A Day To Laugh Out Loud

By Lisa R. Cohen

Tradition has it here at Women in Crime Ink that this day be marked with a twinkle in the eye. Crime is a serious business, but the sad fact is often criminals don't have any other way to earn a living because... they are so dumb. I had fun trolling through the many websites that celebrate just how dumb they can be.

Here are some of my favorites. I used the very scientific LOL gold standard - if the stupidity of the perp literally had me laughing out loud, it made the cut.

From the folks at Cader Books: "...In the early hours of the morning, in June 1995, Mike Cyprian ducked into a restaurant in Hammond, Louisiana, to make a phone call. He left his car engine running and his nine-foot python lounging uncaged inside. When Cyprian came out of the restaurant he saw his car in a different spot and a man running away.

...While lightening the load of a security van by $160,000 in May 1995, two robbers in Arlington, Texas, foolishly ignored the 23 Japanese tourists nearby. Although none of the visitors spoke English, they silently handed police 39 photos of the getaway car's license plate. The men were arrested soon after.

...Klaus Schmidt, 41, burst into a Berlin bank in August 1995, waved a pistol, and screamed "Hand over the money!" When staff asked if he wanted a bag, he replied "Damn right it's a real gun!" Guessing Schmidt was deaf, the manager set off the alarm, saying later, "It was ridiculously loud, but he didn't seem to notice." After five minutes punctuated by Schmidt occasionally shouting "I am a trained killer!" police arrived and arrested him. Schmidt then sued the bank, accusing them of exploiting his disability.

...Bob Briggs, 24, owner of a Domino's Pizza restaurant in Independence, Missouri, dressed as a giant red rabbit and stood in the road to attract business. In August 1991, he was knocked unconscious by Bobo the Clown, who was promoting a Pizza Hut across the road. Briggs declined to press charges, which is perhaps unfortunate as it would have made an interesting court case."

From a website simply called Stupid Criminals: "...a burglar broke into a Norwegian grammar school – and solved some maths problems. Nothing was stolen in the raid on a school in Klaebu, reports Aftenposten, quoting Adresseavisen. But the intruder did take on a mathematics test intended for third grade students. And, according to local law enforcement officials, he – or she – did a good job, solving all the problems correctly.

...A nurse and two cameramen were arrested at the Munich beer festival for filming a porn movie on the city’s famous big wheel. The 21-year-old registered nurse, unnamed due to German privacy laws, and her two acquaintances were spotted ‘filming sexual acts’ by three Italian tourists in another carriage of the ride. The Oktoberfest tourists alerted authorities, who detained the nurse and the filmmakers – a 25-year-old student and a 30-year-old teacher. Munich police released a statement saying, 'The trio were spotted in the carriage with filming equipment. The 21-year-old suddenly disrobed and produced a sex toy that she began to use while the other two filmed her.'” The three have been charged with public indecency.

...Memo to robbers: Don’t hold up the establishment where you’re trying to get a job.

Megan A. Whittaker, 35, of Menasha, Wisconsin, was arrested Sunday and accused of holding up the local Q-Mart convenience store. Cops say she brandished a toy gun and forced the clerk to open the register. Identification was easy — Whittaker was a regular customer and had recently applied for a job at the store, reported the Oshkosh Northwestern newspaper. Whittaker realized during the robbery that the clerk knew her, police said. So she told the clerk she was her own twin sister. Cops found Whittaker at her apartment, along with the $181 and case of beer that had been taken from the store.

She faces up to $100,000 in fines and a 40-year prison sentence."

Then there was the Ashland Kentucky man who wasn't going to be deterred when he lost his standard issue ski mask.

"...Police say Kasey Kazee entered Shamrock Liquors and attempted to rob the store. Employees were astonished that he had disguised his face by wrapping it in duct tape! The store manager chased him out with a baseball bat and an employee held him in the parking lot until police arrived. Police removed the duct tape after taking pictures, and arrested Kazee, who denied any memory of the incident."

Sometimes it's a toss-up as to whether the criminal is stupid, or just plain wacko. And at CrazyCriminals.com they found some of the wackiest:

"...In Bent Forks, Illinois, kidnappers of ice-cube magnate Worth Bohnke sent a photograph of their captive to Bohnke's family. Bohnke was seen holding up a newspaper. It was not that day's edition and, in fact, bore a prominent headline relating to Nixon's trip to China. This was pointed out to the kidnappers in a subsequent phone call. They responded by sending a new photograph showing an up-to-date newspaper. Bohnke, however, did not appear in the picture. When this, too, was refused, the kidnappers became peevish and insisted that a photograph be sent to them showing all the people over at Bohnke's house holding different issues of Success Magazine. They provided a mailing address and were immediately apprehended.

