Transcript of The Big Reach

They saw one another almost every day, made eye contact and nodded in the morning, said goodbye with a smile at the end of the day. They were more than strangers but less than friends. That's because for nearly a month, they were jurors in a murder case, and each held a ringside seat to the biggest show in town. The one thing everyone seemed to be talking about.

I think the prosecutors did a wonderful job. I think the defense attorney was a little pompous, quite frankly.

Everyone, that is, except them.

It's like the second I told them I was on jury duty, I was going to be out of work for a while. They said, is it this case? It's like, no. People learned not to talk to me, and I didn't talk to them about it.

Now the lawyers on both sides had made their final pitches, and the case was theirs. The judge had given his instructions.

We were just ready. I mean, the minute we got in that room, we went, oh good, now we can talk to each other.

It was an amazing jury, a group of wonderful people, smart, intelligent, that worked very hard to do their very best.

There was a brief moment of spontaneous chatter. Before jurors got down to the business of picking a foreperson. Then, instead of taking on the question of guilt or innocence, they discussed the issue that seemed central to this case. Did Todd Sommer die from arsenic poisoning?

We needed to make sure that we all agreed on that or not, because if he didn't, then there's no case.

On that, they were unanimous.

We went through every single witness. I mean, we all had our notes. I mean, I had 4 notebooks.

Some of the expert witnesses they liked.

I do think he was a knowledgeable guy.

Some they did not like.

I kind of took what he said with a grain of salt.

And some of the testimony they simply dismissed.

Because we didn't have enough. There wasn't enough there.

On a wall covered in butcher's paper, they listed lies and inconsistencies. They discussed the defendant, Cindy Summer, her behavior, her sex life, and her finances, both before her husband died and after.

The trust fund running out was a big issue, not necessarily just for breast implants, but for her. I mean, she liked to spend money. It was obvious.

And they talked at length about the one piece of evidence they did not have.

They didn't really come up with a real solid link to her with the arsenic.

No, but you can buy arsenic anywhere.

It went on like that for 2 days, and then on the 3rd day, they voted.

It was a blind vote.

So a secret ballot?

Yes.

Yes. In this episode, you'll hear what that verdict was.

The jury came in and you couldn't tell one way or another.

You will hear the reactions of those who spent years working on this case.

It proved to me one thing. You may not win a case in jury selection, but you can certainly lose it in jury selection.

And you will hear how this story took a shocking turn, one that proves an old adage, one that's known to crime writers everywhere. And it is this: there is only one plot. Things are not what they appear to be.

Yeah, I think people are always going to believe what they're going to believe regardless of whatever. Anything anyone says to them. There are always people that are going to believe that the moon's made of cheese.

I'm Josh Mankiewicz, and this is Trace of Suspicion, a podcast from Dateline. Episode 5: The Big Reach.

Please remain seated.

It starts now in session.

This was the moment they had all waited for. The defendant, the attorneys, the press, and those fixated by this scene. It was a moment of high drama.

I'm surprised that more lawyers don't have heart attacks while they're waiting for jury verdicts.

That is Prosecutor Laura Gunn, who spoke with me shortly after the trial ended.

There was such intense scrutiny of this. My whole family was following it. I had been working on it for 2 years. The trial took a full month. It mattered a great deal.

Judge Peter Detta took his seat, and then for 2 excruciating minutes, nothing happened.

We're bringing in the jury right now, so that's why there's a little bit of a delay.

I was very nervous.

Jury's done aiding and helping.

Everyone rose. Cindy Summer, her hair pulled back in a ponytail and wearing a dark pinstripe suit, watched the jury file in. Her face showed no emotion. Judge Ditta smiled.

Good morning, ladies and gentlemen of the jury.

Good morning.

It's my understanding that you have reached a verdict.

Yes.

All right.

Juror number 4, could you please hand that folder to my bailiff?

You know, you can try to read juries coming in, but I've had such bad experiences both ways with trying to guess that I don't even try to guess anymore.

Verdict. We, the jury, find the defendant Cynthia A. Summer guilty of the crime of murder of Todd Summer.

Cindy stared vacantly as Judge Detta continued to read from the verdict form.

