The Brutal Murders of Champa and Anita Patel
An ordinary morning becomes a nightmare
Priya was excited—it was her last day of being four years old—and she knew that her parents had something special planned for her that weekend. She rushed through her morning routine because her mom, Anita, wanted to get to her school early to catch some of the other parents and let them know the details of her upcoming birthday party. Priya quickly ate breakfast, brushed her teeth, and said goodbye to her father as he headed out for work. After getting dressed, her mom bundled her into a winter coat—it was March and it was still cold in Windsor, Connecticut—and buckled her in a car seat next to her younger, two-year-old brother, Rohan. They pulled out of the driveway in their Ford Windstar minivan just before 8:00AM and headed toward her grandparents’ house—Priya’s grandma would often watch her little brother while her parents were at work and she was at school. Calmed by the vibration of the road, she absently gazed into the winter clouds, which painted the familiar landscape in a dreary gray, and their twenty-minute drive was over before she knew it.
They pulled into the driveway and her mom opened the two-car garage with her garage door opener. While her mom was getting Rohan out of his car seat, Priya was doing the same. Anita led the kids through the garage and into the house, but an eerie silence hung over the first floor. Their grandma was nowhere in sight. Priya watched her mom ascend the stairs, but then she froze. “Go! Go! Get out!” she yelled to her children. “Run, Priya, run!”
Uncertain where to go or what to do, she led Rohan back through the garage to the van, which was parked in the asphalt driveway. It was a typical workday—just another Thursday morning—and the neighborhood was buzzing with action. But they were at the end of Massow Lane, in a cul-de-sac, and no one was out. Priya looked around, hoping an adult would appear, hoping that someone could help her mother.
Scared and confused, she collapsed into sobs on the lawn. She was supposed to go to her Montessori school, see her friends and teachers, draw pictures and build towers out of blocks. But her sobs were answered only by the sounds of the neighborhood, so she dried her tears. Time moved so slowly. She worried that if her mom didn’t come out soon, she would be late. Would her friends still come to her birthday party that weekend?
Gathering some courage, she took her little brother’s hand and peeked into the house. There was no activity on the first floor. Her mother had disappeared upstairs. She was worried to go any further, remembering her mother’s panicked command, so she retreated again and walked around the house, searching for answers. She could see through a window on the second floor and caught a glimpse of her mom, but she wasn’t alone—a scary man wearing a puffy snow suit and a white ski mask had her in his grip. It became clear that this bad man was attacking her mother, and that she and her brother needed to flee before he found them too.
They shuffled down the sidewalk in their winter coats, making their way past the many similar 2-level ranch-style suburban homes, until they emerged, a quarter mile later, at Dudley Town Road, the main drag, which was busy with rush hour traffic. The cars loomed so large compared to their tiny bodies, tightening the ball in Priya’s stomach. She watched the traffic go by and waited for a lull, but a steady stream of cars prevented her from crossing the street and continuing on the sidewalk on the opposite side. So she traipsed through the front lawns of a few houses along the road, hugging the curb that protected her from the roaring cars.
It had been what felt like an eternity to Priya, and when the cold started sinking into her skin, she decided to start knocking on doors, hoping to find a helpful stranger. Around 9:00AM, 40 minutes after they had arrived in the minivan, she took her brother’s hand, looked both ways, and quickly crossed the busy street. She walked up to the door of the house in front of her, balled her small hand into a fist, and knocked softly.
Within moments, the door swung open, a woman stepped outside, bent over, and with apparent concern, asked them, “Are you alright?” Priya said quietly, “We’re lost... and a bad man took my mommy.”
Help arrives
In the hours, days, and weeks that followed, Priya’s memory swirled with mismatched versions of what her and her brother had witnessed that gray morning. She rehashed the story many times for people eager to extract every detail from her brain, because she was their biggest clue: Priya was the last person to see her mother alive.
Debbie Laramee, the woman who answered the door for Priya, was talking on the phone when she saw Priya and her brother on the neighbor’s lawn across the street. At first, she said, it looked as if they were playing, as the boy would run away and his sister would chase him. They were, quote, “holding hands and wandering.” She assumed that their parents were monitoring them from inside her neighbor’s house, but when they ran across the busy road, Debbie was alarmed. She kept her eyes on them as they approached the door and knocked. The relief she felt when she heard the “faint little knock” was quickly replaced with confusion once Priya began telling her jumbled story of what had happened that morning. Debbie had her hands full—she ran an in-home daycare—and so she had other kids to watch. But Debbie took the little girl’s fears seriously and contacted the police, calling 9-1-1 at 9:26AM.
The police arrived at Debbie’s quickly and they asked Priya to take them to her grandma’s home. Priya was scared of the flashing lights and refused to get in the cruiser. So they walked with her instead. Rohan stayed behind at Debbie’s home, coloring, as Priya and the officer retraced her steps back to 9 Massow Lane.
The home, a maroon and yellow raised-ranch style, built in the late 70s, sat on a tree-speckled cul-de-sac among a handful of similar houses. Priya had spent much of her five years there—enjoying Indian meals in the kitchen and playing with her grandparents on the spacious front lawn—but as they approached, Priya began to shake in fear.
