PROFILE

In my seven years at the Daily News, I've bounced from covering the toy industry to crime to just about everything in between, at least for a day or two. Now, I'm going to try to learn about the next part of the legal system: courts and the justice system. Since my prior experience is limited to one trial, a few bankruptcy stories and serving on jury duty twice, we'll see how things go. Come check in from time to time and tell me how I'm doing.

Gracias for your help and enjoy your trip.

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Main | February 2008 »

January 31, 2008

Lakaysha Redd verdict up tomorrow

I'll be back in San Fernando Court tomorrow to hear the verdict on the Lakaysha Redd case. Since I wasn't able to get out for the earlier part, I'll be playing a little catch up. In the meantime, read on to see an archive story by my ex-colleague and current pal, Brad A. Greenberg.

February 28, 2007
Tag: 0703010047


Section: News
Edition: Valley

rop
Page: N6
Source: BRAD A. GREENBERG
Staff Writer

SAN FERNANDO -- Shayla Phillips spoke calmly as she told a 911 dispatcher that she was being followed by a vengeful ex-lover.

But as she sped around Northridge and North Hills last May -- unfamiliar territory for a girl from South Los Angeles -- Phillips grew anxious.
Her cell phone dropped the 911 call and when she redialed she frantically sought help from another dispatcher.

``I'm running out of gas and I can't stop and get gas because they are on my tail,'' Phillips, 22, said, according to a recording of the call played Tuesday in San Fernando Superior Court.

``Can you get to the police station?'' the dispatcher asked.

``I'm trying but I'm running out of gas.''

Moments later, Phillips, who had been driving at up to 100 mph, plowed through a red light at Roscoe and Reseda boulevards and slammed into a full-size truck. She died within minutes, and a firefighter on his way to work spent the next 3 1/2 weeks in a coma.

Lakaysha Redd, the 17-year-old ex-girlfriend Phillips told police she was fleeing, is charged with her murder and eight other felonies. She has pleaded not guilty.

Her preliminary hearing, which began Tuesday and should be completed today, shed some light on the minutes before Phillips died -- and the months leading up to that day.

Police said Lakaysha's vehicle was behind Phillips' and that she slowed down as she approached Reseda Boulevard and avoided the high-speed collision. Then she turned right and drove home, they said.

Hours later, Lakaysha called Phillips' lover, Abony Broadway, and told her Phillips had been in ``a serious accident'' without elaborating, Broadway testified Tuesday.

Crazy, huh? I regret missing the whole thing, but hope to have something for you in the morning.

Man's plunge down escalator costs $450k

Back in September of 2005, Gerson Rosen was enjoying a nice night out at McCormick & Schmick's. Or so he thought...

After his meal, the 72-year-old Albuquerque resident stepped onto the escalator at the Bunker Hill Steps downtown. It wasn't working, he fell, tumbled downward and suffered a nasty fall. So nasty, in fact, that a jury recently handed him $452,756.97 in a civil trial against property owner Maguire Properties and Universal Protection Services. Perhaps not enough to help him to gain back the extra years he feels he aged since '05, but it'll probably take the sting out of it a bit.

Judge knows his subject, all too well

After I got done complimenting Mr. Blackmoore last night, I find myself ripping him off once again. He picked up on a Times story on dirty cops. The case landed in the court of Judge Gary A. Feess, who's also charged with overseeing the Federal Consent Decree that's supposed to eliminate corruption such as this. Given his familiarity with the subject, things ain't looking hot for the crooked coppers or the department's attempts to comply with the decree and get it lifted.
From the Times:

The brothers were disappointed with the verdicts, according to their attorneys, who are considering filing appeals.

William Ferguson's attorney, Philip Deitch, said he had not yet determined how many years his client would face under the mandatory minimum dictated by federal sentencing guidelines.

"I've got to sit down and do the math," he said. "It's not going to be fun."

I love the understatement there, that they're "disappointed with the verdicts." Given that they could be looking at decades between bars, hanging out with guys who I'm sure are real keen on bunking with ex-cops, dirty or otherwise, I'd say disappointment is the least of their worries.

And two I missed...

William Shaoul Benjamin, the Republican-voting, George W. Bush-loving Canoga Park man who allegedly sold out his adopted homeland for $8,500 and a couple bottles of booze, was in court today.

And Mr. Anderson's got a interesting piece on Richard I. Fine, a taxpayer advocate attorney who finds himself accused of moral turpitude. And that's just such a great term, I had to get it on here somehow.

January 30, 2008

A war zone in the middle of Los Angeles

I'm kicking myself for missing Jill Leovy's discussion at Zocalo the other night. From the reviews at LA Noir (an excellent, excellent Web site) and the New Yorker (you know, that old rag), it sounds like the Homicide Report creator had a lot of thought provoking things to say.

From the New Yorker:
"The homicide rate in L.A. County for black men in their twenties, in 2007—considered a “miracle year” for its low toll—was an estimated hundred seventy-six deaths per hundred thousand. 'That approaches a war-zone death rate,' Leovy said. And yet, she said, 'the state mounts the least vigorous response at the storm center of the homicide problem.'"

I actually dug Mr. Blackmoore's take on it more, because he gives it a much more personal reflection. Here's a sample of what he had to say:
" What about me? Do I care? The simple fact that I'm asking this question points me toward yes, but I don't think it's that simple.

These murders aren't in my neighborhood. They're not among my friends and family. My chances of being killed, even in Los Angeles, which, let's be honest, isn't the den of murder and sin the Mid-West would like you to think, is remarkably low. Our overall murder rates are not that much higher than the rest of the nation and, in fact, are lower than they've been in more than twenty years. If you only look at the murder rates of whites it actually starts to look a lot like Europe.

I don't live in a "bad neighborhood". I have a full time job that allows me to own my own home. I can split hairs on my ethnicity all I want, but the fact remains that I'm as white as the next guy. My life hasn't been touched by murder and violence in years and I make a point of keeping it that way.

What am I really doing to help solve the problem? Obviously, I can't go be Batman and beat the crap out of the bad guys. That wouldn't solve the problem, anyway.

But is talking about it here enough? Is there more I can do? Should do? Want to do?"

[snip]

"So in writing this I think I've come up with my answer. Yeah, I do care. I don't know who reads this but I do it anyway. And it's not just to poke fun at idiot criminals and call for their heads (which, I know, not helping). If it can broaden the discussion even a little bit or help then I've done something positive.

And I can't hope for much else."

Posts like that are why I linked to him when I set this blog up (and, I suppose, to HR, as well). I have no idea who he is, what he does, anything beyond the blog that Jason turned me onto and a few emails back and forth, but I think he does some great work. Usually, it's just funnier takes on the crime news that we've got to play a little bit more straightly, but I really dig the introspection in the piece.