They later admitted to FBI agents they did not understand the principle involved in the photograph/newspaper concept. 'We thought it was just some kind of tradition,' said one.

...Police in Los Angeles had good luck with a robbery suspect who just couldn't control himself during a lineup. When detectives asked each man in the lineup to repeat the words, 'Give me all your money or I'll shoot,' the man shouted, 'That's not what I said!'

...The two suspects had been apprehended and now sat in a courtroom at the defendant's table. A witness was on the stand being asked questions by the prosecutor. 'And ma'am you say you were robbed of your purse on the street?' Yes sir, the witness answered. 'And the two men who robbed you, are they here in the courtroom today?' Before the witness could answer both defendants raised their hands. The judge and jury laughed openly.

...In Redondo Beach, California., a police officer arrested a driver after a short chase and charged him with drunk driving. Officer Joseph Fonteno's suspicions were aroused when he saw the white Mazda MX-7 rolling down Pacific Coast Highway with half of a traffic-light pole, including the lights, lying across its hood. The driver had hit the pole on a median strip and simply kept driving. According to Fonteno, when the driver was asked about the pole, he said, 'It came with the car when I bought it.''

And this one's not laugh out loud funny, but I thought the guy should have gotten off for outsmarting the judge. I doubt it though.

"A lawyer defending a man accused of burglary tried this creative defense: 'My client merely inserted his arm into the window and removed a few trifling articles. His arm is not himself, and I fail to see how you can punish the whole individual for an offense committed by his limb.' 'Well put," the judge replied. 'Using your logic, I sentence the defendant's arm to one year's imprisonment. He can accompany it or not, as he chooses.' The defendant smiled. With his lawyer's assistance he detached his artificial limb, laid it on the bench, and walked out."

In closing I leave you with my favorite crime joke for April Fool's. It's my favorite because it's so absurd, it's got talking animals, and most of all, because it was told to me by Willie Nelson (to be fair, he told me and four other people in the room, but still...):

...A duck walks into a bar and says to the bartender, "Got any grapes?" The bartender says, "No, we don't have any grapes here."

The duck leaves.

The next day, the duck comes back. "Got any grapes?" he says to the bartender. "I told you," says the bartender grimly, "we don't sell grapes." The duck leaves.

Next day, the duck is back. "Got any grapes?" he asks, and now the bartender is pissed. "Look," he says to the duck, "I told you once, I told you twice, we don't sell grapes here. If you ask me again, I'm going to nail your feet to the bar." The duck leaves.

The next day, the duck is back.

"Got any nails?" he asks the bartender.

"No, we don't have any nails," is the answer.

"Good," says the duck. "Got any grapes?"

Happy April Fools!

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The Prosecutor's New Clothes and Amanda Knox

by Mark Waterbury, PhD., with Anne Bremner

We all remember the tale of The Emperor’s New Clothes, by Hans Christian Andersen. Charlatans convinced the vain Emperor that they could weave fabric so fine, so beautiful, that only an idiot or incompetent would fail to see it. Not wanting to admit that he couldn’t see the fabric himself, the Emperor bought a pricey outfit and paraded about before his people.

The people, not wanting to be thought of as idiots or incompetents, all praised his fine clothes. They outdid one another in describing the beauty of the fabric and how perfectly it all fit together.

It was left to a child to point out the obvious: The Emperor had no clothes. Once the child spoke, the floodgates opened and everyone could admit the truth that lay before their eyes all along.

Now, at the appeal of Amanda Knox and Raffaele Sollecito in their trial for the murder of Meredith Kercher in Perugia, Italy, we see prosecutor Giuliano Mignini’s absurd charade of guilt coming apart at the seams. The prosecutor, it seems, has no clothes either. Much of the unraveling took place in just the last week. First, a report from court-appointed independent experts who are reviewing the DNA profiling evidence on two items claimed to be critical by the prosecution, was leaked to Italian media.

The experts report that they have found nothing. No blood on a kitchen knife that the prosecution claimed was the murder weapon, not even between the blade and the handle where it would have surely been wicked up and trapped. Neither did they find enough DNA to profile. The finding that there is no DNA or blood anywhere on the knife marks the beginning of the end for that critical item of evidence.

That result was not a surprise. It was an ordinary kitchen knife that did not match the wounds, did not match an imprint left at the scene, no blood was found on it in the first round of tests with TMB, and the profiler system reported “too low” for DNA. But it had woven, like the Emperor’s invisible fabric, into apparently damning evidence with a breathtakingly simplistic line, “Amanda’s DNA on the handle, Meredith’s on the blade.” Only an idiot or incompetent could fail to see that that meant guilt.