Police officers entered the home shortly before 10:00AM, and immediately smelled smoke. There were two small fires burning: one in the kitchen, and one in the bedroom—neither of which were evident from the exterior. They called for help, and 3 firetrucks promptly arrived. They quickly extinguished the blazes, but made two grim discoveries: the lifeless body of Anita Patel... and Priya’s grandma, Champa Patel.
Champaben and Anita Patel Found Dead
Police wanted to keep Priya and Rohan safe while they were doing their work, so they took them to the Windsor Police Department. Priya was uncomfortable with the 1995 Chevrolet Caprice cruisers that the cops were using, so Debbie Laramee offered to drive her and her brother to the station instead.
To dot their i’s and cross their t’s, police secured a warrant to enter and search the home after the firemen had controlled the blaze.
Champaben Patel, who went by “Champa,” and her daughter, Anita, were discovered in what veteran police officers termed “one of the most gruesome scenes” they’d ever encountered. Champa was 54 and her daughter was 32 years old.
Police believed that Champa had been killed first. She was gagged and her hands were bound with duct tape behind her back. Cellophane was wrapped around her head and she was suffocated to death.
Police believed that Anita was killed next. First she was badly beaten. She then made it to the kitchen area where the killer retrieved 4 different knives from a kitchen drawer and a pair of scissors, to stab her 14 times. The scissors were left lodged in Anita’s back. It appeared that she nearly escaped—her bloody handprint was found on the handle of a sliding glass door. She was dragged through the house by her panty hose and a ring of gasoline was poured around her body and set on fire. The medical examiner said that she was still alive because she died of smoke inhalation, not the stab wounds.
Neither of the women were sexually assaulted and many valuables were left behind leaving many questions about the motive.
The fire marshal estimated, based on the progress of the fire when they had arrived, that it had been set between 9:00AM and 9:25AM—around the same time Priya and Rohan had arrived at Debbie’s house.
Police gathered from Priya that her mother had driven them over that morning. Priya told the police that the car was gone, and police put out an APB for the minivan—they presumed that it had been stolen by the assailant. At 10:45AM that morning police made a big discovery: the missing minivan was located. It was found abandoned but locked in the parking lot of Trinity Methodist Church, which was just five minutes away. They called in dog handlers for support. After they broke into the vehicle, they swabbed the driver’s seat with a piece of gauze, gave the scent to three bloodhounds and a German shepherd, and let them loose. They walked across the street to a wooded area, but after an hour, police led the dogs away without any luck. They towed the vehicle into police headquarters to be processed for evidence.
Around noon, Champa’s husband, 61-year-old Manji Patel, headed home from his auto-mechanics class to have lunch. He was a trained machinist, but was unemployed at the time and taking vocational classes. As he turned onto Massow Lane, he was shocked to discover police cars clogging his cul-de-sac and caution tape framing his lawn.
Until his arrival, police had only been able to gather information from Priya. She told them that the “bad man” that had attacked her mother was wearing what she described as black “snow stuff” and a white mask. When searching the house, police found a black snowsuit hanging from a pipe in the basement, as well as a white ski mask laying on a box nearby. Both items belonged to Manji, but Manji had a solid alibi. His classmates confirmed he had been with them up until the lunchbreak. Was it possible that the killer had put them on and taken them off in the house?
Manji Patel told police that the house was locked up when he left that morning. After the crime, the front doors were found locked, and the windows were secure. But a rear sliding glass door on the lower level was open, and a similar door on the main floor was closed but unlocked. A rear doorframe was bent and a screen was "off of its railing and leaning up against the door."
Manji provided police with contact information for Anita’s husband, Bharat, who went straight from his office to police headquarters to be with his children. Bharat, who also had a strong alibi, was also ruled out as a suspect.
Police continued collecting evidence throughout the afternoon, and captain Peter McDermott spoke with reporters. He did not yet disclose the victims’ names, but he said that the children involved were unharmed, adding that they likely did not witness any violence. He added that police had several leads, but were looking for more information from the public.
The next day—investigation continues
Police kicked Manji out of his home that night—they were still processing the crime scene. So he went to his deceased daughter’s home to be with her husband and the grandkids. That night they grieved the simultaneous loss of two generations of women in their family.
Early the next morning, police set up a roadblock on Dudley Town Road, the busy road that ran right in front of Champa and Manji’s neighborhood. They stopped drivers and asked them what they’d seen the previous morning. Police later told the press that they had picked up some useful information.
Manji and Champa’s neighbors were horrified by the crime. A woman who’d lived next door to them for 14 years told a reporter, “I never would have imagined something like this to happen here. Usually, this place is so quiet you could hear a pin drop.” She described Manji and Champa as a pleasant couple, and said she’d often seen them playing outside with their grandchildren. She didn’t recall hearing or seeing anything alarming the morning of the murders until the police showed up.
