Feb. 13 CALIFORNIA: Aryan Inmate Capital Trials to Start----0Informants are plentiful as the biggest death penalty case on record seeks to break the prison gang in the same way the Mafia was decades ago. Armed with a shank, Barry "The Baron" Mills, the kingpin of the Aryan Brotherhood prison gang, nearly decapitated an inmate in a bathroom stall for hoarding drugs. Edgar "The Snail" Hevle, a trusted lieutenant in the Brotherhood, allegedly arranged for the murder of a prisoner who threw a packet of sugar at him, a slight he apparently considered worthy of a violent death. And Tommy "Terrible Tom" Silverstein, who had earned his stripes by killing three inmates, escaped from his shackles on the way back from the prison showers and killed a guard by stabbing him 20 times. Acts of brutality and callous retribution among the ranks of the nation's most hardened criminals provide the bedrock of the largest capital case filed in U.S. history, against Aryan Brotherhood leaders, which will begin to unfold in courtrooms in Los Angeles and Santa Ana in the coming weeks. At least 8 convicts, some already serving life sentences and doomed to spend their days in solitary confinement, may get the death penalty if convicted of murder in the upcoming federal racketeering trials. Prosecutors are still deciding whether to seek the death penalty for 8 others. With the aim of winning capital sentences for crimes committed in prison, the case - which involves 32 counts of murder and attempted murder - is designed to dismantle the Aryan Brotherhood in much the same way the feds took apart the mob decades ago. Beyond eliminating key gang leaders by putting them on death row, prosecutors hope the sheer number of gang members they have been able to turn into informants will cripple the Brotherhood. In a prison note intercepted by authorities, Mills said any Brotherhood defectors should be wiped off "the face of the Earth!" "It's likely necessary for us to step-up and conduct a thorough evaluation of every brother's personal character and level of commitment, as we currently possess some serious rot that is in fact potentially a cancer!" he wrote in the note. Defense attorneys said the government's case was flawed, resting on the premise that inmates locked in solitary confinement can operate an elaborate interstate criminal enterprise and that prison snitches are reliable sources. Attorneys for the inmates are seeking to suppress the testimony of a group of informants they say were housed together at a "supermax" federal penitentiary in Florence, Colo. The defense says "the snitches" were coached by prosecutors and provided with information so they could be convincing on the witness stand. To win such testimony, defense attorneys say, informants were bribed with pornographic magazines, restaurant meals, Nike shoes, video game players and, in one case, a sexual rendezvous. Mills' attorney said the suggestion that his client could orchestrate the murders of inmates in Pennsylvania while he was serving time in the Colorado "supermax" is absurd. The federal courtroom in Santa Ana where four of the inmates are going on trial, including leaders Mills and T.D. "The Hulk" Bingham, is heavily fortified. There's an extra metal detector, a small army of plainclothes U.S. marshals and a specially constructed defendants' table, designed so jurors can't see that the inmates are chained to the floor. There have been several instances of courtroom violence involving Brotherhood gang members, including a trial during which an inmate stabbed his attorney four times. Security is such a concern that U.S. District Judge David O. Carter said that if one of the defense witnesses - "Terrible Tom" Silverstein, the Aryan Brotherhood leader who murdered the prison guard - appeared in his Santa Ana courtroom, he would be bound in restraints similar to those for Hannibal "The Cannibal" Lecter in the movie "Silence of the Lambs." Federal prosecutors allege that the leaders of the Aryan Brotherhood orchestrated dozens of hits over two decades inside and outside maximum-security prisons across the country, using a 3-man commission that would approve the slayings. An additional 4 defendants will be on trial but will not face the death penalty. "We live in a mean, ugly world," said one of the gang's top leaders, Michael Patrick "Big Mac" McElhiney, at his 1994 federal trial for trafficking heroin in prison. He's targeted for the death penalty in the coming trial, after a number of prison killings. "We try to aspire to be better, but not according to your value system. That's why we're in prison. We don't obey your laws. We don't agree with them. We make our own laws." Prosecutors contend that for years, despite being locked in their cells for 23 hours a day and isolated from other prisoners, Brotherhood leaders engaged in a Mafia-style operation of drug trafficking, extortion and approved hits. Orders would be given in creative ways: tapping out Morse code on the prison floors and walls, shouting ancient Aztec words that Brotherhood members would understand and heed, and using family and friends to pass along demands. Prosecutors say the Aryans also used coded notes, some written in urine that acted like invisible ink. For face-to-face meetings, the inmates - serving as their own attorneys for prison crimes - would subpoena their associates. In 2004, in a trial that served as a precursor to the current ones, a federal jury deadlocked on whether to convict an Aryan Brotherhood leader, David Sahakian, and two associates on murder and conspiracy charges in the 1999 death of a black inmate in the federal prison in Marion, Ill. In all, 20 defendants will be tried in three courtrooms. 