The Justice Department laid out its case this past week that Army scientist Bruce Ivins mailed the anthrax powder that killed five people in 2001. Ivins' committed suicide at his home near Fort Detrick, Maryland, which means the evidence gathered by the FBI and US Postal Service inspectors will never be tested in an adversarial setting. Based on their reporting on the investigation, the FBI documents released last week and interviews with lawyers, Associated Press legal writers Matt Apuzzo and Lara Jakes Jordan offer what could have been opening statements from the government and the defense if Ivins had lived and the case had gone to trial. - For the prosecution: Far less than one in a million. Those are the chances that the anthrax used to murder five people in late 2001 could have come from any place other than a flask kept by Dr. Bruce Ivins. The same genetically unique anthrax strain, RMR-1029, which Bruce Ivins himself created. No other lab in the world stored RMR-1029 and nobody could obtain it without going through him. That scientific evidence, combined with the other evidence the government plans to introduce in this case, will show beyond a reasonable doubt that Bruce Ivins is the man who killed five innocent victims in two separate mailings. The evidence will show that shortly after the Sept. 11 terror attacks, this world-renowned anthrax expert began working odd hours in his lab - past midnight, during weekends - when no other researchers were around; something he had never done before; something he would never do again once the anthrax letters were mailed. The evidence will show a man under great strain at the time. His anthrax vaccine work was being heavily criticized, and his program in danger of being shut down. Days after the first letters were sent, Bruce Ivins wrote an e-mail about people in his group therapy sessions and their reactions to 9/11, calling himself “the only scary one in the group.” He also wrote that Osama Bin Laden had anthrax and wanted to kill Americans and Jews - language that would be used a short time later in the letters included in the deadly envelopes. The evidence will show that Bruce Ivins regularly drove long hours at night to deliver or mail packages, just as he did in this case. It will show his obsession with the sorority whose office is mere feet away from the mailbox in Princeton, New Jersey, where he posted the letters. It will show that the pre-stamped envelopes used to mail the anthrax, despite being mailed in New Jersey, very likely came from a post office near his home. The evidence will show that the FBI asked for anthrax samples from all around the world. But when Bruce Ivins was asked to produce his, the evidence will show that he gave the FBI a false sample of his anthrax and not the RMR-1029 he had used in the attacks. The defense will argue that some evidence in this case is circumstantial. That's fine. The court will tell you that circumstantial evidence is to be considered like any other evidence. But one thing is not circumstantial: the murder weapon. The flask that held the exact and unique strain of anthrax used in the attacks. Bruce Ivins' flask. He owned it. He controlled it. And he used it to kill. - For the defense: The government wants you to remember how afraid you were in 2001, when those poor people died. They want you to blame Bruce Ivins, so they made him out to be a mad scientist. But like most mad scientist tales, this one is just a scary story.The real story stars the FBI. The bureau wasted years chasing the wrong guy, a scientist named Steven Hatfill. After seven years, thousands of interviews and millions upon millions of dollars, agents need someone to blame. But what evidence do they have? They have some DNA, only not of Dr. Ivins. His DNA isn't anywhere close to this case. Not on the envelopes. Not on the tape used to seal them. Not at the mailbox. Nowhere. Here's all we know for sure: The anthrax came from his lab at Fort Detrick. Trouble is, about 100 scientists had access to that anthrax. Prosecutors say they're certain those 100 people didn't do it. But they won't tell you why. At trial, you're going to hear from FBI agents who, at one time, were just as certain the killer's name was Steven Hatfill. They were wrong then, too, and they're paying him $5.8 million to settle a lawsuit over that mistake. Prosecutors say Ivins struggled with depression, family problems. He was in counseling. Does that make him a murderer? You're going to hear from colleagues and friends that Ivins is a decent, peaceful scientist - not a man who decided one day to kill. And what will we hear from the government? They searched Ivins' home, cars, lab and computers. They read his e-mails. What did they find? Nothing. Not one fingerprint. Not a trace of anthrax. They will say he borrowed a machine that could have turned anthrax into powder. There is no evidence he used that machine for anything other than his job. Those other 100 scientists had access to this machine, too. It's common lab equipment. They will say he could have driven to New Jersey to mail the letters. Yet there are no gas receipts, no toll records, no witnesses. Best they can say is he liked to drive. Maybe, prosecutors say, Ivins drove seven hours through the night to get to a sorority's storage office, then mailed the anthrax when he arrived. Of course, there's no evidence, but it sounds like something a mad scientist would do. And what motive would this decorated scientist have to unleash biological terror? Prosecutors aren't sure. They've cooked up a theory that Ivins wanted to build support for a vaccine he helped develop. But again, there's no evidence. And the government knows that. So if you don't buy that theory, they've got backups. Maybe he was angry at the media. Maybe he hated Catholics who support abortion rights. This case is so important to the government, they're throwing everything out there. But in the end, it's just a scary story. – AP __