The medical examiner conducted autopsies on the two women’s bodies, confirming the causes of death: smoke inhalation for Anita and suffocation for Champa.
Police continued to ply Priya for more details, but they found it difficult to parse fact from fiction. In another account, she told the police that Anita was taken away in, quote, the “third seat of the van,” driven by the perpetrator. A white pickup truck with a brown stripe towing an enclosed trailer appeared in the driveway. When the bad man returned in the van alone, he took a black cage from the pickup and ordered Champa to get inside. The vehicles then left, taking her grandmother with them. This, of course, couldn’t be true because the bodies had been found inside the home. But police asked themselves: what kernel of truth could there be in the story that Priya had told?
The immediate aftermath in the family
Manji temporarily moved into Bharat’s house to be with his grandkids. He told a reporter (referring to Priya), "Something disappeared that day for her. That's my biggest loss... that somebody snatched their mom. I can deal with it... but they were helpless."
Priya’s birthday party was canceled, and what happened instead was something like a wake. As the news spread, dozens of other grief-stricken family members gathered at Bharat’s home, offering a solemn mix of condolences and birthday wishes to the now five-year-old Priya. Her father, Bharat, did his best to comfort her and Rohan, but it was a tumultuous time with many things to do.
On Sunday, March 24th, 1996, just 3 days after the murders, Champa and Anita’s bodies were cremated at the Carmon-Windsor Funeral Home. And it was there, just minutes from Champa’s home, at 11:00AM, that more than 300 people gathered to mourn the violent deaths of two beloved members of the Indian community.
The family devoured every morsel of information that the police provided, searching for answers. They pored over the strange facts of the case. Manji remembered locking up the house that morning, so how had someone entered without breaking in? What did it mean that the intruder had used weapons and a disguise from inside the house? And how would they even know where to find them?
The distraught family members hadn’t yet considered one important question: what if the killer was right there with them in the room?
Jatin “Jay” Patel
Jatin Patel, often called “Jay,” born in 1961, was the eldest of Champa and Manji’s three children. He was Anita’s older brother. He was described as smart and soft-spoken. He graduated from the University of Hartford in his early 20s, and married his wife, Seema, shortly thereafter. In 1986, a decade before the murders, Jay and Seema moved in with Champa and Manji in the Massow Lane home for four years. Jay later told police that, when they all lived together, that there were, quote, “differences in opinion between [his wife], Seema, and his mother about [the] kitchen and domestic things.” Other members of the family, however, believed the issues ran deeper than just cooking and cleaning disputes.
According to the Hartford Courant, in Hindu tradition, it is customary for a single checking account to be shared by an entire family. All working family members deposit their earnings into the account, and the father or the eldest son controls the money. He is responsible for providing for the needs of the family members and making major decisions.
Jay, the oldest son of the family, had been entrusted with handling the family finances.
In 1990, Jay decided to build a large, 5-bedroom, brand-new home for $300,000 (which is $680,000 in today’s money). The initial plan was for Jay, his wife, and his parents to move into the new home together. Jay and Seema were planning to have children soon, and he counted on his parents to help raise and care for their future kids. But Champa and Manji decided not to move. Jay’s younger sister, Anita, was pregnant at the time with Priya, and she discouraged her mom from moving further away from her. Although it was not reported, the friction between Champa and Seema also likely contributed to the decision. Champa was persuaded by Anita, so Manji and Champa decided to stay in their Massow Lane home, which put a great deal of financial strain on the family. Jay and Seema moved into the new home on their own, but Jay soon realized that they couldn’t afford to pay for the new mortgage and maintain the Massow Lane home, so he put their newly-constructed house on the market. He sold it a year later for a loss of $25,000. And instead of moving back in with Champa and Manji, he rented a small condo where he and his wife lived. In Jay’s own words, nothing was ever the same after this between he and his mom. And he blamed his sister for Champa’s change of heart.
Around this time, Champa opened her own bank account, departing from Hindu tradition. She worried that if anything were to happen to Manji, that her son wouldn’t be there to take care of her. So she started deposited all her earnings into her own account and accumulated $80,000 over the next 5 years. Jay was upset, and he talked to Manji about it repeatedly. "I didn't agree with what she was doing,” he later said. "I thought we were a family and there was no reason for her to do that. If she desired to do that, that was fine, [but] it was not my view."
In 1993, Jay and Seema had their first child, a boy named Devin, and it was at this point that Champa reentered their lives, helping to care for her second grandchild. She became the primary and sole babysitter for the young boy.
Anita, however, did not want anything to do with her brother. They avoided each other as much as they could and wouldn’t talk to one another during holidays. Police later noted that the rift between the siblings was so severe that in 1996, 4-year-old Priya likely wouldn’t have even recognized her uncle.
Jay becomes family spokesman
Despite Jay’s financial conflicts with his parents and sister, none of his family members expressed suspicion that he could have been the killer. He stayed with his father and his brother-in-law for 3 or 4 days after the murders, and they grieved together.
