“Mr. Opparizio, were you aware that your father and your uncle were members of an organized crime group known as the Gambino family?”
Opparizio had seen me offer the bound book to the judge. He knew I had something to back my question. Rather than throw out a full denial he went with the vague response.
“As I said, I left my family behind when I went off to school. I didn’t know about them after that. And I was told nothing before.”
It was time to be relentless, to back Opparizio to the edge of the cliff.
“Wasn’t your uncle known as Anthony ‘The Ape’ Apparizio because of his reputation for brutality and violence?”
“I wouldn’t know.”
“Didn’t your uncle act as a father figure in your life while your own father spent most of your teenage years in prison for extortion?”
“My uncle took care of us financially but he was not a father figure.”
“When you moved out west at age twenty-one was it to distance yourself from your family or to extend your family’s business opportunities to the west coast?”
“Now that’s a lie! I came out here for law school. I had nothing and brought nothing with me. Including family connections.”
“Are you familiar with the term ‘sleeper’ as it is applied in organized crime investigations?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Would it surprise you to learn that the FBI, starting in the 1980s, believed that the mob was attempting to move into legitimate areas of business by sending its next generation of members to schools and other locales so that they could sink roots and start businesses, and that these people were called sleepers?”
“I am a legitimate businessman. No one sent me anywhere and I put myself through law school working for a process server.”
I nodded as though I expected the answer.
“Speaking of process servers, you own several companies, don’t you, sir?”
“I don’t understand.”
“Let me rephrase. When you sold ALOFT to the LeMure Fund you kept ownership of a variety of companies that contracted with ALOFT, correct?”
Opparizio took his time thinking about an answer. He made another furtive glance toward his attorneys. It was a Get me out of this look. He knew where I was going and he knew I couldn’t be allowed to get there. But he was on the witness stand and there was only one way out.
“I have ownership and part ownership in a variety of different enterprises. All of them legal, all of them aboveboard and legitimate.”
It was a good answer but it was not going to be good enough.
“What kind of companies? What services do they provide?”
“You mentioned process serving, that’s one of them. I have a paralegal referral and placement company. There’s an office staffing company and an office furniture supply entity. There’s—”
“Do you own a courier service?”
The witness paused before answering. He was trying to think two questions ahead and I wasn’t staying in a rhythm he could pick up on.
“I’m an investor. I’m not the sole owner.”
“Let’s talk about the courier service. First of all, what’s it called?”
“Wing Nuts Courier Services.”
“And is that a Los Angeles–based company?”
“Based here but with offices in seven cities. It operates all over this state and Nevada.”
“Exactly how much of Wing Nuts do you own?”
“I am a partial participant. I believe I own forty percent of it.”
“And who are some of the other participants?”
“Well, there are several. Some aren’t people, they’re other companies.”
“Like AA-Best Consultants of Brooklyn, New York, which is listed on corporate records in Sacramento as part owner of Wing Nuts?”
Opparizio was again slow to answer. This time he seemed lost in a dark thought until the judge prompted him.
“Yes, I believe that is one of the investors.”
“Now, corporation documents held by the state of New York show that the majority owner of AA-Best is one Dominic Capelli. Are you familiar with him?”
“No, I am not.”
“You are saying that you are unfamiliar with one of your partners in Wing Nuts, sir?”
“AA-Best invested. I invested. I don’t know all the individuals involved.”
Freeman stood. It was about time. I had been waiting for her to object for at least four questions. I was spinning my wheels waiting.
“Your Honor, is there a point to all of this?” she asked.
“I was beginning to wonder about that myself,” Perry said. “You want to enlighten us, Mr. Haller?”
“Three more questions, Your Honor, and I think the relevance here will be crystal clear to everyone,” I said. “I beg the court’s indulgence for just three more questions.”
I had stared at Opparizio the whole time I’d said it. I was sending the message. Pull the plug now or your secrets will be put out there in the world. LeMure will know. Your stockholders will know. The U.S. Attorney’s Office will know. Everyone will know.
“Very well, Mr. Haller.”
“Thank you, Your Honor.”
I looked down at my notes. Now was the time. If I had Opparizio right, now was the time. I looked back up at him.
“Mr. Opparizio, would it surprise you to learn that Dominic Capelli, the partner you claim not to know, is listed by the New York—”
“Your Honor?”
It was Opparizio. He had cut me off.
“On advice of counsel and pursuant to my Fifth Amendment rights and privileges granted by the Constitution of the United States and the state of California, I respectfully decline to answer this or further questions.”
There.
I stood totally still but that was only on the outside. Energy flooded through me like a scream. I was barely aware of the rumble of whispers that went through the courtroom. Then from behind me a voice firmly addressed the court.
“Your Honor, may I address the court please?”
I turned and saw it was one of Opparizio’s attorneys, Martin Zimmer.
Then I heard Freeman, her voice high and tight, calling an objection and asking for a sidebar.