When presented in court it was carried in its own glass case, under armed guard in a melodramatic show. It was scientific nonsense, and now everyone can see it. That knife had nothing to do with the crime. It was also the beginning of the end for the bra clasp that was literally kicked around on the floor by investigators for 47 days, dug out from under a throw rug, dropped back on the floor, then finally retrieved.

The prosecution had no physical evidence whatsoever that associated Raffaele with the crime. So, they sent a team back in after the 47 days to fetch some in the form of that clasp. We learned from that same leaked report that there is no DNA to be found on the clasp. It was claimed by the prosecution to have contamination-level DNA on it from an unknown number of sources, one of them possibly being Raffaele. But now, nothing can be found. Why? Because it seems, the clasp has been stored, for years, in a jar of liquid. Not only has any DNA long since rotted away, the clasp itself has actually rusted. Any competent forensic investigator knows that DNA samples must be kept dry or they will decompose.

This leaves us with a question similar to ones that seem to come up again and again in this case while analyzing the prosecution, their forensics experts, and the judges in the court of first instance. Were they really so incompetent as to not know this? Or could it be that the destruction of the clasp evidence was not a mistake? We may never know. All that is certain is that the clasp will go down as a kind of monument to bad evidence handling.

The prosecutor’s new clothes looked even shabbier when Monica Napoleoni, the head of the polizia unit in charge of the hotly disputed interrogations of both Raffaele and Amanda, failed to show up to testify in court. The astonished judge fined her 300 Euros. There was a recess while they tried to contact her, but she could not be found. Oops! Got the wrong day of the week? The prosecution said that they didn’t really need her after all, but she will be summoned nevertheless. It is not the first time.

Why is it that key witnesses for the prosecution seem to no longer want to appear in court? But it was the testimony of Antonio Curatollo, also known as Toto, a perpetually homeless heroin addict that most clearly laid bare the prosecutor’s new clothes. Toto had been hailed as a “Superwitness,” a role he had practice at playing since this was no less than his third appearance as a critical witness in a murder trial. The man doesn’t get around much, but a lot must go down within sight of his perch on the park bench where he lived.

Toto testified in the trial that he saw Amanda and Raffaele engaging in a heated discussion in the plaza near her home, hanging out for hours on the evening of the murder. This contradicted their alibis that they were at Raffaele’s apartment that night. There were deep problems with Toto’s testimony from the outset, but these had been papered over, and he had emerged as the single, solitary, prosecution eyewitness who the defendants were near the crime scene. He had testified that he was sure of the night and the time because people had costumes on, and there were buses taking people off to the discos.

Trouble is, the buses and costumes are recollections of Halloween night, the night before the murder took place. There were neither costumes nor buses on the night of the murder, November 1, All Saint’s Day, a more sober holiday.

In answer to a question from the presiding judge, Toto explained that although he was addicted to heroin at the time of the events, heroin was not a hallucinogen. He replied that he lived “at home” when asked about his residence, but home turned out to be Capanne prison, where he is serving a sentence for sale of Heroin. He was uncertain about what day Halloween falls on and professed not to know why he is in prison. He was clear about where he relieved himself, in the bushes near the plaza. An assistant prosecutor, Manuela Commodi, dismissed Toto’s multiple contradictions, saying that it doesn’t matter that he confused the night of the murder with Halloween, since we know where Amanda and Raffaele were on Halloween.

But the leaked report, the no-show, and the almost-childlike statements of a bewildered man have now spoken for all to hear, and revealed for all to see - the prosecutor has no case.

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Casey Anthony Drama Approaches Final Act

By Diane Fanning

As we get closer and closer to the trial of Casey Anthony for the murder of her toddler daughter Caylee, it is looking more likely that the end will be anticlimatic.  Instead of terminating in one explosive scene after another on a tense courtroom stage, it appears as if it will end with an abrupt drop of the curtain as Casey whispers "guilty."  A last minute plea bargain seems nearly inevitable.

I know a lot of people will disagree with me saying that Casey is too narcissistic to accept any level of responsibility for her actions, and her lead attorney Jose Baez is too arrogant and media-hungry to let this one go.  Those arguments have merit.  But many stubborn clients have succumbed when they truly accept the real possibility that the curtain call will be a lethal injection.

You see the signs of willingness to deal on both sides.  Baez is acting reckless with the judge--burning bridges through neglect and frontal assault.  He's missed the judge's deadlines even after being cited for the same offense.  Then last week, he topped it all with a motion for a rehearing.  He wrote that Judge Perry had inaccurate facts and was biased.  He didn't ask the judge to recuse himself.  He simply threw a gauntlet.

The defense did have a point--albeit a small one.  The judge did incorrectly describe the room where Casey had her initial lengthy discussion with law enforcement but everyone understood his meaning.   Did Baez and costar Cheney Mason really think the judge would give them a do-over by allowing a rehearing?  If they did, they were wrong.  He denied that request, like so many others.

