Chapter 36: The Truth Gets Its Boots On - Martyr or Murderer: Jens Soering, the Media, and the Truth

A quote inaccurately attributed to Mark Twain reads: “A lie can travel halfway around the world before the truth can get its boots on.” Jonathan Swift said something similar in 1710: “Falsehood flies, and the Truth comes limping after it.” The truth finally caught up with Söring’s narrative in 2022, with fateful results for Söring’s innocence claims. Already in February 2022, the prominent German media critic Stefan Niggemeier released a major piece called “The Astounding Media Career of Convicted Double Murderer Jens Söring” on the German media-criticism website Übermedien, which he had founded.

In almost 8,000 words, Niggemeier traced the German media’s treatment of Jens Söring since he returned to Germany in 2019. Although Söring’s guilty verdict remained intact, the German media were so fascinated by his case that Söring was invited to tell his story with no criticism or fact-checking. As to the media’s claims that they were interested only in a human-interest angle, Niggemeier asked rhetorically: “Assuming you believed someone was a brutal double murderer, which necessarily entails that he has been lying about his actions and defaming innocent people for years, would you invite him to a bubbly talk show to talk about his nice new apartment and mental resilience?”

The answer, obviously, was yes. The results, Niggemeier observed, were bizarre and sometimes comical. During many of Söring’s appearances, hosts had to awkwardly interrupt Söring’s innocence narrative to remind the audience that their guest was a convicted killer. One such host, Jörg Pilawa, stammered: “I just always have to, because we have to be legally accurate here—we’re always talking now about innocence: You are now out on parole. So, we just have to say that. So, you know yourself about innocence, but legally the conviction is still there.” These clumsy interjections, Niggemeier noted, had no effect on other guests on these talk shows, who seemed captivated by Söring and convinced by his story.

Niggemeier, who had spoken to The Söring System podcast team for the piece, then revealed to his readers that Söring’s media offensive had been long in the planning. As Söring had told the German pop-philosopher Richard David Precht: “I knew it from the beginning: Since the media had put me in prison, then I have to work with the media to get out again.” In a 2017 circular, Söring had told the “Friends of Jens” that he was prepared to make his mark Germany: “I…have experience in the media: Ten books and dozens of media appearances”.

Söring most influential ally in Germany, Niggemeier noted, was Karin Steinberger. Noting her claim that her initial 2007 article had “gotten everything started”, Niggemeier picked a few interesting examples from Steinberger’s pieces, such as when Steinberger invited Söring to compare himself to Nelson Mandela, who had spent 27 years in prison. Söring replied that his fate was harsher: “[Mandela] went to prison when he was 44 years, as a complete man who had achieved something. The key thing is hope—he had it, I don’t.” Steinberger’s articles provided no proof of her claims of errors in Söring’s trial, and she also made basic mistakes, such as her claim Söring had always maintained his innocence.

Niggemeier then addressed the Söring System podcast, focusing in particular on Eva Beck’s descriptions of Söring’s contacts with journalists and his plans for his media campaign. At the end of the piece, Niggemeier notes that interest in the case seems never-ending, as shown by the fact that Netflix was planning yet another documentary and that Marcus Vetter, co-director of Killing for Love, had signed on to consult on a fictionalized version of the story, remarking: “A fictional series opens up new possibilities to shape the story.” Niggemeier concluded: “As if, in this horrible but endlessly fascinating case, the one thing that was still needed was for observers and participants to feel free to change the story.”

Niggemeier’s February 2022 piece was avital step in bringing German coverage of Söring’s story closer to balance. His piece was not primarily a complaint that the German media had endorsed Söring’s innocence claims, although he noted that Galileo had done just that, then been forced to issue a humiliating climb-down. The main point was a subtler one: The media had treated Söring’s claims as a side issue. But what else is journalism for, if not to verify or debunk controversial claims? Weren’t journalists interested in whether his conviction actually was wrongful? Ignoring this elephant in the room was simply a cop-out. Journalists were ignoring their duty to inform in the service of clicks and ratings. In May 2022, Übermedien published another essay, by Felix Jung, about Söring and similar cases of celebrity criminals entitled: “From Prison to the Red Carpet”.

