A local prostitute is found bludgeoned and strangled. She is a sad story in herself--marginally retarded but savy enough to go seeking cheap thrills in bars. Her mother describes her as "retarded, not so's you'd notice, but just enough to get her into trouble." Ann-Margaret sees the perfect way to get rid of her long unwanted boyfriend--frame him for the murder.
But it doesn't work out exactly as planned. As her story unravels under questioning, she adds details, finally desperately "confessing" that she took part in the murder and helped hide the body. Ultimately she gets a life sentence in prison, and her boyfriend gets 20 years in a plea bargaining arrangement.
Then and only then does the real killer, a boyish-looking long-distance truck driver with a fetish for the "happy face" motif, begin to send the female detective assigned to the case letters in which he admits killing not only the local prostitute but four other women, as well. His buttons seem to get pushed each time a woman does something that reminds him of his ex-wife. The detective finally confronts the man who invites her to sit in the cab of his truck after telling her that his wife smiles like she does. The detective wisely declines the invitation.
She then tries to get the two convicted "killers" freed. But wouldn't you know, it's election year, and the powers that be want to stay right where they are. Risking looking stupid by convicting the wrong two people may send votes right out the window. So even after the serial killer is arrested and gives an undeniable confession to the detective and her tag-along college student assistant, the mayor and prosecutor of Larwin, Michigan refuse to re-open the case, claiming that a confession is not proof of anything--a total departure of their mindset when the Ann-Margaret and her boyfriend were convicted. Only when the detective produces the one piece of physical evidence of the crime is the case re-opened and the people originally convicted of the crime set free.
It is hard to say why this film wasn't more appealing. Many appealing elements were there. Ann-Margaret should have had enormous appeal to opponents of domestic violence. The detective should have cut quite a figure as a hard-fighting career woman whose own community service consisted of taking in homeless dogs until owners could be found for them (and naming them for politiians in the meantime). The serial killer could have been made a far more interesting character than he was.
Perhaps this film sought realism. Battered women are often maddening in their refusal to change their lives and by their insistence that their lives cannot be changed. Alcoholic sociopaths seem to be hateful people with no redeeming qualities to those forced to deal with them for the long haul. Detective work is often not glamorous, and politicians tend to do only what keeps them in office. As for serial killers, more often than not, they are dull and stupid sorts whom the world would not notice but for the magnitude of their crimes.
In this film, however, the realism definitely goes flat. It is impossible to feel any sympathy or very much scorn for the characters, who all come across pretty much as two-dimensional. Consequently, you end up not really caring what happens to any of them. And that makes it impossible to care very much about this film.
