Source: Pittsburgh Post-Gazette (PA) Copyright: 1998 PG Publishing Pubdate: Mon, 7 Dec 1998 Contact: Website: http://www.post-gazette.com/ Author: Bill Moushey, Post-Gazette Staff Writer Note: This is the eighth of a 10 part series, "Win At All Costs" being published in the Post-Gazette. The part is composed of five items (posted separately). The series is also being printed in The Blade, Toledo, OH email: CALCULATED ABUSES With Their Backs Against The Wall, Prosecutors Bring Out Their Dirtiest Tricks Federal prosecutors frequently rely on promises of leniency when they use criminals to snare other criminals, but the government’s word isn’t necessarily its bond. In 1990, Mary Ann Rounsavall pleaded guilty to helping her brother deal drugs and was sentenced to five years in prison. Then in 1994, as she awaited her release from prison, prosecutors brought new charges against her in connection with the same drug ring that the government said her brother James was still operating. She and her brother were charged with bringing millions of dollars worth of drugs from Southern California to Nebraska and laundering the proceeds of the drug sales. She was even accused of selling drugs over the telephone while she was locked up. But the government’s case was thin. A judge declared two mistrials based on prejudicial testimony by government witnesses. So prosecutors pressed Mary Ann Rounsavall to snitch on her brother in exchange for a lenient sentence for herself. She refused. Prosecutors told her they might go after other members of her family unless she testified. She still refused. Then they arranged for her to see her brother, who had been taken from the prison where they both were being held and placed in a hospital intensive care unit, suffering from viral pneumonia and a recurrence of his rheumatoid arthritis. They told her he did not have long to live, and his grave condition at the hospital gave credence to their claims. Mary Ann Rounsavall talked to her mother, Gladys Rounsavall. She told Mary Ann it would be best to testify against James. If he was dying, then Gladys would at least know her daughter wouldn’t risk a long prison term. So Mary Ann Rounsavall testified. Her statements sent James Rounsavall to prison for life. In return, Mary Ann Rounsavall had been promised about eight years. But the prosecutors in her case reneged on their pledge. They made no request that her sentence be reduced based on her cooperation, and the judge had no choice under federal mandatory sentencing guidelines but to give her a 20-year sentence based on her own confession. U.S. District Judge Richard Kopf, a hard-liner in drug cases, denounced the prosecutor for failing to live up to his promise. He called the action "horribly wrong." Mary Ann Rounsavall also learned that her brother was healthy -- he isn’t dying at all. She was tricked. Disregarding Ethics The Pittsburgh Post-Gazette’s two-year investigation found hundreds of cases in which federal agents and prosecutors violated rules and laws to make cases. Some incidents went beyond treading across the line of ethical or legal guidelines. These cases involved actions where the abuse of power was cynically calculated to inflict harm well beyond the limits of the law. Marvin Miller, ethics committee chairman for the National Association of Criminal Defense Lawyers, admits he is a harsh critic of federal prosecutors and their actions.He said there is no question prosecutors over the past decade have increasingly subscribed to an anything-goes mentality, often pushing the limits of the law to the point that their conduct becomes unethical. "These guys are unconcerned about misconduct," he said. Thomas Dillard, a former U.S. Attorney for the Northern District of Florida and currently a criminal defense lawyer in Knoxville, Tenn., said prosecutors have free rein in such matters because the power judges once wielded to mitigate their conduct has been taken away. "They don’t have any authority in the charging, they have no authority in the sentencing," Dillard said. They have really no way of checks and balances like there used to be. "We’ve slowly conceded any oversight of federal prosecutions. There is nobody who is in charge that has any oversight. It’s been slow in coming and gradual in its appearance, but by golly, it’s here now." Arnold I. Burns, deputy attorney general under President Reagan, said the problem is not with the majority of federal prosecutors, but with an overzealous fringe element. "Every so often, you wind up with [a federal prosecutor] who is some sort of a crazy zealot, no background, no experience, no frame of reference, uncontrolled, unfettered, very dangerous, particularly with the sentencing guidelines," he said. "With them, the prosecutor has more and more power. In fact, he has all the power." Piling It On Another variation of sentencing misconduct is