But I knew a sidebar wasn’t going to do it this time. And so did Perry.
“Mr. Zimmer, you may sit down. We are going to break now for lunch and I expect all parties to be back in court at one o’clock this afternoon. The jury is directed not to discuss the case with one another or to draw any conclusions from the testimony and request of this witness.”
Court broke loudly after that, with the members of the media talking among themselves. As the last juror was going through the door I stepped away from the lectern and leaned down to the defense table to whisper in Aronson’s ear.
“You might want to come back to chambers this time.”
She was about to ask what I meant when Perry made it official.
“I want counsel to join me in chambers. Immediately. Mr. Opparizio, I want you to stay right there. You can consult with your counsel, but don’t leave the courtroom.”
With that the judge got up and headed back.
I followed.
Fifty
By now I was intimately getting to know the wall hangings and furnishings and everything else in the judge’s chambers. But I expected that this would be my last visit, and probably the most difficult. As we entered, the judge stripped off his robe and threw it haphazardly over the hat rack in the corner rather than carefully put it on a hanger as he had for prior in camera meetings. He then dropped into his seat and loudly exhaled. He leaned far back and looked up at the ceiling. He had a petulant look on his face, as though his concerns over what would be decided here were more about his own reputation as a jurist than about justice for a murder victim.
“Mr. Haller,” he said as though he was releasing a great burden.
“Yes, Your Honor?”
br />
The judge rubbed his face.
“Please tell me that it was not your plan all along, and from the beginning, to force Mr. Opparizio into taking the Fifth in front of the jury.”
“Judge,” I said, “I had no idea he was going to take the Fifth. After the motion to quash hearing we had, I thought there was no way he would. I was pushing him, sure, but I wanted the answers to my questions.”
Freeman shook her head.
“You have something to add, Ms. Freeman?”
“Your Honor, I think defense counsel has treated the court and the justice system with nothing but contempt from the start of this trial. He didn’t even answer your question just now. He didn’t say it wasn’t his plan, Your Honor. He just said he had no idea. Those are two separate things and they underline the fact that defense counsel is sneaky and has tried to sabotage this trial from the start. He has now succeeded. All along Opparizio was a Fifth witness—a straw man he could set up in front of the jury and then knock down when he took the Fifth. That was the plan and if that is not a subverting of the adversarial system, then I don’t know what is.”
I glanced at Aronson. She looked mortified and maybe even swayed by Freeman’s statement.
“Judge,” I said calmly, “I can only say one thing to Ms. Freeman. Prove it. If she’s so sure this was some kind of master plan then she can try to prove it. The truth is, and my young, idealistic colleague here can back me on this, we did not even become aware of Opparizio’s organized crime connections until just recently. My investigator literally stumbled across them while tracking back all of Opparizio’s holdings as listed in his SEC filings. The police and prosecution had the opportunity to do this but either chose to ignore it or came up short of the mark. I think counsel’s upset largely extends from that, not what tactics I employ in court.”
The judge, who was still leaning back and looking at the ceiling, made a waving gesture with his hand. I didn’t know what it meant.
“Judge?”
Perry swung the chair around and leaned forward, addressing all three of us.
“So what do we do about this?”
He looked at me first. I glanced at Aronson to see if she had something to offer but she looked frozen in place. I turned back to the judge.
“I don’t think there is anything that can be done. The witness invoked the Fifth. He’s done testifying. We can’t go on with him selectively using the Fifth whenever or wherever he wants. He invoked, he’s done. Next witness. I have one more and then I’m done, too. I’ll be ready to give my closing tomorrow morning.”
Freeman could no longer take it sitting down. She stood up and started pacing a short pattern near the window.
“This is so unfair and so much a part of Mr. Haller’s plan. He brings out the testimony he wants on direct, then pushes Opparizio into the Fifth, and then the state gets no cross, no redress at all. Is that even remotely fair, Your Honor?”
Perry didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. Everybody in the room knew the situation was unfair to the state. Freeman now had no opportunity to question Opparizio.
“I’m going to strike his entire testimony,” Perry declared. “I’ll tell the jury not to consider it.”
Freeman folded her arms across her chest and shook her head in frustration.
“That’s a helluva big bell to un-ring,” she said. “This is a disaster for the prosecution, Judge. It’s completely unfair.”
I said nothing because Freeman was right. The judge could tell the jurors not to consider anything Opparizio had said but it was too late. The message was delivered and was floating around in all their heads. Just as I had intended.
“Sadly, I see no alternative,” Perry said. “We’ll take lunch now and I’ll be thinking further on the issue. I suggest you three do the same. If you come up with something else before one, I will certainly entertain it.”
No one said anything. It was hard to believe it had come to this. The end of the case in sight. And things falling just as planned.
“That means you can all leave now,” Perry added. “I’ll tell the deputy that Mr. Opparizio is relieved as a witness. He probably has the whole media throng in the hallway waiting to devour him. And he probably blames you for that, Mr. Haller. You might want to steer clear of him while he’s in the courthouse.”