Police described the murders as some of the most gruesome they’d ever seen. It seemed impossible that such violence could have been inflicted by someone within the family—especially Jay, who was actively involved in the investigation. He’d shown up to the crime scene the day of the murders, and helped Manji and the police examine the house. Three days later, on Sunday, March 24th, he was one of over 300 people to attend Champa and Anita’s funeral service. He seemed to be as bewildered as anyone else, telling reporters:
"It wasn't like my mother or sister had many enemies. I don't know who would go out of their way to do this. Somebody had a motive, but I don't know who or why. We live in a society that is afraid to help when they see something wrong. People should be more aware. If they see something wrong, they should call the police. It may save somebody's life."
Jay seemed to be casting blame upon society at large for not noticing that Priya and Rohan were in distress. They were on their own for about an hour that morning—between 8:20AM when their mother arrived, and 9:26AM, when Debbie Laramee dialed 9-1-1. Though they were somewhat concealed behind hedges in a cul-de-sac for much of that time, there was at least 30 minutes where they were wandering the neighborhood by themselves.
Police didn’t think they would have to rely on the account of young Priya. After all, most murders have charges brought within the first week, and at first, Windsor Police believed that evidence would emerge to paint a clear picture of what had happened. Their initial instincts were that it was a burglary gone-awry, but as time went on, the physical evidence that they had hoped for didn’t materialize, and they were left only with their suspicions. Windsor Police Captain Peter McDermott said, “We believe it was someone who knew one or both victims.”
The Indian community rallies behind the victims
About three weeks after the murder, a small committee was formed to represent both the Patel family and the larger Indian community in Windsor. There were five members, four of whom were prominent community members, and one of whom was a member of the Patel family. Their mission was to support the investigation, rally the community at large, and raise awareness about the crime.
One committee member told the Hartford Courant, "We want the larger community to know this has been a devastating experience for the Indian community, particularly because it happened to these two gentle ladies. For such a thing to happen to two such nice people is hard for the community to accept.”
Another member said, "People's sense of security has been shaken. We are doing everything we can to make sure a suspect is brought to justice.”
Around the same time, Windsor Police announced that seven officers were working full time on the case, and to date, their staff had already spent 1,000 hours on the case.
Mysterious letters
In late April, five weeks after the murders, Windsor police received an anonymous letter in the mail. The author confessed that they had been hired to kill Champa and Anita. They said that they had been promised $10,000, but had only been paid $5,000. They fingered a woman in her 30’s who was in Champa and Anita’s extended family—a cousin of Jay’s.
The author used the pronoun, “we,” in their writing, suggesting that they weren’t just an individual, but a criminal organization.
In addition to the Windsor PD, the author also sent shortened versions of the same letter to local newspapers.
Police could not determine the origin of the letters, and they were skeptical of the story presented. They suspected that the killer was trying to reduce the heat on themselves by framing someone else in the family who had nothing to do with the murders.
Police forged ahead on their own investigation and told the press by this point that they had questioned over 1,000 people and processed 200 items in a forensic laboratory.
Largest reward in CT history
In order to aid police investigations and raise public awareness, the committee was able to offer a $150,000 reward for information that led to the capture of a killer. The announcement made quite a stir—it was possibly the biggest reward offered in Connecticut’s history. Of the decision to put forward so much money, Jay, who contributed $25,000 himself, said, “we've got to the point where we want to solve this crime. We know money can't bring back our family members, but if we catch the person who did it—that's the next best thing.”
Windsor Police Chief Kevin Searles said, "The reward produced a few phone calls within the first week or two, but none of the calls were able to help in any tangible way with the investigation.” And though they continued to work on the case, involving the FBI, Connecticut State Police, the U.S. Ambassador to India, and Interpol, he said they had no solid leads.
Summer of 1996
As the long days of summer stretched on, the Patel family adjusted to life without Champa and Anita. The Massow Lane house was repaired from the fire damage, but Manji wasn’t sure whether to move back in or sell it. Bharat and Jay were also considering moving. They thought getting out of the area might help give them some needed space. But Jay was conflicted—he said, “We could stay here and be depressed, or move and end up being more depressed.”
In August, police traveled to FBI headquarters in Virginia to develop a criminal profile of the suspects. Behavioral crime analysts believed that the murders were committed by someone who knew both women well. It’s unknown whether members of the family had started to suspect Jay by this time, but if they did, they hid it well. Jay, Manji, and Bharat continued to support each other throughout the summer’s investigations, and Jay seemed to be the family spokesman with reporters. In a July interview, he spoke on behalf of the family, saying, "We need to get rid of our anger, our bitterness. But we have no way to vent our frustrations. Maybe if they ever find the person responsible, it will give us all some closure.”
Jay was very vocal about his desire to find the killer. But as summer came to an end, a witness came forward with information that would begin chipping away at his troubled façade.
Church parking lot witness
That September, a woman testified under oath that she saw Jay get out of Anita’s minivan in the parking lot of Trinity Methodist Church, where the vehicle had been found. She’d been there to attend a 9:30AM quilting class, and had arrived 5 minutes early, at 9:25AM. Seated next to a window that looked out into the parking lot, the woman noticed cars pulling in. She glanced out to see who was coming to class, but there was a vehicle she didn’t recognize. It was a dark van that pulled into a row of spaces close to the street. Seconds later, another vehicle pulled in and parked next to the van.