called sentencing entrapment — one of the most insidious forms of misconduct found in this investigation. Sentencing guidelines approved by Congress in 1987 require a specific penalty for every federal crime. Judges can’t consider most extenuating circumstances -- a provision set up so defense attorneys can’t shop for lenient judges. A person’s sentence -- and prison time -- is determined by the charge brought by agents and prosecutors. They can easily manipulate those charges, especially in drug cases, where the amount of illegal substances sold is translated into the amount of prison time a convict faces. For example, in 1992, Lorenzo Naranjo was sentenced to 10 years in prison for buying 5 kilograms of cocaine from a government informant in the San Francisco Bay area. The informant had pressured Naranjo for months about a drug deal and was turned down. Naranjo finally agreed to buy some cocaine, but not nearly enough to suit DEA agents, who told their informant to badger Naranjo to buy more, according to an opinion rendered by the 9th U.S. Court of Appeals. The informant finally succeeded, effectively doubling Naranjo’s prison sentence. Martin Parrilla of Butte, Mont., was also a small-time dealer who agreed to sell a government informant less than $200 worth of cocaine in 1996. Agents for the U.S. Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms told the informant to set up another deal and offer Parrilla a handgun in exchange for cocaine. That would also hook him on a federal firearms charge. Parrilla agreed to the deal, and was arrested on both federal drug and firearms charges. He agreed to plead guilty after federal agents dropped the firearms charge. But his pre-sentence report showed a gun was involved in the deal, even though Parrilla argued it was the result of entrapment. A judge said his hands were tied and doubled Parrilla’s sentence, as required by federal guidelines. Both Naranjo and Parrilla were lucky. Appeals courts agreed they’d been entrapped, and cut their sentences. That doesn’t always happen. In 1992, John Behler, a 49-year-old Vietnam veteran who lived in Dunbar, Neb., was sentenced to 19 years in federal prison for supervising a drug conspiracy in which he was the only person to go to prison. He’d never been charged with a crime before. According to the government, for three years Behler had traveled to Colorado, where he bought methamphetamine, which he then brought back to Nebraska and sold. Behler admitted frequently buying the drug in Colorado. But he said he used it himself. And 400 taped conversations made by federal agents on Behler’s phone disclosed only one instance where he sold the drug, providing a small amount to a friend of his wife. When Behler was arrested, he was carrying less than one-half of a gram of methamphetamine. Based on that amount alone, Behler would have faced only minor drug charges. But federal prosecutors found two former girlfriends to testify against him. One had been arrested on drug charges herself, and received leniency for testifying against Behler, though she denied any such deal in court. Prosecutors are supposed to correct such lies, but did not in this case. The other girlfriend said she testified because he repeatedly threatened her. Both said he’d sold the drugs he’d bought in Colorado. Agents found no drugs in his house when he was arrested, only $200 in cash, and no other assets to suggest he was a drug kingpin. Yet the testimony of his two former girlfriends prevailed. But prosecutors had only gotten started. The government arbitrarily decided Behler had transported one ounce of methamphetamine on every trip he made to Colorado -- 14 ounces total. Under the sentencing enhancement provisions of mandatory federal sentencing guidelines, that ensured Behler a sentence of at least 10 years. Prosecutors then used the wrong guidelines to add four more years based on the drug’s purity -- a mistake the judge in the case failed to catch. Behler didn’t have a gun when he was arrested, but his former girlfriends testified that he used to carry one. So prosecutors added a weapons possession charge, which added another five years to his sentence. Then they added more time for intimidating a witness, even though the testimony of the witness who claimed intimidation had been impeached in court. Had Behler faced state charges, he might have gotten probation. Had he been sentenced for bringing in 14 ounces of methamphetamine, he would have gotten five years in prison. But because of the manipulation of mandatory sentencing guidelines by prosecutors, he ended up being sentenced to 19 years as a drug supervisor. An appeal he filed in prison had some success -- a judge agreed to cut 7 1/2 years from his sentence based on the government’s arbitrary determination of the purity of the drugs he’d purchased. He has filed other appeals on what he considers