Do It Yourself?

[The Tracker]

Chapter 1

Do It Yourself

"The state police were under quite a bit of pressure locally to solve this case, and I think the comments were a deliberate act on their part to cut down on any publicity...It was a dirty tactic of the lieutenant to trash Brianna so that the local pressure would come off, and it worked pretty well. That was pretty much the end of the story."

Maitland said he and his wife were forced to become ever more active in the case—posters, a massive search aided by the Klaas Foundation. Even today, Maitland continues to solicit tips, which he passes on to Vermont authorities. The family has offered a $20,000 reward.

If you don't do all this yourself, it doesn't get done," he said.

He has the same complaint as the loved ones of so many other missing-person cases: police were slow to respond and disorganized in the early days of the investigation. For example, Vermont state police for five days failed to link Brianna disappearance's to the discovery of her car, which had been found by a trooper and ordered towed.

Police agencies are now required by law to post an immediate alert with the National Crime Information Center when a juvenile goes missing—but that's a baby step, Maitland said.

He said both local law enforcement and loved ones are easily overwhelmed by a newly developing missing-persons case. America desperately needs a first-response missing persons agency that could rush in and use its expertise to ensure that investigations begin properly, Maitland said.

The FEMA-type agency could specialize in everything from publicity to investigation protocols to family aid, he said.

Today, the Maitlands have moved from Vermont to upstate New York—in part because they got death threats as a result of their own investigation, and in part because they needed a change of venue "where we could try to rebuild our life."

Maitland said he has a better relationship today with a new Vermont state police supervisor of the case, and he stays in regular contact.

"I hate to sound like a police basher," he said. "The police did not cause Brianna's disappearance, but the police might be the reason that she hasn't been found."

[The Tracker]

Chapter 2

2,300 a Day

Reports of missing persons have increased sixfold in the past 25 years, from roughly 150,000 in 1980 to about 900,000 this year. The increase was driven in part by the country's growing population. But the numbers also indicate that law enforcement treats the cases more seriously now, including those of marginalized citizens.

An astounding 2,300 Americans are reported missing every day, including both adults and children.

But only a tiny fraction of those are stereotypical abductions or kidnappings by a stranger.

For example, the federal government counted 840,279 missing persons cases in 2001. All but about 50,000 were juveniles, classified as anyone younger than 18.

The National Center for Missing Adults, based in Phoenix, consistently tracks about 48,000 "active cases," says president Kym Pasqualini, although that number has been bumped up by nearly 11,000 reports of persons missing after this year's hurricanes.

In a phone interview, Pasqualini said a breakdown of the 48,000 cases reveals the democratic nature of America's missing persons.

Slightly more than half—about 25,500—of the missing are men. About four out of 10 missing adults are white, three of 10 black and two of 10 Latino.

Among missing adults, about one-sixth have psychiatric problems. Young men, people with drug or alcohol addictions and elderly citizens suffering from dementia make up other significant subgroups of missing adults.

About half of the roughly 800,000 missing juvenile cases in 2001 involved runaways, and another 200,000 were classified as family abductions related to domestic or custody disputes.

Only about 100 missing-child reports each year fit the profile of a stereotypical abduction by a stranger or vague acquaintance.

Two-thirds of those victims are ages 12 to 17, and among those eight out of 10 are white females, according to a Justice Department study. Nearly 90 percent of the abductors are men, and they sexually assault their victims in half of the cases.

To further complicate categorization of cases, the FBI designates some missing-person incidents—both adult and juvenile—that seem most dire as "endangered" or "involuntary."

For example, the agency deemed Taylor Behl, the 17-year-old college student missing in Richmond, Va., to be endangered. More than 100,000 missing persons, the vast majority of them children, are designated as endangered each year. About 30,000 are deemed involuntary.

[The Tracker]

Chapter 3

"Damsels in Distress"

Pasqualini said citizens and the media are more savvy about abductions today, 15 years after a near national panic over a misconception about the scope of missing children. Milk carton profiles and shocking—but misleading—statistics prompted tens of thousands of mothers and fathers to have their children fingerprinted, just in case their worst fears came to pass.

"You don't want people to become complacent because there is danger out there," said Pasqualini, whose interest in her work dates to her own attempted abduction when she was 8. "Just walking to your car in a Wal-Mart parking lot, you could be in danger of something happening."

On the other hand, she said, victims' advocates and the media would present a more rational portrait of missing persons by adding context to reporting on individual cases, such as the disappearance of Behl in Richmond or Alabama student Natalee Holloway in Aruba.

Pasqualini said the media tends to focus on "damsels in distress"—typically, affluent young white women and teenagers.

The media's dilemma is that government research shows that victims of nonfamily abductions and stereotypical kidnappings are most at risk of injury, sexual assault or death. "Damsel" cases may be the exception, but they often are the most urgent.

"We'd like to see a little more diversity in reporting because we have cases that never make the front page of the local newspaper, let alone the national media," Pasqualini said. "All parents are going through the same thing, no matter how much attention their case gets."

Among those distressed parents are Bruce and Kellie Maitland, whose daughter Brianna disappeared in March 2004 near Montgomery, Vt.


She emphasized that citizens should use reasonable caution.

