Republished by permission of
Hartford Courant
(ct.now)
A Safe Haven Turns
Deadly
By JOHN SPRINGER
Hartfort Courant staff writer
February 6, 2000
TORTOLA, British Virgin Islands --
Pulling a new, white Versace blouse over
her shoulder-length blonde hair, Lois Livingston McMillen
was upbeat as she
dressed for a night of music and dancing on this tropical
island paradise
she loved so much.
The 34-year-old daughter of affluent parents from
Middlebury, Conn., Lois
was getting over the flu on the evening of Jan. 14. She
looked forward to
capping a day of boutique shopping with listening to a
blues band at one of
the many resort hotels near her family's villa
overlooking the Caribbean
Sea.
``Lois wasn't happy too often . . . That was a very
happy day,'' said her
father, Russell G. McMillen, retired chairman and CEO of
The Eastern Co. in
Naugatuck.
It would be her last.
Lately, Lois had become frustrated with her career as
an artist. An art show
in New Milford brought in more than $10,000 in 1993, but
she had trouble
selling paintings after that. At times, her mood went
dark.
Lois was a paradox. She was quiet and had few friends,
but she frequently
dressed in flamboyant outfits that commanded, ``Look at
me!'' She once went
out wearing a tiara and a dress adorned with angel wings.
A fairy godmother
wand completed the look.
``She was shy socially,'' Russell McMillen said. ``She
didn't look shy
because she dressed colorfully, but she would only talk
to one or two people
she knew; she didn't mix around.''
Lois' paintings showed her spirituality and her
disillusionment with a world
in which she didn't quite fit. She would paint in her
parents' basement in
Middlebury or on the deck of the island villa. An
unfinished canvas at the
villa combined a Queen of Hearts playing card, stars and
crescent moons and
a page from the Old Testament that was torn in two.
``It has something to do with death. She never got a
chance to explain it to
me,'' Russell McMillen said.
Lois' art reflected her strong feelings about violence
against women, a
concern that became more pronounced while she studied at
the Parsons School
of Design in New York City, where she earned a degree in
1996. Her painting
``The World Is Killing Women'' is full of symbols of
death, tear- filled
female eyes and a bare breast pierced by a sword.
The McMillens feared that Lois' concern about violence
was growing to the
point of paranoia. Ironically, she felt safe on Tortola,
her haven in a
violent world.
On that mid-January night, happier than usual, Lois
stepped out under the
star-filled sky and headed to the Jolly Rogers Inn on the
other side of the
island.
Sailboats And Yachts
The main road leading west out of Road Town, the British
Virgin Island's
capital in the heart of Tortola, winds its way along the
picturesque south
coast of the island for 10 miles before ending at the
Jolly Rogers Inn.
The island has no traffic lights, but drivers are
forced to slow for speed
bumps, rockslides and donkeys that nibble the grassy
shoulders of the
well-worn road. First-time tourists can find themselves
gazing at the cruise
ships that dot Sir Francis Drake Channel and miss seeing
the bumps as they
cruise through the coastal hamlets en route to the West
End ferry dock or a
resort at Soper's Hole Wharf, where sailboat charters
start at $2,000 a
week.
It's easy to get caught up in the shoreline's beauty
and forget to drive on
the left side of the road, the British way. Beyond a bend
in the road past
Frenchman's Cay, the location of yet another marina is
betrayed by masts
that look from a distance like toothpicks.
Sailing, snorkeling, fishing and scuba diving are big
draws for the British
Virgin Islands, where the Caribbean trade winds propel
million-dollar yachts
and soothe the spirits of the 250,000 annual visitors not
accustomed to
year-round midday temperatures in the high 80s. Lois
learned to sail in 1998
and was looking forward to crewing in a regatta in April,
working a
spinnaker or some such thing, her parents thought.
As is true of most any Saturday during the peak
tourist month of January,
Sir Francis Drake Channel was filled with pleasure boats
on the morning of
Jan. 15. A young Tortolan woman was distracted from the
natural beauty
surrounding her by something truly ugly as she walked to
work at Soper's
Hole Wharf about 8:30 a.m.