The same goes for Ms. Leovy's work. I read it religiously when I was contributing to It's a Crime and, though she's sharing more of the blog load now, I still greatly enjoy it. She's a talented writer who's paid her dues at The Times, and could probably get a much cushier assignment than tracking down dead people everyday, yet, like Mr. Blackmoore, she leaves her comfortable world to examine a very uncomfortable topic.

I hold no illusions that my work is on their level, but I found myself agreeing with the LA Noir post wholeheartedly. Like Mr. Blackmoore, my life is good, calm and easy. No one I know has ever been murdered, I have no family members in jail, the closest thing we've had to a major crime on my block was a string of purse snatchings. And like him, I find myself drawn to these stories.

One of my editors calls them "cheap crime" pieces. A woman told me the other day that she won't read the newspaper unless it has positive news. And I get that, to some extent. It's more fun to read about weed vending machines than it is about Grape Streeters going to war. And, given the choice, I'd rather write the happy story than the bummer one, too.

But you've got to tell those bad stories and tell them well. Otherwise, those of us in our nice, safe, comfy neighborhoods forget how good we have it and that not everyone's so lucky. And pretty soon, we stop caring altogether. Then, we're really in trouble.

"I told him no."

In an odd, nasty way, murder cases are easier to stomach than sexual assault-- the victim can't re-tell and re-live the crime. Listening to someone describe an alleged attack is far harder to take than it is to see cold, clinical autopsy photos.

Today, after things got put off in the Steffen case, I went downstairs to check in on People vs. Paul Wesley Baker. It was a rough day on the witness stand.

Deputy DA Nicole Flood called Baker's ex-wife, (she gave her name in court, but given the subject matter, I'll leave it out), who offered an hour-and-a-half of memories about their troubled relationship. She met him by chance, dated for a few years and moved in together.

"He was young, strong, good-looking, very outgoing," she testified. "He was, socially, very interesting."

But he also had a temper, fueled by his drinking. He punched her in the face when she left him, she testified, then kicked her in the leg on a separate occasion. He spit in her face, choked her, insulted her and threw a vase at her when he erroneously believed she was seeing another man.

But she loved him, tried to work things out and took him back on numerous occasions. When you hear all his alleged misdeeds laid out in court, it's hard to understand why she stuck with him, but this isn't uncommon. We've probably all been in relationships that we regretted later, but seemed like they'd improve at the time. Perhaps not to this extreme, but I don't think it's as surprising that she stayed with him, even after the violence began.

The morning testimony culminated with an emotional remembrance of an alleged assault in 1989. The two had been out at a bar, shooting pool, and Baker allegedly became enraged over her accidental contact with the bartender. He accused her of having an affair, took her home and forced her to have sex. She cried her way all through the testimony, describing the intense violence and eventual alleged sodomy.

"I told him no," she said. "He was very aggressive. He wasn't open to reasoning. He was going to do what he was going to do."

This is not to say Mr. Baker's guilty of the acts she described -- he's innocent until the jury decides otherwise. But, as the flinching jurors definitely noticed, you can't help but feel the emotion as she digs up these dark wounds of the past.

And, to make it worse, the normal business of the court's going on while she's on the stand. She's remembering this terrible alleged crime all while the baliffs are getting radio calls, the clerk's phone is ringing, people are coming in and out, and I'm in the corner taking notes. Somehow, the mundane setting makes the acts described seem even more horrible.

I didn't get a chance to stick around for the cross examination, but the defense attorney, Norman H. Kallen, noticed me on the way out to lunch and gave me a grim smile.

"This will give you plenty of tabloid fodder," he said.

Indeed it did-- but I hope I didn't tell it that way.

And now, it's up to the jurors

Here's the latest on Williamson and Williamson, which has taken up an awful lot of my attention and time as of late. I'll keep you posted on where things go.

Today, 12 jurors should take control of the next twist in the tale of two fathers and two sons.

One father, Filemon Ramos, is dead; his son, Filiberto, is recovering from wounds suffered on the evening of June 25, 2006. The other father, Alvaro Williamson, is on trial for murder and attempted murder; his 18-year-old son, Jacques, sits beside him at the defendants' table, accused of providing his father with the murder weapon.

It took nearly a month for the case of the long-running feud between Arleta neighbors to play out in court. This week, in San Fernando Superior Court, lawyers went through their final arguments before handing judgment over to the jurors, who are expected to begin deliberation today.

"There were two dads out there on that particular day...," Deputy District Attorney Paula Gonzales said in her closing argument Tuesday afternoon. "Two different fathers, acting in two different ways. One as a criminal, with his son as his co-criminal at his side."

Here's the whole thing.

As I mentioned in yesterday's post, the relationship between the two defendants puts the two attorneys in a very awkward spot. I get the sense that they're painfully aware of this, as well.

So here's my take on it (and, keep in mind, I just watch this stuff, I have no legal training).... Alvaro Williamson's testimony is that Jacques got the gun out of the car, he grabbed it away, then the shooting went down. Grimes needs to hit that home with the jury, that he was trying to protect his son, or his "baby," as the attorney put it. If he can do that, then they're probably more likely to give him a lesser murder charge or manslaughter.

Shapiro, on the other hand, has to push as much of the blame onto Big Al as he can, minimizing Jacques' exposure. He needs the jury to see Jacques as an innocent kid, afraid to disobey his ex-Marine dad. And to do that, he needs to make the dad look like the guilty one.

That's not that uncommon with multiple defendants, I suppose, but this isn't something like a gang murder or a fraud conspiracy. In those cases, the defendants are much likely to be every-man-for-himself, throwing the blame on each other to minimize their own culpability.

But how do you do that when the co-defendants are father and son? An injury to one is an injury to both, presumably. If Grimes does a great job, the jury believes him and gives Alvaro Williamson a lesser charge, then heaps more of the blame onto Jacques, the Williamson family isn't going to be thrilled. If Shapiro wins over the jury by making Jacques seem like he was just caught up in the middle, then his client's dad will be going away for a long time.

Not a fun situation, huh? There goes any aspirations I'd ever have to go to law school, that's for sure. I'll let you know what the jury has to say, as well.

Closure eludes families in body-in-shed case

Back in December, Mark Allen Steffen went on trial for murdering his girlfriend, Dina Canale. After less than a day of deliberation, the jury found him guilty of second degree murder and the judge scheduled the sentencing for today. First, I'll refresh your memory with the story:

When the love of his life turned up dead in his Reseda home, Mark Allen Steffen stuffed her in a box, locked it in a shed and got on with his life.

