Killer Nurse: Genene Jones | Do No Harm | 4

This episode contains descriptions and details that some listeners might find disturbing. Listener discretion is advised. It's early in the morning in December of 2016 in the suburb of San Antonio, Texas.

Today is a Saturday, so 56-year-old Connie Weeks is enjoying a leisurely start to the day. She's been working a lot of overtime at the bank lately.

She tells people she's saving up for Christmas, but really it's because she needs to keep herself busy at this time of year. The run up to the anniversary never gets easier.

As she waits for her coffee to brew, Connie's surprised to hear a knock on the door. She checks her reflection in the hallway mirror, making sure she doesn't look like she just rolled out of bed. She opens the door to a suited, clean, shaven man.

He introduces himself as Jason Goss, Assistant District Attorney. Immediately nervous, Connie asked to see his ID. He shows it to her and then quickly clarifies that she's not in any trouble.

He has a few questions for her about her son, Joshua. Just hearing his name spoken by this stranger is like a physical blow to Connie. This week will mark 36 years since her 11-month-old son died, but the pain is just as fresh as ever.

Usually, she doesn't talk about it with anyone, but there's something urgent in Jason's expression, and she finds she can't say no. Connie lets Jason inside, and they sit down at her rickety kitchen table.

He turns down her offer for coffee, so she just pours a cup for herself. Her hands are shaking a little. Jason's first question is whether she still has any of Joshua's medical records.

Connie confirms that she has all of them. She preserved every single scrap of paper carefully in a 3-inch thick binder, which she keeps inside a fireproof safe in her bedroom. It's all she has left of her son now.

Hearing this, Jason is visibly excited. He asks to see the records, but Connie hesitates. She wants to know why he's here first.

When Joshua died, he'd been in the hospital for days, suffering from smoke inhalation. Is this something to do with the house fire? Jason shakes his head and asks if she remembers a nurse called Genene Jones.

Connie says she's never forgotten Genene. Jason takes notes as Connie explains that Genene was her lifeline throughout the whole nightmare. She was always straight with her.

Early on, she'd warned her that Joshua's odds weren't good. Looking back, Connie's grateful for that. Thanks to Genene, she'd been prepared for the worst.

Jason looks grimly at her. I'm guessing you don't know what Genene Jones has been doing since then. Connie falters, confused.

She hadn't given it much thought. She's done her best to put that whole chapter of her life behind her. Jason finally cuts to the chase.

He tells her, We don't believe your son died from natural causes. We think he was murdered. From Airship, I'm Jeremy Schwartz, and this is American Criminal.

In the summer of 1982, Genene Jones moved away from her hometown of San Antonio, Texas, in search of a fresh start.

4:33

Genene's New Territory

To everyone who asked, she insisted it was her choice to leave, just like it had been her choice to resign from Bexar County Hospital. After three years, she claimed she'd outgrown the pediatric ICU and she needed a new challenge.

But the truth is, Genene was fleeing. The scrutiny on her had been growing for months, ever since infants began dying on her watch in record numbers. An investigation had blamed the deaths on mismanagement and human error.

But a growing number of staff there knew the real truth, that Genene had been deliberately overdosing her infant patients with blood thinners. They just couldn't prove it.

So, Genene moved 65 miles north to the small town of Kerrville to take a new job working for her former colleague, Dr. Kathleen Holland. There, in the heart of Texas Hill Country, she went right back to her old tricks.

At this point, she was incapable of stopping even if she wanted to. She changed her MO just enough to cover her tracks, using a muscle relaxant instead of a blood thinner to induce medical emergencies in a whole new population of helpless patients.

But Genene wasn't as smart as she thought she was. She didn't realize that changing her methods wouldn't obscure her crimes. Her victims' specific symptoms and causes of death weren't the thing drawing attention to her.

It was the fact that they were all dying on her watch. And as soon as that began happening again, the net began to close around Genene for the last time. This is the final episode in our series about the crimes of Genene Jones.

Do no harm. It's a warm August morning in Kerrville, Texas in 1982.

6:34

Chelsea's Death

Dr. Kathleen Holland's pediatric clinic has only been open for a day, but word travels fast in a small town. It's a little after 10 a.m.

and the waiting area is already full. As she walks out of her office, Kathleen allows herself a second to take it all in. Her very own clinic.

