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Shadow People: How meth-driven crime is eating at the heart of rural America

May 7, 2012 Special to Crime Magazine

Shadow People: How meth-driven crime is eating at the heart of rural America

“Shadow People” — the term refers to hallucinogenic figures glimpsed by methamphetamine addicts after days without sleep. But, in reality, it’s the addicts themselves who are living in a shadow, growing in numbers, becoming an alarming subculture on the periphery of rural America, engaging in crimes that are having devastating impacts on places where traditional life is valued most. Between May 2010 and October 2011, award-winning journalist Scott Thomas Anderson worked as an embedded reporter with law enforcement agencies, partnering with officers on night patrols, accompanying detectives on warrant searches and probation sweeps, observing SWAT operations and spending hundreds of hours with attorneys and victims’ advocates in small-town courtrooms. The result is Anderson’s new book, Shadow People: how meth-driven crime is eating at the heart of rural America. The following excerpt from Chapter 5 of Shadow People follows several cops and prosecutors in Amador County, California, during a hot week in July, 2010. Available on Amazon.com

by Scott Thomas Anderson

Chapter 5

Jackson, California: June 13, 2010

 

Mike Collins pounds the accelerator. The voice calling for backup over his radio belongs to a police officer in Sutter Creek, Jackson’s sister city to the north. To Collins, it sounds like a fellow cop is approaching two burglary suspects caught in the act; and he’s confronting them utterly alone. Mosquitoes are swarming as the Jackson cruiser drives under the bloodshot silhouette of a mine frame, ridges and rooftops below swept by a champagne curtain of light. The car moves through an intersection, past a white, plaster slum structure with rusty air units and bed sheets hung for drapes: Carrion eaves, cracked Spanish arches, its condemned walls flash by the veteran’s eye in an instant. Radio traffic advises Collins that the policeman has his suspects cornered in a cemetery. By now, the cruiser has pushed through two staggered intersections to an upper gateway to Sutter Creek. For an instant Collins can see down the rolling vista to a basin of houses and yards a magazine once deemed “the city without crime.” 

It’s all in the eyelids — the burglar’s are low, ruby flaps of half-hung skin. Below them, two pupils shutter into postmortem windows, wobbling and wandering on the salmon-white glaze of his corneas. The eyes are vacant, deeply chiseled into a gaunt, shaven skull. The burglar’s agitated. Trembling. He can barely speak. Moments before, he had no problems pattering to the Sutter Creek officer in front of him, even joking that the reason he and the emaciated woman at his side were spotted creeping out of garages was because they’d been taken by the carnal urge. Laughing, he’d quickly dropped the line that they were just looking for an impromptu place to satisfy it. But two black bags lay near a headstone, and Collins is watching as his fellow officer searches through them, discovering twenty-one stolen items hidden under knotted clothes and a bottle of Hennessy. The last thing the officer pulls out is a roll of toilet paper. Securing his gloves, he moves his fingers up inside its cylinder to discover a crystal pipe loaded with methamphetamine.   

“That’s insulin,” the burglar assures everyone.

Handcuffs slide out of a leather sheath. The Sutter Creek officer moves in, but his suspect suddenly wants out of the graveyard at all costs. The wiry man locks his fists as a frail snare line rattles through his elbows. The much larger officer wrenches the burglar’s forearms. The meth is good for one more push, a trapped tugging and some wordless defiance. Collins is ready to step in and help when the Sutter Creek officer, in one motion, forces his suspect down on the hood of the patrol car.

Rogue Mobster: The Untold Story of Mark Silverman and the New England Mafia

April 24, 2012 Special to Crime Magazine 

Rogue Mobster: The Untold Story of Mark Silverman and the New England Mafia by Mark Silverman and Scott Deitche

An excerpt from Rogue Mobster: The Untold Story of Mark Silverman and the New England Mafia by Mark Silverman and Scott Deitche. (Published March 17, 2012 by Strategic Media Books, paperback, 298 pages, $24.95.)

Introduction

The New England underworld had a rough year in 2011.  On January 20, 2011 the FBI coordinated the largest ever sweep of Mafia suspects in the country.  Over 120 alleged mobsters and associates were taken in, encompassing a dozen different cases involving Mafia families in the Northeast.   One of the coups was the arrest of the now-retired boss of the New England Mafia, Louis “Baby Shacks” Manocchio.  Shacks led the New England Mafia from his headquarters in Providence, since the Boston faction of the family had faced numerous takedowns from state and federal police.  Manocchio’s retirement brought the power base back to Boston, but the North End mob was still battling ghosts from a decade before.