The 58-year-old part-time auto repossessor, on trial charged with murdering his girlfriend, Dina Canale, admitted as much before his defense rested Monday.
He agreed he'd slapped her around. He acknowledged he'd lied to police when they asked where the 37-year-old mother of three had gone.

Steffen even said he'd invited an old flame over for a barbecue next to the shed -- where Canale's corpse sat rotting.

But stashing the body until he could find the right place to bury her was all he admitted. He didn't kill her, he said.

``What I did wasn't reasonable at all,'' he testified. ``It was a very bad decision on my part.''


After his testimony, the two sides gave closing arguments in Van Nuys Superior Court, and the jury began deliberating. If convicted of second-degree murder, he faces a possible life sentence.

Steffen and Canale were dating for a few months when Canale went missing Aug. 12, 2006. He told a friend they argued, he kicked her out and she vanished. The next time he saw her, he testified, she turned up mysteriously dead in his house.

Steffen, a gray-bearded, pony-tailed man who sat placidly through most of the four-day trial, said he wanted to preserve her body for burial on land he planned to buy in Washington state.

So he placed her in a box and stored her in a shed behind his Lindley Avenue home until he could make appropriate plans.

Jon Anderson, Steffen's sometime boss and alleged drug dealer who introduced him to Canale, dropped by about two weeks after her disappearance and smelled a strong odor wafting from the shed. Since he had previously noticed a cut on Steffen's arm and saw that Canale was still missing, he wanted answers.

``Are you doing some O.J. (stuff) in there?'' Anderson asked him, according to testimony.

Steffen told him the smell was probably a dead opossum and changed the subject. Soon after, he headed north on what he said was a pre-planned trip. Eventually, his brother alerted police that something was terribly wrong. On Sept. 21, 2006, officers cracked the lock and discovered Canale's skeleton.

Cops caught up with Steffen in Port Orchard, Wash., about a week later, arresting him on suspicion of murder. The body was so badly decomposed, investigators couldn't determine how she died.

Deputy Public Defender Alan Budde seized on the lack of a cause of death, saying prosecutor Jane Winston had not proved his client murdered Canale.

``Hiding the body is offensive, we know that,'' he said in his closing argument. ``It's nasty and offensive, but it doesn't solve the case.''

Winston acknowledged she couldn't prove Steffen beat Canale to death, but said his string of lies on the stand and to investigators showed his story didn't hold up.

``Probably the most bizarre story ever heard,'' she noted in her closing. ``He is not a 17-year-old with poor judgment. He has been around. He knows you don't put a body in a box, in a shed, in the summer, in the Valley.''

As jurors began deliberating, Canale's sister-in-law Joanna Lampert wiped away tears. Canale had a drinking problem, she said, and had run into hard times.

But even with all her troubles, she was still a doting mother and beloved part of the family. The day before she disappeared, she celebrated her 6-year-old son's birthday with her kids and talked about kicking her drinking habit. She hoped to turn things around.

``It's a horrible disease, but plenty of people have trouble with alcohol,'' Lampert said. ``She didn't deserve to die like this.''

This morning, Canale's family and a few Steffen relatives gathered in Van Nuys Superior Court, hoping to hear the final word on what would happen. And, after he was brought out in handcuffs and jail blues, it looked like that word would come down.

But his attorney, Deputy Public Defender Alan Budde, was unable to appear due to a medical emergency. Since Budde was prepared to argue the verdict should be thrown out and the case retried, the PD standing in for him asked the case be delayed until he could return. Judge Richard Kirschner agreed, but allowed the family members, some of whom had flown in from Northern California, to offer their statements.

"He seemed to think that no one would miss her. ..." said sister-in-law Joanna Lampert, who's now caring for Canale's kids. "I don't ever want him to see the light of day."

Outside, the family cried and hugged some more, thanking LAPD Det. Jason LeDuff for his role in solving the case and wishing it would finally come to an end. Tracy Perry, Canale's sister, broke down after sitting stoically through a gruesome, four-day trial.

"I never cried through all of this -- I was waiting for this day," she said. "Dina was awesome. People don't see that, they just see the alcohol. But she was so much more."

She'll be back March 10, when she hopes to finally put the case behind her.

January 29, 2008

Williamson trial closing outtakes and highlights

It's a lot more fun to think of courts like you see in the movies, with the drama and stunning oratory conveniently packed into concise, witty, easily understood arguments. But, as I've explored in the past with People vs. Williamson and Williamson, there's a lot of downtime and bizarre moments involving lost pants and curse words.

For the past two days, the attorneys have gone through their closing arguments, which are usually the dramatic moments you see on TV. There were plenty of tense moments, but lots of oddball ones, as well. So here's something of a blooper and highlight reel, all wrapped into one convenient blog post:

Much centered around the trial's central phrase, "go get my s---," allegedly uttered by Alvaro Williamson to his son Jacques.

"When Alvaro Williamson said he wanted his gun, he didn't say, 'Jacques, I want my gun now. It's the one over there under the seat, because I feel threatened.'" Deputy DA Paula Gonzales said. "He says, according to evidence, 'Go get my s---.'"

This phrase, or slight variations on it, has come up over and over again. Gonzales argued that his use of 's---' as a replacement term for gun, likening it to "thingamabob". Since Jacques didn't have to ask what his dad meant, she argued that shows that the incident was preplanned and that the son shares in the father's guilt, even though he didn't pull the trigger.

Alvaro Williamson, for his part, testified last week that he said "What the f--- are you doing? Give me that s---," which makes it seem like Jacques got the gun of his own accord and that he snatched it away. He claims he then heard a shot, panicked and killed Filemon Ramos.

Williamson's attorney, Milton C. Grimes, gave a wildly ranging, theatrical closing, peppered with pregnant pauses and punctuated with laughs. At one point, he asked the jury if his client had behaved the way he did because "he's an a-hole."

Part of his argument centers on Alvaro Willamson's possible intoxication, saying this clouded his client's judgment when the shooting occurred. He asked the jury to imagine a conversation between friends regarding one's drunken actions, then acted it out, playing both parts.

"I didn't do that."
"Oh, yes you did, pardner!"
"Oooh, dang, I did?"

As Grimes was explaining the legal technicalities of reasonable doubt, he got ahold of a wooden pointer to help the jury follow along with his overhead projector presentation. Once that was finished, he didn't relinquish the tool, however, waving it like a swordsman and twirling it like a drum major. At one point, he used it as a stand-in for a rifle, punctuating his mock shots by screaming "pow-pow-pow-pow-pow!"

He acknowledged his histrionics before the jury, apologizing for for his courtroom flamboyance at the same time he indulged in it.

