[Deathpenalty] death penalty news----COLO., CALIF., ORE., USA
Rick Halperin
rhalperi at smu.edu
Sat Dec 12 11:54:25 CST 2015
Dec. 12
COLORADO:
Clinic suspect says defense wants to hide truth
"I'm guilty", Robert L. Dear announced at his 1st in-person court appearance
since he allegedly fired on a busy Planned Parenthood clinic in Colorado
Springs 3 weeks ago, killing 2 civilians and a police officer in the assault
and subsequent shootout with police.
Dear was charged with 179 counts - including 8 for 1st-degree murder and 131
for attempted murder - for the rampage that also left nine people wounded at a
Planned Parenthood clinic on November 27 in Colorado Springs.
Dear shouted, "You'll never know what I saw in that clinic".
Dear, a native of SC who once earned a living as a self-employed art salesman,
appeared at Wednesday's hearing in shackles wearing turquoise-coloured jail
garb.
There was increased security at the El Paso County Courthouse for his hearing.
Of the 9 victims who were shot and survived, 4 were Colorado Springs Police
Officers and1 was an El Paso County Sheriff?s deputy.
Planned Parenthood was criticized earlier this year after officials of the
organization were secretly recorded by an anti-abortion group discussing how to
obtain human tissue from aborted fetuses.
Investigators have not publicly disclosed a motive, but the mayor of Colorado
Springs, John Suthers, said it can be inferred by the location of the attack.
A portrait of Dear emerged after the shooting, depicting an isolated man who
entertained survivalist ideas and had rambled to police about "baby parts"
after his arrest.
King also represented James Holmes during the Aurora theater shooting trial.
King suggested that Dear may not be competent to stand trial, and as NBC
reports, a hearing to be held on December 23rd will decide his competency. "And
he wants to do that to me".
Dear also claimed King "drugged" Holmes and that "he wants to do that to me".
Then he said: "Let's let it all come out".
Authorities say Dear entered the tan single-story clinic around 11:30 a.m. MT,
shooting at officers and bystanders for almost 5 hours before surrendering
shortly after SWAT teams crashed armored vehicles into the lobby.
Later, he accused his attorneys of being in "cahoots" with Planned Parenthood
to "shut me up".
Dear could face the death penalty, but prosecutors have not decided whether to
seek the death penalty, and that would not occur until after Dear is arraigned,
May said.
(source: waltonian.com)
CALIFORNIA----female may face death penalty
Prosecutors look at death penalty for Madera mother----Amy Chavoya is an
adoptive mother accused of torturing and murdering her 12-year-old girl.
An adoptive mother, accused of torturing and murdering her 12-year-old
daughter, is now on trial.
Madera county prosecutors revealed Friday that they're leaning towards pursuing
the death penalty against 42-Year old Amy Chavoya.
The victim's brother is the source of a lot of the evidence against Chavoya. He
just told a judge she used a stun gun and brute force to beat him and some
siblings. Prosecutors say the abuse eventually killed his sister.
Mariah Flores suffered before her death, there's no doubt about that. The
forensic pathologist who examined her found bruises and scars all over her
body. Dr. Mark Super said "first of all, you don't expect to see 12-year-olds
dead in your morgue very often and when you do see them, all those scars and
bruises is unusual.
Mariah's brother says abuse was common in the house and he and Mariah took the
brunt of it from their adopted mother, Amy Chavoya. He says they were sometimes
forced to sleep outside, they were sometimes starved, and Amy sometimes used a
stun gun on them as punishment.
He still has the scars to prove it. "Are you saying those are taser marks," a
prosecutor asked. "Who put them on you?" The Mariah's brother replied: "Amy."
Chavoya's defense attorney says there's evidence the girl inflicted some
injuries on herself. And Mariah had a fall in the shower shortly before she
died that could explain other injuries.
But prosecutors say the evidence of abuse leading to murder is clear and they
may seek the ultimate punishment. "I am treating this as a death penalty case
at this point in time, Madera County District Attorney David Linn said.