Just under a month after the historic sweep, federal authorities closed in on a Boston mobster that had been on the run from the law since 1994, Enrico Ponzo.  Back then, Ponzo was facing a drug indictment.  He skipped town and headed west.  He changed his name to Jeffrey John Shaw and was living on a small ranch in Marsing, Idaho, worlds away from the streets of Boston.  On February 7, 2011, federal agents, acting on a tip, arrested Ponzo as he drove up to his home.   

But the biggest catch for law enforcement came on June 22, 2011, when federal authorities, acting on a tip, finally nabbed James “Whitey” Bulger, in Santa Monica, California.  Bulger had been there for over a decade with his girlfriend, Catherine Greig. He was No. 1 on the FBI’s Top Ten Wanted list.  Sightings of the elusive Irish mob boss had taken agents around the world.  Some speculated that he was dead. Others thought that because Bulger had knowledge of the pervasive corruption in the FBI's Boston office that the feds simply didn’t want to find him.  And when they did arrest him and Greig they found an arsenal of guns, and $800,000 in cash.  Bulger may have been long removed from the criminal underworld in New England but he obviously had the street smarts and connections to live a comfortable life on the run.

The Bulger and Ponzo arrests were parts of the final chapter of an underworld saga that had played out on the streets of Boston and Rhode Island since the late 1980s.  Those events also helped Louis Manocchio ascend to the top spot in Rhode Island.  The saga was a war for control of the New England Mafia, with the backdrop of Whitey Bulger and his Winter Hill Gang, a corrupt FBI department, and the shifting allegiances of mobsters looking to stay ahead of the law.

Mark Silverman was coming up in the New England underworld during these days.   Mark got to see the Boston mob wars of the '90s from both sides.  He was with a renegade faction that was challenging the traditional Mafia, which he terms LCN (La Cosa Nostra) and he was with the renegade faction.  His ties to the Winter Hill gang, starting from childhood, also brought an element to the story that’s so typical of the New England underworld. 

One Voice Raised, A Triumph Over Rape

April 16, 2012 Updated July 18, 2012 Special to Crime Magazine

 One Voice Raised by Jennifer Wheatley-Wolf

One Voice Raised, A Triumph Over Rape , an excerpt from the non-fiction story about Jennifer Wheatley-Wolf’s empowering experience of testifying against the man who raped her 20 years after the crime was committed.  In addition to Jennifer's story of hope is a detailed account of how the cold-case was solved by Chief Investigator David H. Cordle Sr.

Important Update: In July 2012 a 3rd Victim was linked, through DNA, to the same man who attacked and raped Jennifer. This 3rd violent rape occurred on May 31, 1987 in Montgomery County, Maryland.

by Jennifer Wheatley-Wolf

Chapter 4

Intuition

1. Direct perception of truth, fact, etc., independent of any reasoning process; immediate apprehension.

2. A fact, truth, etc., perceived in this way.

3. A keen and quick insight.

4.The quality or ability of having such direct perception or quick insight.

I have always been intuitive. I suppose we are all intuitive to some degree. But maybe my feeling of “something isn’t right here” was a bit keener than even I believed. I have been asked, if I’d felt something was wrong, “Why didn’t you do something?”

Indeed, why didn’t I? Hindsight is always twenty-twenty. However, even if I had followed my instincts, to what outcome? Who knows? In truth, the answer to “why not?” isn’t, “I was tired and overreacting,” or even “I had spooked myself by reading Stephen King at 3 a.m.” It is much simpler: I’m home, getting ready for bed; I’m in my pajamas.

I am home. Isn’t this the place where we feel the most invincible, the safest? Don’t we all feel like the weight of the day begins to fall off once we come into our homes and kick off our shoes? We turn on the TV or stereo, grab a beer or glass of wine, get ourselves something to eat, and begin to relax. We naturally put our guard down. Getting ready for bed, dressed in my pajamas, and unwinding after a busy night at work is so far opposite from running out of the house screaming for help like a maniac. I didn’t believe I was in danger because I was home. I didn’t listen to my intuition. All the warnings were there and I got them all loud and clear.

I did not react to any of the intuitive signals I was picking up on because I wanted to continue to believe my home was a safe haven.

I am home. I’m safe.

Cold A Long Time: An Alpine Mystery by John Leake

March 5, 2012

Cold A Long Time: An Alpine Mystery by John Leake

Book Review by Mark Pulham

For many of us, the death of one of our children is inconceivable. Most of us would agree that there is nothing worse. It is an unimaginable tragedy, something that we cannot picture getting over. But, as anyone who has lost a loved one knows, a healing process begins. A funeral is held, a time for grieving passes, and if time does not exactly heal old wounds, it does dull their pain.

But, as John Leake’s new book Cold a Long Time: An Alpine Mystery shows, there is something worse for a parent. What if your child was missing? The grieving process cannot begin and the passing of time does not lessen the pain. Instead, there is uncertainty, the parent remains in limbo, and they cannot move past.