40 were originally charged; 19 reached plea bargains and one has died. U.S. District Judge George H. King in Los Angeles will preside over a trial involving 11 defendants, scheduled to begin this month. Before another Los Angeles federal judge, five more defendants are expected to be tried in October. But in what promises to be the case's main attraction, the Brotherhood's two kingpins, Mills and No. 2 man Bingham, are scheduled to go on trial Feb. 27 in Santa Ana. Together, prosecutors say, the pair are responsible for sanctioning most of the 32 murders and attempted murders listed in the indictment. The death penalty counts for Mills and Bingham stem from the murders of 2 black inmates in a prison in Lewisburg, Pa. They will be tried along with Edgar "The Snail" Hevle and Christopher O. Gibson, 2 associates accused of murder and attempted murder. Prospective jurors have been told the trial could take nine months. During jury selection now underway, Bingham hardly looked like a prison superthug. Dressed in a new button-down shirt and slacks and wearing wire-rimmed glasses, he had an avuncular appearance. He often stroked his walrus mustache, traded jokes with one of his attorneys and nodded politely when introduced to a prospective juror across the courtroom. Only the bulk beneath his shirt hinted at Bingham's history as one of the most feared men in the U.S. federal prison system. Having reportedly once bench-pressed 500 pounds, he has a Star of David on one arm, to reflect his Jewish heritage, and a swastika on the other. Mills' appearance was professorial. He wore a gray button-down shirt, slacks and tortoiseshell glasses that slipped down the bridge of his nose. His shaved head gleamed from the court lights. He, too, nodded politely at each potential juror. He didn't look like the boss of America's most feared prison gang, which once approved the killing of an inmate who bumped a Brotherhood member during a basketball game. The guilty party was stabbed 71 times and had his eyes gouged out. In 1964, a group of white inmates in San Quentin began to organize in the prison yard, forming a group to protect themselves against a black militant gang. They eventually merged with other white gangs and called themselves the Aryan Brotherhood, also known in prison vernacular as the Brand. They marked themselves with identifying tattoos: a shamrock in tribute to the Irish heritage of many members, swastikas and "666," the biblical sign of Satan. Membership requirements were simple: "Blood in, blood out." Inmates had to kill someone to join the Aryan Brotherhood, and death was the only way out. When one Aryan brother received protection from prison officials in exchange for his testimony, gang leaders ordered a hit on the informant's father. Government reports and court documents track the Brotherhood's evolution: As the gang flourished and spread to other prisons, its leaders decided they needed a summit to formalize the structure of the growing Aryan Brotherhood. They met at the California Institute for Men in Chino, summoned there by subpoenas wielded by member inmates charged with prison crimes and acting as their own attorneys. For more than a year in the early '80s, Brotherhood leaders met daily in the prison yard to hammer out their business model for running drugs and regulating violence. They opted for a tiered government structure, with a 3-man commission that had to approve any murder or assault on a Brand member. But snitches could be killed without approval. They also relaxed the "Blood in" rule, conceding that they needed different kinds of talent to run their operation. Authorities said the Aryan Brotherhood began to recruit explosives experts, chemists, people with legal backgrounds and those who would be able to run scams inside and outside the prison. In 1997, U.S. Atty. Greg Jessner, who had successfully prosecuted one Aryan Brotherhood murder case, launched an investigation designed to use racketeering laws to take out the leadership of the Brand. In recent years, federal prosecutors have used racketeering statues to successfully prosecute members of several prison gangs, including 29 members of the Aryan Circle in Texas and 10 members of the Nazi Low Riders in California. The investigation by Jessner, working with the FBI, prison officials and what was then named the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms, resulted in a 110-page federal grand jury indictment that led to the arrest