(source: ABC news)
**************
DA to seek death penalty in case of GPS-monitored sex offender accused of
killing 4 women
Prosecutors have decided to seek the death penalty against an Anaheim man
suspected of kidnapping, raping and killing 4 women, drawing renewed attention
to a case that raised concerns about the effectiveness of GPS monitoring of sex
offenders.
The Orange County District Attorney's Office announced Friday that it will seek
the death penalty against 46-year-old Steven Dean Gordon. He and Franc Cano are
facing special circumstances murder and forcible rape charges in connection to
the slayings of several Santa Ana and Anaheim women who were believed to have
ties to prostitution.
Both men are registered sex offenders who were under the supervision of federal
probation and state parole officials when the women were killed. Investigators
believe the pair twice cut off their monitoring bracelets to travel out of
state.
The 2 men - who a prosecutor described to a grand jury as a "cold, calculated,
serial-killing machine" - were arrested following the disappearances of
20-year-old Kianna Jackson, 34-year-old Josephine Vargas and 28-year-old Martha
Anaya, as well as the discovery at an Anaheim recycling facility of the body of
21-year-old Jarrae Estepp.
Authorities say that Gordon and Cano, 29, picked up the women at well-known
prostitution hubs near Harbor Boulevard or First Street and left their bodies
in trash dumpsters. Police also suspect they might have killed a 5th women, who
hasn't been identified or found.
Detectives used the men's GPS units to track them to areas where the killings
were believed to have occurred and to link the duo to each woman's cellphone,
according to grand jury transcripts.
Anaheim Police detective Julissa Trapp told grand jury members that Gordon,
during a 13-hour interview shortly after being taken into custody, admitted
that he and Cano had sexually assaulted and killed Jackson, Vargas, Anaya and
Estepp.
District Attorney Tony Rauckauckas decided to seek the death penalty against
Gordon after conferring with a committee consisting of his top officials in the
homicide unit, as well as prosecutors with experience in capital murder cases.
The committee also allowed Gordon???s defense attorney to weigh in regarding
any mitigating circumstances that would dissuade the DA from seeking the death
penalty.
Senior Deputy District Attorney Larry Yellin, who is prosecuting the case, said
late Friday that the committee is still determining whether or not to pursue
the death penalty against Cano.
Several months ago, Orange County Superior Court Judge James A. Stotler agreed
that Cano and Gordon should be tried separately. Yellin told the judge that
comments made in Gordon's police interview meant there was no way for Cano to
receive a fair trial if the 2 men were tried together.
Gordon has appeared increasingly frustrated at the pace of his criminal case,
and has repeatedly, but unsuccessfully, pushed to represent himself during
trial.
During a series of hearings over the past year, Gordon has asked for more
access to law books and case material while in jail, has said that he could
serve as his own attorney, and has contended that he was "railroaded" in a
previous trial.
Gordon is scheduled to return to court for a pretrial hearing on Jan. 22. Dates
for Gordon and Cano's jury trials have not been set.
Meanwhile, as outlined in a months-long Register investigation, the case has
sparked a larger discussion about the use of GPS to track criminals
State Sen. Pat Bates, R-Laguna Niguel, earlier this year introduced a bill to
increase prison time for those who cut off their monitoring bracelets.
Jodi Pier-Estepp, the mother of 1 of the victims, has also filed a civil
lawsuit claiming that the state failed to adequately monitor Gordon and Cano.
(source: The Orange County Register)
OREGON:
Busted immunity deal means Oregon death row inmate should have sentence
overturned, court says
The Oregon Court of Appeals threw out the sentence of Oregon death row inmate
Billy Lee Oatney, saying he didn't get adequate representation during a 1998
trial in the rape and suffocation of a woman who asked him to make jewelry for
her wedding.
Billy Lee Oatney, 53, challenged his death sentence claiming his attorneys
didn't move to suppress statements and testimony from his co-defendant, Willard
Johnston. Johnston's testimony was the centerpiece of the state's case against
Oatney and the only direct evidence against him, the appeals court said.
