He Didn't Eat Anyone. He's Still Guilty.
The “cannibal cop” has been convicted of a crime he only dreamed of committing.
But Valle's online records could just as well be evidence of masturbation, or research for his short stories. In covering this trial for Slate, I've looked up some horrendous things myself—my browser's cache is now a stinking pit of filth. (For the record, I'm not planning to eat anyone.) As for Valle's sophisticated record-keeping, it turns out he used the Finder app in Mac OS X. Yes, he'd alphabetized his files, but he might as well have arranged them by "Date modified" or "Size."
Then there was the second charge, that Valle used a computer in his squad car to enter names into a law enforcement database. But the cannibal cop never looked up his supposed victims while he was allegedly conspiring to kill them. (He's been convicted of looking up a high-school friend named Maureen instead. According to the government, Valle fantasized about eating Maureen but did not really intend to do so.) Even if Valle had looked up Kimberly in 2012, what would he have learned? He already knew where she lived and where she worked. He could have killed her either way.
From one perspective—from my perspective—what Valle said was horrific and disturbing, but what he did was not so ominous at all. For the jurors, though, Valle's thoughts tainted his actions. They believed his online chats were real, and that means they thought he meant to roast a woman on a spit stabbed through her womb. If you start from there, then I get how everything that came after might look like a step along the way to unspeakable violence. A weekend trip to Maryland to hang out with your college friends could be construed as a prelude to a murder.
It seems as though the jury bought into elements 1 and 2, that Valle joined a genuine conspiracy to kidnap, kill, and eat his friends. With that in place, the final leap was easy: He searched their names online, and he went to where they lived. These were real-world acts, in furtherance of his cannibal plot. Gilberto Valle should go to prison.
"His goose is cooked," proclaimed the New York Daily News. Other geese are in the fryer, too. In February, police arrested Moody Blues—real name: Dale Bolinger—in a suburb of Kent, England. Investigators dug up his backyard, presumably looking for the gnawed-on bones of children. "None of this is real," he protested. "It's all fantasy. I'm an idiot." Michael Van Hise, the New Jersey man who offered Valle $4,000 in exchange for a kidnapped sex slave, and whose wife calls him "a big teddy bear," has also been taken into custody. These three men have never met. They never exchanged money. They never knew each other's names. Yet now all three of them are implicated in the same fantasy conspiracy, to abduct and kill Gilberto Valle's wife and friends.
Dark Fetish Net, the social networking site where the cannibal cop met Bolinger and Van Hise, carries a boldface message on its home page: "Please also remember that THIS PLACE IS ABOUT FANTASIES ONLY, so play safe!" Valle's personal profile, where he went by the handle "GirlMeatHunter," had another version of the same: "I love to push the envelope," he wrote, "but no matter what I say it's all fantasy." In many of his chats he issued the same important caveat.
For a few brief chats in 2012, though, Valle abandoned this disclaimer. He indulged a darker fantasy of what it might be like to plan and do these things for real. He met other cannibal fetishists who liked to push the envelope, and they goaded each other on. No one followed through and no one got hurt, but that glimmer of possibility is what turned them on the most. Saying that they'd kill a girl got these people off. Saying that they'd kill a girl might also put them all in prison.