in 2002 of 40 alleged leaders of the Brand and their associates. It's unclear how badly damaged the Aryan Brotherhood will be if the government wins the case. Prison experts say the leadership vacuum will be quietly filled with other inmates, though they will be less experienced. "In some respects, it's more an issue of justice than wiping out the Aryan Brotherhood," said Mark Pitcavage, director of fact-finding for the Anti-Defamation League and an expert on prison gangs. Jessner, who has now opened his family law practice and won't be prosecuting the case, said he didn't know what effect a successful prosecution would have on the Brand. But he did know one thing: "If Mills gets the death penalty and gets put to death, that will deter him." (source: Los Angeles Times) OHIO: Ex-Death Row inmate may go free----Parole board recommends release of killer in '76 case A 56-year-old man, removed from death row in 1978 when the U.S. Supreme Court threw out Ohio's previous death penalty, could be paroled from prison. The Ohio Parole Board has recommended his release and meets in March for a final decision. Nancy Taylor, a cousin of the victim, Paul J. Krista of Kettering, said the family was notified after Robert E. Melchior was given a release date of Feb. 6. A parole board spokeswoman said a family member was notified Jan. 10 following a closed hearing Dec. 5 that led to a release recommendation. The board stopped the release Jan. 13 and ordered a full, public hearing for March 13. "It's just awful that the families have to go through this," Taylor said. "It's up to us to get this stopped." Rhonda Barner, head of the Montgomery County prosecutor's victim-witness division, said a prosecutor has been assigned to intervene in Melchior's case on behalf of Krista's family. Melchior would be the a4th defendant from among seven in the region who were on death row in 1978 when the U.S. Supreme Court intervened and declared unconstitutional Ohio's death penalty law of the time. He would be the 3rd released, and the 1st from Montgomery County, Barner said. Since 1996, the parole board has released two defendants from a 1977 slaying in Springfield and one from a Greene County case. Staff members from both of those prosecutors' offices said they were never notified of the pending releases. A spokeswoman for the parole board said there were no listed victim or survivor contacts for those convicts. Melchior was convicted in the Jan. 23, 1976, fatal stabbing of Krista, 34, an employee of the Dayton Daily News. Krista's sister found his body at his Kettering apartment after learning from his supervisor that he failed to report for work in the newspaper's circulation department. The 2 men met at a gay bar and went to Krista's home, where he was robbed and stabbed, prosecutors said. Melchior, then 27, claimed he killed in self-defense after his planned robbery turned violent when Krista grabbed a knife. Melchior was sentenced to death in 1976, and the U.S. Supreme Court overturned the state's death penalty in 1978. The current death penalty law was enacted in the early 1980s. (source: Dayon Daily News) ************** Bank-robbery defendant could face death penalty ----Federal jury to hear about off-duty officer killed in shootout At 28, Daryl Lawrence was a high-school dropout with nowhere jobs when suddenly he was decked out in jewelry and fine clothes, driving a Chrysler 300, Chevrolet Suburban or Mercedes-Benz. Lawrence, whose criminal record until then had amounted to traffic tickets and a conviction on a misdemeanor charge of receiving stolen property, began spending wildly after he robbed a Fifth Third Bank on E. Broad Street of $202,000 on Jan. 21, 2004, assistant U.S. attorneys David DeVillers and Michael Burns say in court documents. When the money ran out, Lawrence robbed a Key Bank on N. Cleveland Avenue of $7,000 on Aug. 12 that year, but that money didnt last long, prosecutors say. Weeks later, on Sept. 8, he robbed a Sky Bank on Bethel Road of $84,910. On Jan. 6, 2005, Lawrence returned to the Fifth Third at 6265 E. Broad St. He cruised by several times and the bank looked the same as before, he later told police. He didnt know that the bank had hired special-duty officers after the 1st robbery, nor did he see Columbus Police Officer Bryan Hurst in the lobby. Hurst was working the extra job partly to make up for lost income. His wife, Marissa, had been wrongly denied long-term leave and was fired from her job as a Delaware County deputy after her pregnancy. Lawrence said he parked in an apartment complex nearby, walked to the bank with his hood up, pulled a mask over his face and held a silver pistol. As he entered, two people came toward him and he ordered them back. He then ran to the counter, saw Hurst and repeatedly fired at him. Hurst fired back, striking Lawrence in the hand. Hurst was the first Columbus police officer killed while guarding a bank, according to the Division of Police. Now Lawrence, 30, could become the 1st defendant from Ohio on federal death row. If hes found guilty of killing Hurst, the best Lawrence