And we further find that guilty of murder for financial gain.

Guilty of murder by the administration of poison. This is what Cindy said the next day. To a reporter from NBC affiliate KNSD.

When he read it, I, I just felt like I was going to pass out, like tunnel vision, and I started sweating and anxiety attack.

When her lawyer Bob Udell heard the verdict, he slumped back in his chair as if stunned.

Later, he told reporters, there's nothing we did that I wish we hadn't done, and there's nothing we didn't do that I wish we had.

A few feet away at the prosecution table, there was a palpable sense of relief.

We were very relieved that the jury had done the right thing and seen the case as we saw it.

Cindy was frog marched out of the courtroom in handcuffs. Prosecutor Laura Gunn met briefly with jurors and then with reporters who had gathered for a press conference.

Your reaction now?

Well, um, well, I'm so glad that Todd Sommer's family has justice finally for the death of their son.

Gunn told the reporters that even though the case against Cindy Sommer was entirely circumstantial, she and others in the San Diego District Attorney's Office had felt it was their duty to take it to trial.

This is a case that absolutely needed to be, you know, tried. We knew that, that we would be entering into a hard-fought battle, but in the end, you know, we had strong evidence and we were happy with the result.

Any indication about which argument resonated most with the jury?

They didn't spend a lot of time worrying about whether the arsenic was there or not there. They seemed to accept fairly early on that it was there. And once you accept that, all the rest of it just falls into place because really there is nobody else.

Laura Gunn may well have walked away from the courthouse that day thinking case closed. Well, Cindy Summer was not about to go away quietly. Her name was still at the top of every newscast and would be for at least the next 48 hours. So she let it be known she was willing to talk. To tell her side of this story to any reporter who wanted to bring their cameras to the San Diego County lockup.

I really want to let everyone know that this really can happen to them. Innocent people go to prison for life, and that's a scary thing.

There were conditions, of course. Those were fixed not by Cindy, but by her jailers. All conversations would have to be done through a plexiglass window via a phone hookup. And the jailhouse staff would be listening in. Cindy was fine with all of that.

I didn't think that they would ever come back with a guilty verdict. I don't know how they did. I think that they just took NCIS's word and said, you know, well, they've investigated for this long and they must be right.

As for the salacious slurry chock-full of her personal behavior after her husband's death, Cindy told reporters that had been her way of coping. A manifestation of her desire to avoid dealing with some monolithic grief.

Until you're in someone's shoes, you don't know how you would respond. I started drinking, and that was my priority. I didn't want to be in the house. My husband died there, and I wanted to be as far away as possible. And I didn't want to be sober. I don't want to be sober right now.

Coverage of first the trial and then Cindy's jailhouse charm offensive did have an impact on public opinion. Jurors said shortly after they delivered their verdict, some began hearing critical sniping from friends and neighbors. The comments on social media were brutal.

This has really been a horrible experience, and I hate to say that because I was very excited to do it. I thought, you know, this is my civic duty.

That is Wendy Alton, one of the jurors I spoke with after the trial.

It really makes me kind of sad the way that the jury's been treated. So it's kind of like, I feel like we've been convicted and all we did was our best, you know. You're talking about the public reaction after the verdict, and it was so surprising to all of us. I mean, I was completely shocked when they couldn't believe our verdict and, um, I mean, I was like, what?

Prosecutor Laura Gunn was hearing some of that same criticism. Here she is speaking at a press conference weeks after the trial ended.

This is a case that has generated a lot of attention. Uh, I think some people regard the defendant as somebody who's sympathetic. She's a mother, she's a female, and it's not uncommon in a case like this to have people who disagree with the verdict, whatever it happens to be.

Even Judge Detta heard from people who had watched the trial on TV and wanted to weigh in.

Since the verdict in this case, I've received probably 50 letters and emails.

That's Judge Dettah.

These are essentially letters and emails encouraging me to do one thing or the other with regard to the verdict, either uphold the verdict or reverse the verdict.

It was during those days of public pushback that Cindy Sommer decided to fire her lawyer, Bob Udell. After all, it had been his blunder that opened the door and allowed the prosecutor to use Cindy's private life as almost corporal punishment in front of the jury. Looking back, Cindy told me she knew Bob Udell was not the guy she wanted working to overturn her newly minted conviction.