As 2022 progressed, interest in Söring’s case dropped off. The podcast and Übermedien’s commentary had alerted German journalists that there were problems with Söring’s claims. Söring started a half-hearted media counteroffensive in the form of a YouTube channel. Broadcasting from his own apartment, he produced 20-to-30-minute videos about the key themes in his case, as he saw them: the bloody sockprint, Elizabeth’s testimony, the DNA evidence, the experts who supported him, and his prison experiences. One video, “Did I Have Wounds?” raised his 30-year-old challenge to Don Harrington’s trial testimony. Söring flourished his hands at the screens and invited viewers to check them for visible scars.

The videos became increasingly sharp in tone as Söring tried to reclaim the narrative. One of them bore the title: “The Broken and Corrupt U.S. Justice System.” His channel attracted about 5,000 subscribers, while each videos received between 9,000 and 13,000 views. However, their impact was limited. Söring had nothing new to say. Further, Team Söring had to spend more and more time deleting skeptical or negative comments. Söring eventually stopped releasing new videos. He also removed some of the existing ones, such as two videos in which he explained why he refused to request new DNA testing of the evidence in his case. Söring now received interview requests only from YouTubers, not major news outlets. Further, he could no longer avoid skeptical questions about his claims.

One Söring interview which went wrong was a July 2022 interview with Leeroy Matata, a German YouTuber with 2.47 million subscribers. Matata is a former wheelchair basketball star who suffered a bout of juvenile osteoporosis, but who is now regaining the ability to walk. Matata’s channel, called “Leeroy wants to know!”, follows a simple format: Invite someone who’s had an unusual experience, and let them tell their story: “I Spent 8 Years in a Thai Prison”; “I’m a Jehovah’s Witness”; “I’m a Porn Star”; “Jana (40) Hasn’t Had Sex”; “Pedophile Meets Abuse Victim”; “Ex-Nazi Meets Jewish Woman”.

The titles sound like trash TV, but Matata is not out for exploitation, and has a low-key charisma which puts his guests at ease. He is obviously driven by genuine curiosity about his interview subjects, and asks thoughtful, probing questions. Thanks to his huge subscriber base, his videos are now professionally made and supported by a team of researchers. Matata’s interview with Jens Söring was titled: “What is it like to be a Convicted Double-Murderer?”

Söring introduced himself as follows: “My name is Jens Söring. I am a convicted double-murderer, at least in the eyes of the law. But I am really innocent.” Söring recites his story. Matata interjects with polite, but pointed questions: Why did both you and Elizabeth flee the U.S.? Why won’t you directly say Elizabeth killed her parents? Why didn’t you just decide to tell the police nothing at all? If you only discussed the crime scene once with Elizabeth, how did you know so many details about the event? Why didn’t you ask for a lawyer during the London interrogations?

These are still the most probing questions Söring has ever been asked in public by anyone on any side of the Atlantic. And they weren’t asked by a journalist. Matata goes further. When Söring’s answer seems potentially misleading or incomplete, his research team inserts an onscreen fact-check. For instance, Söring claims he did ask for a lawyer during his London interrogations, but that appeals courts found his request wasn’t clear enough. As Söring says this, a notice flashes on-screen showing Söring’s written waiver of his right to see a lawyer, signed at 12:50 pm on 5 June 1986. When Söring says his confessions were the only evidence against him, the screen shows the following:

FURTHER PROOF:

• Söring’s visible wounds at the funeral after the murders

• Bloody sockprint

• Incriminating letters and diary entries from Jens and Elizabeth

• Testimony of Elizabeth Haysom

As I wrote in a favorable review on my blog, Matata, a former basketball player, had shown “a level of conscientiousness I’ve never seen before from any German journalist (or, for that matter, from 80% of American journos)”.

Söring’s interview with Matata has now been viewed 1.8 million times, and has attracted over 7,000 comments. Since Söring cannot remove the negative comments, we get a clearer picture of how his story comes across when he faces informed questioning. The answer: Not well. A clear majority of the comments register skepticism or outright rejection. References to the Söring System crop up constantly. To many commenters, Söring seemed manipulative, his story seemed rehearsed, and his answers are unconvincing. As of late 2023, the top comment is a question to Jens about how his family, especially his father, reacted to his imprisonment (2,300 likes). The second comment, with 1,000 likes, is: “He reels off the story as in every interview. Very clever—it prevents critical questions from even being asked.”

The interview with Leeroy Matata made a few things clear. First, it showed the broad impact of the Söring System podcast. Second, it showed what happened when an interview with Söring was not accompanied before, during, and after by advice and lobbying from attorneys and PR consultants. In February of 2020, the Spiegel reporters had asked Söring many of the same questions Matata did, and received the same unconvincing answers. However, they left all this on the cutting-room floor. During the Matata interview the audience saw Söring’s answers unfiltered. The result could hardly have been encouraging for Söring.