"It's not to say, 'I don't like either of these bald-headed guys, Grimes or Williamson,'" he said, reaching for the elegant handkerchief that he wears as a pocket square with his sharp suits. "'I don't like how Grimes is always playing with his little hankie. If he can't keep it in his pocket, he ought to leave it alone.' You can't hold that against Mr. Williamson."

Mark S. Shapiro, who's defending Jacques, also took a page from the self-deprecating playbook. He's had a rougher go of things from the beginning, all of which he acknowledged as he addressed the jurors. He admitted he screwed up by not offering condolences to the Ramos family and said he could be a better lawyer.

"I can't think of any closing argument I've ever made that was as important as this," he said. "And I'm scared. I'm shaking in my boots. And I'm not even wearing boots."

The two defense attorneys have an unenviable task, which I'll get to in a later blog post, because to protect their own clients, they've got to throw some suspicion on each other's. Given that they're father and son, it's even stickier. Shapiro argued that Alvaro Williamson, an ex-Marine, would have carefully watched over his firearms, not let his then-17-year-old boy tote them out of the house without his knowledge.

"How do Marines feel about their guns? They love them," Shapiro said, voice dropping almost to a whisper before rising to military volume. "'This is my rifle, this is my gun... blah, blah, blah, blah.' There is no closer relationship between a Marine and his gun."

For those of you unfamiliar with the reference, here's a learned discussion of the Marines' refrain. And if the court testimony hasn't had enough cussing for you, that article certainly will.

Shapiro, too, returned to the "give me my s---" phrase, but had an unexpectedly goofy moment that reinforced his "I'm just a humble guy" message, perhaps a little too well.

"I said," he bellowed, slamming his hand on the prosecutor's table, preparing to let fly. As he did so, Gonzales' laptop jumped and, rather than a forceful, "give me my s---," the jury heard some computerized noise.

"Oops," Shapiro grinned, apologetically. "I didn't know it would do that."

When he wrapped up, Gonzales took over again for her rebuttal. Mindful of Grimes' charisma and rapport with the jury, she started in by praising him.

"Mr. Grimes is a gifted and talented speaker," she began.
"I'm going to object to that," Grimes interrupted, cutting her off as she told the jury how great he was. "It's improper."

Judge Ronald S. Coen overruled him and Gonzales continued. Though she doesn't have his flair, she was also much more focused than before and offered a forceful tone as she began her final argument.

"It's talented speaking versus the facts," she said. "I know I'm not as talented, but the facts are the facts."

She's still got a few more things to say tomorrow morning, but I'm not sure if I can make it back since I've got a sentencing to attend in Van Nuys. So, instead, I'll leave you with a thought from Shapiro:

"This case is a tragedy, no matter what," he said.

That was the most truthful thing I've heard in the entire month of testimony and argument. No matter what the jury finds, these two families will suffer forever from the events of that summer night.

The slow wheels of justice

Well, things went a little more slowly than I anticipated in People vs. Williamson and Williamson today, so disregard my earlier comment about having a story on the end of arguments. Shapiro finished his closing today for the defense, then Deputy DA Gonzales got her rebuttal, which she got most of the way through before court wrapped at 4 p.m. I'll offer you some highlights in a bit.

The James Bond of Canoga Park

Or is it Carlos the Jackal? Or is it just some dude whom the government is unfairly picking on? Well, let's read the beginning of Mr. Castro's excellent story today...

CANOGA PARK - The upscale hillside neighborhood above Topanga Canyon Boulevard hardly evokes a scene of America's War on Terror.

But near the top in the 22100 block of Parthenia Street, a drama right out of a spy story - replete with intrigue, paranoia and urgency - is playing out.

At the heart of the tale is a dark, gray-haired, mustachioed man who on a recent day wore a running suit and baseball cap just before dusk to enjoy the day's last breathtaking view of the San Fernando Valley - a view that could soon be taken from him.

William Shaoul Benjamin, 65, an Iraqi-born naturalized U.S. citizen, goes on trial today on federal charges that he failed to "register, as required by law, as an agent for executed Iraq leader Saddam Hussein's feared intelligence service, whose leaders are believed by U.S. officials to have played central roles in the reported links between Saddam and al-Qaida."

If convicted of four criminal counts related to his alleged spying case - including lying on his application for U.S. citizenship in 2001 - Benjamin faces 20 years in prison and possible deportation to his homeland.

"He is the least likeliest person you would expect to find as an enemy of the United States," said his lawyer, James Edward Blatt. "He isn't a Muslim. He's a Christian, and he loves this country, and he loves George Bush. It makes no sense."

The whole thing's here. Man, that should be a fun trial to cover.... we'll keep you posted.

Still goin'

Williamson and Williamson's still going. Grimes wrapped and Mark Shapiro, defending Jacques Williamson, is now about 10 minutes into his close. He acknowledged "I'm shaking in my boots. And I'm not even wearing boots."

I'm working on a rough draft of the story in our San Fernando bureau (namely the always-excellent House of Brews coffeehouse) and hope to post something when Shapiro completes his closing argument this afternoon.

January 28, 2008

Williamson & Williamson nears its end.

The Alvaro Williamson/Jacques Williamson witness testimony ended today and went to closing arguments.

I actually hadn't planned on being there, but ended up in the courtroom on a happy accident when the prelim on the Weinberg case got pushed back. Deputy DA Paula Gonzales got through her close, then Milton C. Grimes, defending the father, started in with his. I'll post more tomorrow, when Grimes raps up and Mark Shapiro, defending the son, finishes his. It'll be some good stuff, I promise.

And now, my battery's dying, so I'll sign off. See ya manana.

Sextoy Dave doesn't like his matchmaker experience

This one's a bit of a stretch on the legal affairs side, but there's a quasi-connection, so I'll put something short here. Last year, I was part of the team that worked on our porn series and still get press releases from some of the companies involved. A few days ago, I got an e-mail about Dave Levine, who runs an adult products company. The title was "Sextoy Dave on millionaire matchmaker press release" and I thought, "Gee, that sounds odd."

In the original release, the Hollywood-based Mr. Levine, proprietor of Sextoy.com, was pretty excited to appear on "The Millionaire Matchmaker" on Bravo.

"I don’t mind the lashing matchmaker Patti gave me," he said in the statement. "I am used to it, and I know it certainly makes for interesting television."

Then the show came out. Now Mr. Levine's bummed because Patti Stanger, the show's host, had some negative things to say about him and the stripper pole he keeps in his home. Hmm, hard to see that one coming, wasn't it? So his PR folks fired off a response, including this back-and-forth:

Patti says, “He wouldn’t be in the Sex Toy business if he wanted to be a banker or lawyer conservative type and get married and settle down. The fact that he says to me ‘I want to get married and have kids,’ is ridiculous.”

