Man walks free 17 years after conviction

Moments before a judge sentenced him to 50 years to life in prison, Martin Tankleff uttered the words he has repeated for almost two decades: "I stand before you innocent of this charge. I loved my parents. I did not kill them."

His appeal fell on deaf ears that day in October 1990, as it did many more times during the 17 years he languished in prison.

Then a panel of judges overturned Tankleff's murder conviction last month, citing possible evidence that a business associate might have had a role in Tankleff's parents' deaths. On Wednesday, prosecutors said they would not retry Tankleff, making him a free man.

At a Manhattan news conference Thursday, Tankleff, now 36, thanked his legal team and relatives who stood by him. He spoke about getting a college education and perhaps attending law school. "I have a lot to do," he said. "Every day I got up in prison, I knew I wasn't alone in my fight. I had my aunts, my uncles, my cousins, and they're all still there."

His exoneration ended an extraordinary legal odyssey that included a coerced confession, a drawn-out appeal bankrolled by a team of high-powered lawyers who took the case pro bono and conspiracy theories about the identity of the real killers.

Seymour Tankleff and his wife, Arlene, were found slain in their waterfront home in Belle Terre, a well-to-do neighborhood on Long Island, on Sept. 7, 1988, the morning Martin was to begin his senior year of high school. Arlene Tankleff was found bludgeoned in her bedroom; Seymour was stabbed in his study and died about a month later.

Detectives questioned the teenager at the home after he called 911 to report the attack. Later, they took him to police headquarters, where they employed an interrogation tactic in which they falsely told him his father had awakened from a coma and named him as the killer.

Tankleff wondered aloud if he might have "blacked out" and committed the crimes, adding, "It's starting to come to me." The motive, he told police, was anger over a variety of slights, including being made to drive a "crummy old Lincoln." Tankleff almost immediately recanted the confession, refusing to sign what the officers had written.

From the day of his arrest through his trial — one of the nation's first televised on Court TV — Tankleff pointed to a business partner of his father who ran a string of bagel shops. He claimed the businessman, Jerry Steuerman, owed his father thousands and enlisted street thugs to commit the murders to escape his debt.

Steuerman denied the allegations and insisted he was not involved. Authorities never gave serious consideration to Steuerman as a suspect, despite his own bizarre behavior: Just days after the Tankleff killings, he faked his own suicide and fled to California in a disguise.

Steuerman, who was the last person to leave the Tankleff home, at about 3 a.m. on the day of the killings after an all-night poker game, claimed his erratic behavior was the result of stress.

Tankleff's defense team filed numerous appeals to no avail; in 2000, the U.S. Supreme Court declined to hear his argument that the confession was tainted.

Finally, in 2003, his attorneys were granted a new hearing in Suffolk County, claiming they had a witness who would say he drove two men to and from the Tankleff house on the night of the slayings, and that one of them was later seen burning his clothes.

But that witness never testified, citing his Fifth Amendment rights against self-incrimination. Other witnesses testified that they heard one of the men allegedly in the car that night, Joey "Guns" Creedon, confess he was involved.

Creedon, a career criminal who testified at the hearing that he had committed rape and assaults, has denied involvement in the killings.

Tankleff claimed he slept through the carnage.

In 2006, a Suffolk County judge rejected Tankleff's appeal, claiming the bulk of the testimony was unreliable and referring to the witnesses as a "cavalcade of nefarious characters."

His attorneys then went to the Appellate Division of the State Supreme Court, which ruled last month it was "probable" that a new jury would render a different verdict.

The case was sent back to Suffolk County, where District Attorney Thomas Spota decided this week that a second trial would be difficult at best.

Spota said he would ask Gov. Eliot Spitzer to appoint a special prosecutor to investigate Tankleff's claims that Steuerman or others were involved.

As for Tankleff, when asked what he has enjoyed most about his newfound freedom, he responded: "Waking up as a free man, having a cup of coffee and watching the sun rise."

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Associated Press writer Karen Matthews in New York contributed to this report.