There, on the large rocks that had been trucked in to
curb erosion, lay Lois
McMillen's battered, lifeless body.
Murder Charges
A restless night at the villa worrying about their
long-overdue daughter
turned into day before Russell and Josephine McMillen
finally reported her
missing. They called the Royal Virgin Islands police at
10 a.m. on Jan. 15.
It was rare for Lois to stay out much later than she
told them she would,
even rarer not to call if her plans changed.
Lois had lived with her parents for the last couple of
years in Middlebury,
having suspended her pursuit of an acting and modeling
career in favor of
cultivating her artistic talent. Lois and her parents
went to Tortola on
Dec. 30 aboard a flight from Windsor Locks to San Juan
and on to St. Thomas, where a ferry took them to the West
End dock.
The McMillens told police that Lois left the Belmont
Grove Villas in a
rental car at 9 p.m. the night before and that they had
not heard from her
since.
``We started thinking maybe she was in a car accident,
that she was lying in
a ditch somewhere,'' Josephine McMillen said. ``We were
getting worried.''
Meanwhile, officers were busy 2 1/2 miles away, taking
statements and
photographing the body. They were not too busy to
dispatch someone to the
McMillens' home. Ten minutes after the parents called,
police officers were
inside Belmont Grove Villa No. 4.
In the days after their daughter's death, the
McMillens learned little from
investigators. They knew that suspects were being
detained and that their
daughter had been beaten severely on the head and face
and left on the
rocks, a few hundred yards from a police substation. An
autopsy revealed she
had drowned.
Forensic evidence recovered from Lois' rented
four-door car, found parked at
the taxi-ferry terminal a mile from her body, was
carefully collected by
major crime squad inspectors, who quickly focused on four
men staying in a
villa near the McMillens.
On Jan. 19, police filed murder charges against
36-year-old law student
Michael Spicer of Charlottesville, Va., whose family owns
the villa where he
was staying, and three of his American houseguests. Also
charged with murder
are Evan S. George, a 22-year-old construction worker
from Washington, D.C.; William Labrador, 36, a
businessman from New York; and Alexander Benedetto, 34,
an ex-U.S. Navy Seal who worked at a New York children's
book publishing company. Spicer's Road Town lawyer and
family refused comment.
Other than disclosing that Lois was neither sexually
assaulted nor
apparently the victim of a robbery, investigators would
not share with the
McMillens what they believe prompted the killing.
``I really cannot tell you much. We operate under the
English legal system
here,'' said John Johnston, deputy commissioner of the
177-officer Royal
Virgin Islands Police Department. ``Our legal system
doesn't allow us, the
police, to make comments on evidence or investigations,
other than bland
statements that something happened and someone was
arrested. The theory
behind it is that a person is innocent until proven
guilty.''
The McMillens hope to learn more about possible
motives during the British
equivalent of a probable cause hearing before Magistrate
Gail Charles on
Feb. 23.
In the meantime, the tight clamp on official
information has not stopped
locals and visitors from speculating over rum-rich island
cocktails called
Painkillers.
Fast-driving taxi cab operators spread rumors about
what happened, from the
Beef Island airport to the West End spots Lois
frequented. Some of the
rumors are true, most wild speculation. Stories about
Lois having been the
victim of rape or a lovers' spat or being robbed of
$5,000 before she died
are simply not true, her parents say.
The territory, made up of some 60 islands, had only
four homicides during
the past five years, most attributed to domestic
disputes. Tourists turn up
dead on the U.S. Virgin Islands from time to time, but
rarely in the British
Virgin Islands, which bills itself as ``Nature's Little
Secrets.''
``I've been trying to figure this thing out ever since
it happened. It
doesn't make any sense,'' said Christopher Crawford, an
American whose
self-described ``low overhead'' lifestyle enables him to
split his time
between Martha's Vineyard and Tortola.
``Why would four guys want to kill Lois? There is no
indication of rape or
robbery that we know of,'' Crawford said. ``It's
strange.''