Johnston implicated Oatney only after Oatney talked about the killing under an
immunity deal offered by the Washington County district attorney, the appeals
court said. Authorities used Oatney's statements to prompt Johnston to
cooperate and then used the information to convict Oatney -- breaking the
promise of immunity, the appeals court said.
Susi Larsen, 34, disappeared in August 1996 after telling friends she was going
to see Oatney, an acquaintance, about making jewelry for her wedding. Her body
was found two weeks later in a wooded area of Champoeg State Park in Marion
County. Her funeral was held on what would have been her wedding day.
Johnston testified during the 1998 trial that both he and Oatney tied up Larsen
and raped her in Oatney's Tigard apartment. He claimed Oatney then held a
plastic bag over her head until she stopped breathing. Oatney pinned the crimes
solely on Johnston in his trial testimony.
Oatney was convicted of aggravated murder in 1998 and sentenced to death that
same year. The Oregon Supreme Court upheld the sentence in 2003 after a review.
Oatney filed an appeal a year later.
Johnston pleaded guilty to aggravated murder in 1998 and was sentenced to life
in prison. He agreed to testify against Oatney in exchange for an agreement
that prosecutors wouldn't seek a death sentence in his case.
Oatney's case now goes back to Washington County Circuit Court for
reconsideration.
Oatney is the second convicted murderer on death row in Oregon whose sentence
was overturned in recent weeks. Issac Agee, 38, was ordered last week to get a
new hearing by the Oregon Supreme Court to consider if he has a mental
disability. The designation could disqualify him for the death penalty.
Agee and another man were convicted of killing 36-year-old Antonio
Barrantes-Vasquez while all three men were inmates at the Oregon State
Penitentiary in 2008.
(source: oregonlive.com)
USA:
What the Number of Veterans on Death Row Really Tells Us
A good friend of mine is a death penalty mitigation specialist. She helps
exonerate indigent people who have been wrongly convicted of capital crimes. As
an opponent of capital punishment, I am constantly inspired by her work. It
often forces me to contemplate the way this country talks about the death
penalty.
Additionally, I happen to be an Army veteran, who has been working for the past
decade to improve the public perception of veterans. So, I was doubly
interested when I saw a headline in The New Yorker that asked "Why Are So Many
Veterans on Death Row?"
The November 10 piece by Jeffrey Toobin cited the Death Penalty Information
Center's recent report that "at least 10% of the current death row -- that is,
over 300 inmates -- are military veterans."
The author noted, "In a nation where roughly seven per cent of the population
have served in the military, this number alone indicates disproportionate
representation. But in a nation where military service has traditionally been
seen as a route into the middle class -- and where being a vet has been seen as
more of a benefit than a burden -- the military numbers are especially
disturbing."
I took pause at Toobin's assessment that the proportion of veterans facing
capital punishment had any bearing on the economic mobility of the average
law-abiding veteran. I was further shocked at his assertion that a group he
named "veteran killers" will, according to him, "very often lash out at those
around them." That seems like a large assumption made from a small sample size.
He continued, "Earlier generations of veterans came home from war to
ticker-tape parades, a generous G.I. Bill, and a growing economy that offered
them a chance at upward mobility. Younger veterans returned to P.T.S.D., a
relatively stagnant economy, especially in rural and semi-rural areas, and an
epidemic of drug abuse."
Toobin's implication that young veterans are afflicted with PTSD and abuse
drugs and are therefore more likely to commit crimes worthy of capital
punishment put me staunchly on the defensive. Many recent reports and
studies--some of which I have helped to produce or publish--have consistently
demonstrated that veterans are more employed than their civilian counterparts,
as well as more likely to vote, volunteer, and help their neighbors.
Essentially, veterans tend to be good citizens. So, how could they also be
disproportionately overrepresented on death row?
As I dug into the numbers, I realized that Toobin was right about one thing.