The victim: Caylee Anthony

The defense is also sounding desperate.  Baez's voice even quavered during arguments about evidence last week.  He's acting like a man who knows that if he can't get the evidence thrown out, he doesn't have a chance at trial.  I'm surprised he hasn't filed a motion denying the existence of Caylee Anthony.

Before this week is out, they'll all be back in the courtroom where Baez and Mason will argue about the inclusion at trial of the stain in the car trunk, all references to the smell of the car and dismissal of any mentions of the heart sticker placed on the duct tape fastened over little Caylee's mouth.

Judge Perry may give him one or two wins in his mountains of motions but not enough to weaken the state's case appreciably. Baez is not the country's most brilliant legal mind but even he can understand how dire things look for his client.

On the other side of the aisle, the prosecutors are feeling the pressure of budgetary concerns and the ruling that there has been sufficient pre-trial publicity to warrant not selecting jurors from Orlando or Orange County.  Rather than make a change of venue, Judge Perry decided to import a jury from elsewhere.

When Ninth Judicial Circuit Court spokesman Karen Levey estimated the cost of supporting that sequestered jury for eight weeks would be $360,000, an outcry arose.  Lydia Gardner, the clerk of circuit courts in Orange County said that without more funding from the state senate, the court could not afford a trial for Casey Anthony.  Florida, like just about every other state in the Union, is seeking to cut expenses, not to find places to dole out taxpayer dollars.

To me, it seems the stage is set for a plea bargain.  And it could come at the very last moment.  I sat in the courtroom on the first day of jury selection for the Richard McFarland trial and it happened right before my eyes.  I found it hard to believe that an agreement was not reached before that moment in time.

Will the players in the Casey Anthony drama all gather on the stage before a packed courtroom audience and the eager cameras of In Session for a performance that will never begin?  Or will the show go on?

May 9 is less than six weeks away.

Diane Fanning is the author of MOMMY'S LITTLE GIRL, the only published book about the tragic fate of little Caylee Anthony.  When the Casey Anthony trial begins, you'll find daily updates of the case on Diane Fanning's blog, Writing is a Crime.

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Los Angeles Street Gangs: Bloods & Crips

by Women in Crime Ink


Following is an excerpt from the book The Rough Guide to True Crime, which includes a section on organized crime. Within that is an overview about the street gangs of Los Angeles.


Successive waves of migration to the West Coast have resulted in California being home to a bewildering array of street gangs, hiker gangs, Triads, and other criminal outfits.


Other lesser-known groups include Mongols MC, a motorcycle band founded in 1969 and based in the southern part of the state (although it has chapters elsewhere, including in Scandinavia). The Mongols have a record of being successfully infiltrated by federal agents, leading to arrests and convictions for violent crimes and racketeering. In October 2008, a judge granted a controversial injunction to ban the club logo, which depicts a Mongolian warrior wearing shades. Also active are the Satanas, a Filipino American street gang in Los Angeles, the United Bamboo Gang, a large Taiwanese Triad; the Mars 18, one of several gangs whose membership is largely drawn from L.A.’s El Salvadorian, Guatemalan and Honduran communities (the gang is known simply as El Criminal in El Salvador); and the Black Guerrilla Family, an African-American prison gang with a tough agenda of overthrowing the government.

Los Angeles is the metropolis of street gangs and gangland criminals. Perhaps its most notorious gangs are two African-American outfits, the Bloods and the Crips. The Crips started in the neighborhoods of West Los Angeles around 1970. The smaller neighborhood gang consolidated and joined forces under the leadership of Stanley “Tookie” Williams and Raymond Washington. Soon, other gangs started renaming themselves, incorporating the word “Crips” into their new names – gangs such as the Main Street Crips, Kitchen Crips, 5 Deuce Crips, and Rollin 20 Crips – appeared on the streets.

There are estimated to be at least 30,000 Crips. But unlike the hierarchically organized Mafia and Asian gangs, this mainly black gang is more of a loose federation. Williams wrote a memoir, Blue Rage, Black Redemption, in which he termed the Crips a “fighting alliance.”

In 1973, a Crips group was formed in Compton, in South Central L.A. It called itself the Piru Street Boys and became powerful and well organized. It has been in the nature of the loosely organized black gangs that bloody feuds develop in the absence of a regimented structure. And so it was with the Pirus, who broke off violently from the rest of the Crips, calling themselves Bloods instead. The rivalry and factionalism continues today.