Dave: I took the LSAT's and almost went to law school. Instead, I went to NYC and tried to get a job as an investment banker. When I saw the web in 1994, I worked feverously to come up with a business that could make money on the web by working from home. I started several businesses including selling high end art, lobsters, books, t-shirts, watches, etc. Some of my businesses made some money and some did not. By late 1995, I saw how fast the web was changing and I knew I needed to focus. My store with the best sales, best profits and most traffic was sextoy.com. So I decided fine, I will be the king of sextoys. I am not personally into toys . . . I am into profit margins. This business decision should not disqualify me from finding love.

I come from a great family with loving parents who have had a great relationship for over 40 years. Coming from a great family, it is only natural that I would want the same. To call that “ridiculous” is insulting and wrong.

I don't know what's more entertaining, his umbrage over her insults or the line about his business interests "including selling high end art, lobsters, books, t-shirts, watches, etc." I wonder if there's much crossover in the high end art worlds and lobster commerce. And if he'd become a lawyer, would he have trouble finding that great relationship? One wonders. Best of luck with the love life, Mr. Levine.

Culver City slave case

As an almost resident of Culver City, I tend to associate it more with movie theaters and restaurants, rather than, well, slavery. But, as I continue to learn, there's nothing that's too strange or too twisted for the Greater Los Angeles area.


A former Hollywood studio attorney and his wife are expected to be sentenced today for forcing their Filipina housemaid to work as a virtual slave in their Culver City condominium.

James Jackson, 54, who was the vice president of legal affairs at Sony Pictures at the time the crimes occurred, pleaded guilty last August to a single count of alien harboring. His wife, Elizabeth, 55, pleaded guilty on the same day to a charge of forced labor.

James Jackson acknowledged harboring their housemaid, former schoolteacher Nena Ruiz, in his home even though he knew her work visa had expired.

The couple is scheduled to be sentenced this morning by U.S. District Judge Dale Fischer at U.S. District Court in downtown Los Angeles.

The Jacksons forced Ruiz to work 18-hour days for several months from 2001 to 2002.

And, the horrible nature of the crime aside, what makes this so interesting? Because of Mr. Jackson's day job. The dude's an attorney and vice president of legal affairs for Sony and it doesn't occur to him that it might be a bad idea to keep a maid as a slave? My, my, my, what are they teaching in law school these days?

Legal mad-libs, courtesy of Prof. Volokh

When I was setting up the links on this blog, I threw one on to The Volokh Conspiracy for a few reasons: I wanted to find a law blog that had some interesting writing, I went to UCLA and, frankly, it's just got an awesome name.

I'll concede that much of the discussion there is somewhat over my head, as I'm just an observer of the legal community, rather than a part of it. Perhaps at the 20th anniversary party of Order in the Court, we'll all laugh about those tender, early days before I became a legal genius, but until we get there, I'll keep looking at many of the Volokh posts and wish that I were more of a scholar.

But, along with interesting stuff like this discussion on cease-and-desist letters, the Conspiracy crew also has some very amusing asides, such as this:

Looking for a Good Term:

A student of mine is writing a very interesting article about restrictions on sex between medical and quasi-medical professionals (from psychotherapists and doctors to massage therapists and opticians) and patients. But he's looking for a good term to fill in the blank:

"One common argument for restricting sex between psychotherapists and their clients is that the clients often have a diminished ability to ___."

And while some of the commenters are helpful, quite a few had some fun with it. It's awesome-- the guy's trying to get some help for his poor student and his readers are treating this like Mad Libs. Good luck, Prof. V. And good luck to the student, too-- sounds like an interesting issue, even without the off-color suggestions offered up in the comments.

Help wanted: no sex offenders need apply

Normally, I'm not a big fan of newspaper letters columns (nor am I a big fan of newspaper editorial pages, either, no offense to my pals over at Friendly Fire). But today's lead letter brings up a very interesting point. Read on:

Re "Victim's family awarded $12 million" (Jan 19):

Scott Villa Apartments L.P. and Francis Property Management lost a civil case and now owe $10.8 million for hiring a convicted felon and registered sex offender.

If employers are liable for the crimes of anyone they hire (as this case shows), who will hire convicted felons or registered sex offenders? If no one will hire them, what will the felons do but commit more crimes? If they cannot get jobs, then once a felon, always a criminal. We have given them no choice.

Are we giving them any chance to live a normal life? If your answer is that they deserve it, does everyone else deserve to be victims of the crimes they commit because they cannot get a job? Then we complain about the crime rate.

- ROBERT REEVES

Chatsworth

I explored the case in an earlier blog post, but I'll admit, that's not an angle I considered. And Mr. Reeves makes a very good point: if someone's done their time for a past crime, at what point can we stop penalizing them? Mr. Rodriguez, the sort-of-accused, served his earlier sentence and registered as a sex offender, so at what point are is he or his ex-boss still liable for his past misdeeds?

Certainly, there are plenty of instances where people's crimes should prohibit them from future employment. You don't want child molesters working as teachers or habitual drunk drivers sitting behind the wheels of city buses. And if a guy's got a few battery beefs in the past, you probably don't want to issue him a badge and gun and tell him to go protect and serve.

But how far do you go with this? It's a little easier to point the finger in the Scott Villa case, since Rodriguez allegedly re-offended to crimes similar to the ones he'd committed before he took the job. And the jury did, to the tune of 10.8 million bucks. If I were a property owner right now, I'd be pretty damn hesitant to hire a guy with a shady past, looking at a multi-million dollar bill for an employee's supposed misdeeds.

The hard part is -- and this is what makes covering this stuff so interesting -- is that our justice system is based around the notion of rehabilitation. If you serve out your sentence and demonstrate that you're no longer a threat to society, you're supposed to be able to transition back into it. Employment plays a big role in that, allowing the ex-con to return to supporting themselves and interacting with people in a positive manner.

Heck, that's not just the justice system, that's a big part of our society. Listen to the lyrics of "Amazing Grace" sometime, you'll see what I mean.

As I was saying before, you don't want to just to open the prison door, boot the convict out after their sentence and say, "Adios, pal, now run wild." In hindsight, it's easy to say that Mr. Rodriguez shouldn't have been hired for a job where he had access to people's apartments or contact with women. Given the sexual battery and burglary charges, unrelated to the civil case against Scott Villa, that sent him to prison, he makes a good case for the lock-em-up-and-throw-away-the-key crowd.