It was a dream for so long, but now it's a reality. Determined to make a strong first impression, Kathleen's decided to personally greet all of her patients in the waiting room, instead of letting the receptionist send them back to her office.

After checking the day's appointment list, she walks over to Petty McClellan, a young woman who's holding her toddler in her lab. Petty was thrilled when she heard about the clinic opening.

Until now, she's had to drive miles away to get routine care for her two kids. Today, she's here to get her 14-month-old daughter Chelsea checked out. Kathleen escorts Petty and Chelsea into her office, where her head nurse, Genene Jones, is waiting.

Kathleen asks Petty a series of questions about Chelsea's medical history. There's a lot to get through. Chelsea was born four weeks premature and has been in and out of the hospital with breathing problems for the first year of her life.

Her most recent hospitalization was three months ago, and she's been doing well ever since then. But she needs to be monitored closely. Chelsea has the sniffles right now and Petty wants to make sure there's nothing more serious going on.

After Petty and Kathleen have been talking for a few minutes, Chelsea starts to get restless. Genene offers to take her into another room to play with her so that Petty can focus on completing the history and other paperwork.

She lets Genene scoop Chelsea up and carry her out of the room. A few minutes later, though, Kathleen gets a page to come to one of the treatment rooms. Excusing herself, she goes to see what's going on.

She's horrified to find Chelsea lying unconscious on an exam table, with Genene pumping oxygen into her lungs through a mask. Her voice frantic, Genene tells her that they were playing in the reception area when Chelsea suddenly collapsed.

Now she's not breathing. As the two women watch in horror, Chelsea starts having a seizure. It's an awful sight, her tiny body convulsing uncontrollably.

Kathleen can't make sense of what she's seeing. This child came in with a cold. Her vitals were completely normal.

Now, less than a half hour later, her body is shutting down. And Kathleen's long-held dream is quickly turning hellish and terrifying. After giving Chelsea anti-convulsant medication and stabilizing her, Kathleen calls an ambulance.

Chelsea is transported to the closest DR at Sid Peterson Hospital, where her condition improves quickly. Her doctors are mystified by what had caused her to suddenly stop breathing. All of their tests came back clear.

But her medical history provides some clues. She was a preemie, so her lungs were underdeveloped, and she had breathing problems for her first year. That might explain her sudden respiratory arrest.

Her growing lungs are still healing. The whole experience is scary, but it only leaves Petty with a strong sense of confidence in Kathleen and her clinic. As far as she's concerned, she and Genene saved Chelsea's life.

But in fact, Chelsea is the canary in the coal mine. Over the next few weeks, six more children suddenly become seriously ill during routine visits to the clinic, sick enough to be admitted to the ER.

Some recover quickly, while others spend days in the ICU with lingering breathing problems. And in every case, the symptoms seem to come out of nowhere.

A few members of the ER staff start to notice a weirdly high number of kids coming in from Kerrville's brand new pediatric clinic. But word hasn't spread, at least not yet. It certainly hasn't reached Petty.

So, on September 17th, she's only too happy to bring Chelsea back to the clinic for a follow up with Kathleen.

She's made a complete recovery since her trip to the hospital, so this appointment is just for all the routine stuff that got pushed back last time. Kathleen checks Chelsea's vitals and then sends Petty to another exam room for Chelsea's shots.

Genene leads the way. When Petty gets into the room, the syringes are already prepared and lying on the countertop. Genene identifies one of them as the measles mumps rubella vaccine, and the other is the tetanus diphtheria vaccine.

What Petty doesn't know and could never guess is that the syringes actually contain a muscle relaxant called succinicoline, Genene's latest weapon of choice.

Petty sits Chelsea on her lap with the little girl facing her so that she doesn't have to look at the needle. Genene approaches with a syringe and injects it into Chelsea's left thigh. After a couple of minutes, Petty notices that something's wrong.

Chelsea is struggling for breath. She's making choked little sounds, like she's trying to say something, but the words are stuck in her throat. Petty is terrified and asks Genene what's going on.

