For a guy who has spent most of his 42 years engaged in mayhem, James Witkowski looked none the worse for wear as he ambled into the arraignment dock at Suffolk Superior Court to face a charge of first-degree murder for the gruesome death of Lena Bruce, back in July 1992.
Both Bruce and Witkowski were about the same age on that summer day nearly a quarter-century ago. But the trajectory of their lives could not have been more different.
Lena Bruce, 21, a native of Philadelphia, had just become the first African-American woman to graduate from Tufts University with a degree in electrical engineering. She was about to start a career with the international firm of Stone & Webster.
As for Witkowski, it took First Assistant District Attorney Patrick Haggan nearly five minutes to lay out the story of his useless life.
“His record dates back to 1988,” Haggan began. “There are at least eight defaults on his record, at least three violations of the terms and conditions of his probation.
“He has convictions on his record for larceny from a person, multiple counts of assault and battery, receiving stolen property, conviction for breaking and entering with the intent to commit a felony, receiving a stolen motor vehicle, receiving stolen property (second offense), a 1994 conviction for receiving stolen property, 1994 possession of a Class B substance with intent to distribute, also 1994 larceny of a motor vehicle (second offense).
“In 2014,” Haggan continued, “he was committed for a conviction of assault and battery, attempt to commit larceny.”
And to cap off his criminal career last year, Witkowski was convicted of passing phony money in Brockton.
A roommate, coming back after a weekend trip, discovered Lena’s body. She had been strangled with a phone cord and sexually assaulted. Police believe her killer entered the first-floor apartment on Mass. Ave. by a fire escape that lead to an open bedroom window.
Haggan described in detail how a young woman with so much potential — and a criminal with absolutely none — were allegedly linked together by the thread of DNA.
On the morning after Lena was murdered, I listened to her anguished father, Bob Stephens, who had driven six hours through the night from north Philadelphia, talk about the light of his life.
“Lena told me it was a nice apartment. She was so happy,” Stephens said, staring up at the window through his tears. “If I had seen it, she never would have stayed there.”
Bob Stephens was not at yesterday’s arraignment. Nor was Lena’s mother. They have passed on. Lena was represented by two members of her sorority, who, after listening to how her life had been so brutally snuffed out, politely declined to offer a comment.