Cold a Long Time presents the story of Duncan MacPherson, a professional ice hockey player from Saskatoon, who had played for the Saskatoon Blades and the Springfield Indians. He dreamed of joining the NHL, but it was not to be. At 23 years old, he had numerous injuries, and he was not quite as fast as some of the others, and when his contract expired, he was released. But showing grace and maturity during an interview, he didn’t express anger or bitterness, just acknowledged that it wasn’t meant to be.

Duncan MacPherson
Duncan MacPherson

Duncan was offered a job as coach for the Dundee Tigers Hockey team in Dundee, Scotland. Although the owner of the team was a little shady, Duncan accepted. Before he joined the team, Duncan decided to take some time for himself and visit some friends in Europe.

On August 7, 1989, Duncan was in Nuremburg where he borrowed a friend’s car, intending to be back by August 11 to catch his flight to Scotland. He told his parents, Lynda and Bob, that he would call them from Scotland on August 14.

That call never came. Days passed with no word from Duncan, and when the phone did finally ring, it wasn’t their son, but one of his friends telling them that he never made it to Scotland. The last anyone saw of him was on August 9, when he went snowboarding at a popular ski resort on the Stubai Glacier near Innsbruck, Austria.

And so the nightmare began for Lynda and Bob MacPherson, a nightmare that would span 20 years. What had happened to their son? The question itself is a simple one, but as with many simple questions, the answer was complex. Was he dead? Did he have amnesia? If he was dead, then how did he die? And where was the body? Was there another explanation?

Scapegoat: The Chino Hills Murders and the Framing of Kevin Cooper

Jan. 30, 2012 Special to Crime Magazine

An excerpt from the recently released book Scapegoat: The Chino Hills Murders and the Framing of Kevin Cooper by J. Patrick O’Connor, editor of Crime Magazine.  Published in January of 2012 by Strategic Media Books, Scapegoat is available at www.strategicmediabooks.com, Amazon.com, barnesandoble.com and other book sellers throughout the United States. Scapegoat won Silver in the 2013 Independent Publishers Book Awards for True Crime.

 by J. Patrick O’Connor

Foreword

During the fall of 2008, I was in the San Francisco Bay area on a book tour for The Framing of Mumia Abu-Jamal.  The tour was arranged by Jeff Mackler, the executive director of the Mobilization to Free Mumia Abu-Jamal, and it involved about fifteen speaking engagements at different venues.   Jeff told me that supporters of death-row inmate Kevin Cooper – whom I had not heard of -- would be attending a number of these presentations, and that they would be asking me to write a book about Kevin’s case.  Indeed, two of Cooper’s most dedicated supporters, Carole Seligman and Rebecca Doran, did just that. 

Cooper had been convicted in 1985 of the brutal murders of Doug and Peggy Ryen, their ten-year-old daughter, Jessica, and eleven-year-old houseguest Christopher Hughes, and the attempted murder of the Ryens’ eight-year-old son Joshua. 

Jeff had gotten to know Cooper over the years, and had visited him about twenty times. Kevin’s case was quite different from Mumia’s, he said, in the sense that Mumia is essentially a political prisoner and Kevin was anything but. 

When I decided to begin researching the Kevin Cooper case in early 2009, I had no pre-conceived notions about his guilt or innocence.  Each case is different, radically so.  My first step was to read and notate the trial transcripts, documents of over eight-thousand pages.  I then read all the police reports, witness interviews and various newspaper accounts.  Finally, I read all of the appeals and the judicial rulings.  By this time I was ready to begin interviewing various people involved in Cooper’s trial and his subsequent appeals. 

One problem in researching a crime nearly twenty-five years after it occurred is that a number of key people involved in the investigation and trial have passed away or have retired or have simply forgotten important factual details.  Another obstacle is that, because Cooper technically still has appeals open to him, the San Bernardino County District Attorney’s Office refused to discuss the case.

During the summer of 2009, I made arrangements to interview Kevin Cooper in a visitor’s cell on death row at San Quentin.  On several issues, particularly those regarding his criminal record previous to the Chino Hills trial, I found him protective and less than forthcoming.  That was all behind him, he seemed to suggest.

On the other hand, I was taken by his equanimity and his resolve to prove he was wrongfully convicted of the gruesome Chino Hills murders.  I could see that the many years he had spent on death row, instead of diminishing him, had turned him into a person worthy of the high regard that his supporters – and his attorneys at the Orrick law firm – felt for him.  On death row, Kevin Cooper had finally grown up. 