But there's plenty of people who've gone on from a rough past to productive lives-- one of them (albeit for much lesser problems and with much greater success) happens to live in the Getty Mansion now and occupies a rather prominent office in City Hall. If we're going to say that a criminal past should bar you from working as a handyman, then there's gonna be a whole lot of people whose jobs, perhaps the only thing preventing them from returning to crime, evaporate. And trust me, if you can't get a job fixing people's pipes and changing lightbulbs, it's not like Microsoft is going to come calling to offer you a gig as a software engineer.

As is usually the case, I don't have the answer, but I'm glad Mr. Reeves brought this up. It's certainly given me something to think about, and I hope for you, dear readers, as well.

January 27, 2008

The horror of Metrolink crash lives on

I don't like writing stories like this. There's drama, there's action and they're absolutely horrible. A one-homicide story is bad enough, but multiply that by 11 and throw in the scores and scores of physically wounded and emotionally scarred people and it's infinitely worse.


Three years ago today, Steven Toby settled down for a quick nap and woke up in a nightmare.

The 51-year-old Shadow Hills man was headed south on Metrolink 100, catching a little shut-eye on his way to his job at Los Angeles City Hall. The clock read 6:02 a.m. A tremendous collision jarred him awake.

The lights went out and Toby heard a mass gasp. His train had gone off the rails.

"You think, `Oh, I'll get through this and go on like before,"' he said. "But the consequences reach far beyond me and the people affected that day."

Three years, one arrest, 11 deaths and dozens of lawsuits later, the families of the worst disaster in Metrolink history hope their long quest for justice is close to an end.

The Los Angeles Superior Court has scheduled the criminal trial of Juan Manuel Alvarez for March 24. The 25-year-old Compton man, who drove his SUV onto the tracks at Chevy Chase Drive in Glendale, stands accused of 11 counts of murder, along with arson and train-wrecking charges. If convicted, he faces the death penalty.

The civil trial against Metrolink is supposed to go to trial July 14, too, which will reopen the old pain anew. I can't imagine what it must have been like for the victims, the responders or the neighbors and bystanders who ran to help. As in any disaster, the best and worst sides of human nature were on display that day.

Stay tuned on this one-- they're both going to be long, painful trials and we'll do our best to keep you informed.

(My thanks go out to my partner, Mr. Dobuzinskis, on this one. The story would have been a lot shorter and a lot less interesting had it not been for his timely assistance)

January 26, 2008

Send all my mail, to the very comfy Glendale Jail

Ahh, weren't we just speaking of Kiefer Sutherland just the other day? Well, my colleague Mr. Dobuzinskis does a nice round-up of the "pay to stay" trend in today's paper.

For well-heeled convicts sentenced to jail for relatively minor crimes, a cell at one of a handful of Southern California city jails is just a fistful of cash away - and Glendale's facility is gaining a reputation as an oasis.

At $85 a day, demand has surged for the jail's pay-to-stay program after errant celebrities Kiefer Sutherland and Gary Collins recently picked the site to bunk down in.

While Sutherland, 41, star of "24," was released last week, and Collins, 69, a veteran of countless TV shows, also is gone, the jail has been flooded with calls.

"After Kiefer and Gary, we got inundated with calls, so we actually have people lined up through the summer," said jail administrator Juan Lopez, who noted more than a dozen inmates are now signed up.

"We'll have to set up plaques that say `Kiefer slept here' or `Gary ate here."'

Experts say California's dozen or so boutique jails such as Glendale's are pricey and require prisoners to serve their entire sentence - instead of staying for free in the overcrowded county jail and potentially being released early - but are an attractive option for many who fear jam-packed county facilities.


Check out the whole thing here.

Although I hate to overuse the "only in LA" (or Glendale, in this case) phrase, the idea of celebrity jails is just too funny.

And we're back!

Sorry for the dark Friday-- I was off taking care of some business and generally lurking around Los Angeles. But now that I've finished roaming the streets of Hollywood for an upcoming story, it's back to the blogosphere.

January 24, 2008

What a difference a suit makes

The first time I saw Alvaro Williamson, he was having wardrobe issues. Sitting behind the defendant's table, he wore a stylish, khaki-colored sport shirt above jailhouse blue pants. It was not a good look, for fashion and legal reasons.

A relative was supposed to bring the accused a pair of slacks, but the pants had never materialized. Judge Ronald S. Coen didn't want the jury to be unduly influenced by this odd choice pairing of clothes, so he made sure that Williamson was already seated when jurors came in and out.

By the time he took the stand in his own defense, Mr. Williamson had his clothing problems ironed out. Dressed in a gray suit, apparently freshly purchased, judging from the label still on the sleeve, and a cream-colored button-down, he presented a considerably less threatening image when he swore to tell the truth and sat in the witness box.

Alvaro Williamson admitted Tuesday that he killed his neighbor but testified he was normally a concerned citizen, good father and animal lover.

The Arleta man, charged with murdering Filemon Ramos and attempting to kill his son, Filiberto Ramos, took the stand in San Fernando Superior Court in his own defense.

He told the jury he feared for his life and thought he'd heard a gunshot and seen a weapon at a street soccer game gone awry.

The neighbors had been bickering for years over loud music, rude gestures and the right-of-way on Fillmore Street. Williamson said he didn't expect things to end up the way they did on June 25, 2006.

"I regret my action on that day," he said. "I'm trying to deal with it the best I can. There's losses all around. It's unfortunate."

Williamson started off as a pretty good witness, relaxed and engaging while under questioning from his attorney Milton C. Grimes. He's a big dude, 6'7", 270, but he leaned back in the chair and looked considerably smaller. He'd grown a neatly trimmed, graying goatee and was calm and collected under his attorney's questions.

Grimes started off with questions about Williamson's relationship with the victim, Filemon Ramos, then moved onto the tattoos on the sides of his neck.

One meant death/rebirth, Williamson testified, the other meant evil and wicked. That's not exactly the kind of thing I'd want my attorney to be asking me about, but I figure Grimes would rather have that introduced on his terms, rather than when Deputy District Attorney Paula Gonzales had control.

Grimes led his client through the events of June 25, 2006, the day Williamson ended up with a pistol in his hand and Ramos ended up dead.

Williamson said he got up, went outside and kissed his Rottweiler good morning. He ate breakfast, which he said he didn't normally indulge in, but this time tucked into a spread of four pork chops, home fries and eight sausages in front of his television. Around 1 p.m., he fixed himself a cocktail of Cuervo Gold and Pepsi, then had some pals over to shoot the breeze and talk about a motorcycle he was looking to buy.

By nighttime, he went for a drive with his female friend, came back and picked up his son, Jacques, to get a bite to eat. As they left, they got into an argument with the Ramoses and their friends, who were playing soccer out in the street.