Söring was, however, not done trying to recruit German supporters. He chose targets for his “campaign for justice” by prominence and reputation. One was Siegfried Stang. Stang, a retired police commissioner from the German region of Mecklenburg who also holds a law degree. After turning to writing during his retirement, Stang produced a biography of Caravaggio and several crime novels. He became fascinated by Haysom murders and spent years researching the case. Stang began writing with no opinion on Söring’s guilt.

Stang quickly came across my work, and we exchanged friendly emails. Stang met Söring for a 7-hour conversation at a café in Hamburg on 29 November 2021. Stang, whom Söring wanted to recruit as a German-speaking proxy, had brought a laptop. During the conversation, Stang had to walk a tightrope: He wanted to confront Söring with problems in his narrative, but not alienate or antagonize him. Stang succeeded; the two parted on friendly terms.

Söring, however, could not have been pleased with the book Stang published in October 2022. The title was: “Smokescreens: The Haysom Murders and the Search for the Truth” The book is as long as the Wright report and boasts 1630 footnotes. Stang’s account is a careful year-by-year reconstruction of the case. Stang’s experience informs the book. As the title itself implies, Stang’s primary benchmark is: “Does this assertion, or piece of evidence, directly show that Jens Söring is guilty of murdering the Haysoms, or does show that someone else was?”

Most of Söring’s arguments, Stang concludes, do not pass the test. They involve side issues, or “smokescreens” (Nebelkerzen). As an experienced detective, Stang accords little significance to the discrepancies and errors in Söring’s confessions. The human senses are not cameras; mistakes and bias inevitably taint our memories. Detectives, lawyers, and psychologists are familiar with “rolling confessions” in which defendants, before finally acknowledging their guilt, implicate others, minimize their own role, take back former admissions, and throw up smokescreens. It happens over and over in interrogation rooms across the world.

In a 21 October 2021 interview on Deutschlandfunk Kultur, Stang declared that Söring’s confessions were a “99.99%” match for the conditions found at the crime scene. Had Söring been tried in a German court on the same evidence, Stang concludes, he would have been convicted. Stang elicits from Söring statements which bring more changes and contradictions to his story. First, to Stang’s “surprise”, Söring admitted confessing to the German jail inmate Mathias Schröder in 1986 in England. He tells Stang that he did so to establish a reputation as a tough guy behind bars.

Pressed on the holes in Tony Buchanan’s story, Stang reports that Söring “basically told me that back then, he had to seize on anything he could to try to get out of prison. That answer was enough for me.” This would certainly come as a surprise to anyone who followed the case from 2011 onward, when Söring insisted in his blogs and interviews that Buchanan was a crucial witness for his innocence. It might also surprise Karin Steinberger and Marcus Vetter, who had made Buchanan a centerpiece of Killing for Love.

By email, Stang pressed Söring on a critical part of the timeline of his case:

My question: Is there an explanation for the fact that between August 1, 1989 (decision of the English government [to authorize Söring’s extradition after Virginia promised not to impose death]) and the beginning of the trial you did not recant any of your confessions?

His answer: Of course! The explanation is quite simple: There is no such thing as “recanting a confession”. At least not in America. (I can’t imagine that there is such a thing in Germany either.) Even if there were, it would have no legal relevance at all. Because once you’ve confessed, everything that comes after ... is actually uninteresting. After the ECHR decision on July 7, 1989, I told my U.S. attorney as soon as I could that I was innocent. He wrote all that down. Of course, he did NOT tell the Bedford County police. Why would he? That would have given away the defense strategy early on. As a criminal defense attorney, he was interested in keeping the police and prosecution uncertain as long as possible as to what strategy he would pursue.

Söring stuck to his confessions even after Elizabeth was convicted 1987 and safe from prosecution. Söring claims he remained silent during this period because protesting his innocence would have jeopardized his appeal before the European Court of Human Rights. As we’ve seen in Chapter 18, this explanation beggars belief. Yet even if it were true, that cannot explain why Söring would continue to let the world think he was a murderer even after both obstacles to recanting his confession (Elizabeth and the ECHR) vanished in mid-1989.

