Authorities fooled again by dangerous inmate?

At 9:14 p.m. Saturday, corrections officers found an inmate named Byron Scherf calmly sitting in the chapel foyer at the Monroe Correctional Complex. He seemed to be waiting for them.

Officers were hunting for Scherf because he had missed a mandatory head count moments earlier. Scherf told them he had planned to escape.

"He said he was going to jump the wall," said Dan Pacholke, deputy prisons director for the Department of Corrections (DOC).

Officers didn't see Jayme Biendl, the 34-year-old corrections officer assigned to the chapel. Her shift had ended at 9 p.m., but she hadn't checked in her keys and radio.

At 10:18 p.m., fellow officers found her body on the chapel stage a short distance from where Scherf had been sitting. She had been strangled with a coaxial cable.

How and why Biendl's body wasn't found for more than an hour — even as fellow officers were outside her post in the chapel — is raising questions about DOC procedures and its ability to keep officers safe.

In a brief news conference Monday, Gov. Chris Gregoire said the National Institute of Corrections, a federal training agency, will review the case and determine if procedures were followed.

"We must find out what happened at the Monroe reformatory, and take whatever steps we need to prevent it from happening again," she said. She walked out as reporters continued asking questions.

The review also is expected to focus on Biendl's concerns for her safety in the prison chapel, expressed to co-workers and her boyfriend.

Biendl, officer of the year at Monroe in 2008, formally had requested additional surveillance cameras in the chapel in August or September.

In a sworn affidavit, her supervisor, a sergeant, said he signed a work order and submitted it to a captain, said Tracey Thompson, secretary of Teamsters Local 117, the corrections officers union.

The affidavit will be released Tuesday, after the union has an opportunity to give the affidavit to DOC, Thompson said.

DOC Secretary Eldon Vail said his agency was not aware that Biendl had raised complaints formally. "I'm not saying they weren't made," he said. "We haven't tracked them down yet."

Officer's family in grief

Biendl's family and friends declined to talk to reporters at length Monday.

"The family is overwhelmed with this tragedy," said Paul Crosby-Mapes, Biendl's brother-in-law.

Nicole King, the daughter of Biendl's longtime boyfriend, wrote in an e-mail that she was too emotional to talk about the woman who was "such an amazing, sweet, silly lady who accepted me into her life, no problem."

Biendl loved music and her horses, said King and others who knew her well.

"I don't know what to say," King said. "I just can't believe something like this happened to someone so innocent and sweet."

Funeral services had not been planned Monday night, Thompson said. A memorial page on Facebook had nearly 400 members and more than 115 messages posted.

The Monroe Police Department, which is investigating Biendl's death, will conduct at least 10 taped interviews in the prison, and has asked the Washington State Patrol Crime Lab to expedite analysis of DNA swabs.

The Snohomish County Medical Examiner's Office on Monday ruled Biendl's death a homicide by asphyxiation.

Scherf, a repeat rapist serving a life sentence without the possibility of parole, is the only suspect. He has declined to talk to investigators, Monroe police spokeswoman Debbie Willis said.

The investigation is focusing on the chapel, where Biendl worked since 2005.

Former Monroe inmate Stevan Dozier, released from a "three strikes" sentence after Gregoire granted him clemency in 2009, said he was stunned violence would happen there.

"That's sacred ground there," he said. "The visiting room and the chapel were areas where no incidents should occur. It wasn't so much the God thing, but it was a positive place."

Monroe, the state's largest prison, is served by two full-time chaplains as well as volunteers. Surveillance cameras, which were working Saturday, monitor out-of-the-way corners but not the main area, including the stage.

Gary Friedman, the Seattle-based spokesman for the American Correctional Chaplains Association, said volunteers often are in the Monroe chapel after the 8:30 p.m. end of services, although he is unsure if services were held Saturday.

"I'm scratching my head about this," he said. "Did the guy hide somewhere [in the chapel]?"

Officer's absence missed

Biendl's prison-issued radio had a panic alarm, but there is no indication it was triggered or that it was disabled, according to DOC's prison director, Bernie Warner.

When Scherf missed the 9 p.m. head count, all unnecessary movement of inmates stopped as officers quickly hunted for him.

After disclosing his escape attempt, he was taken to an isolation cell. The prison has found no evidence that he made plans for an escape, and no other inmate has been implicated, Warner said.

The officers focused on the escape attempt and apparently did not check on Biendl. Pacholke, the deputy prisons director, said the "flurry" of activity created an environment where "lapses" in routine could occur.

"It doesn't surprise me they focused on that person and securing that person," said Pacholke, former superintendent at Monroe.

Under investigators' theory, Biendl already would have been strangled and lying on the stage, which is not visible from the foyer.

Biendl's shift, 12:30 p.m. to 9 p.m., is "atypical" and might be another factor in why her absence went unnoticed for 80 minutes, Pacholke said.

After officers found her body and called 911, her radio microphone was found torn from its cable. "We believe there was a struggle," said Willis, of the Monroe police.

Budget cuts a factor?

About a year ago, Biendl complained that an inmate, a convicted rapist who worked in the chapel, wrote her a threatening letter.

Warner said that inmate was moved out of the chapel, evidence that DOC took her concerns seriously. "When Jayme raised issues about her concern and fear, management made every effort to be responsive," he said.

Her death comes as DOC has cut $53 million from the 2011 budget, and is facing further cuts.

The number of full-time officers at Monroe dropped from 790 in 2008 to about 750 today, according to state budget figures. But Vail said the drop is attributable to Monroe's switch from a maximum- to medium-security prison.

"Overall, the population got, at least theoretically, a little bit lighter than it was, and we were able to reduce some staffing there as a result," he said.

But Thompson of the Teamsters union, which has opposed budget cuts vigorously, said there is a connection with Biendl's death. Thompson said Biendl's request for more surveillance cameras in the chapel last year was denied because of cost.

"There's been a culture around state government that we can't do improvements because it costs money," she said.

Though a dangerous environment is standard at a prison, Monroe is relatively well-run, said Carol Grandmontagne, who worked there for about 17 years as both a corrections officer and administrator before retiring in 2009.

"For working at a prison, it's a good prison," she said. "There are always things that can be improved and things that may not work that need to be fixed, and that's a part of a huge operation like that."

Kenneth Holdaas, a retired Monroe prison sergeant, said he never felt safe at work. Although Holdaas worked as a supervisor for 16 years, he said he started as a corrections officer outnumbered by inmates by about a 300-to-1 ratio.

He would work alone in a cellblock for six to eight hours at a time, but he said he didn't feel secure, even if he had a co-worker with him.

"You've got to be watching yourself all the time," said Holdaas, who added his best defense was forming a relationship with inmates. If he respected them, he figured, maybe they would respect him.

Staff reporters Andrew Garber and Olivia Bobrowsky contributed to this report. Jonathan Martin: 206-464-2605 or jmartin@seattletimes.com. Jennifer Sullivan: 206-464-8294 or jensullivan@seattletimes.com.