Laura Fernandez's first job out of law school was a fellowship at Holland & Knight, a large Florida law firm, which allowed her to focus entirely on pro bono work appealing capital convictions.
There, Fernandez '02 J.D., who is now a senior fellow in residence at Yale Law School's Arthur Liman Center for Public Interest Law, worked closely with the attorney George Kendall, an expert on capital defense and, Fernandez said, "a terrific mentor."
Among the cases they worked on together was a post-conviction capital case in Florida concerning a man named Richard Cooper, who had been charged with taking part in the murder of three men during a botched robbery in 1982. He had been convicted and sentenced to death.
The law firm's research found that a witness put on the stand by prosecutors - a jailhouse informant named Paul Skalnik - had offered testimony in numerous trials for other inmates, including detailing confessions he claimed they had confided in him.
Fernandez began digging deeper into the cases involving Skalnik, looking for patterns.
In Cooper's case, while his guilt wasn't in question, the severity of his sentencing had been. Barely 19 at the time, he had a "young, sweet face," Fernandez said, which could have swayed the jury against the death penalty.
"Skalnik came into the court and testified that Cooper, who was being held in the same jail, told him that 'no jury would ever sentence him to the death chair … because he's 19 years old and because he's got that little baby face,'" she said. That pattern reoccurred across the cases she researched that involved Skalnik's testimony.
"In each case, if there was a major flaw in the prosecution's case, Skalnik was brought in to fix it," Fernandez said.
In 2014, following an appeal that argued that the jury should have heard evidence of the abuse Cooper endured as a child, he was resentenced to life in prison.
Fernandez's research into Skalnik's pattern of testimony is now the basis for a popular and widely reviewed book released in July, "Catch the Devil: A True Story of Murder, Deception, and Injustice on the Gulf Coast" (Alfred A. Knopf), written by investigative reporter Pamela Colloff.
In tracing the path of Skalnik, whom Colloff describes as "one of the most prolific, and most effective, jailhouse informants in American history," the author also examines the fairness of a criminal justice system that allows the use of testimony from witnesses who may be rewarded with their freedom for what they say.
The stakes are especially high in capital cases. According to a 2024 report from the National Registry of Exonerations, nearly 25% of recorded death row exonerations are in cases that relied on the help of a jailhouse informant.
In her author notes, Colloff says the book depended on the "extraordinary groundwork" laid by Fernandez. Without her, Colloff writes, "Skalnik's story would have remained buried." (The book recently won the Kirkus Prize for nonfiction.)
Fernandez appears in the book as part of the legal team seeking to overturn a death penalty sentence for James Dailey, a Vietnam War veteran struggling with alcoholism who was convicted in the murder of a 14-year-old girl in Florida. No physical or forensic evidence linked him to the crime. But during his trial, Skalnik testified that Dailey confessed the crime to him.
At Yale, where she is also a clinical lecturer in law and research scholar in law, Fernandez has worked with students on related research projects, including projects tied to the Dailey case, and enlisted another former Liman fellow, Cyd Oppenheimer '04 J.D., to work with her on the Skalnik research. (Dailey remains on death row.) Since coming to Yale in 2014, her research has focused on questions of prosecutorial power, ethics, and accountability.
Fernandez sat down with Yale News to talk about why juries are persuaded by jailhouse informants, why she believes the practice should be disallowed, and why a Connecticut law that helps shed light on the use of jailhouse informants is both good and bad. The conversation has been condensed and edited.
As your research showed, Paul Skalnik was involved in several cases as a jailhouse informant. Would you provide another example of how Paul Skalnik's testimony helped sway a jury?