I just thought, I'm gonna fight for 20 years before I can even see daylight again. I'm gonna just die fighting, trying to get out of here, knowing that I didn't do anything.

So 6 weeks after her conviction, Cindy's family hired a prominent San Diego criminal attorney named Alan Bloom.

I think this case should have been about facts. That's what a trial is supposed to be.

That is the voice of Alan Bloom.

This case should be about evidence, and before you're going to send somebody to prison for the rest of their lives, you should have facts to support it.

Bloom told Cindy she had a strong case and should have been acquitted. If he'd handled the case from the beginning, he said, she would have been acquitted.

What did Mr. Udell not do that he should have done?

He didn't find out about the, uh, the tremendous holes that existed in the prosecution's case as it related to the evidence here. Which has to do with the arsenic testing. They came up with results to show arsenic in amounts that has never, ever been able to be found in the history of arsenical testing before.

What Cindy needed, said Bloom, was a new trial, a do-over. In golf, a mulligan. And Bloom knew getting a court to throw out a conviction is a lot harder than finding a lost ball in some high weeds. However, it is not impossible. Bloom had an idea that might work, but it would require the man he just replaced to make an enormous sacrifice.

Whatever happens with my reputation will happen.

When Bob Udell flew home after the Cindy Summer trial, he might have thought he'd be able to relax, maybe take a long walk on the beach and let the South Florida sunshine wash over him. He did not. Udell had a hangover that would not quit. A trial hangover, that is. He simply could not stop thinking about the Summer case, thinking about the things he did and did not do. Most of all, he could not stop thinking about his now former client, Cindy Summer. She was very likely to spend the rest of her life in prison. To Udell, the guilt was not hers. It was his.

I've had a hole in my heart. I haven't been paying attention to my wife, my children, my clients, my practice.

I sat down with Bob Udell a few months after the trial ended.

You told me you had trouble sleeping.

I've had trouble sleeping. I was ready today to give up the practice of law and go sell donuts.

He acknowledged he had made plenty of mistakes in the trial, and Bob told me he'd felt like a fish out of water in California. He wasn't familiar with the evidence code, he mispronounced the name of a town, and he thought the jurors didn't like him. According to online comments made by some of the jurors, He was right about that.

They thought I was an animated jerk. They commented upon my glasses and my faces that I make. Jury hated me. They didn't want to hear a word that I had to say and blew us off.

Slumped in the courtroom, Udell had been bewildered at the trial's outcome. There had been not one scrap of evidence presented that linked Cindy to arsenic. And yet, and yet—

The errors I made were because I was so sure she was not guilty and was so convinced the jury would see it that there were things that should have been done that I didn't do. I tried this case with my heart instead of my head.

So that was where Bob Udell's head was when one day his phone rang. On the other end of the line was Cindy's new lawyer, Alan Bloom. He wanted Udell's help in getting Cindy a new trial. He had questions. Why didn't you push back harder on the arsenic evidence? Ask for DNA testing to verify that the tissues tested were actually Todd Summers? And why didn't you point out holes in the chain of custody where the tissues might have become lost or contaminated? Alan Bloom.

If Bob Udell had gone to the point, you would have found out that these huge holes in the testing process left it situations where you don't even know where the tissues have been.

Bob Udell had no good answers, and over time, the two lawyers recognized the obvious. The best way to get Cindy a new trial was to argue in their motion that she had received a subpar defense. Ineffective assistance of counsel is the legal jargon for that.

Her first attorney was so convinced of her innocence, it was almost as if he felt that he was so sure that she wouldn't be convicted that he failed to do some of the things that should have been done.

Bob Udell did not have to think twice. Yes, he said, count me in.

Whatever happens with my reputation will happen.

How difficult was it for you to essentially argue, "I didn't do a good job. I should have done more"?

Well, it's always easy to tell the truth. I made some errors.

The new strategy was, and it's hard to overstate this, a very big reach. "Her attorney did a bad job" is almost never a strong enough argument to win in an appellate court. That was only one approach Allan Bloom was prepared to take. Shortly after the trial ended, some of the jurors and alternates turned on each other, leveling accusations of improper behavior both inside and outside of the jury room.