Genene reassures her, Chelsea's just reacting to the pain of the injection. Before Petty can respond, Genene gives Chelsea the second shot. Within seconds, Chelsea's lips begin turning blue, and she stops breathing.

As Petty stares in horror, Genene springs into action. Her eyes are wild as she screams, she's not breathing. Moments later, Kathleen runs into the room, just as Chelsea begins seizing, her body shaking uncontrollably.

By the time an ambulance arrives at the clinic, Kathleen and Genene have managed to get Chelsea breathing again. She's transferred back to the ER at Sid Peterson, and although she's in a stable condition, the doctors there are alarmed.

This is her second unexplained respiratory arrest in less than a month, which suggests that maybe there's some kind of deeper neurological problem.

They recommend transferring Chelsea to a larger hospital in San Antonio, where she can be closely monitored and given a full workup. So, after a few hours at Sid Peterson, Chelsea has maneuvered back into an ambulance.

She's hooked up to a heart monitor, breathing tube, and an IV. Petty is horrified and in shock, but Kathleen tells her not to worry. Genene will ride in the ambulance with Chelsea.

She won't let anything happen to her. The ambulance sets off for San Antonio with Kathleen and Petty following behind in their own cars.

Chelsea is alone with Genene and a single paramedic who's pumping oxygen into her breathing tube from a respiratory bag.

He's too preoccupied with his task to notice when Genene quietly removes a third full syringe from her pocket, nor does he notice when she injects it into Chelsea's leg. Within seconds, the muscle relaxes and gets to work.

Chelsea's heart stops again, provoking a long drawn out beep from the monitor. Genene shrieks and starts performing chest compressions, yelling at the driver to pull over.

Driving in her own car behind the ambulance, Kathleen doesn't know that any of this is happening. All she sees is the ambulance pulls sharply to the side of the road, then come to a stop on the shoulder.

Her heart's sinking, she pulls over, parks, then runs to the ambulance as fast as she can. She yanks open the back door and pulls herself into the vehicle, taking stock of the horrific scene in front of her.

Kathleen can see that Genene is in her element, all eyes on her, the one thing standing between this child and certain death.

Something about it unnerves Kathleen, so she pushes Genene out of the way and takes over compressions, asking how on earth this happened. Nobody has an answer. Kathleen orders a round of drugs to try to restart Chelsea's heart.

When they have no effect, she yells at the driver to get them to the closest hospital. They arrive at a small town facility a couple of minutes later, and Chelsea is rushed into the ER.

There, Kathleen and the hospital's team try for more than 20 minutes to get Chelsea's heart started again. But it's no good. Eventually, Kathleen halts the resuscitation efforts and gently peels back Chelsea's eyelids.

Her pupils are blown, no longer responding to light. That indicates that her brain has been deprived of oxygen for too long, leading to irreversible damage. It's over.

Her body, heavy with shock, Kathleen goes into the waiting area to break the news to Petty. Before she can even finish explaining what's happened, they're interrupted by the sound of quiet weeping.

Genene has emerged from the ER, cradling Chelsea's body wrapped in a blanket. She hands her over to Petty, telling her, I'm sorry, over and over again. Kathleen can only watch and numb the Wildermen.

The whole thing feels like a surreal nightmare. And it's only just beginning. Back at the clinic that evening, Kathleen runs through the day's events in her mind again and again, trying to figure out where things went so disastrously wrong.

Maybe she'd feel different if today was an isolated incident, but they haven't even been open for a month yet, and they've already sent so many children to the ER in critical condition. Is this normal for a small town pediatric clinic, she wonders?

She's only ever worked in large urban hospitals. After writing up her own account of Chelsea's death, Kathleen reads through Genene's notes. They mostly align with Kathleen's experience, but they end strangely.

A single sentence, which stands alone beneath the rest of the notes. I would have given my life for hers. Goodbye, Chelsea.

Reading over those words, Kathleen feels a chill run through her. The tone of it reminds her of something that former colleagues often said about Genene, that she loved to play the hero.

And in that moment, for the first time, Kathleen begins to wonder if she's made a terrible, deadly mistake. If you run a small business, you know there's nothing small about it.

