Archive for October, 2009

Missing the Point

Friday, October 30th, 2009

You can imagine my surprise yesterday when this ten-day-old post suddenly lit up with new comments. They read like typical troll comments, but they were from lawyers. Local lawyers, in fact, and ones who seem to have quite a bit of experience. I believe I have multiple mutual friends with at least one of them, though I doubt he realizes that. I have no clue what possessed all of them to comment at once.

Like typical troll comments, they made ad hominem attacks. One writer accused me of presuming my clients guilty, another accused me of going off “half-cocked” without knowing my facts, and yet another seems to think I merely hold myself out as someone who practices criminal defense and accused me of throwing gossip into the potential jury pool. They asked condescending (and obvious) questions, like whether I’d read the DR (police report) and if I was joking by “speculating based on facts presented by the news media.” One commenter even seemed to suggest the criminal defense bar wasn’t talking about this. That’s bizarre, as I haven’t made it from a metal detector to a courtroom in Maricopa County Superior Court for the past few weeks without overhearing some attorney mention it.

The comments missed the point of the post entirely. They read it as commentary about David DeCosta’s guilt rather than commentary about a hypothetical situation I find fascinating. They must have missed it when I said that he “apparently” tried to sneak in drugs, that “my guess” is that the client just happened to get two lawyers who gave in to pressure, that “my hypothetical is far-fetched, to say the least,” and that “I’m sure I’ll never know” how much of a role the client played in what happened with those lawyers.

The second comment from Pamela Nicholson, a Phoenix lawyer with ton of experience and a good reputation, is the most interesting. She insisted that “this is not a ‘fascinating’ exchange among defense lawyers . . . this is a very serious discussion about what a criminal defense lawyer does, and does not, do.” It may be that kind of discussion now, but that has nothing to do with the original post.

If David DeCosta gets acquitted or the case gets dismissed, I’ll probably write about it. It’ll have no bearing on what I discussed in that previous post though. I hypothesized about what I thought was a fascinating situation. If the situation turns out to be different, my thoughts on a hypothetical relating to that situation as it appeared at the time will not have changed. Some commentators seemed to get the point and contributed something productive to the discussion.

I don’t just re-post news stories. I also don’t break news stories. I blog about things that interest me and that I think will interest my readers. My goal is always value added blogging. The blogs I read, the ones that made me start blogging, are not ones that merely recite the facts of news stories. They discuss ideas, the implications of the current events or personal and professional experiences.

I’m grateful for those troll-like comments because they made me think. As a defense lawyer and a blogger, am I really obligated to refrain from discussing the implications of the alleged facts of any criminal news story until the defendant is convicted? Would I have been wrong blogging about Bernie Madoff before he was convicted? Can I ethically blog about Allen Stanford? Will my credibility as a defense lawyer be destroyed if I put up a post on Rod Blagojevich tomorrow? The answer is obvious.

It certainly wasn’t my best post. I could have worded it better, and the same is true of my comments. However, I doubt there’s any way I could have expressed my ideas without angering those commentators. I could have filled the post with “allegedly,” “supposedly,” and “according to the news,” which I basically did, and they still would have been upset. It hit too close to home, and the tone of the comments reveals that. I imagine a police officer blogger in Chicago or Atlanta would get a similar response posting commentary related to this or this, respectively.

I am amused by the sudden, massive response I got. I hope this post gets the same response, and not just because the previous response appears to have resulted in a massive increase in my website traffic and search engine relevance. It’s interesting to see how fellow members of the criminal defense bar reacted to commentary related to one of their own. I wish they’d have discussed it in a friendlier manner, and I’ve probably succeeded in pissing off three of my colleagues, but I guess that’s the risk of publishing my thoughts: people will miss the point.

Inequality

Tuesday, October 27th, 2009

Criminal defendants, especially ones who are in custody and hope to enter a plea, love comparing their cases with other criminal defendants’ cases. “My cellmate was facing the same charges and got a deal to probation. Why is my deal to prison time?” In most instances, they’re comparing apples to oranges. His cellmate didn’t have any priors and didn’t commit the offense while on probation.