Contrary to popular belief, most of the nation’s more than three-thousand-five-hundred death row inmates do not profess innocence.  In fact, unlike Kevin Cooper, very few do.  For those who do, the road to exoneration is a long, slow trek that usually fails.  But it does succeed occasionally.  Since 1973, when the U.S. Supreme Court allowed states to resume executions, one-hundred-thirty-six death-row inmates have been exonerated.  In the majority of those cases, the proof of the inmate’s innocence was so convincing that the prosecutor dropped the charges rather than retry the case.  In forty-five cases where there was a retrial, the inmate was acquitted. 

There are two things that do link the Mumia Abu-Jamal and Kevin Cooper cases: Each was prosecuted by a district attorney’s office hell bent on winning a death-penalty conviction; and neither defendant received a proper defense.  What separates the two cases is that, while Mumia’s trial was a mockery of the justice system’s standards for a fair trial, Cooper’s trial had the trappings of fairness – but was lost long before the trial opened.  Two pre-trial developments caused this outcome: The San Bernardino County Sheriff’s Department destroyed evidence that could have exonerated Cooper; and his public defender insisted on going it alone.  Not many Davids actually slay Goliaths. 

This then is a book about a gruesome murder case, painfully recounted; all quotes are from either documents or interviews I conducted doing my research.  It is also a book about how justice can go astray.  It is the true story of the Chino Hills murders, and the prosecution of Kevin Cooper, a prisoner who escaped once too often and found himself in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Since 1985, he has been on death row at San Quentin asserting his innocence in failed-after-failed appeal while awaiting his execution. 

The Abbott Impact

Jan. 23, 2012

Jack Henry Abbott

Jack Henry Abbott

Jack Abbott sold himself to Norman Mailer as the “Super Convict.” Mailer turned the letters Abbott sent him into the best-selling book, In the Belly of the Beast, and assisted Abbott in gaining parole in 1981. Six months later Abbott stabbed a waiter to death in a New York restaurant.

 by J.J. Maloney

Jack Henry Abbott started as a boy in a training school, worked his way up through the system-—getting in trouble here, being transferred there, getting into more trouble until, ultimately, he spent virtually all of his life in some form of reform school or prison.

When it became known in 1977 that Norman Mailer was to write The Executioner's Song, about Gary Gilmore, Abbott, who was incarcerated in the same Utah penitentiary, wrote to Mailer, suggesting that Mailer could make use of the observations of someone like Abbott, someone who had lived in the world Gary Gilmore inhabited.

Mailer began to correspond with Abbott, and apparently began to care about him. Abbott wrote long, grandiloquent letters, in which he discussed his fantasized perception of himself as a Super Convict. He claimed to have been subjected to more brutality than other convicts, to have risen higher above the situation than other convicts, to have been more philosophically correct than other convicts.

Mailer bought it; for his own reasons, he wanted to believe what Abbott was saying. And, of course, there was some truth in many of the things Abbott said about prisons. 

The Best Madam in America

Jan. 16, 2012 Special to Crime Magazine:

Queenpins: Notorious Women Gangsters from the Modern Era, by Ron Chepesiuk

  This is an excerpt from the book, Queenpins: Notorious Women Gangsters from the Modern Era, by Ron Chepesiuk. The book is published by Strategic Media Books (www.strategicmediabooks.com) and is available from the web site, Amazon.com and other publishing outlets.       

by Ron Chepesiuk

In 1912, Pearl Adler, a 12-year old girl from the small village of Yanow, Russia, embarked on a long, perilous oceanic journey. For support, the young girl, whom her family called “Polly,” had nothing more with her than the high expectations of her large family and a potato sack that contained her belongings, some garlic, apples, four loaves of black bread and four hunks of salami that her mother Gertrude had packed for her. Joining Polly on board the good ship Naftar was a diverse mix of Poles, Italians, Danes and Swedes, all determined to make a prosperous new life for themselves in the Promised Land of America. It was a rough voyage and nearly all the passengers got sick, but not Polly. No sickness was going to impede her determination to reach America.

Unlike many of her fellow passengers, Polly did not leave a life of abject poverty. She was the eldest child in a family that included two daughters and seven sons. But her father, Morris Adler, was a tailor, a respectable occupation, and the family was well-off by Yanow standards. Still, the family’s ethnic roots were Jewish and it was a time of virulent anti Semitism in Russia. The Adler family could be a victim of a pogrom, or violent attack, at any time. It had happened frequently between 1903 and 1905. In the course of one week alone, there had been 50 anti-Jewish pogroms. In the village of Binlystok, for instance, 19 Jews were murdered and 24 injured. The Kishinew pogram left 120 dead and 500 injured, while the Odessa pogrom had 299 victims.

Until the pogroms, Morris Adler’s plan for Polly was to have her attend school in a nearby village and then complete her education under the village Rabbi’s guidance. Given the insecurities of life in Russia, the father decided that she would be the first link in a line of emigration that would bring his family to America.

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