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In the small Texas town of Kerrville, 27-year-old Petty McClellan stands just inside the entrance of the Garden of Memory Cemetery. It's right in the center of Texas Hill Country, surrounded by rolling, rugged peaks and valleys.

Petty looks around at the lush landscape, trying to ground herself. She's been coming here every morning for a week now, and she's still waiting for it to get easier. Her daughter Chelsea would have been 15 months and 11 days old today.

It still doesn't feel real. A couple of weeks ago, Chelsea was a healthy, energetic little girl. She was talkative for her age, always babbling away to herself, right up until the moment she'd fallen silent forever.

Since then, the family's small trailer home has been unbearably quiet. Petty takes a deep breath and walks further into the cemetery towards Chelsea's grave.

Everything feels a little strange and far away, like she's seeing her surroundings through a layer of gauze. Her doctor has her on sedatives to help her sleep and she figures that's why she feels so out of it.

In fact, right now, she swears she can hear Chelsea's name on the wind, whispered over and over like a prayer. She shakes her head, trying to snap herself out of it, but the closer she gets to the gravestone, the louder the voice becomes.

And then she stops dead in her tracks. There's someone at Chelsea's grave, a stocky woman kneeling on the ground bent low over the headstone. She's rocking back and forth, crying to herself and moaning Chelsea's name over and over again.

For a second, Petty thinks she's still imagining things, but then she moves closer. She recognizes this woman. It's Genene Jones, the nurse who took care of Chelsea.

In fact, she'd been at Chelsea's side when she suffered the heart attack that killed her. She'd sobbed openly when she'd brought Chelsea's tiny body out to Petty, wrapped carefully in a blanket.

At the time, Petty had been touched by Genene's dedication, and by how genuinely heartbroken the nurse seemed. But now, she's unnerved. What is she doing here?

Petty moves closer to the grave and calls out Genene's name, but Genene doesn't respond. She just gets to her feet with as much dignity as she can and raises her eyes to Petty looking straight through her.

Then, without saying a word, Genene turns and walks away. Petty watches her go, fists clenched at her side. She cannot make sense of what just happened.

Genene's presence at the grave site, her bizarre emotional display, and the way she completely ignored Petty. What was that? It takes Petty a few minutes to notice that something is missing from Chelsea's grave.

There had been a ribbon tied into a bow adorning the top of the headstone. Now it's gone. She looks around everywhere, wondering if it could have blown away in the wind somehow.

But she knows that it couldn't have. It was secured to the grave with zip ties. And it had most definitely been there when she left yesterday.

In that moment, Petty knows without question that Genene has taken the bow. She wheels around to look in the direction she walked, but the nurse is long gone. Suddenly, she's shaking so much that she has to sit down on the dewy ground.

Petty has never blamed the medical staff for her daughter's death. As far as she saw, Chelsea received first class care from both Genene and her boss, Dr. Kathleen Holland.

At least, that's what she's been telling herself. But this bizarre run in which Genene completely changes her perspective. It leaves her with an uneasy feeling in her stomach that she just can't shake.

A primal sense that something is horribly wrong. And soon, she'll realize just how correct her instincts are. Even before Chelsea's death, Kathleen Holland's clinic had started to draw suspicion.

25:26

Kathleen's Discovery

Dr. Joe Vinyas, a young surgeon at Sid Peterson Hospital, was stunned by the sheer number of babies who were arriving from the clinic. At first, he chalked it up to overcaution.

The clinic was brand new, and Kathleen obviously didn't want to take any chances. But many, too many, of these children turned out to have serious symptoms, which seemed to have come from nowhere. Seizures, respiratory arrests, heart attacks.

This wasn't normal. And he was determined to get to the bottom of it. As the owner of the clinic and the physician in charge of all these mysteriously sick patients, Kathleen was Joe's main focus.

He soon found out that she did a residency at Bexar County Hospital, just like he did. So he started calling up his contacts to see what he could find out about her background. At first, he didn't dig up much.

But then, he mentioned that Genene Jones is the head nurse at Kathleen's clinic. That's when people start talking. They told Joe about the spade of unexplained infant deaths on the PICU.

All of them on Genene's watch. One former colleague didn't mince words, telling him, You got a baby killer on your hands. Unnerved, Joe reported all of this back to his hospital's executive committee.