"They flipped us off, whether it was me, her or someone in the vehicle," Williamson testified. "I told her to stop the car. I was frustrated and I had a choice of words for them."

He didn't specify what that word choice was, but I'd guess they weren't "Howdy, neighbor, how ya doin'?"

The argument escalated, things got heated and, soon, the defendant was describing the positions of the people surrounding him.

"Where was Filiberto?" Grimes asked, referring to Filiberto Ramos, the deceased man's son whom Williamson also shot in the leg and buttock.
"Can I point at the jurors?" Williamson asked.

Grimes wisely didn't think that was such a hot idea. Using the people who will decide your fate on a murder beef as a stand in for a shooting victim could make them a little less sympathetic.

"No!" he said. "Let's not use the jurors. How about the railing? Or the table? Or the podium? Or me?"

When Gonzales took over, she adopted a decidedly more aggressive tack than when she had her own witnesses on the stand. She got Williamson to admit that he owned several unregistered guns, but he claimed he didn't own the Sig Sauer automatic the prosecution claims killed Ramos. Though Williamson testified he believed he was acting in self defense, she questioned why he just offered a "no comment" when a news crew asked him if he'd shot Ramos as he came to the police station to turn himself in.

"At that moment, sir, you're coming into admit you killed your neighbor," she said. "Isn't that the time to say, 'Hey, wait, I know this Filiberto kid and he tried to kill me?'"

Under Gonzales' questioning, Williamson was more sarcastic and condescending than when Grimes was in control. He said he was full of smart remarks and she went after him pretty hard whenever he dodged a question or tried to brush her off.

It'll be interesting to see how the jury reacts to his testimony. It's always a risky gambit to defend yourself -- you can either become more human in the eyes of the jurors or make yourself seem like even more of a jerk. Williamson played things pretty cool up there, but we'll see if it'll work.

"If I could go back to June 24, I wouldn't have been home June 25 or 26," he testified. "But I can't go back in time."

No! Not the yogurt!

I ran across this one early on the wire this morning. It seems that caterer Trish Weiner bought some Dannon yogurt and really didn't enjoy it. She blames bifidus regularis and L. casai immunitas. Dannon says the bacteria make you healthy. Weiner says they makes your mouth taste funny.
She wants a refund. And more than that, she wants a refund for everyone who bought the yogurt, which, as you'll see, adds up to a whole lotta cash.

A woman is suing the makers of Dannon yogurt, claiming the company overstates the health benefits of some of its products.
Trish Weiner alleges in her lawsuit, filed Wednesday in federal court in Los Angeles, that Dannon is engaging in a “massive and comprehensive” false advertising campaign for its DanActive, Activia and Activia Light yogurt lines.
Dannon claims the products can boost immunity and regulate digestion because of certain bacteria they contain. On its Web site, the company even references studies that it says support its claims.
But Weiner, who said she bought the products after seeing the advertising, said the bacteria aren’t so special.
“You’re hearing these scientific terms and you’re thinking that they have come up with something,” said Weiner, who owns a catering company. “But the only effect that it had on me was that it tasted poorly.”
Weiner wants class-action status for her suit — and wants Dannon to issue refunds to everyone in the United States who bought the products. An attorney for her said that could amount to as much as $300 million.
A spokesman for White Plains, N.Y.-based Dannon, a unit of France’s Groupe Danone, said Thursday that the company is reviewing the lawsuit.
“We stand by the claims of our products and the clinical studies that support them,” said Michael Neuwirth, Dannon’s senior director of public relations.
Dannon began marketing Activia and its “bifidus regularis” bacteria early 2006, with a woman in one ad recommending the yogurt to a friend to reduce bloating. The company launched DanActive a year later, claiming it contained “L. casai immunitas,” and was clinically proven to help improve the body’s immune system.
According to Brandweek magazine, sales of Activia grew 48% to $181.3 million in a year and DanActive sales rose 185% to $60 million.

I guess we'll see how that goes. Personally, I'm not too worried. I'm a Yoplait man, myself.

January 23, 2008

Cooley gets props for speaking up

Come to think of it, I was kind of sarcastic when I was writing this post last night, so I'm going to re-write it now.
It's rare when you see newspapers praising public officials, especially those in law enforcement and the justice system, for their transparency and candidness. But the California Newspapers Publishers Association did just that on Wednesday.

Los Angeles County District Attorney Steve Cooley won the Freedom of Information Award for his sponsorship of Senate Bill 690. He partnered with CNPA last year for the legislation, authored by Sen. Ron Calderon (D-Montebello), that gives the public and the press greater access to info about criminal charges and cases. It took effect on Jan. 1 and allows prosecutors to provide info on criminal charges and the outcome of the case if the defendant was sentenced more than 30 days before the request for info was made.

This is probably sounds kinda arcane, but it's actually really helpful, especially when dealing with law enforcement agencies who are less enthusiastic about chatting. Lots of times, when we see something on the arrest blotter or get some info from one agency, the right folks won't be around (or won't want to talk). But, as a result of that policy, Cooley's office can usually provide us with vital information for stories. And that is a very good thing, indeed.

And the defense calls.... Wyatt Earp.

Mr. Harnisch over at The Daily Mirror was kind enough to flag me on an interesting post this morning.

If you recall that boring murder trial that we discussed last week, well, it sounds like it got a whole lot more interesting, a few days in. The defense called Wyatt Earp to testify in the excitingly chronicled saga. The testimony of the famed gambler, constable and "Gun Man" doesn't show up in the text, but the Times' artist offered up a slammin' illustration. In my short time covering courts, I must say that I've never seen a witness with such a distinguished mustache.

January 22, 2008

Will the Andrew Luster drama never end?

And the answer to the question in the title is, of course, no.

It's been four years since we last heard of the cosmetics heir turned rapist turned fugitive. He's currently serving 124 years in the pen for his drugging, raping and videotaping adventures, but fear not, dear readers, his sleazy story lives on in court. According to a wire story at Dailynews.com:

A lawsuit by a woman who alleges that a videotape showing her being sexually assaulted by Max Factor heir Andrew Luster was given to the media by Luster's mother returns to court this week after a long hiatus, according to court papers obtained today.

Set for a status conference tomorrow before Los Angeles Superior Court Judge Elizabeth Allen White, the invasion of privacy suit was filed in January 2004 by a woman identified as Lynn Doe, but also known as Shawna Doe. She says Elizabeth Luster intentionally obtained a private videotape depicting the plaintiff from her son Andrew's home and made the contents public without her permission.

Elizabeth Luster gave the tape to CBS Broadcasting Inc., which broadcast an edited version of it and other Andrew Luster videotapes in February 2003, according to the suit.