I know that one alternate juror who was on the case the whole time, did not deliberate, has come forward to say that she heard two of the jurors discussing some parts about the case when they shouldn't have been.

If true, that made Bloom's case a little stronger because jurors are specifically told by judges not to discuss cases until it's time to deliberate. And that was not the only disturbing allegation of misconduct by a juror.

And then there was one juror who was a retired police officer who never revealed to anybody that he had learned that Cindy had fought extradition in Florida. And his comment to this alternate juror right after the case was over, they're literally walking away from the courtroom, So it's not as if he could have gotten this information after his job was over. He said, and if— did you know that she had fought extradition and that delayed it 4 months? And if you were really innocent, then why wouldn't you have come back to San Diego right away to fight the case?

And that was not ever introduced at trial.

That's correct. It was not introduced at trial, and for a reason. The reason is that when she was in Florida, the lawyer there— the lawyer looked at this case in Florida and said, this case is so empty. Is so full of holes, I think that we can actually attempt to convince the San Diego people not to prosecute you at all.

So that's what she was doing, not fighting extradition.

Right.

Let's assume that what the alternate juror says is absolutely true. What's the significance?

Well, the significance is that the jurors didn't do what they should have done. If that's true, then the jurors deliberated and talked about the evidence when they shouldn't have. And in one case, at least one case, one juror, he considered evidence that he shouldn't have.

Is that enough to get a new trial?

Maybe.

Maybe.

The jurors I talked with back then said they saw nothing improper taking place in the jury room.

One of the other alternates said that one of the jurors was arguing points of the case before the case was over.

That the case got talked about before it didn't happen.

That's the voice of juror Linda Godoy.

Didn't happen. We talked about everything but, oh gosh, everything.

Our children, the weather, trips, clothes, shoes, shopping.

Did the retired police officer ever talk to you guys about the case before deliberations began?

No. No.

Didn't say that Cindy had, uh, had to be extradited from Florida?

No.

No.

The first time I heard about that was an email he sent Long after the 2 or 3 weeks, 2 or 3 weeks after the trial, he sent an email and that's when he brought it up. My thing about, you know, the accusations, I mean, I found them extremely hurtful because I didn't talk to anybody.

Hurtful or not, if there was even a teaspoon of truth in those allegations, Alan Bloom thought he might have a shot at getting Cindy a new trial. Finally, in mid-November 2007, Alan Bloom and Cindy were side by side back in Judge Detta's court, this time for a dismissal motion based on jury misconduct.

During the trial itself, did you at any time read or watch any news stories about the Summer case or, or look the case up on the internet?

I did not.

That is prosecutor Laura Gunn questioning the retired police officer who had served as juror number Did you ever discuss the case with your fellow jurors during breaks or out in the hallways?

No, ma'am.

Did you ever say anything about the defendant fighting for extradition?

Uh, no, I did not.

How certain are you about that?

I'm 100% certain.

The juror told the court he did not learn of Cindy's extradition fight until weeks after the trial was over. It was only then, he said, that he mentioned it in an email to the other jurors. Here he is reading that email in the court hearing.

If anyone went back and read any of the news accounts of this incident, you would have discovered that Cindy fought extradition to California from Florida. This added about another 4 months in custody. If she really wanted to tell the world she didn't do this, she would have waived extradition and caught the next flight to San Diego.

After that, Judge Detta made his ruling. He denied Allan Bloom's motion for a new trial on the grounds of juror misconduct. It was one more courtroom defeat for Cindy Summer, who went straight back to the lockup. All Bloom had left now was a hearing on his motion for a new trial on the grounds that Bob Udell had been an ineffective advocate for Cindy. The big reach, maybe the biggest. With her formal sentencing now less than 2 weeks away, time was running out. When Bob Udell returned to San Diego in late November 2007 for Cindy's formal sentencing, he was, by his own admission, a broken man. His former client was looking at a life sentence. Bob was there to try to stop the sentencing by appearing in support of Cindy. Court of a last-ditch motion to get Cindy a new trial. His job: tell Judge Ditta he had been an incompetent lawyer.