And now they're ready to take the matter further. On Friday, September 24th, exactly a week after Chelsea's death, they bring Kathleen in for a meeting.

She comes prepared with extensive notes for each patient, and provides a solid medical rationale for every transfer to the hospital.

She doesn't deny that the number has been unusually high, but she maintains that she and her staff have done nothing wrong. Then, hospital administrator Tony Hall asks her a strangely specific question.

Has she ever used the muscle relaxant succinicoline? Kathleen says that she has it in her office, but she's never used it. She's curious though.

What makes him ask that? But Tony doesn't respond. The truth is, he has a theory, but with no evidence to back it, he's keeping it to himself for now.

At that point, the focus of the questions turns to Genene. The committee asked Kathleen about what happened at Bear County Hospital earlier this year.

The months of mysterious infant deaths on the PICU there, and the external committee that was brought in to investigate. Kathleen says that as far as she knows, they found no evidence of wrongdoing.

All the LVNs were moved off the PICU as part of an overhaul, and offered jobs elsewhere in the hospital, including Genene. But she'd chosen to leave instead and come to work for Kathleen. It's all technically true.

But when one committee member asked Kathleen if she trusts Genene, she hesitates for a moment before saying yes. She won't admit this to them, but the truth is that ever since Chelsea's death, Kathleen's doubts about Genene have been growing.

It's like her blinders are gone, and all the red flags she's been missing are suddenly there, glaring and blowing in the wind. Now being grilled by the committee has shaken her to the core.

The next day, Kathleen gets in to work early before anyone else is in. She goes straight to the refrigerator where perishable drugs are stored, and finds two vials of succinicoline exactly where they should be.

But when she looks closer, she sees that one of the vials is missing its plastic top. There's only a rubber cap keeping the liquid inside, and there's a needle hole in that cap. Small, but absolutely unmistakable.

Kathleen finally confronts Genene when she arrives to start the day. She asks her about the vial, and Genene reminds her that they've taken it with them to the ER as a precaution about three weeks ago.

They transferred a 21-month-old patient named Misty there for a spinal tap, and Genene had thought they might need a muscle relaxant to stop the child from struggling. Kathleen remembers this.

She also remembers refusing to use the drug when Genene suggested it. It's far too powerful. This is a drug used on an infant only if there's no other choice.

So why is the vial uncapped? Genene says she doesn't know. She found it that way in the hospital room after Misty had been transferred elsewhere.

Anyway, it doesn't matter. She points out that the vial is still full. It hasn't been used, so what's the problem?

Kathleen tells her the committee specifically asked about succinicoline. She's sure they're going to escalate this to the Texas Medical Board to investigate, and the board will definitely see this uncapped vial as a problem. Genene is unfazed.

She suggests they simply throw the vial away and tell the board it's missing, or better yet, tell them that they only keep one vial on hand. Kathleen just stares at her.

Genene's talking about lying to the medical board, like she's suggesting they go out for cocktails after work. And she barely seems to care at all that the clinic is under investigation. But Genene's more rattled than she lets on.

During her lunch break, she locks herself in an empty treatment room, her heart pounding. Kerrville was supposed to be her new start, her escape from the scrutiny she'd faced back in San Antonio.

She really thought she covered her tracks this time, by switching to a muscle relaxant instead of a blood thinner as her weapon of choice. But now, she can feel the walls closing in all over again.

Cornered, Genene falls back on her default impulse, engineer a medical emergency. Only this time, she'll be the patient. She takes out a bottle of doxapine, an antidepressant medication, and swallows a handful of pills.

Then she leaves the treatment room, walks right up to Kathleen, and tells her that she's just taken an overdose. For Kathleen, this is the final straw. Genene is clearly unstable and possibly hiding a guilty conscience.

Either way, she now knows beyond any doubt that hiring her was a mistake. She calls an ambulance for Genene and waits for her until the paramedics arrive. As soon as Genene is gone, she walks straight into her office and calls Dr.

Jovinus at Sid Peterson. She tells him everything. The uncapped vial, Genene's unconvincing cover story, and her blasé suggestion that they destroy the evidence.