One of the Crips founding members was a man called Buddha, who wore a blue bandana together with blue jeans and a blue shirt. When he was killed in 1973, gang mourners wore similar bandanas as a mark of respect and, with that gesture, the Crips adopted the gang color that identifies them today. Crips gang members wear blue articles of clothing, shoelaces, hat, hair rollers, and canvas belt. In some cities, members wear light blue. They generally write their graffiti in blue, tagging their gang names on walls to mark their territorial boundaries and to publicly taunt their enemies or rivals. They use terms like “BK” (Blood Killer) and “PK” (Piru Killer). Crips also refer to one another as “Cuzz” and use the letter “C” to replace the letter “B” in their conversations and writings (for example, “Meet me at the cusstop” or “that guy has crass calls”). Conversely, Bloods wear the color red and refer to one another as “Blood,” “Piru,” or “CK” (Crip Killer).

As for tattoos, a teardrop by an eye can indicate that its wearer is a murderer. In the past, black gang members eschewed tattoos, but that’s changed; today, members are tattooing themselves in the same manner as the traditional Hispanic gangs that sport multiple tattoos identifiable to certain gangs, helping police ID crime suspects’ affiliations.

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Should Teens Be Charged as Adults?

by Robin Sax

We don't let children vote and we don't let children sign contracts, but once they're old enough to drive, they should be able to stand trial for murder ...?

Prosecuting children as adults is a touchy subject, especially from the perspective of one who advocates on behalf of children. A brutal, callous case that occurred in September 2010 got me thinking about this very topic. On that evening, 81-year-old George Baker was indiscriminately attacked while walking down the main street of sleepy Lynchburg, Virginia, after attending his granddaughter's wedding. The Tempe, Arizona, resident was on his way back to his hotel from the reception when two 16-year-old boys and one 13-year-old boy randomly attacked him.

A police search-warrant affidavit connected with the arrest of the three juveniles describes how, immediately before the attack, one boy had told their female companions that he was going to hit the next person he saw, thinking this would impress the girls. That boy then struck the elderly gentleman, who fell to the ground. The second boy then kicked the unconscious Mr. Baker in the head. Mr. Baker, who had extensive head injuries, died at the hospital early the next morning.

The three teenage boys were arrested after being identified by witnesses to the attack. All have been charged with murder. The two 16 year olds were charged as adults, in accordance with Virginia law.

But is that correct? And who decides? Treating a child like an adult can be a decision made either by the court or by the prosecutor. The leading U.S. Supreme Court decision of Kent v. United States actually delineates the factors that should be considered in making this determination – namely, the seriousness of the crime, the suspect's age and the suspect's criminal past. Most people do not understand that serious reflection goes into the decision to try a child as an adult. In fact, by an eerie coincidence, Virginia's current policies governing how and when to prosecute juveniles as adults was being reviewed by the Virginia State Crime Commission during the very week of Mr. Baker's attack.

The discussion surrounded proposed legislation that would allow a juvenile's lawyer to appeal the transfer of violent-crime charges to a non-juvenile court. Proponents of charging juveniles as adults cite the actual reduction of juvenile crime in Virginia since a 1996 law change, which requires the automatic transfers of murder and similar aggravated-malice charges to adult courts for juveniles over 14. Who knows whether this week's events will have a bearing on the final decision about what the state does with violent juveniles? At least the topic is being intelligently and systemically debated.

These decisions don't come easy–and they shouldn't. Children are our future, and there cannot be a one-size-fits-all approach. The only way to decide if it is an appropriate choice is to weigh the facts. In this case, the factors as we know them are:

    •    At least one of the three defendants had a premeditated plan.
    •    Two of the three are 16 – of age to drive (and even to consent to sex) in most states.
    •    The victim was a particularly vulnerable 81-year-old man who was by himself – and, by all witness accounts, doing nothing to provoke the attack.
    •    The crime showed a great degree of callousness: The boys allegedly continued to kick and beat Mr. Baker when he was on the ground and not resisting.
    •    This is not the boys' first interaction with law enforcement.
    •    The boys have been associated with a local gang.

Given all of that, is it bad that the children in this case (not every case) are being treated like adults? I say no – and kudos to prosecutors in Virginia for holding the perpetrators accountable for this despicable crime. The defendants – nicknamed The Lynchburg Teens – were tried for murder and convicted in the beating of George Baker.

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Murderitaville: Solved and Unsolved Serial Cases

by Elizabeth Gerardin 

In March 2000, an inconsequential woman is lured to a busy parking lot where she is abducted and murdered. Eleven years later, the case remains open. In February 2004, a young girl is abducted beneath a surveillance camera. By the time her sexually assaulted body is located, the incriminating videotape has been broadcast internationally. Two years later, a multi-millionaire serial pedophile is charged with defrauding Medicare of more than $17 million. 

In between these crimes are many others.

They are all related.

Tara Reilly

She was 25, single, and lived with her parents in Bradenton, Florida. She had lupus. She had borne a daughter in her late teens who she had given to the child’s father to raise. She  quit a dead-end job at a medical lab in nearby Sarasota after qualifying for disability.