If Cindy were guilty, it might be a different story, but she's not. She didn't kill Todd.

Is it humiliating to stand in a courtroom and say, 'I screwed up'?

It's not humiliating. I've tried Over 100 cases. So I screwed up one of them. Unfortunately, I screwed up one where the client was innocent.

When the time came, Bob Udell took the stand and swallowed a generous portion of humble pie without any sugar coating. He confessed his errors. And said Cindy had deserved a better defense than the one he provided. I was in the courtroom that day not because I thought Cindy and Alan Bloom would win that motion. I knew they had pretty much zero chance of that. I was there because many, if not all, the participants in this case would be in the same room at the same time, and many had not yet agreed to appear on Dateline with me. I was there to persuade them to change that. I wore a nice suit and tie, I remember. I was trying to look presentable. I sat 3 or 4 rows back in the gallery, waiting for this to be over so I could start introducing myself to the people we were trying to book for Dateline. Then the judge started speaking, and I was waiting to hear him say the motion for a new trial was denied. I listened, and I thought to myself, wow, if I didn't know better, I would think he just threw out Cindy's conviction and ordered a new trial.

Of course, I knew I had to be wrong. Then I glanced over at the prosecution table. Their mouths were hanging open in literal astonishment, like someone who had won the lottery, or in this case like someone who had won it and then lost the ticket in a windstorm. And then, just like that, the judge banged his gavel and Cindy Summers' murder conviction was vacated. A new trial ordered. Alan Bloom was smiling. Cindy looked stunned, at least for the instant I saw her face. She was returned to custody pending trial number 2. That moment is crystal clear in my mind. I had never seen anything like it before or since. 20 years later, it's Cindy's memory that's a little foggy.

I don't remember, and I don't remember anything else about those things.

I look over at you, and you have your eyebrows up.

And I look over at the prosecution, And they must have had just the look of dread.

They looked like they'd been tased. They were like— they looked stunned.

Yeah.

And then the hearing ended, and they were furious.

Oh, I bet.

On the other hand, Bob Udell and Allan Bloom were grinning from ear to ear.

We're finally outside of a hole, and I'm breathing fresh air. The fact that she has a second chance is something which is very good.

This just doesn't happen.

Not usually. Not usually.

How'd you do it?

Well, this is a very unique case. As the judge said, the evidence in this case that the prosecution has is very thin, razor thin.

For Bob Urdahl, that ruling of a new trial for Cindy felt as if a huge weight had been lifted.

Judge Dettis' decision may have restored my faith in the criminal justice system, and maybe I will continue practicing.

And your faith in yourself, maybe?

I've never doubted that I'm a good lawyer in the sense that I care, and that's 95% of being a lawyer. I'm certainly not the most eloquent lawyer. And I have mannerisms that some jurors just don't like. But no, I haven't lost any faith in my ability. I tried my hardest. I just— I just got too close to the case.

But now she's got another chance.

Absolutely. And that's the only thing that mattered.

Over the next few months, attorneys for Cindy Sommer and the San Diego District Attorney's Office dug into those old files. Preparing for round 2. It was then that an astonishing discovery was made, one that would ultimately turn this rematch into no match at all. Next time.

I happened to be standing on the number 17 hole at Balboa Golf Course, and I get a call from the court clerk I got a clerk saying that the judge is going to conduct a hearing in 30 minutes. Do I want to be present?

I knew all along that the testing was wrong, and I was just waiting for that to come out.

And it reminded me of Bart Simpson who gets his hand stuck in the cookie jar. I didn't do it. Nobody saw me do it. Can't prove a thing. It's funny when Bart Simpson does it, but when you're holding somebody's life in your hand, it's not about stealing a cookie.

This podcast is a production of Dateline and NBC News. Tim Beecham is the producer. Marshall Housefeld, Brian Drew, and Meredith Kramer are audio editors. Molly DeRosa is associate producer. Rachel Young is field producer. Adam Gorfain is co-executive producer. Paul Ryan is executive producer, and Liz Cole is senior executive producer. From NBC News Audio, sound mixing by Rich Cutler.