other sentencing guideline errors, as well as discovery violations and perjury. Behler worked as a welder and a bouncer before he was arrested. He admitted he used lots of drugs. But by no stretch of the imagination could he have been considered the kingpin of a drug conspiracy. If there were a drug conspiracy, he said, "wouldn’t it look good if you had two people in jail, instead of one guy getting 19 years?" Helping Him ‘Jump’ In the fifth part of this series, the Post-Gazette reported on a scam by prisoners called "jumping on the bus," in which inmates buy inside information about a crime they had no part in, often purchasing it from government informants. They memorize it and offer to testify against people charged with the crime. In return, prosecutors promise to cut their sentences. John Pree’s ticket to freedom went beyond that. He said federal agents approached him and asked him to lie to help win indictments against more than a dozen reputed Detroit-area gangsters. The agents promised to provide the information he’d need. Federal agents had long sought to put Vito Giacalone, boss of the Detroit organized crime family, and several of his accomplices behind bars. Pree was a long-time criminal facing a life sentence after being arrested following his armed robbery of a home in 1992. Federal agents told him they could make that sentence disappear. In court filings, here’s how Pree described the deal: Federal agents provided him information about a number of crimes, including the torture and murder of Detroit gangster Peter Cavataio. Pree would plead guilty to these crimes, testifying that he’d been acting on the orders of Giacalone and his associates, who would face life sentences. In exchange, the life sentence Pree was facing for the armed robbery and being a career offender would be dropped, he’d be sentenced to 20 years for the murder he didn’t commit, then federal agents would quietly arrange for that 20-year sentence to be reduced to less than a decade behind bars. Pree said they also promised him a new identity and cash to begin his life anew. Pree said he agreed to the deal, even though he’d never met Giacalone. "[Federal agents] would bring me police reports to read, photographs, then their rendition of things that happened," he said in a recent telephone interview. Pree told the fabricated testimony of the Cavataio murder to a grand jury, and more. Yes, he’d burned down Giacalone’s girlfriend’s house in suburban Detroit so Giacalone could collect the insurance, he told the grand jurors. There were mob-ordered fire bombings, hidden business interests in brothels, intimidation of witnesses, political corruption and more, Pree testified. There were a few hitches. He testified that he’d murdered the gangster in 1986, when the killing actually occurred in 1985. And he failed when asked to pick his victim out of a photo lineup. "That’s because I didn’t know him," Pree said from prison. Pree said he repeatedly failed a polygraph test before testifying. Nonetheless, Pree’s grand jury testimony in March 1997 helped indict 17 suspected mobsters in the federal government’s largest crackdown of organized crime figures in Michigan. Agents placed Pree in the federal witness protection program and sent him to a prison in Minnesota to await his call to testify at the trials of Giacalone and others. Pree said he soon began to get nervous about the deal. There was no word on the promise to cut his prison time. Several of the men he’d testified against had agreed to plea bargains, so his testimony wouldn’t be needed at trial. And if the federal prosecutors didn’t fulfill their part of the deal, he feared he might be sentenced to life in prison for a murder he didn’t commit. And aside from that, he had found some things in his armed robbery conviction that he believed might help him get the verdict reversed on appeal. His misgivings intensified after federal agents stopped responding to his calls and letters. So in 1997, he withdrew his guilty plea in the murder. He told the court he’d lied in linking crimes to Giacalone and underlings. He said his FBI contacts had cautioned him to keep that information to himself. Even though he still faced life in prison on the home invasion charge, Pree said in an interview that the charade had worn on him. "I’m not going to lie for these guys [federal agents] anymore." Without Pree’s testimony, two suspects he’d implicated were acquitted, while others were convicted after prosecutors were able to convince another gangster to become a government witness. Giacalone, who was facing life in prison based on Pree’s statements, agreed to a 6 1/2-year sentence in exchange for pleading guilty to one charge of conspiracy. As for Pree, he has appealed his conviction on the armed robbery charge. And after withdrawing his guilty plea in Cavataio’s slaying, federal prosecutors quietly dropped