Laura Fernandez: There's a case that Pam talks about in the book involving a man named Freddie Gaines. He was charged with first-degree murder after getting in a fight outside a bar. The evidence wasn't clear as to who started the fight and how it ended. One problem for the prosecution was that Gaines was 5 ft. 5 in. and 135 pounds- his nickname was "Shorty" Gaines. And since he was claiming self-defense, his relatively small stature was arguably a problem for the prosecution. Skalnik came in and, not only did he have this story of how Gaines had plotted the murder in advance, he also talked about how Gaines had been trying to "quit eating a little bit" in order to "slim down" to appear smaller, as if he had somehow shrunk by design before trial. It was completely absurd. And yet, it worked. [Gaines was eventually convicted of first-degree murder and sentenced to life.]
George Kendall used to say, "If Skalnik tells you it's sunny outside, you definitely bring an umbrella."
Why do juries find jailhouse informants credible?
Fernandez: Jurors are almost invariably overwhelmed when they walk into a courtroom. I mean, we like to believe that jurors know what they're doing and have everything figured out. But jurors are just regular people who are supposed to be at work and suddenly find themselves sitting in a courtroom. The reality is that when any witness gets put on by the state, the jury tends to believe they are credible. And the jailhouse witness isn't usually the first person to testify. The prosecution first puts on the officers who came to the scene of the crime. Then they put on a serious medical examiner who is a doctor and went to medical school, who testifies about the injuries and manner of death, and so on. This looks like a professional team. By the time the jailhouse informant testifies, he or she has a patina of credibility. Most people trust that something horrible has happened, and most people want to see justice done.
The use of jailhouse informants isn't illegal. But when does the use of such testimony cross over into prosecutorial misconduct?
Fernandez: I think the bigger question is, how is it possible that we allow this testimony at all? How can we possibly expect the truth from somebody who's locked up, who is utterly desperate, and so whatever kind of benefit they might get from testifying could be hugely valuable to them? When Skalnik was locked up in Florida, for example, he did not just receive extraordinary plea deals which meant serious charges were dropped or his sentences were vastly reduced. He got other perks too, which might seem minor to someone at liberty, but were significant to him. When he would go talk to prosecutors at their office, for example, he'd enjoy the air conditioning, when it might be 90 degrees in the prison, and have a fresh cup of coffee. And in jail, he would get all these extra privileges because he was in protective custody, like his own TV and newspapers.
Is there an active debate in the legal community about whether such testimony should be allowed?
Fernandez: I think it's one of those things that everyone sort of knows. A jailhouse informant would almost never be the star witness against anybody with any kind of power. So this kind of testimony is typically weaponized against the poorest and most powerless members of our society, who are often represented by the least zealous and least able counsel. These kinds of witnesses get used in the cases that are basically broken from the beginning. It's a problem hiding in plain sight.
Connecticut passed a law in 2019 that, upon a written request from a defendant in a criminal case, requires the prosecution to disclose whether they intend to use a jailhouse witness, and then to provide that person's criminal history, any cooperation agreement, and whether that person has testified in other cases. Defendants may also ask the court to hold a hearing to determine the witness's reliability. Is this a useful step?
Fernandez: Connecticut should be commended for attempting to add safeguards to the use of jailhouse informant testimony. But I do worry that trying to reform this practice will just end up legitimating and perpetuating something that should just be impermissible.
From my perspective, the decision to use a jailhouse informant signals that something is wrong with the state's case, or that something is missing. The informant provides the fix or fills in the gap. But is there ever a situation where we can feel confident that an incarcerated, incentivized witness is going to be reliable when someone's life or liberty hangs in the balance? My answer to that would certainly be no.
You are a senior fellow at Yale Law School's Liman Center. What drew you to the center, and how have you seen its work impact students?
Fernandez: The Liman Center has become one of the real treasures of Yale Law School, thanks to Judith Resnik's vision and determination. Through the Liman Center, students are exposed to ideas and speakers they would not otherwise encounter in law school. Just last week, for instance, Liman held a film screening of "Plantations and Prisons," a documentary about forced labor at Angola prison in Louisiana. It was a remarkable event. The Liman Center also makes it possible for students to secure fellowships to work at public interest organizations across the country. So many public interest organizations, and more importantly their clients, have benefited from these incredibly talented, motivated Liman fellows.