The number of veterans on death row is disproportionate to their presence in
the general population -- but the fact is that veterans are underrepresented on
death row. That seemed more like it.
The math isn't difficult; I simply applied basic tenants of statistical
analysis. Toobin compared veterans in the general population (6.9 %) to
veterans on death row (10 %). By doing this, he is assuming that the base
comparison sets--the general population and the death row population--are
relatively similar. That's where he went wrong.
No one under the age of 18 is on death row. (The US may be one of the only
developed countries that systematically executes our criminals, but at least we
don't extend our barbaric practice to children.) Likewise, by definition, all
veterans are at least 18 years of age. However, children under 18 make up
nearly a quarter of the US population. Therefore, to make a fair comparison of
veteran proportionality, one must exclude children from the general population.
Similarly, gender is a significant differentiator. While the general population
is split relatively evenly between men and women, the death row population is
not. According to DPIC, 98-% of death row inmates are males. Meanwhile,
according to the Department of Veterans Affairs, more than 90 % of living US
veterans are males.
It becomes abundantly clear that to compare apples to apples, we should compare
the proportion of veterans on death row to the proportion of veterans in the US
adult male population.
With appropriate controls for age and gender, the story changes completely.
Over 16 % of US adult males are veterans, compared to 10 % on death row. To put
it another way, approximately 1 in 41,000 US adult males are on death row;
about 1 in 67,000 US male veterans are on death row.
Male veterans are significantly less likely to be on death row compared to all
US males. And because such a small number of death row inmates are women, this
conclusion stands for all veterans. Thus, an appropriate statistical
examination demands an entirely different question: "Why Are So Few Veterans on
Death Row?"
Along with rethinking the headline, Mr. Toobin and the editors at The New
Yorker may also want to consider why they took so little care with the
statistics and what negative effects they have inflicted on the perception of
all veterans in our country today.
----
[source Note: All population data is taken from best available 2014 data from
the United States Department of Veterans Affairs, the United States Census
Bureau, and the Death Penalty Information Center.]
(source: Chris Marvin is a retired Army officer, a former Black Hawk helicopter
pilot, and a combat-wounded veteran of the war in Afghanistan. He is the
principal for Marvin Strategies. He is also a fellow with the Truman National
Security Project----Huffington Post)
***********
Death Penalty Dysfunction in 2015
On December 8, the state of Georgia carried out its 5th and final execution of
the year, killing 47-year-old Brian Keith Terrell by lethal injection for a
1992 murder. It was a fight over money, the state said. Terrell forged checks
belonging to an elderly family friend, then shot the man after he was found
out. But for years Terrell and his lawyers insisted he was innocent - no
physical evidence linked him to the crime, and, after 3 trials, the key witness
against him recanted, telling a defense investigator that he had implicated
Terrell in order to save himself.
In the end, however, this made no difference to the state of Georgia, nor to
the U.S. Supreme Court, which denied Terrell's final appeal around 11 p.m. on
Tuesday. After a prolonged and painful search for a suitable vein - after an
hour, the nurse finally stuck an IV into his hand, according to the Atlanta
Journal-Constitution - Terrell died just before 1 a.m. He gave no last
statement. But witnesses said he mouthed 3 words to a county sheriff in the
front row: "Didn't do it."
Terrell was the 28th prisoner to be put to death in the United States since
January, and the last of 2015. This made it a relatively slow year for
executions. By contrast, 34 people died on the gurney in 2014 and 39 in 2013.
The steady decline is part of a longer, well-documented trend: U.S. executions
have fallen precipitously since peaking in the late '90s, while new death
sentences are down across the country and are handed out in a narrowing number
of jurisdictions. Even in Texas, only 3 people were sentenced to death this
year. Nationally, death row populations continued to shrink in 2015. As many
experts have observed, in historical terms, the death penalty is dying.