She tells him she's ready to cooperate. She's done protecting Genene Jones. That turns out to be a very smart move.

Because unbeknownst to Kathleen, the investigation has escalated quickly to the state level. The Texas Medical and Nursing Boards have both been notified, and they punted the matter to law enforcement.

For the first time since Genene's death shifts began more than a year ago, the authorities are involved. As Genene is being driven to the ER in an ambulance, she's thinking she'll be safe. Her overdose wasn't an earnest suicide attempt.

She, of all people, knows what a lethal dose is, and what she took is nowhere close. This was just a bid to buy herself some time, but instead, it's made her look more guilty than ever. Come on.

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34:42

Genene's Arrest Conviction

Outside a modest home in Kerrville, Texas, Genene Jones is packing her last few boxes of belongings into the back of her Ford pickup truck. Her two children are already strapped into the back seat, still half asleep.

At 32, this isn't the first time Genene has had to start over. In fact, it's not even the first time in the past year. But now that Kathy has fired her, there's nothing keeping her here.

She'd begged Kathy to change her mind. She'd bombarded her with phone calls and emotional letters. When that hadn't worked, she threatened to sue, until her lawyer sent her a little reality check.

Genene, you are a person of interest in a murder investigation, and filing a wrongful termination lawsuit is only going to dredge up more potentially damaging information.

He wants her to leave Texas altogether, in the hopes that the whole thing will die down in her absence. But Genene refuses to be forced out of her home state. Once everything is loaded into the truck, Genene climbs into the driver's seat.

She opens her purse and takes out a handwritten note. She's kept it safely folded away since the day she received it more than a year ago. It's a letter from the mother of 15-month-old Chris Hogeta, Genene's very first victim.

We're so grateful to you for everything that you did for Chris, Diana wrote. If you ever find yourself in San Angelo, our door is always open to you. Genene's never forgotten that invitation.

And now that her list of allies is shrinking fast, she wants to get somewhere she has people on her side. People who will back her up when she says she'd never dream of harming a baby under her care.

So today, she's setting out to drive 150 miles north to San Angelo. All she needs is one more fresh start. For a while, Genene seems to be getting her wish.

The Hogeidas are surprised, but happy to hear from her when she arrives in San Angelo. And they help her to get settled. She and her two kids move into a trailer home.

Taking her lawyer's advice, she doesn't try to get another job in pediatrics. Not while she's being investigated for her role in Chelsea McClellan's death.

Instead, she gets hired at a nursing home, where she's responsible for training newly qualified nurses' aides. She even gets married for the second time to a 19-year-old colleague named Garen.

She never planned on getting remarried, but now she wants someone who'll defend her no matter what. Because in early 1983, headlines start to appear in newspapers across Texas. It's not just the investigation in Kerrville that's causing a stir.

Prosecutors there tipped off their counterparts back in San Antonio. In February, a DA announces he's investigating a spate of mysterious infant deaths at Bexar County Hospital.

None of this has previously reached the press, but now it becomes a media firestorm. Genene's name begins showing up in articles about the investigations.

And although no formal charges have been filed, the Court of Public Opinion has started its proceedings. And she knows it. Even the Hogeidas, who'd once been so devoted to Genene, turn on it.

They stop returning her calls, stop opening their door to her. In March, Genene stands before reporters at a hastily arranged press conference at her attorney's office. Defiant but composed, Genene insists that she's innocent.

She claims that the allegations are a witch hunt and come from doctors who always hated her because they don't like to be told when they've done something wrong. Even now, Genene's desire for attention is palpable.

Her demeanor at the press conference is calm, even a little cocky, like she's enjoying the spotlight. It doesn't really endear her to anyone. Meanwhile, prosecutors in Kerrville are building their case against Genene.

Dr. Kathleen Holland has agreed to testify against her, and the state has a strong theory of the case. But they have no physical evidence that Genene deliberately overdosed any of the children who became ill at the clinic.

Convincing a jury to convict without that will be difficult at best. But then, prosecutor Ron Sutton learns about a newly developed forensic technique.

A toxicologist in Sweden has found a way to detect traces of drugs like succinicoline and human tissue, even in a body that's been embalmed. By now, Pettie McClellan and her husband have filed a wrongful death lawsuit against Kathleen's clinic.