A man got out of the van. She described him as clean shaven and dark-skinned, with dark hair combed over the top of his head. She estimated that he was 5’5’’ with an average build, and was wearing dark clothing.
Next, she said people emerged from the second vehicle, and one of them may have been a woman. She said they quote, “just kind of flew out of the car. There was a lot of talk and a lot of commotion. I had the impression they were all going on a picnic.” Their movement made it seem as though there were one or two children and the adults were trying to keep them from running around the parking lot. The adults corralled the kids into the second vehicle and took off, leaving the van behind. Police wondered if this could have been Jay meeting up with his wife, Seema, and his 3-year-old toddler, Devin.
But there were doubts about this witness. First, the 68-year-old woman gave police her account in September of 1996, 6 months after the murders took place. How did she remember with such clarity what would have been a seemingly routine day for her? Second, the police asked the quilting class on the day of the murder if anyone had seen anything. The woman later recalled,
"A woman police officer came into our classroom, but I didn't think anything of it, so I didn't say anything. Later on, I heard that a woman had been killed, and it kind of bothered me. I felt like I should call the police, but then I would forget about it. Every once in a while, I would remember [what I had seen], and it would bother me."
It was a strange explanation for the delay. Third, the woman was presented with a lineup and identified someone other than Jay. Police presented her with a photo array showing 41 people either part of or associated with the Patel family. The woman, with, quote “80% to 90% certainty,” identified a man, but she said there was a shadow on his face in the photo which made it difficult for her to be sure. The Windsor police chief returned with six additional photos of the man, and she raised her confidence estimate to 95%. That man, of course, was not Jay Patel. The chief recalled her becoming flushed and overwhelmed with the identification process, and commented, “What have I gotten myself into?”
The broad strokes of her testimony continued to support the timeline of the murders, but the devil was in the details.
Fall of 1996
In October of 1996, seven months after the murders, Bharat decided to move to New Jersey with Priya and Rohan, hoping that the change of scenery might aid in their healing process. The children were asking why their mom and grandma had to go, and Bharat believed it was his duty to give them an answer. He told a reporter in the fall, “I've got to tell the kids when they get older this is what happened... I need the answer so desperately." Around this time, Manji decided to put the Massow Lane house up for sale, and moved in with Jay, his wife, and their son.
In November, the Hartford Courant put out an interview with the Windsor Police Chief, Kevin Searles. He was consumed with the case. He had changed his computer’s desktop wallpaper to “SOLVE THE MURDER” in all capital letters. He told the reporter, "It's the toughest case I've ever worked on. There's just enough facts and circumstances that tells us we can solve it, but lacks that one [crucial] piece of evidence." He expressed his belief that someone in the family knew more than they were letting on. Detective Debra Swanson said, "If we have to talk to people for the rest of our careers, then that's what we'll do. We're not going to let it go.”
In December, renowned forensic expert Henry Lee was brought onto the case. He reviewed all the physical evidence in the case, and the chief seemed very optimistic that his expertise would soon lead to an indictment.
Searles said there were two members of the family who were not cooperating with police, and that he had cleared everyone else. Still, there was no public statement about exactly who in the family was under suspicion. Police wanted to ensure the killer would be properly charged when the time came. Searles said, “We're not just looking at an arrest. We are looking ahead to assure a successful prosecution.”
In the same article, Jay said that, after eight months, police should be expanding their search beyond the Indian community.
March 1997, one year later
By the spring of 1997, no new developments had been announced. On March 21st, the anniversary of the murders, the Hartford Courant published an article that captured the family’s anguish after a year. Priya was about to turn six, and according to her father, was still haunted by the horrors she witnessed that day. Bharat regularly woke in the middle of the night panicking, and would proceed to double check that all the doors and windows in the house were locked. All his hope was pinned on finding the killer. He was quoted saying:
“For the past year, it seems like I'm running in circles, that my life has no direction, no destiny, because [the case] is not solved. I am unable, now and then, to find myself; unable to make a commitment. It's as if my whole destiny depends on the outcome of this investigation.”
Jay, who was interviewed for the same article, expressed a more passive view of the situation, saying “we’ll just have to cross our fingers and wait.”
New details revealed
In the fall of 1997, a year and a half after the murders, the accounts of two witnesses were released to the press. The first witness said that they saw an empty school bus drop off a man on Dudley Town Road between 6:30AM and 7:00AM on the morning of the murders. They described him as dark-skinned and in his 30s, and they said he walked alone into Champa and Manji’s neighborhood. The other witness was walking her dog that morning, and confirmed the description of the man.
Around the time these details were released, police provided a more detailed theory of the morning to the public. Based on the evidence, they believed that Anita had stumbled upon an attack meant only for her mother. They also announced that linguistics and criminal justice experts had studied the three anonymous letters and they all believed that they were written by the killer.