Yet 2015 was still a wretched and messy year as far as the death penalty was
concerned, one that did much to undermine our country's vaunted claims to
"evolving standards of decency." Missouri executed a man missing 1/5 of his
frontal lobe. Virginia killed a prisoner whose appeal for a stay of execution
was still pending before the Supreme Court. Amid little public outcry, Texas
executed a man named Lester Bower, who insisted he was innocent during his 30
years on death row - and whose case had quietly fallen apart.
States continued to cluelessly tinker with lethal injection, passing new
secrecy laws to shield themselves from scrutiny - and relying on those laws to
illegally obtain execution drugs from sketchy providers as far-flung as India.
(As a backup for unavailable drugs, Utah went ahead and brought back the firing
squad.) In Glossip v. Gross, the U.S. Supreme Court gave constitutional cover
to the states' lethal injection experiments, upholding the use of midazolam for
executions, despite its short, ugly track record - and telling prisoners it's
their job to find a suitable alternative. (In Missouri, 2 men now find
themselves arguing that they should die in the gas chamber instead of by lethal
injection.) And in a particularly surreal display of incompetence and
corruption, the state of Oklahoma, fresh off its Supreme Court win, came within
moments of killing (the likely innocent) Richard Glossip using the wrong drug -
and later revealed it had used the same drug to kill a man in January.
As a case study in death penalty dysfunction, 2015 would be as good a year as
any.
THERE WAS SOME GOOD NEWS, of course. Moratoriums remained in place across the
country. In Connecticut, which abolished the death penalty years back but kept
11 people on death row, a court ruled that those prisoners should be spared as
well. In Nebraska, lawmakers made history by overriding a gubernatorial veto to
abolish the death penalty - the 1st Republican-controlled legislature to do so
in decades - prompting Gov. Pete Ricketts to desperately pour his own family
money into a ballot initiative that would repeal the repeal.
There were rare instances of accountability for official misconduct: Texas
prosecutor Charles Sebesta was disbarred for sending an innocent man to death
row, while in California an entire DA???s office was removed from a major
capital case after a defense attorney revealed vast and jaw-dropping misconduct
in its use of jailhouse snitches.
6 death row prisoners were exonerated in 2015 - both a bright spot and a grim
wake-up call - while others were officially pardoned and thus given a shot at
compensation for their wrongful conviction. People facing execution were spared
at the last minute - in Missouri, home to one of the country's most active
death chambers, Kimber Edwards had his sentence commuted by Gov. Jay Nixon just
3 days before he was set to die. And last month the Missouri Supreme Court
threw out the conviction of Reggie Clemons, whose case became a rallying cry
for Amnesty International. Both men faced execution despite grave doubts over
their guilt.
As 2015 comes to a close, the number of death row exonerations now stands at
156, though many more people have been released without formally being cleared.
Innocence continued to haunt the death penalty this year: "Serious
unreliability" was 1 of the "3 fundamental constitutional defects" cited by
Supreme Court Justice Stephen Breyer in his remarkable, sweeping dissent in
Glossip, which made the case for abolishing the death penalty completely.
Indeed, this year proved a bleak illustration of much of what Breyer argued in
his 41-page dissent. One stark example: what Breyer describes as
"unconscionably long delays that undermine the death penalty's penological
purpose." Across the country, prisoners spend so many years on death row they
are more likely to die of natural causes than be executed. It's a slow torture
(many on death row live in total isolation), not to mention a betrayal of the
promise of "closure" offered to victims.
Among those who died before reaching the gurney in 2015 were Florida prisoners
Jerry Wickham (after 27 years on death row) and Clarence Jones (after 26).
Another Florida man, Gregory David Larkin, committed suicide on death row. He
was the fourth prisoner to do so in the state since 2000. Prisoners died in
Nebraska and Tennessee, and, in California, where the execution chamber has
been dormant for almost 10 years, at least 3 death row prisoners died, the
oldest at age 70. Most recently, on the night before Thanksgiving, 67-year-old
Donnis Musgrove died on Alabama???s death row after fighting for almost 30
years to prove that he was innocent.