She must have had second thoughts about relinquishing her daughter because in 1994 she initiated custody proceedings that were still ongoing in 2000. Around 5:30 PM on March 27, 2000, she received an anonymous phone call. A man told her he had information crucial to her custody case that he would share if she would meet him at the parking lot of the local WalMart.

Her parents begged her not to go.

Later, her father found her abandoned car in the parking lot with the lights on and the keys in the ignition. Two days later her nude and battered body was found face down in the mire of a popular mudbogging area 1200 feet away.

Nine years later, I spoke with a local homicide detective about a cold case article for a crime rag. He selected Tara Reilly and told me they knew who killed her and why. All they wanted from the article was some heat to apply additional pressure and perhaps encourage a witness to come forward. He explained they knew her child’s father ordered the murder and one of his employees had committed it. And in fact, other mutual friends were witnesses to the act that was staged as a sex crime.

This begged the question, was there any proof? Actually, no, there wasn’t. There was no DNA and after initial questioning the two suspects did what only the guilty do – they lawyered up. Oh, and the other proof of guilt – it’s always the husband or the boyfriend.  Yet he managed to impregnate two other women he didn’t marry, who had also taken him to court and they were still above ground. The detective shared details of the crime scene that could not be released, as it was still an open case; these details did not indicate this murder was the contract hit on a bothersome ex. 


I wrote basically what he requested, and did so reluctantly, because I thought it was a lame investigation. I believed it was not a murder to eliminate a petitioner in a court case, a case that she was losing anyway, but a crime committed by someone who enjoyed what he did, someone who had experience along those lines. And when has any group of people ever been able to keep a secret of this magnitude for years?

Carlie Brucia

On the afternoon of Super Bowl Sunday 2004, 12-year-old Carlie Brucia was walking home from a sleepover in Sarasota Florida. As she cut across a car wash lot, she was approached by a man. She appeared to recognize him. They spoke briefly and hand in hand they walked away. There was no struggle nor did she appear to be frightened or reluctant; if there is any expression on her face, it is a slightly quizzical look. How do I know this? I have watched these 18 seconds over 100 times. I watch her leave the realm of childhood and enter the valley of the shadow, one in which her life expectancy is no longer measured in decades or years–t is down to minutes. She and her captor walk out of the frame of the camera and poof–she is gone.

Unlike Tara Reilly’s, Carlie’s abduction-murder will be solved in days. Actually in about two days, since her abductor, Joseph Smith, managed to commit the most heinous of crimes within the range of a surveillance camera. Once the film was enhanced, the name emblazoned across the pocket of his mechanic’s shirt became visible and people watching the broadcasts called in to identify him. He wasn’t hard to locate either – he had been picked up shortly after the abduction for an unrelated drug offense and was in the Sarasota County jail.

Joseph Smith was convicted of her abduction, rape, and murder in 2005 and sentenced to death. Smith had one of the best public defenders in the state, and one of the few who was death-qualified. Adam Tebrugge is the antithesis of the Machiavellian defense attorney. I have seen him post trial while co-counsel is heading to a bar to celebrate an acquittal, or drink away the sting of a conviction. Adam always declines; he is going to church to pray.

Facing a jury out for blood, Adam presented as mitigators the fact that Smith was a long-time drug addict lacking the ability to formulate premeditation; he loved his daughters and was kind to animals, none of which was compelling.

The sex murder of this young girl was horrendous. She suffered greatly and experienced excruciating fear. Crimes such as these compel one to ask, what is the nature of evil within a human being that erodes any sense of decency or compassion for a child?

What made Joseph Smith a monster? No answer seemed forthcoming.

Joseph DeGregorio

In 1981, Joseph DeGregorio was 24 and ambitious. A native of Brooklyn, he had managed to win a million dollar settlement against a New York hospital when he alleged an injury by a security guard. He used some of his windfall to help a 13 year old boy from the hood who suffered from a rare from of cancer. Soon the 13 year old and his 15 year old brother were under the sway of DeGregorio who convinced their mother to let him adopt the younger boy and bring them both to Florida where they set up housekeeping in Sarasota in 1983.

Over the years, DeGregorio “adopted” many young boys he wanted to “help.” Their mothers always agreed. Thirteen years later, the younger of the brothers made the following allegations to a Sarasota detective who gave the following sworn testimony: He alleges he has known DeGregorio since he was 13 and was molested as a child by DeGregorio. He identified 7 other boys he alleges DeGregorio molested. He alleges DeGregorio adopts boys from dysfunctional families and gets them because he has money.