Family files wrongful death suit
But it wasn’t until March 17th, 1998, nearly two years after the murders, that the public would learn the identity of the prime suspect. Bharat, Manji, and Anita’s sister, Parul, filed a wrongful death lawsuit against Jay seeking $9.3 million in damages. The statute of limitations was two years, so they filed it just in time.
The police had not yet charged Jay with any crimes, but the proof required for a criminal conviction—beyond a reasonable doubt—was much higher than the standard of guilt required in a civil trial.
Bharat told reporters, “It has taken us almost two years to come to this stage, but we believe he did it.”
He said that they had tried to resolve the matter within the family, and the public lawsuit became “a last resort.”
They alleged that money was at the heart of Jay’s motive to kill his mother and his sister. In the time that had elapsed since the murders, his family slowly discovered the extent of the financial issues he’d been hiding.
Financial motive?
Jay’s life didn’t seem to raise any red flags. He was married, had a young son, and had a stable job.
At the time of the murders, he was making a salary of $62,000 a year as an internal auditor at a large multinational HVAC company called Carrier. In addition to his 9 to 5, he also owned a company called “Guaranteed Returns”, which was an investment business. Though required by law, he had neither registered nor licensed it.
Jay promised his clients between 12 and 15 percent profit each year, with any excess earnings being his profit. In 1995, the year prior to the murders, he traded stock options actively—a notoriously volatile and risky type of investment—and he incurred substantial losses. In the 13 months before the murders, the balance of his investment account dropped from $182,000 to $41,000.
In addition to the woes he faced in his investment business, he had personally accumulated $45,000 worth of debt across eight credit cards. In addition to those cards, he had another 7 cards that were untapped, for a total of 15 lines of credit.
Authorities estimated that his net worth had plummeted from $300,000 to just $32,000 in the year leading up to the murders.
In addition to Jay’s financial trouble, police had revealed to the family that he was living a double life. Gabriel Gladstone, the flamboyant and famous leader of a Connecticut escort business told police that Jay was a regular client, soliciting women 3 to 4 times per week. Jay later told police that he had been doing, quote, “research,” to determine whether or not he wanted start a similar business of his own. He had even convinced one of the women to invest $8,000 with him.
But perhaps the most suspicious financial evidence that was revealed in the suit was that Champa had announced her intentions to remove Jay as a beneficiary from both her will and her $200,000 life insurance policy. Her death would prevent the changes from being made. She had already used some of her savings to purchase a treasury bond worth $90,000 and put it in Parul’s name.
According to Bharat, Jay had been considered “the smartest in the family.” No one expected Jay to have been so irresponsible with his investments. Except, perhaps, Champa.
The lawsuit alleged that by killing his mother, Jay would have prevented her from making changes to her will and her life insurance policy so that he would remain the beneficiary.
A flimsy alibi
But it wasn’t just the financial drama that made Jay’s family suspicious. Jay was the only family member who didn’t have a verifiable alibi during the time window in which the murders occurred.
According to Jay’s account, he woke up at 5:45AM that morning and drove to McDonald’s for breakfast. Instead of going to the one closest to his home in Farmington, he drove ten miles away to a McDonald’s closer to Hartford, passing two other McDonald’s on the way. Jay said he then drove across the street to a supermarket parking lot, where he parked his car so that he could read a software training manual and work on his laptop. For about 3 hours, he said that he sat in his car studying in the 35-degree winter morning. Though asked by police, he offered no explanation for why he wouldn’t have studied at home or at his office.
At 9:40AM, he said he left the supermarket parking lot and drove to his office, which was back in the opposite direction towards his home. His keycard was used at 10:00AM to enter his company’s office building, and at 10:30AM, he had a meeting with someone who later confirmed Jay’s attendance.
So how did Jay’s account stack up against the timeline of the murders?
At 7:30AM on that tragic Thursday morning, Manji left the house, leaving Champa alone. At 8:20AM, Anita arrived with her kids, and by that point the killer had arrived. A neighbor confirmed that Anita’s minivan was parked in the driveway at 8:30AM and noticed Priya crying outside.
Another witness, who pulled into the church right behind the minivan, arrived at 9:05AM. The church was only five minutes away, and assuming the killer drove straight to the church, that puts the departure time of the killer at 9:00AM. Which means that the timeframe in which Champa and Anita were killed was between 7:30AM and 9:00AM. And this timeframe sits right into the center of Jay’s 3-hour study session.
Other incriminating facts
In addition to the weak alibi, Manji recalled that, on Tuesday, two days before the murders, Jay had asked him “out of the blue” about Champa and Anita’s schedule for watching Rohan. Manji told him that it was on Tuesdays and Thursdays at 8:30AM. They were killed that Thursday morning.
There was some circumstantial evidence from the house, too. Police said that the gasoline that had been used to start the fires around the victims’ bodies was from a container that was already in the house. It was stored in the garage in a nondescript can that was labeled “disinfectant.” The killer must have had intimate knowledge of the house to know where to look for such a hidden accelerant. For example, someone that had lived there for 4 years from 1986 to 1990. Police also said that the duct tape that was used to bind both women was also taken from the garage and returned there.
