been involved in an affair with Reve. In 1988, Toole sent Walsh a letter from prison demanding $5,000 to talk about the location of Adam's body. Walsh immediately gave the letter to police. He has since discovered, he writes in Tears, that it was never forwarded to the district attorney.
Hollywood police chief Rick Stone, who says he has skimmed Walsh's book, maintains that his department never had the carpet samples to begin with because the car was impounded by another law-enforcement agency. Stone says there is no evidence to prove "beyond a reasonable doubt" that Toole murdered Adam. Both Toole and his close friend, convicted mass murderer Henry Lee Lucas, were notorious, he says, for confessing to crimes they didn't commit.
Walsh had held out hope that Toole, suffering from cirrhosis and facing five life sentences for other crimes, would make a deathbed confession. He may have. Walsh has since learned from an ex-prison official that Toole had spoken of Adam's murder to a nurse before he died in September 1996. But confidentiality rules prevent the nurse from confirming the allegation. Toole's niece told a detective her uncle confided that he had killed Adam, and felt bad about it. That is little consolation for John Walsh. Hearsay is not closure.