Crime & Courts

Purgatory behind bars: He’s spent 11 years in jail — and no one knows if he’s guilty

An illustration shows Devalos Perkins, 37, sitting on a jail bunk. Perkins has been awaiting trial on a murder charge for nearly 11 years.
An illustration shows Devalos Perkins, 37, sitting on a jail bunk. Perkins has been awaiting trial on a murder charge for nearly 11 years. rhandley@mcclatchy.com

READ MORE


Purgatory Behind Bars

A Charlotte murder suspect has spent 11 years in jail — and no one knows if he’s guilty. This Charlotte Observer investigation shows how a cold case murder from 2005 could force 37-year-old Devalos Perkins to spend his life in jail for a crime he’s not even convicted of.

Expand All

Devalos Perkins stood in front of his cell door — deranged, and clinging to the metal shard he’d ripped from the sprinkler head. A jail sergeant ordered him to drop the weapon.

“F–k you, come and get it,” Perkins yelled.

Ten minutes earlier, as alarms blared, detention center officers rushed to mop the floor. They didn’t realize he had the piece of metal that could be used to hurt them.

Now more alarms were sounding.

Four officers with a specialized guard unit — the Mecklenburg County Sheriff’s Office Direct Action Response Team — were called in to take him down, jail records show.

They wrestled with him, trying to angle each wrist and ankle into restraints.

But Perkins fought back.

They used a stun gun on him — once, twice, finally, a third time.

The prongs caught the inside of Perkins’ thigh, delivering painful electrical shock waves. He gave up.

The guards slapped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists and hoisted him to his feet. Two guards walked him backwards to a waiting restraint chair.

The chair was not yet a familiar place — but it would become one.


Devalos Perkins' Purgatory

This is the start of a 4-part news series by The Charlotte Observer examining how a cold case murder devolved into a man’s decade-long purgatory in jail, mental health hospitals and court. Subsequent chapters reveal how Devalos Perkins ended up in jail and show the resulting brokenness across three families after a robbery in a gas station parking lot led to murder. With no end in sight, prosecutors have yet to prove his guilt. Our investigation digs into how one provision of North Carolina law threatens to keep him in purgatory forever.


A decade of jail bunks and hospital beds

Perkins would have worse episodes over the next 10 years.

He’d been to jail and even prison plenty of times before. But on Oct. 1, 2012, he entered purgatory.

His mental spiral began almost immediately.

Perkins, now 37, has been behind bars in North Carolina since he was in his 20s for a murder case that went cold seven years before he was arrested.

An investigation by The Charlotte Observer spanning more than a year found shocking insights into a broken system for mentally-ill North Carolinians involved with courts. Perkins’ case is among the worst documented in public records.

The picture reporters pieced together from hundreds of documents and extensive interviews provides details into the life of a man who has spent over a decade watching the world through a cell window for a crime he’s not even been convicted of.

Data for solitary confinement stays indicates an order for Perkins to be moved but does not represent the total number of days he's been in the disciplinary unit, which is not known. Similarly, the number of times he's assaulted guards may be higher as some of his criminal charges for assaults in jail were later dropped.

Over the years he has flung urine and feces at guards; attacked officers and nurses; racked up thousands of dollars in fines for destroying jail property; and told doctors there’s a global cabal of imaginary enemies listening to his thoughts, according to jail and court documents.

He’s had pepper spray pumped into his cell and lived in solitary confinement for days at a time during an endless shuffle between hospital beds and jail bunks.

The Mecklenburg County Detention Center solitary confinement cells measure approximately 70 square feet. All have cinder block walls and include a metal door with windows and a food pass. The illustration depicts the kind of cell Devalos Perkins was repeatedly sent to for days at a time as a form of punishment.
The Mecklenburg County Detention Center solitary confinement cells measure approximately 70 square feet. All have cinder block walls and include a metal door with windows and a food pass. The illustration depicts the kind of cell Devalos Perkins was repeatedly sent to for days at a time as a form of punishment. Sohail Al-Jamea and Rachel Handley saljamea@mcclatchy.com, rhandley@mcclatchy.com

His incarceration is marked by his time on-and-off suicide watch and in-between a revolving door of judges and lawyers, including one who withdrew from his case telling the court he was “so concerned for his personal safety that he could not provide effective assistance of counsel if required to sit near (Perkins)“ in court.

Perkins has been evaluated again and again by psychiatrists, most of whom say the same thing: He’s not capable of standing trial to determine if he’s guilty of murder. Judges have signed off on the cycle that has left him in a purgatory-like place — neither convicted nor cleared of the crime.

Timeline of Devalos Perkins in jail

Action by guards / prison
Action by Devalos Perkins

Year 11 of purgatory

Cases like Perkins’ have drawn criticism from criminal justice reform and victims’ rights advocates and even some law enforcement officials. In Perkins’ case, Mecklenburg County’s sheriff has called out his lengthy stay in the detention center in Charlotte, saying such situations have worsened overcrowding in the jail.

A Charlotte mother just wants closure, and hopes that someday, Perkins will admit he pulled the trigger of the gun that killed her 20-year-old son in 2005.

The chances of a successful prosecution generally decrease as the case gets older, acknowledges Bill Bunting, Mecklenburg County’s assistant district attorney in charge of the homicide unit. The DA’s office otherwise generally refused to comment on Perkins’ case.

Perkins says it’s well past time he has his day in court. Five years into his detention he wrote a letter pleading with a judge:

“I been back and fourth from the mental hospital for evaluations. Now I am compitint to go to trial, I notice my lawyer is not.”

But despite the case not going to trial, a single word in a provision of state law keeps Perkins in jail — and threatens purgatory forever, as this multi-part investigative series by The Charlotte Observer shows.

The biggest kicker? As he stays in jail, authorities have already set free two other men originally believed to have been involved in the crime.

Sources

Scenes not witnessed by the reporter in this series were compiled from research, interviews and public records including documents from the Mecklenburg County Detention Center and Clerk of Superior Court.

Credits

Kallie Cox | Reporter

Anna Douglas | Editor

Rachel Handley | Illustrations & Design

Gabby McCall | Page Design

David Newcomb | Development & Design

This story was originally published July 13, 2023 at 3:00 PM.

Kallie Cox
The Charlotte Observer
Kallie Cox covers public safety for The Charlotte Observer. They grew up in Springfield, Illinois and attended school at SIU Carbondale. They reported on police accountability and LGBTQ immigration barriers for the Pulitzer Center on Crisis Reporting. And, they previously worked at The Southern Illinoisan before moving to Charlotte. Support my work with a digital subscription
Get unlimited digital access
#ReadLocal

Try 1 month for $1

CLAIM OFFER

Purgatory Behind Bars

A Charlotte murder suspect has spent 11 years in jail — and no one knows if he’s guilty. This Charlotte Observer investigation shows how a cold case murder from 2005 could force 37-year-old Devalos Perkins to spend his life in jail for a crime he’s not even convicted of.