By the late 1990s, DeGregorio estimated his fortune at almost $40 million. The infusion of wealth did not discourage him from suing creditors to avoid satisfying his debts. His business, Acculab Inc., maintained a staff of in-house lawyers and doctors. He even sued the local gas station to avoid paying his corporate fuel bills. He sued a cop who attempted to question him over stalking two teens that were the victims of his road rage. He sued the teens and their parents for petitioning the court for a restraining order. He sued an employee for saying his company might go bankrupt; he sued his neighbors over slights. He prosecuted a 15-year-old “adopted son” he alleged attempted to extort money from him by an accusation of molestation. Needless to say, no one dared to comment on the steady stream of young and disturbed boys living with him.

Highly intelligent and ruthless, his talent lay in the selection of his victims – he could always find the boy whose single mother was broke, jobless, homeless, miserable and offer her a job and an apartment, but one too small to accommodate her child who he would graciously offer to take home to keep his own “son” company. The mothers were always compensated, some lavishly and for long periods of time. Affidavit after affidavit tells the same story:

"No, I never told anyone; my mother sent my sister into foster care when she told her our brother molested her. No, I never told anyone; my mom was evicted when she got fired–we went to our church and the elder knew Joey and said he would help. No I never told; I was ashamed."

Other affidavits alleged that DeGregorio occasionally conducted liaisons with women, that technically he was bi, but preferred young boys. One affidavit alleged the affiant accompanied DeGregorio on trips to New York for business. When asked what the business entailed, he answered that DeGregorio had business with John Gotti and visited him in jail. There was speculation regarding money laundering through his different lab facilities, several in Florida and one in Las Vegas.

When the victim is also the beneficiary of gifts, money, security, vacations, it is more confusing because the despoiler alternates the carrot and the stick, skewing reality. But without exception each of DeGregorio’s victims, as adults, were testaments to ruined lives. None ever recovered from the experience.

After almost 23 years of manipulating the legal system in Sarasota, DeGregorio was brought down by an employee who approached the feds with a qui tam, or whistleblower’s suit. The employee presented evidence that DeGregorio had systematically defrauded Medicare of at least 17 million dollars. When the feds seized his computers and documents, they found child pornography. Lots of it. Held without bail, his victims began to come forward.

Their stories were horrifying.

He issued death threats against witnesses, victims, and cops from his jail cell, offering fortunes to prisoners about to be released. An offered bribe to facilitate an escape finally landed him in solitary.

After his business went bankrupt and his assets seized, his in-house attorneys left him in the hands of a public defender and he was convicted and sentenced to life without parole for multiple counts of sexual battery/victim younger than 12. His subsequent appeal was denied.

Another Cold Case

A few weeks after I wrote the Tara Reilly article, I was looking for another cold case and went to neighboring Sarasota. I told the homicide detective about my last article and he stated, "I know who killed Tara Reilly."

Really?

He had been one of the detectives working the Carlie Bruscia murder and he said that while Joseph Smith refused to discuss Brucia, he wanted to talk about his involvement in the death of Tara Reilly, a murder that was outside the Sarasota jurisdiction.

The detective continued to tell me that Joseph Smith and his younger brother John had been brought to Florida in their teens by a wealthy serial pedophile. That the pedophile continued to control them well into adulthood with money, drugs, blackmail, Baker Acts, carrots and sticks. That he continued to engage them both in sexual activity as a form of dominance even after Joseph Smith married. That this pedophile was the most dangerous and brilliant sociopath he had ever encountered. And thank God, Joseph DeGregorio would never see the outside of a cell again. 

But Tara Reilly? What happened?

Tara Reilly worked for DeGregorio at Acculab. She had left to take disability but she attended a New Year’s Eve party there in 1999. She claimed that she was sexually assaulted after the party by Joseph DeGregorio and Joseph and John Smith. She was terrified and waited a couple of months before approaching us. At the time of her death she was coming forth with her allegations and DeGregorio knew that.

"Did you share this information with the Bradenton detectives?"

"Oh, yeah… they didn’t want to hear it cause it conflicted with their boyfriend theory."

Joseph Smith had several previous arrests for violent attacks on women.

The Sarasota prosecutor said on the record that he could not discuss the sexual assault of Tara Reilly because even long after her death, the case was open, but he felt confident of the detectives’ assessments.

Sometimes when I watch the video of Carlie walking into oblivion, I wonder if Smith has any insight into the source of his rage. Heroin and cocaine, even in copious amounts, did not silence his demons. The wife he loved and the daughters he adored did not silence them either. Even facing the death penalty, he did not offer his early victimization at the hands of DeGregorio as a mitigating factor in his crime. I never told; I was ashamed.

Several years ago a grim-faced Patricia Davis, mother of the Smith brothers, signed an affidavit swearing that DeGregorio was the legal guardian of her younger son. At that time John Smith was in his late 30s, still living with his captor.