murder charges against him. Keith Corbett, chief of the organized crime and racketeering section for the U.S. Attorney’s Office in the Eastern District of Michigan, characterized Pree as an admitted perjurer and said the government has contested each issue Pree has broached. As for his planned testimony, Corbett said, "We would not have attempted to use Mr. Pree as a witness unless we believed what he was telling us." Corbett said all of the matters regarding Pree are still under review. Pree has been removed from the witness program and is now imprisoned in Michigan. Jury Disregarded Sometimes prosecutors won’t take no for an answer. Even when the no comes from a jury. Federal agents in South Florida said Sal Magluta was the largest cocaine supplier they’d ever caught when they heralded his arrest and that of his partner, Willy Falcon, in 1991. They were in prison for 52 months before their trial finally got under way. In February 1996, Magluta and Falcon were acquitted on all counts. Defense attorneys were able to show that virtually every witness called to testify against them was lying or had been given freedom in exchange for their testimony. Jurors said afterward the testimony was not believable. Prosecutors weren’t ready to give up, though. Only a few days after his acquittal, they released information to the media showing Magluta and Falcon had attempted to negotiate a plea agreement in which they would plead guilty and turn over to the U.S. government vast quantities of cash, real property and cocaine in exchange for a lesser sentence. Such negotiations are supposed to be confidential. Then, only three weeks later, the government indicted Magluta with yet another crime -- perjury -- based on a statement he had made before he was indicted on the drug charges. Magluta’s attorneys were outraged. Their client had been acquitted and now federal prosecutors were trying to find another way to put him in prison. "The best evidence of actual prosecutorial vindictiveness is the release of information about the negotiations for a plea agreement in direct contravention to (federal court rules and their) requirement of confidentiality," wrote attorney Roy Black. "The only purpose for disclosing this information was to prejudice Magluta in the eyes of the public. The disclosure would stand as justification for the government continuing to seek indictments against him." Among the points made in their appeal: The 52 months Magluta had been imprisoned awaiting his first trial would cover any penalty that might be imposed on the perjury charges, which stemmed from statements he’d supposedly made 6 1/2 years earlier. Magluta’s attorneys also argued the government was simply trying to re-try a case it had lost. Magluta remains in prison, awaiting action from an appeals court. It has been almost seven years since his initial arrest. He has yet to be convicted of even one crime. Last summer, his problems got worse. The foreman of the jury that found Magluta not guilty was charged with accepting a $500,000 bribe to fix the case. That case is still pending. Bowing To Pressure Mary Ann Rounsavall has filed an appeal seeking a reduced sentence based on the government’s promises to her. In addition to accusing the government of breaking its promise, the appeal also says some of the testimony she gave in her brother’s case was provided by federal agents. During a telephone interview, she described how she finally relented to government pressure and agreed to testify against her brother. She remembers the fateful meeting with Assistant U.S. Attorney Bruce Gillen after weeks of negotiations about whether she would tell on her brother. Gillen didn’t respond to a Post-Gazette request for comment. "I said, ‘If I sign this plea agreement, how much time am I going to do?’ Bruce Gillen told me seven to 10 years. At the time, I was so upset with everything that I just said yes," she said. At a hearing in October, the government argued she had not fully cooperated in return for leniency, an argument her sentencing judge had earlier rejected. During the course of her research into the appeal, Rounsavall said she found another case where the same U.S. Attorney’s office did not fulfill promises it made on a deal. In that case, Roderick Pipes and LaSalle N. Waldrip, two Nebraska men caught in a cocaine case, had cooperated with the government. In September 1997, the 8th U.S. Court of Appeals reversed the sentences they received after the government refused to give them reduced prison time. In that case, Nebraska agents said the two men had been forthright in their assistance, while agents in Oklahoma said they had not. The re-sentencing of the two men has not been resolved. As for Rounsavall, on Friday a judge granted her motion to compel the government to abide by its agreement. She will be resentenced Jan. 6. - --- Checked-by: Richard Lake