The lawsuit has been on hold while Elizabeth Luster appealed a May 2005 ruling by Judge Jon M. Mayeda denying her motion to dismiss the complaint on grounds it violated her right to free speech. She appealed, but a three-justice panel of the 2nd District Court of Appeal affirmed Mayeda's ruling in November.

Luster is the 44-year-old great-grandson of cosmetics legend Max Factor Sr. According to the suit, the tape shows images of Lynn Doe sitting on a bed with Luster as he narrates the video and touches the upper part of her legs.

If you want the whole thing, click here.

Or, if you want a much more interesting story, check out an old story about Luster's wild nights on the lam, authored by the dude who went on to be my boss. Man, that guy was a pretty damn good writer....

January 21, 2008

Kiefer checks out

The enthusiastically middle named-actor Kiefer William Frederick Dempsey George Rufus Sutherland was the latest famous dude to find his way in and out of the justice system, completing his sentence on a deuce arrest early this morning. After getting caught for his second DUI in Beverly Hills on Sept 25, Jack Bauer decided to do his time in Glendale, skipping his birthday and Christmas in order to complete his whole sentence during the writers' strike and not interrupt "24" when it gets back to shooting. Unlike some of our other famed miscreants, such as our old pal Michelle Rodriguez, Mr. K. W. F. D. G. R. Sutherland did his whole sentence.

Let's hope he goes home and celebrates with a little grape juice.

Former "spy" gets tough on elephant matters

As I was ruminating about the other day, Los Angeles is an awesome city. I've re-read this story several times and still can't figure out entirely what's going on.

Citing declarations by experts who contend the Los Angeles Zoo has a history of abusing and neglecting its elephants, actor/animal activist Robert Culp wants a judge to order the immediate closure of the pachyderm exhibit and stop work on its expansion, court papers show.

In a lawsuit filed Aug. 2 against the city and zoo director John Lewis, Culp and real estate agent Aaron Leider maintain zoo authorities have withheld medical care, kept the animals confined in a small area and used bull hooks and electric shock to control them.

The Los Angeles Zoo's elephant exhibit is currently home to a lone pachyderm -- 21-year-old Billy.

After prevailing against the city's motion in October contesting the legal sufficiency of the suit, the men now want a preliminary injunction shutting down the exhibit and stopping the ongoing construction pending trial of their lawsuit, which seeks to make both steps permanent.

A hearing is set for Feb. 6.

A guy who used to play a spy opposite Bill Cosby? A pachyderm? A real estate agent? This stuff doesn't happen in Duluth, dear readers.

Back story on the Eriberto Rodriguez case

My apologies for the dearth of posts as of late. Unlike my old crime-blogging days, where the weekend yielded plenty of fodder, it's a little slow on weekends and holidays, court-wise. I meant to update the Jury finds apartment owner liable for employee's alleged murderous habits post from late Thursday, but got caught up in the usual weekend rush. And so now, with courts closed for Martin Luther King Jr. Day, I'm finally getting my act together.

Here's the story from Saturday....

In an unusual civil case with little legal precedent, a jury has found a Burbank apartment owner and manager liable in the death of a former tenant because they hired a convicted felon and registered sex offender as a handyman.

The Los Angeles Superior Court jury returned a $10.8 million verdict against Scott Villa Apartments L.P. and Francis Property Management Inc. for hiring Eriberto Rodriguez, 46, who worked as a maintenance man at the complex in the 1500 block of Scott Road, where Sharon Santos lived when she disappeared in 2004.

The jury also awarded a $1.2 million verdict against Rodriguez, who is in prison for an unrelated offense.

Santos, an analyst with Warner Bros., was raped and killed, then stuffed into the trunk of her car. The Burbank Police Department is still investigating the case, and nobody has been arrested.

To give you some background, this was a weird story from the beginning. We got a press release from the lawyer representing Edna Santos, the victim's mother, at 6 p.m. on Thursday, right as I was packing up to go home. I wrote that initial story, which ended up holding, then came back at it on Friday morning. With some timely assistance from Jason and Mr. Dobuzinskis, I managed to rope it all together around 4:30 p.m.

To get some of the files, I had to go to the records room at the Stanley Mosk Courthouse. They didn't have the files I needed, but let me use the public terminal, which is not-so-conveniently located behind a glass wall similar to what you see at a bank. You reach through a little slot to use the keyboard and mouse, then crank your neck over to see the screen, all while people are bustling around you. Suffice to say, it's not the most comfortable arrangement.

By the end, I had what I needed and was able to get to writing. There were a bunch of weird legal issues to wade through:

- The civil case, with a two-year statute of limitations, beat the criminal case to trial.
- Rodriguez's employers are held liable for misdeeds for which he's never been formally accused.
- He's been convicted and sent to prison on very similar charges, sexual battery and breaking into people's apartments where Ms. Santos lived, but there's no formal allegation he did the same to her.
- The DNA evidence from her car still hasn't come back from the Sheriff's crime lab. Unlike CSI would lead you to believe, these things take a lot of time to make it through the system.

And there's probably more than that, too. I hope we coherently sketched out what's at stake here and will be able to revisit it later on, if and when the DA's able to bring criminal charges. In the meantime, at least he's not going anywhere.

January 18, 2008

Just another perfect day

I was headed down in the elevator at the CCB this morning, after a fruitless hearing on the Juan Manuel Alvarez case. To my right are two nicely dressed Chinese kids, Abercrombie types. To the left, a pair of attorneys stand discussing what sounded like a statutory rape rap for a client that wasn't going well.

A couple floors down, a pelon cholo gets on, wearing baggy shorts in spite of the 42 degree heat outside. He's got the Dodgers logo tatted under his Adam's apple, "City of Angels" on the back of his neck and script ink where his eyebrows used to be.

Another floor below that, an LAPD detective in a suit, his badge and his strap visible on his belt, hustles for the door. The veterano puts his hand out and holds the elevator for the cop. The attorneys keep yakking away.

And we're all there, the kids, the cop, the gangster and the starchy old men, with me smack in the middle. Some days, I love LA.

Speaking of cyber crime...

After all that yakking yesterday for the Amor Hilton story, I ran across this post on my old pal and former colleague Brad Greenberg's site, The God Blog.

Our competitors at the Times dug up a very interesting twist to the tragic Megan Meier saga. Though the alleged cyber-bullying took place in Missouri, Mr. Lait and Ms. Huffstutter report that a federal grand jury in Los Angeles is subpoenaing people based on the novel notion that it has jurisdiction since MySpace is based in Beverly Hills. It's too complicated for me to do it justice, so I'd recommend you just check out the Times piece. Nice sleuthing, guys, and if that goes anywhere, that would be a heck of a way to resolve an otherwise godawful situation.