'Bambi' Bembenek Wants Name Cleared

Oct. 3, 2002 -- Laurie "Bambi" Bembenek had been a pinup girl, a Milwaukee police officer and a whistle-blower. Then her husband's ex-wife was slain and she became known as a murderer.

Bembenek served a 20-year sentence — including 10 years on parole — for a crime she always insisted she didn't commit. Now, she's hoping new DNA technology will help clear her name.

Bembenek told ABCNEWS' Good Morning America that a conference hearing Friday will determine when and how the crucial test is carried out.

"We are trying to hurry the process along," said Bembenek, who is convinced the test results will clear her name once and for all. "This is it. This is the final yes or no."

Bembenek was arrested and charged with murder in the May 28, 1981, slaying of Christine Schultz, but all along, Bembenek claimed she was being framed by what she says was a corrupt police department.

A Murderous Jog?

Prosecutors said that in the middle of the night, Bembenek jogged two miles to the home of Schultz, her husband's ex-wife. They say she stole up to Schultz's second-floor bedroom, bound her with clothesline, gagged her with a bandanna and shot her once in the back.

The murder weapon was a gun belonging to Schultz's ex-husband and Bembenek's then-husband, Milwaukee police officer Elfred Schultz.

In court, lawyers depicted Bembenek as a shallow, former pinup girl who was so upset about the $700 a month that her husband was sending to his ex-wife for mortgage payments and child support that she decided to kill Christine Schultz using her husband's gun.

After her 1982 conviction, Bembenek was sentenced to life in prison, but she never stopped insisting she was innocent. She appealed her conviction three times, and lost all three appeals. Then, on July 15, 1990, her story took a dramatic turn. She escaped from prison.

On the Lam

With her escape, Bembenek became something of a cult figure. The city of Milwaukee rallied behind her. A song — called "Run, Bambi, Run" — was written in her honor and became a hit on local radio.

Bembenek fled over the border to Mexico with Nick Gugliatto. The pair had become engaged after Bembenek and Elfred Schultz divorced.

America's Most Wanted did a segment on Bembenek. After her picture was broadcast on the TV program, someone finally turned her in.

"Somebody faxed them a picture and the cop looked at me and laughed and said 'Run, Bambi, Run,'" Bembenek said.

When she was returned to Wisconsin, her new lawyer made a deal with authorities that she would plead guilty to a lesser charge of second-degree murder, and she would be credited for 10 years served. She was allowed to serve the remaining 10 years on parole.

Although she was no longer on the run, Bembenek's case continued to attract attention. It became the subject of a book and a TV movie starring Tatum O'Neal.

Bembenek completed her parole in April. Now 44, she filed a request on Aug. 24 to have the DNA testing done; a new Wisconsin law gave her the right.

Bembenek says she believes that her husband's gun was not the murder weapon, and wants testing on a bullet that was identified as being taken from Christine Schultz's body during an autopsy.

Bembenek and her lawyer, Mary Woehrer, also want blood and semen found on the victim's clothing and bed to be tested.

"It's pretty clear that the deceased engaged in a struggle with her assailant," Woehrer said. "There were bloodstains under her fingernails,on a bandana used to gag her and on the hallway outside her bedroom door. We are confident that the blood may be that of the assailant, the true murderer in this case."

The big sticking point is that prosecutors want to have the testing done at the state crime lab; Bembenek wants it done by CellMark, a nationally known DNA testing company. Woehrer says the state is refusing to pay for testing at CellMark.

Bembenek, who says she suffers from panic attacks and post-traumatic stress disorder because of the months she spent in solitary confinement, says she wants her name cleared after so she can get on with her life.

"It never ends," Bembenek said. "Let me just put it that way."