Söring’s response as usual, contains categorical language (“of course”, “at all”) and capitalizations which make it seem he is protesting too much. It is also unconvincing. First, Söring claims he told his lawyers he was actually innocent only after the ECHR issued its judgment. If you accept Söring’s story that publicly claiming innocence would undermine the ECHR appeal, that still does not explain why Söring would not privately inform his lawyers that this was the case as soon as possible, rather than waiting for three years.

Further, after the ECHR ruled in July 1989, why would Söring and his lawyers permit the world to consider him a guilty, confessed criminal one day longer than necessary? Why would they let his jury be selected based on that assumption? Further, why would Söring’s lawyers pursue a conflicting strategy in March 1990, when Söring tried to get the confessions excluded because of Kenneth Beever’s purported threats? That was a desperate move, given the overwhelming evidence the confessions were voluntary. Söring could have simply allowed the confessions to come in and explained why he gave them, as he in fact did at trial.

As we’ve seen, Söring’s lawyers announced the strategy shift in the article “Soering May Shift Blame”, which appeared in the Roanoke Times on 1 April 1990, after Söring’s attempt to have his confessions excluded failed: “Soering’s attorneys have yet to spell out their strategy. They have, however, hinted at one possible theory they may try to argue: That Elizabeth Haysom—not Soering—killed her parents… At first look, the theory may seem hard for a jury to swallow.”

This article disproves two claims by Söring: First that his legal strategy since July 1989 was to claim innocence based on false confessions. In fact, the strategy from July 1989 to March 1990 was to try to exclude the confessions. Second, the article shows Söring’s lawyers were not afraid of divulging their (new) strategy before trial. Söring tells us that when he told his lawyers sometime in 1989 that he had confessed falsely, his lawyers “wrote all that down”. Söring can free his lawyers from their duty of confidentiality by signing a one-page form. He has never done so, and never will.

Söring’s convoluted explanations and excuses obscure the true course of events which criminal defense lawyers encounter every day: shifting and evolving defenses. In 1986 nobody, including Söring, suggested his confessions were false. Strategy One was to have Söring tried anywhere but Virginia, and put forward a diminished capacity/temporary insanity defense. Success was only partial: The death penalty was off the table, but Söring would still have to return to Virginia with no plea deal. During the March 1990 hearing, Söring implements Strategy Two: Beever’s threat forced Söring to confess. This strategy failed. Söring and his lawyers now needed another strategy, so Strategy Three was invented: I confessed to protect Elizabeth. There is no evidence Strategy Three was created prior to March 1990.

At this point, non-lawyers often ask me whether the defense attorneys’ conduct was ethical. They knew Söring had changed his story, and they likely didn’t believe his new one. Why did they let him testify anyway? The answer is simple: They had no choice. In the U.S., a defendant’s right to testify is absolute. Lawyers can (and usually do) advise their clients not to take the stand; the final decision, however, always rests with the defendant.

Whether Söring’s lawyers believed him is irrelevant. Lawyers may not knowingly present false testimony to a court, but neither Neaton nor Cleaveland knew Söring’s latest story to be false. They would let him tell his story, then let the jury decide. Both lawyers did everything they could to support Söring’s version, with Neaton even claiming in court that he had concealed evidence of Söring’s innocence (i.e., the movie tickets) from his own client for three years. Neaton and Cleaveland, as appeals courts all found, provided vigorous, ethical representation in a complex and delicate situation.

Söring had approached Stang in the hope of recruiting a police commissioner and writer to his cause. What resulted was another exhaustive, dispassionate analysis which came to the same conclusion as every investigator except Chuck Reid: Söring was guilty beyond a reasonable doubt—or, to use the German version of the phrase, “to a probability bordering on certainty”. Stang’s book is thoroughly researched, closely reasoned, and convincing.

Stang and I talked and exchanged emails. He recounted his difficulties getting a publisher interested in his work. Even though the case is famous throughout Germany and Stang was a published author and expert, German publishers showed little interest. Stang got the impression publishers were wary of alienating Söring’s powerful supporters, such as John Grisham and Christian Wulff. Further, Stang had heard the same comments feedback from editors as I had: The public is more interested in the story of a heroic German nerd who sacrificed his freedom out of love than in the story of a guilty murderer who was lying all along.

Stang also mentioned that Söring had a convenient explanation for why Eva Beck had gone public with her doubts: She had made romantic advances to Söring which Söring had rebuffed. I asked Stang whether Söring, who had brought his laptop to the conversation, had provided a single email, text, note, or other record to support this accusation. He had not.