Another key bit of circumstantial evidence was that the killer either had access to the house or was invited in by Champa because there was no sign of forced entry. Jay had a garage-door opener.
Though it was not evidence that could be used in a criminal proceeding, Jay and his wife both took and failed polygraph examinations. Seema was deemed “deceptive” when asked if she had knowledge of the homicides, and Jay was, too, when asked if he knew who killed them. Jay said that the results were bunk and that he and his wife had been set up by the police to fail that day.
If Jay had committed the murders, it wasn’t obvious to his colleagues who he encountered during his short workday. No one reported anything unusual about him or his behavior, and no one reported the smell of gasoline. And it wasn’t until that afternoon, when Jay received the call about the murders, that he appeared “visibly shaken.”
Though there was not enough evidence for police to arrest Jay, the family didn’t want to miss what could be their only chance to hold Jay responsible. He had twenty days to respond after the suit was filed.
Jay insists on his innocence
Jay was furious at his family, and perhaps even more furious with the police, who he was convinced had turned his family against him. He’d been encouraging the police to expand their search since the beginning, even though the evidence pointed to the perpetrator being someone close to the family. He told reporters: “It's been difficult fighting the police and their misrepresentation. All my family sees now is the police interpretation of the evidence.” Three weeks later, on April 9th, 1998, Jay filed a response to the suit in which he denied killing his mother and sister.
As the lawsuit unfolded, the fragmented family grew more distant. Jay moved with his wife and kids to Tennessee, and Manji moved back to India.
In February of 1999, almost a year after it was filed, the suit was settled. At the center of the suit was Champa’s life insurance policy. Jay was listed as the beneficiary and he had filed to collect the $200,000 policy on March 29th, 1996—8 days after her murder. The insurance company had refused to pay and the matter was stuck in legal purgatory for 3 years. In the settlement, Jay admitted no guilt but surrendered all of the life insurance proceeds to his father, Manji, less $70,000 in legal fees. Jay’s lawyer was paid $25,000 of those fees and the balance went to his family’s attorney. It was a far cry from the $9.3M that they had sued him for, but at least it was something.
Jay sues the police
In summer of 1999, with the civil suit in the rearview, the family decided to end the reward offer and return the money to the donors. They had said from the beginning that they would only offer the reward for three years. All of the donors got checks returning their donations with interest, including Jay, who had contributed $25,000.
By this point, Bharat seemed to have made peace with the uncertainty. In May of 1999, he was quoted saying: "It would be a relief to see the perpetrator put in jail. But lately, I'm learning to be happy either way, whether it is solved or not."
Jay, however, was less accepting of the state of the case. In June of 1999, he sued the Police Chief and the main detective on the case for libel, invasion of privacy, and violation of his civil rights. The damages he sought were unspecified, but were in excess of $15,000.
In the suit, Jay accused them of “concocted and disseminated false evidence in an effort to create hostility and mistrust among family members that would ultimately lead to false accusations against [him]." Jay also alleged that the two police officers had fabricated the confession letters that had been received by the police and newspapers.
Jay’s attorney said, quote, “In their unbridled zeal to solve a crime of which there are scant clues, they have raked [my client] over the coals and ruined his reputation."
Kevin said, "Mr. Patel has been a suspect in the double homicide and as such, he has been looked at closely. But there has been no attempt on our part to hurt him or his reputation.”
Montessori school, Anita’s legacy
While this final legal drama was unfolding, Anita’s sister, Parul, and other members of the community had been working to bring one of Anita’s dreams to life through the creation of a Montessori school.
Anita loved Priya and Rohan’s school, but it was limited to students ages 3-5. At the time of her death, she’d been researching how to establish a new school so that her children could stay in a similar program after aging out. Parul said, “It was my sister's dream to open a school [of her own]. She believed in the Montessori teaching practice... [and] if it wasn't for her tragic death, she would have finished what she had started.” With the help of other parents from Priya and Rohan’s school, Parul continued Anita’s mission. They received approval to move forward with the school, and in 1997, The Anita Patel School Montessori on the Green opened in Grace Episcopal Church in Hartford. A Japanese weeping cherry tree was planted to mark the occasion.
After several years, the school faced financial issues, but the founders were determined to keep it alive in Anita’s honor. As a way of renewing their promises, the organizers held a memorial dedication for both Anita and Champa in November of 1999. Family members and proponents of the school gathered on the church lawn on a cold Monday morning, tears heating their chilled faces as a seedling was planted and stones were laid in honor of the women. They sung verses of Sanskrit music while the bitter wind whispered along. As the ceremony concluded, a speaker was quoted saying "Out of something cruel, maybe something sweet is coming."
Anita’s family was grateful for the gestures. The school provided a welcome contrast to the dismal legal proceedings dragging on. In the lawsuit against Jay, Champa and Anita’s lives had been reduced to money. Since he’d yet to be charged by the police, the only punishment Jay faced was exclusion from the life insurance policy and damage to his reputation. The toll was incomparable to pain that Champa and Anita’s loved ones continued to endure.