In 2006 she stood outside the Acculab facilities glaring at federal agents who filled three box trucks with evidence against her sons’ molester, her benefactor. Did her son’s rage manifest itself against females as betrayers, collaborators? Was it easier to blame the mother who turned a blind eye than to blame the predator?

Consider this: In America where even people living below the poverty line have a television and the much of the population is insulated from the real terror and depravity of existence, genuine evil is understood primarily as the plot of a horror movie. Terrible things happen, but they occur in the context of entertainment where there is a hero, a villain, a beautiful woman and all loose ends are resolved within 120 minutes.

Living in denial is, for some, the only option. Since the beginning of time, people have created myths to try and explain the unexplainable. America is a country of laws, where we must believe that our system of justice is capable of protecting even its most vulnerable citizens.

Perhaps that is our modern myth.

I called the agency that was still investigating the Tara Reilly murder and spoke to the sergeant. "Are you aware of the theory that Joseph Smith murdered Tara Reilly?"

His boredom radiated across the phone lines.

"Yeah, I’m aware of it. When you get into the Tara Reilly case, there are trails that go down trails that lead down other trails… ."

He was through talking and no longer listening.

Where he saw trails that meandered and diverged into other trails, I saw a straight line.

Elizabeth Gerardin is an investigator for a Florida law firm and a certified pistol instructor who occasionally works cold cases for local law enforcement agencies.

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'How to get Away With the Ultimate Murder,' Author Unknown

by Susan Murphy Milano

Late last week, a Michigan jury found Doug Stewart guilty of the murder of his wife, Venus Stewart, who was abducted from just outside her parents' home in Michigan April 26, 2010. The relationship had a documented history of violence. Venus Stewart filed for divorce and moved out of the marital home. Doug Stewart, according to police reports, was furious with her sending text messages and emails, demanding she return with the kids or “you know what will happen if you don’t.” Once she was finally able to leave the toxic and dangerous environment, as in all intimate partner violence relationships, the abuser went into action plan mode. 

The victim files numerous police reports and has court orders of protection; she tells friends and family she is in fear for her life. Why? Because he lost ownership, power and control over the person with whom they married. In the inner workings of an abuser’s mind, “till death do us part” is now their goal.

As an angry abuser, not wanting the person with whom I am in a relationship to leave, I am going to boil over like hot liquid on a stove. And, as an abuser, I have a lot of time to think out a plan of action. In the beginning, after the victim leaves, I am going to threaten the person where no one else can hear me. I will make a victim's life unbearable during the divorce process, especially in court mandated mediation meetings with mental health evaluators, while sitting dressed neatly and showing the world what a wonderful person I am. The moment the session is over I will shoot those looks of "now you did it" and "you are going to pay for this if you do not return to me." Next, as custody of the kids is being determined, as an abuser, I am outraged and think about how "she is not getting away with this alive."

I then, as the abuser, figure out where to get that special "handbook" available to members only in an eBook format that the recently formed "secret society of abusers" are all reading, titled How to Get Away With the Ultimate Murder, author unknown.

For some abusers, in my expert opinion, the handbook has worked in cases where the victim has vanished without a trace. There must be a chapter in the "handbook" on how to correctly lawyer up, as you will notice with each person of interest in cases where the wife is reported missing, the last person to see them no longer cooperates with authorities. In the blink of an eye, most persons of interest hire a fairly skilled defense attorney in the early stages. The legal hired armor acts as the shield or the mouth piece for the only person, once again in my expert opinion, behind the vanishing act of their loved one. Perfect example is the upcoming trial for the murder of missing mother Renee Pernice. Her husband, Shon Pernice, who is awaiting trial, secured an attorney immediately.

Isn't it rather strange that the victim is often the mother of their children, estranged wife or girlfriend? And, more often than not, they are going through a divorce or custody battle. And, yes, I need to mention that a person is innocent until proven guilty.

All of these cases have a common theme: The person has been erased from the planet, never to be seen or heard from again. A common theme does not make one guilty of the crime, but it is highly unusual that the person with whom the relationship has ended, in cases of intimate partner violence, does not have a motive. The facts, although circumstantial, do carry a lot of weight but is often not enough for a grand jury indictment, unless you have a body.

The prosecutor, John McDonough, went ahead and tried the Stewart case without a body. Not an easy task. But, he had enough circumstantial evidence and proof beyond a reasonable doubt that Douglas Stewart was found guilty by a jury of first-degree premeditated murder and conspiracy to commit first-degree premeditated murder. Stewart is scheduled for sentencing sometime next month. The remains of Venus Stewart have yet to be found.

Venus Stewart is still missing. Anyone with information on the case is asked to contact Michigan State Police White Pigeon Post at 269-483-7611 or Rockford Regional Dispatch Center at 616-866-6666.

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