For others who lived to see the world outside in 2015, the death penalty
demonstrated its cruel reach. After a futile fight for compensation, Louisiana
exoneree Glenn Ford succumbed to lung cancer in June, just one year after his
release from Angola Prison, where he spent 30 years on death row. In Indiana, a
woman named Paula Cooper, who was once the youngest death row prisoner in the
country, committed suicide after struggling to survive in a world that still
generally saw her only for the crime she committed at 15.
SO WHAT ABOUT the 28 who were actually executed? There's no denying they
represented some brutal and vicious crimes. But they were also emblematic of
the lie that we reserve death sentences for the "worst of the worst." Among
those killed in 2015 were prisoners with severe mental problems, people with
strong innocence claims, and individuals who were clearly rehabilitated and
deserving of clemency.
Take Georgia alone, the state that carried out the first and last executions of
2015. On January 13, Georgia killed 66-year-old Andrew Brannan, a decorated
Vietnam veteran who survived extensive combat only to unravel upon returning
home from war. He developed PTSD and was diagnosed as bipolar; by the time he
shot a police deputy during a traffic stop in 1998, Brannan "was living a
marginal, fearful life, living in a primitive homemade shack reminiscent of a
bunker in Vietnam," according to a doctor who examined him. The jury who
sentenced Brannan never heard about his trauma or mental illness - persistent
problems among those on death row, 10 % of whom are veterans.
On the night Brannan was executed, The Intercept reported, law enforcement
outside the Georgia Diagnostic and Classification Prison in Jackson expressed
misgivings over the fact that Brannan had served in Vietnam. Other fellow
veterans tried to save his life. "What does putting a man like Andrew Brannan
to death say to my generation of veterans?" a man who served in Iraq and
Afghanistan wrote to the Georgia Board of Pardons and Parole. "To me, it says
that this country can exploit our youth to its gain and then, when it comes
time ... will discard you like yesterday's forgotten garbage."
Brannan was not alone in being executed despite his severe mental problems.
Just two weeks later, Georgia killed Warren Hill, a man whose developmental
history and low IQ had led him to be diagnosed as intellectually disabled by
seven different doctors. In theory, such executions are forbidden. Atkins v.
Virginia prohibited the execution of the "mentally retarded" in 2002, while in
2014, Hall v. Florida reined in states' wildly disparate standards for deciding
who qualifies. Georgia's own standard of proof is the strictest and most absurd
among the states: Georgia law dictates that prisoners like Hill must show
intellectual disability "beyond a reasonable doubt," a gross misapplication of
a blunt legal concept for the purpose of diagnosing developmental disabilities.
Georgia also reiterated this year its willingness to execute in the face of
lingering doubts. Marcus Ray Johnson was denied a new trial and executed in
November despite questionable forensic evidence. But in some ways, the
execution of a clearly guilty person - Kelly Gissendaner - was perhaps the most
disturbing. When I asked one death row prisoner what he considered the low
point of 2015, he pointed to her death.
Gissendaner was sent to death row for convincing a boyfriend to kill her
husband in 1997. (The boyfriend was given a life sentence.) While on death row,
Gissendaner came to embody the ideals of rehabilitation and redemption. She
became a "model inmate," a theologian, and a mentor and counselor to other
women in prison. Her supporters ranged from prison officials to the Pope. When
Gissendaner's execution was halted in March due to concerns over "cloudy"
execution drugs, it seemed briefly conceivable that Georgia might let her live.
But a few months later, the state denied Gissendaner clemency for a 2nd time.
She died on the gurney on September 30, singing "Amazing Grace."
Gissendaner's death sent a grim message to prisoners across the country. It
said that no matter how much you change behind bars, the state will reduce you
to your worst mistake. For those facing execution, the death row prisoner told
me, it robbed them of hope. "I'm sure it made a lot of men with worse cases
feel like they don't stand a chance with mercy alone."
"To sum it up," he said, "her case exemplified the lack of mercy in the
American justice system at this time."