[The Tracker]

Chapter 4

Maitland Case

In the past 18 months, Bruce Maitland has become an unfortunate expert in missing person cases, learning the hard way.

His daughter was 17 when she vanished—the same age as Taylor Behl.

Yet her case has received very limited national publicity.

"It baffles me sometimes why one is picked and one isn't," he told the Crime Library. "My wife and I were talking about it. I think the missing girl has to be a perfect person."

Charlotte Riley, whose daughter, Amie, disappeared and was later found slain in New Hampshire, referred bitterly to the phenomenon in comments to the media earlier this year.

"She wasn't a beautiful college co-ed," Riley said of her daughter. "It doesn't matter what your child looks like. ... She was a person."

Like the loved ones of many missing persons, the Maitlands maintain a web site and Internet forum about their daughter (http://www.bringbrihome.org).

The Maitlands understood that publicity was essential in the days after the teenager disappeared.

A tip sheet for loved ones of missing children prepared by the Klaas Kids Foundation, named in honor of Polly Klaas, a California girl abducted from her home and murdered in 1994, suggests that media contact is second in importance only to police contact, and parents have been following that advice assiduously, including the mother of Taylor Behl.

But Vermont state police seemed to view Bruce Maitland's media advocacy as an intrusion, and law enforcement authorities there by and large declined to make themselves available when the national media called about the case.

"We begged them to cooperate," Maitland said.

[The Tracker]

Chapter 5

Father Complains

A month after the girl's disappearance, Maitland complained about the state police investigation in a letter to the governor and in subsequent interviews.

"As the parents, we receive many tips that we forward to police," Maitland wrote. "Are they acted on? Who knows? Police tell you nothing about what they are doing with your case and tips, but we know the results. NOTHING."

State police responded two months later with a stunning press conference at which the lieutenant supervising the investigation all but blamed the victim, suggesting that Brianna Maitland was a drug user who had made poor choices that may have prompted her apparent predicament.

The teenager "has a very questionable background involving drug use," said Lieutenant Thomas Nelson. "She made some unhealthy lifestyle choices in her life prior to her disappearance...Brianna was involved in the drug communities in that area. She allowed that world to become part of her world."

As evidence, Nelson said the missing girl had an "unspecified" relationship with a crack dealer from Queens who was living in the area.

A week later, the state police chief criminal investigator, Capt. Bruce Lang, went even further in a conversation with a reporter from the local newspaper, the St. Albans Messenger.

The reporter wrote that Lang "confirmed Maitland owed someone money for drugs at the time of her disappearance. Lang said two people interviewed during the exhaustive investigation told police Maitland had outstanding drug debts. Lang would not say how much money she owed or for what drug." The paper also noted that a newly released photo of the missing girl showed her as "thinner and more pale."

Eight months later, the Messenger printed a front-page story that partially retracted the drug implications, which apparently were based largely on gossip in Montgomery, an insular, isolated town of 900 near the Canadian border.

[The Tracker]

Chapter 6

State police responded two months later with a stunning press conference at which the lieutenant supervising the investigation all but blamed the victim, suggesting that Brianna Maitland was a drug user who had made poor choices that may have prompted her apparent predicament.

The teenager "has a very questionable background involving drug use," said Lieutenant Thomas Nelson. "She made some unhealthy lifestyle choices in her life prior to her disappearance...Brianna was involved in the drug communities in that area. She allowed that world to become part of her world."

As evidence, Nelson said the missing girl had an "unspecified" relationship with a crack dealer from Queens who was living in the area.

A week later, the state police chief criminal investigator, Capt. Bruce Lang, went even further in a conversation with a reporter from the local newspaper, the St. Albans Messenger.

The reporter wrote that Lang "confirmed Maitland owed someone money for drugs at the time of her disappearance. Lang said two people interviewed during the exhaustive investigation told police Maitland had outstanding drug debts. Lang would not say how much money she owed or for what drug." The paper also noted that a newly released photo of the missing girl showed her as "thinner and more pale."

Eight months later, the Messenger printed a front-page story that partially retracted the drug implications, which apparently were based largely on gossip in Montgomery, an insular, isolated town of 900 near the Canadian border.

If you don't do all this yourself, it doesn't get done," he said.

He has the same complaint as the loved ones of so many other missing-person cases: police were slow to respond and disorganized in the early days of the investigation. For example, Vermont state police for five days failed to link Brianna disappearance's to the discovery of her car, which had been found by a trooper and ordered towed.

Police agencies are now required by law to post an immediate alert with the National Crime Information Center when a juvenile goes missing—but that's a baby step, Maitland said.

He said both local law enforcement and loved ones are easily overwhelmed by a newly developing missing-persons case. America desperately needs a first-response missing persons agency that could rush in and use its expertise to ensure that investigations begin properly, Maitland said.

The FEMA-type agency could specialize in everything from publicity to investigation protocols to family aid, he said.

Today, the Maitlands have moved from Vermont to upstate New York—in part because they got death threats as a result of their own investigation, and in part because they needed a change of venue "where we could try to rebuild our life."

Maitland said he has a better relationship today with a new Vermont state police supervisor of the case, and he stays in regular contact.

"I hate to sound like a police basher," he said. "The police did not cause Brianna's disappearance, but the police might be the reason that she hasn't been found."