Jay’s suit fizzles
In 2006, seven years after filing, Jay lost the civil rights lawsuit against the police chief and lead detective. A federal judge ruled that even if all of the evidence that Jay presented were true, it still wouldn’t amount to a hill of beans. The judge said that while police tactics may have been harsh, they never crossed any legal boundaries. Jay didn’t appeal the decision, and to this day, there have been no further lawsuits involving the case.
Nor have there been any criminal charges brought by the police.
DNA evidence, 12 years later
In October 2008, a local publication, called Windsor Locks, brought to the public the only major update in the case in the last 15 years. The reporter spoke to the Connecticut Cold Case Unit and they revealed that through new forensic testing, they had gotten DNA evidence. One of the anonymous confession letters had DNA from an unknown person. They ran it through CODIS, a huge national DNA database of known offenders, but they got no hits. They also ran it against any other unsolved crimes, and this revealed a match: there was an assault and robbery of a woman in the New Haven area, and the DNA of the suspect in that case matched the DNA from the letter.
Furthermore, the police said that they had ruled out anyone from the Patel family as a match for the DNA.
Looking back
It has been 25 years since the murders and the criminal case seems to have fizzled out. Is it possible that the murder had really been committed by a stranger? If it was, what could the motive have possibly been? Neither of the women were sexually assaulted, and nothing was stolen.
There are voids in the Patel family where Champa and Anita once were, and their loved ones have learned to live with the uncertainty surrounding their deaths. Bharat captured the feeling in a statement shared at the new school’s dedication ceremony: “Life is going on. Until the case is solved, it's a very big hole in the heart of my family.”
I can’t help but think of 31-year-old Priya today. She has lived her whole life with the terrifying knowledge from that awful morning.
On Friday, March 22nd, 1996, Priya woke up disoriented from what felt like a prolonged nightmare. Her fifth birthday had finally arrived. Her eyes adjusted to the morning light, searching for her mother. There was supposed to be a party... and presents and cake. But all she could find was her father’s sullen face. Reality began to set in—she soon realized that the foggy visions swirling in her mind were not dreams, but memories. The police cars, the yellow ribbon, and the cries of her family members had all been real, which meant the worst part must also be true: her mother and grandmother had been killed.
If you have any in information about the murders of Anita and Champa Patel, please contact the Connecticut Cold Case Unit at (860) 548-0606 or (866) 623-8058, or by email at cold.case@ct.gov.
A $50,000 reward is offered.
Note: The names of Anita’s children have been changed on this blog to protect their privacy.
Connect with Murder, She Told on instagram @MurderSheToldPodcast
Click here to support Murder, She Told
Sources For This Episode
Newspaper articles
Various articles from Daily Campus, Hartford Courant, Journal Inquirer, New Haven Register, Record Journal, The Republican, and Windsor Locks, here.
Written by various authors including Alaine Griffin, Alex Wood, Colin Poitras, Jack Dew, JoAnne Viviano, Joseph Rocha, Marie K Shanahan, Stan Simpson, and Steven Goode.
Photos
Photos from Google Maps and various newspaper articles.
Official documents
Court records from federal lawsuit, Jatin Patel vs Debra Swanson and Kevin Searles
Docket record, Federal Court District of Connecticut, Patel vs Searles and Swanson
2000-11-14, Federal Court District of Connecticut, decision on defendants’ motion to dismiss
2002-09-30, US Court of Appeals, 2nd Circuit, decision opinion on defendants’ motion to dismiss
2005-01-10, Federal Court District of Connecticut, Defendant motion for summary judgment
2005-01-10, Federal Court District of Connecticut, Defendant statement of material facts
2005-01-10, Federal Court District of Connecticut, Exhibit A-1, Authorization for financial records
2005-01-10, Federal Court District of Connecticut, Exhibit A-2, Memo to Patel family
2005-01-10, Federal Court District of Connecticut, Exhibit A-3, Letter from Debra Swanson to Seema Patel
2005-01-10, Federal Court District of Connecticut, Exhibit A, Affidavit of Debra Swanson
2005-01-10, Federal Court District of Connecticut, Exhibit B, Affidavit of Kevin Searles
2005-04-01, Federal Court District of Connecticut, Plaintiff memo in opposition to summary judgment
2005-04-01, Federal Court District of Connecticut, Plaintiff list of exhibits
2005-04-01, Federal Court District of Connecticut, Plaintiff response to statement of material facts
2005-07-20, Federal Court District of Connecticut, Defendant response to opposition memo
2005-07-20, Federal Court District of Connecticut, Defendant's list of exhibits
2005-09-15, Federal Court District of Connecticut, Plaintiff response
2005-09-19, Federal Court District of Connecticut, Judge's order
Credits
Vocal performance, audio editing, and research by Kristen Seavey
Co-written, research, and photo editing by Byron Willis
Co-written by Zoe Aarts
Research by Melanie Bray
Murder, She Told is created by Kristen Seavey