And they're willing to do whatever it takes to assist with the criminal charges, too. So, on May 7th, Chelsea's body is exhumed, and samples of her tissue are sent across the Atlantic to a lab in Stockholm.

Her remains test positive for succinicoline. This is the breakthrough the prosecutors have been waiting for. At last, they are ready to bring the hammer down on Genene.

But first, they have to find her. When Texas Rangers arrive at her trailer, they find it empty. Realizing her number was up, she made one last bid for freedom.

It's a half-hearted one, though. Within a few hours, the Rangers track Genene down in Odessa, about 150 miles west of San Angelo, where she's hiding out with her new husband's relatives. At 10:30 p.m.

on May 25, 1983, Genene Jones is taken into custody. She's indicted on eight criminal counts, including one count of murder for Chelsea McClellan.

She also faces seven charges of injury to a child, each connected to a different pediatric patient at Kathleen's clinic.

In each case, prosecutors allege that she intentionally injected the child with succinicoline in order to induce medical emergencies. The trial moves fast, and within a year, Genene is taking the stand.

She maintains her innocence, but between the physical evidence and the detailed accounts from Kathleen and the medical staff at Sid Peterson Hospital, the case against her is overwhelming.

Even more damning, though, is the heart-rending testimony from Petty McClellan, who breaks down in court as she describes watching her daughter die.

In February of 1984, Genene Jones is convicted of Chelsea's murder and sentenced to 99 years in prison. After that, it's the San Antonio Prosecutor's turn. They focused their attention on the case of four-week-old Rolando Santos.

Thanks to Dr. Kenneth Copeland, the attending physician on Rolando's case, they have the evidence that he was injected with Heparin. Even though Rolando survived, they figured this is their best shot at getting a conviction.

Sure enough, Genene is found guilty and sentenced to another 60 years in prison. Despite terms totaling over 150 years, Texas law dictates that Genene will be eligible for mandatory parole in 2017.

For her, it's a light at the end of a decades-long tunnel, but the authorities refuse to let her go without a fight.

As Genene's parole date approaches, they bring indictments on five new murder charges, each one tied to a child who died under her care at Bexar County Hospital. Joshua Sawyer, Rosemary Vega, Richard Nelson, Patrick Zavala, and Paul Villarreal.

At first, Genene pleads not guilty, again. But during the more than 30 years she spent behind bars, something has shifted. Maybe she's finally admitted the truth to herself.

And finally, in 2020, she's ready to admit the truth publicly. A month before she's due to go to trial for killing Joshua Sawyer, she changes her plea to guilty. She's sentenced to life in prison and remains behind bars today.

The next time she'll be eligible for parole will be the year 2037. While the guilty pleas bring some closure for the Sawyers and all the other parents who waited decades for justice, what it doesn't bring is answers.

To this day, Genene's motives remain a mystery. In some cases, it seems like her goal was to create medical emergencies that she could then swoop in to solve. But in others, she was clearly just carrying out deliberate premeditated murder.

She crushed the breath from tiny patients who were fighting for their lives, then cried genuine, genuine tears over their bodies. Again and again, she saw the flickering, fragile flame of a sick child's life and chose to snuff it out.

And it's not likely that even she could tell you why. From Airship, this is episode 4 in our series on the crimes of Genene Jones.

On the next series, two icons of American Capitalism join forces for a wildly popular marketing scheme, until one man's greed ruins the entire country's fun. We use many different sources while preparing this episode.

A few we can recommend are The Death Ship by Peter Elkin. Elkin's August 1983 article of the same name published in Texas Monthly, and his 2020 article in ProPublica.

This episode may contain reenactments or dramatized details, and while in some cases we can't know exactly what happened, all our dramatizations are based on historical research. American Criminal is a co-production of airship and evergreen podcasts.

It's hosted, edited, and produced by me, Jeremy Schwartz. Audio editing and sound design by Sean Ruhl-Hoffman. Music by Throm.

This episode is written and researched by Emma Dibdin. Managing producer, Emily Burke. Executive producers are Joel Callan, William Simpson, and Lindsey Graham.