(source: theintercept.com)
*******************
Defense lawyers: U.S. leaders' prejudice taints Sept. 11 death-penalty trial
The U.S. Marine lawyer defending the accused 9/11 mastermind said Friday that
America's political and military leadership had so thoroughly prejudiced the
case that nothing short of abandoning the death penalty could cure the taint.
"This case here will likely be cited for decades to come as a vivid example of
what is or is not acceptable in military justice," said Marine Maj. Derek
Poteet, the Pentagon-appointed defense attorney for Khalid Sheik Mohammed.
He accused "the entire national security apparatus" of announcing the
inevitable conviction and execution of Mohammed while the man who in 2007
boasted to a military panel he ran 9/11 "from A to Z' sat silently, clad in
white gown and turban. It was Friday, Islam's sabbath, and Mohammed, 50, wasn't
wearing his typical camouflage jacket to court.
The argument appeared to infuriate case prosecutor Robert Swann. He invoked the
inferno of the World Trade Center, the orphans of Sept. 11 and the 2,976
"heroes" killed that day and told the judge there was no unlawful political or
military meddling in this case.
"Accountability for Sept. 11 2001 will be decided in this room not from outside
participants. These men are presumed innocent until guilt is established by
legal and competent evidence beyond reasonable doubt," said Swann.
He called former Attorney General Eric Holder's comment that, had the case been
tried in federal court, the men would already be on death row "unfortunate" but
that and the remarks of 2 commanders in chief on Mohammed's eventual conviction
and execution had "no significance in this room."
Defense attorneys for all five men facing a joint trial on charges stemming
from the worst terror attack on U.S. soil were arguing an all-encompassing
motion that public remarks by Presidents George W. Bush and Barack Obama, and
others, as well as Pentagon and U.S. intelligence interference in the defense
privilege amounted to unlawful influence.
It is an unforgivable sin in U.S. military justice, so much so that the law
allows judges to offer a remedy to even an appearance of the taint.
Attorney Walter Ruiz, defending an alleged money man in the Sept. 11 plot,
spent a chunk of Thursday laying out a long list of complaints: Remarks by Bush
and Obama that the men were guilty and would die, refusal by a Pentagon
official to initially resource Pentagon-paid defense attorneys for a
death-penalty case; the CIA's use of a remote control mute button in the court;
troops mishandling privileged attorney-client communications.
Ruiz, like the others, sought dismissal of the case. Absent that, he asked Army
Col. James L. Pohl, the judge, to strike the death penalty and let his client,
Mustafa al Hawsawi, 47, get a separate trial. The message was Hawsawi, who was
captured with Mohammed and tortured in CIA black sites, deserved not to have
the taint by association with the man.
Swann, a retired Army colonel, described the argument as a product of the
imaginations of defense attorneys in the case, both U.S. military officers and
civilians. He added that President Bush only spoke publicly about the guilt of
Mohammed after he and co-defendant Ramzi bin al Shibh, 43, still free, did a
television interview claiming credit for the attack just ahead of the 1st
anniversary of the crime.
He called the list in the unlawful influence motion "baseless claims" and
"talking points" that don't deserve "the oxygen of publicity."
A standard for unlawful influence was set in the U.S. Army court martial of Lt.
William Calley for the 1968 My Lai massacre in Vietnam. Had President Richard
Nixon said Calley would be executed, Poteet said, "the case would've been
dismissed."
Judge Pohl at one point raised severing the Sept. 11 case, giving at least some
of the 5 men separate trials. Prosecutors oppose it, in part, to spare the
families of those killed that day more than one trial.
"This is the 9/11 Shura Council," Swann replied, casting them as an al Qaida
parliament.
The charges sheets give the 5 men differing roles in the plot. Bin al Shibh and
Walid bin Attash, 37, are alleged deputies to Mohammed while Hawsawi and
Mohammed's nephew, Ammar al Baluchi, 38, are described more as facilitators on
the 19 hijackers' travel and funds.
(source: Miami Herald)
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