Lois was seated at the outdoor bar at Jolly Rogers Inn
when Crawford sat
down next to her. She seemed her usual self that evening,
he said, a little
pale perhaps from her recent bout with the flu. Nothing
appeared to be
bothering her. On this occasion, she was not giving
anyone an earful about
any of the causes she felt passionately about, typically
the only time she
opened up to anyone outside the zone of safety she let
few enter.
When Crawford last saw Lois, she did not have a lot to
say or drink; the
occasional wine or beer was all. She never took drugs or
drank to excess,
her parents and Tortolan acquaintances said.
``Everyone local here knew Lois real well. She came
off as self-centered,
but I think she was misunderstood,'' said Crawford, an
acquaintance of 10
years. ``Lois was a loner, but she craved recognition.
She dressed
flamboyantly, but she wasn't good in one- on-one social
situations.''
`It's Weird, Very Sad'
Lois felt really safe from unwanted attention only at
Bomba's Shack, a
beachfront watering hole featured in Sports Illustrated
and international
magazines. At Bomba's, women get free rum punches for
baring their breasts
and autographed T-shirts in exchange for their panties,
which are hung
throughout the establishment like trophies.
That Lois would frequent a place where women are
encouraged to degrade
themselves in such ways is yet another unaligned square
in the Rubik's Cube
that was her life.
Owner and chief bouncer Charles ``Bomba'' Wellington
Callwood Smith, a 54-
year-old Tortolan with a large frame and straightforward
manner, said he
looked after Lois. She often visited his ramshackle bar,
made of wood
scavenged from a variety of places, for the regular
Wednesday and Sunday
barbecues or famous ``Full Moon'' parties each month that
drew locals and
tourists.
``We understand each other pretty clear, you know? She
was real close to me.
I was like her big brother,'' said Bomba, who gives a
different surname if
asked twice. ``What I liked about Lois was she wasn't
looking for a guy when
she come here. She was looking for someone to talk to.''
Bomba added: ``I knew her when she wore braces on her
mouth; she was 17. I have always looked out for her
since. I'm sorry something like this happened
to her.''
Bomba last saw Lois at the Wednesday barbecue on Jan.
12. A reggae/calypso band was playing and patrons enjoyed
as much ribs, chicken and rice as they could pile on a
plate for $10. It was at the barbecue that she ran into
Spicer, an investment property manager whom she knew from
visiting the island for many years. Lois' parents said
Spicer introduced her at Bomba's
to Labrador, George and Benedetto, Spicer's friends and
now co-defendants.
The foursome and Lois went to a popular Road Town pub
called Pusser's for
chicken wings the next night, a Thursday, but the
McMillens heard little
about the evening. They knew of no plans by her to see
Spicer or his
houseguests on the night she was killed, and no messages
were left for Lois
when she returned from the day trip to St. John with her
mother, who paid
$300 at a Caneel Bay shop for the Versace blouse, slacks
and wide-brimmed
hat that made her daughter so happy.
``It's weird, very sad. Who would want to kill a
pretty girl like that?''
said a Tortolan acquaintance who was interviewed by
police and who was shown photos of white male suspects
whom he had never seen before.
The man, a Soper's Hole Wharf marina worker who would
confirm only that his nickname is ``Moon,'' said he last
saw Lois in the wee hours of Jan. 15 at a
beachfront restaurant and bar called Quito's Gazebo on
Tortola's north
coast.
Quito's is a popular place where patrons enjoy a daily
all-you-can-eat
buffet lunch of grilled swordfish, chicken, seafood
salads and lots more for
$17 while watching pelicans torpedo-dive beneath the warm
aqua- blue waves
of Cane Garden Bay for their own seafood lunch.
At night, Quito's bar comes alive and people dance to
calypso and other
music that drifts down the white, sandy beach lined with
outdoor bars.
Lois appeared to be enjoying herself and wanted to dance
with Moon that
night. Moon, a thin, fortyish man with dreadlocks usually
tucked under a
cap, declined to dance; he was with someone.
She was last seen alive about 1:00 or 1:30 a.m.,
walking west along the
beach at Cane Garden Bay. Three men whose faces Moon did
not see followed single file.
Lois was buried Friday at the family plot in Port
Washington, N.Y.
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