can hope for is life in prison with no chance of release. Prosecutors, defense attorneys and U.S. District Judge Gregory L. Frost will begin seating jurors today for a trial expected to last as long as six weeks. The jury will be drawn from 30 counties in the southern half of Ohio. Lawrence has pleaded not guilty to three counts of bank robbery by force, three counts of using a gun during the crimes, 1 count of causing death during a bank robbery and 1 count of causing death during a violent crime. His attorneys, Diane M. Menashe and Kort Walter Gatterdam, have filed 40 motions on his behalf, and prosecutors have responded to them all. Frost has issued 28 orders preparing for the trial, which will proceed in 3 phases. The 1st phase is a traditional trial. Jurors will hear testimony, see evidence and decide whether Lawrence is guilty of the 8 charges. They will see a surveillance videotape of a man entering the bank, charging Hurst and shooting. They will see Lawrence admitting during a videotaped interview with police that he killed Hurst and robbed banks. DeVillers and Burns may present fingerprint and DNA evidence that they contend proves Lawrence was the shooter. They may call witnesses to testify that upon his arrest 3 days after the robbery, Lawrence told officers where to find his journal, in which he wrote about the shooting, and that in police headquarters, Lawrence apologized three times to officers in the hallways, court documents say. If jurors find Lawrence guilty of the last two charges, for which he faces the death penalty, they will move to the eligibility phase of the trial. Here, jurors must find that Lawrence killed Hurst intentionally or with disregard and that he caused grave risk of harm to others or killed Hurst expecting to receive something of financial value. If the jury finds against Lawrence, the sentencing phase will begin. Hursts family and friends will be permitted to tell jurors how his death has affected them. Marissa Hurst, who returned to work a year ago, would only say she plans to speak in court. Lawrences attorneys will present evidence to show the jury that Lawrence should be spared the death penalty. The jury will then decide Lawrences fate. Violent bank robberies remain rare in central Ohio, and Hursts death has not changed security measures, said FBI Agent Harry Trombitas. "I suppose you could build a bank like Fort Knox, but banks have to balance security with creating a friendly environment for their customers," he said. "If somebodys hell-bent on coming in and robbing a bank, thats something you cant prevent." (source: Columbus Dispatch) ALABAMA: Timeout needed on executions Alabama's death penalty system is flawed on so many fronts the Legislature could spend most of its session on the issue and still not fix it all. The best answer would be to suspend executions for a few years to give legislators and other officials time to address the frightening problems plaguing a system that takes peoples' lives. But so far, a bill that would provide the time and space for that review has failed to get enough votes to become a reality. Just this past week, the three-year moratorium bill stalled in the Senate Judiciary Committee on a 4-4 vote. The measure could come up again, but time is wasting, and the moratorium has an uphill battle in the full Legislature. The Judiciary Committee needs to reconsider the moratorium and pass it quickly to give it as much chance as possible to get full legislative approval. To give credit where due, the committee did pass an important death-penalty bill - one that would strip circuit judges of the power to impose a death sentence against a jury's wishes. This awesome power of life and death is too great to rest with judges who must run for re-election and are sometimes under intense pressure to be tough on crime. Few other states grant judges this kind of power, and nowhere else is the power used so freely and often. About 20 percent of Alabama Death Row inmates would have been sentenced to life without parole if juries had the final say on punishment in capital cases. Remember, these aren't bleeding-heart juries, either. They are made up of people who are required to support capital punishment and be willing to impose it. Their conclusions about a death sentence should bear much more weight than they do now under Alabama law. The bill that would put these decisions in juries' hands still must clear the full Senate and House. Legislators should say yes to this sensible reform. But legislators should not stop there. The moratorium bill provides the needed window for our state to assess other crucial issues of fairness and accuracy with the death penalty. As it stands, Alabama can't claim to apply the death penalty fairly or only to people who can be held fully accountable for their crimes; to provide proper legal representation to those accused of capital crimes; or even to offer valid assurances that innocent people won't be put to death. A moratoriaum is badly needed, and legislators need to make it happen. (source: Opinion, Birmingham News)