“Yes, Your Honor.”
Perry picked up the phone to call the deputy as we headed toward the door. I followed Freeman out and down the hallway to the courtroom. I was expecting it when she turned on me with nothing but pure and piercing anger in her eyes.
“Now I know, Haller.”
“Now you know what?”
“Why you and Maggie will never get back together again.”
That put a pause in my step and Aronson walked right into me from behind. Freeman turned back around and kept going.
“That was a low blow, Mickey,” Aronson said.
I watched Freeman go through the door to the courtroom.
“No,” I said. “It wasn’t.”
Fifty-one
My last witness was my trusty investigator. Dennis “Cisco” Wojciechowski took the witness stand after lunch, after the judge told the jurors that all of Louis Opparizio’s testimony was stricken from the record. Cisco had to spell his last name twice for the clerk but that was expected. He was indeed wearing the same shirt from the day before, but no jacket and no tie. The fluorescent lighting in the courtroom made the black ink chains that wrapped his biceps clearly visible through the stretched sleeves of the pale blue shirt.
“I’m just going to call you Dennis, if that is okay,” I said. “It will be easier on the court reporter.”
Polite laughter rolled through the courtroom.
“That’s fine with me,” the witness said.
“Okay, now, you work for me handling investigations for the defense, is that correct, Dennis?”
“Yes, that’s what I do.”
“And you worked extensively for the defense on the Mitchell Bondurant murder investigation, correct?”
“Correct. You could say that I piggybacked my investigation on the police investigation, checking to see if they missed anything or maybe got something wrong.”
“Did you work from investigative materials that were turned over to the defense by the prosecution?”
“Yes, I did.”
“Included in that material was a list of license plate numbers, correct?”
“Yes, the garage at WestLand National had a camera positioned over the drive-in entrance. Detectives Kurlen and Longstreth studied the recording from the camera and wrote down the plate number of every car that entered the garage between seven, when the garage opened, and nine, when it was determined that Mr. Bondurant was already dead. They then ran the plates through the law enforcement computer to see if any of the owners had criminal records or should be further investigated for other reasons.”
“And were any further investigations generated from this list?”
“According to their investigative records, no.”
“Now, Dennis, you mentioned you piggybacked on their investigation. Did you take this list and check these plate numbers out yourself?”
“I did. All seventy-eight of them. As best I could without access to law enforcement computers.”
“And did any merit further attention or did you reach the same conclusion as detectives Kurlen and Longstreth?”
“Yes, one car merited more attention, in my opinion, and so I followed up on it.”
I asked permission to give the witness a copy of the seventy-eight license plate numbers. The judge allowed it. Cisco pulled his reading glasses out of his shirt pocket and put them on.
“Which license plate did you want to further check out?”
“W-N-U-T-Z-nine.”
“Why were you interested in that one?”
“Because at the time I looked at this list we were already far down the road in our other avenues of investigation. I knew that Louis Opparizio was p
art owner in a business called Wing Nuts. I thought maybe there was a connection to the vehicle that carried that plate.”
“So what did you find out?”
“That the car was registered to Wing Nuts, a courier service that is partially owned by Louis Opparizio.”
“And, again, why was that worthy of attention?”
“Well, as I said, I had the benefit of time. Kurlen and Longstreth put this list together on the day of the murder. They did not know all the key factors or individuals involved. I was looking at this several weeks down the road. And at that point I knew that the victim, Mr. Bondurant, had sent an incendiary letter to Mr. Opparizio and—”
Freeman objected to his description of the letter and the judge struck the word incendiary from the record. I then told Cisco to continue.
“From our viewpoint, that letter cut Opparizio in as a person of interest and so I was doing a lot of background work on him. I connected him through Wing Nuts to a partner named Dominic Capelli. Capelli is known to law enforcement in New York as an associate of an organized crime family run by a man named Joey Giordano. Capelli has various connections to other unsavory—”
Freeman objected again and the judge sustained it. I put on my best show of frustration, acting as though both the judge and prosecutor were keeping the truth from the jury.
“Okay, let’s go back to the list and what it means. What did it show occurred at the garage involving a car owned by Wing Nuts?”
“It showed that the car entered the garage at eight oh-five.”
“And what time did it leave?”
“The exit camera showed it leaving at eight fifty.”
“So this vehicle entered the garage before the murder and left after the murder. Do I have that right?”
“That’s correct.”
“And the vehicle was owned by a company that was owned by a man with direct ties to organized crime. Is that also right?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Okay, did you determine if there was a legitimate business reason for a vehicle belonging to Wing Nuts to be in that garage?”
“Of course, the business is a courier service. It is used regularly by ALOFT to deliver documents to WestLand National. But what was curious to me is why the car entered at eight oh-five and then left before the bank even opened at nine.”