Of course, that’s not always the case. The disparity in treatment may be real, and the two defendants may be similarly situated.

Differences could be caused by an ineffective defense attorney. The defendant may have a lazy public defender who sees no point in trying to get a better offer. He may have an appointed attorney who gets paid extra for trial and has no incentive to get a better plea. He may have hired a bargain basement private lawyer who considers it his job to make every client feel good about taking the first crappy plea the state throws their way.

The cause for disparity could also be the assigned prosecutor. We are so concerned about making sure people aren’t treated differently that we’ve created a system where everyone who chooses to go to trial gets royally screwed if they lose. We’ve made things equally bad for everybody in that situation. What we haven’t done, however, is eliminate plea-bargaining.

As I’ve discussed before, you have no right to a plea. I deal with some great prosecutors almost every day, but I also deal with some terrible prosecutors. The worst prosecutors make ridiculous offers. They don’t know the facts of the cases they’re prosecuting, and they don’t care. As long as prosecutors can offer plea bargains to lesser charges or dismiss counts, people are going to be treated differently. The assigned prosecutor can be the major factor in what happens to a criminal defendant.

Rigid plea-bargaining guidelines do nothing to promote equality. They just shift the initial burden to the defense attorney. The prosecutor will make the same offer he or she always makes, then it’s up to the defendant’s lawyer to try to fix it if it’s wrong. A defendant with a good lawyer is more likely to get a fair offer. A defendant with a terrible lawyer may have no chance. The buck still stops with some prosecutor who has discretion about the prison term or whether to offer the defendant probation.

I’ve had many clients charged with even the highest level felonies plead to misdemeanors with no jail. I’ve convinced many prosecutors to dismiss cases based on weak evidence. Sadly, I’ve also had clients charged with stupid low-level felonies based on minimal evidence grudgingly go to trial because the prosecutor wouldn’t make a reasonable offer.

The system doesn’t treat everyone equally. When the specific circumstances of a case, like the assigned prosecutor, cause a defendant to be treated differently from others similarly situated, it’s unfair. It’s also a reality we can’t do much to change.

When I was a kid, I always got the same response from my parents when I complained about something being unfair. “Life isn’t fair,” they would say. When people complained about his class, one of my high school teachers used to say in an unbelievably thick west-Kentucky accent, “there are three fairs in the world; the county fair, the state fair and the world’s fair. You ain’t at any of them.”

They’re probably right. The system isn’t going to be fair. Some people are lucky. We can try to treat everyone equally, but our system will never be perfect. Most of the time, our best efforts will only make things worse. We will only succeed in achieving equal unfairness for most.

The system is run by humans. Those humans have a job to do. Many of them have very specific ethical obligations. Some of them will take their jobs and ethical obligations more seriously than others. Because of that, some defendants will see the cases against them dismissed, while others will have to go to trial or take an unappealing plea bargain.

Unless we take discretion away from prosecutors entirely and remove their obligation to only pursue good faith claims, people are going to be treated differently. The only way to really make things equal is to remove the few remaining safeguards that prevent unfairness.

Do we really want that?

And The Machine Keeps on Running…

Friday, October 23rd, 2009

Adrian likes to call Maricopa County Superior Court “an enormous machine of injustice.” I think that’s a perfect description.

To some extent, every Arizona court hurriedly shuffles criminal defendants through one after another, but Maricopa County is especially cold and impersonal. Each person being prosecuted is one little thousandth of a percent added or subtracted from some number Andrew Thomas hopes to brag about come next election. Unavailable deputy county attorneys and a crowded master calendar serve to ensure that no defendant’s voice gets heard prior to trial, if at all.

More than anyone else, illegal immigrants find themselves on the conveyor belt heading straight into the machine. When sheriff’s deputies pick up a van full of illegals driving through the county, the wheels of the machine begin turning immediately. They’re all arrested and interviewed. When I see a client has an immigration hold, I expect a perfect confession to appear somewhere in the state’s disclosure. It’s an amazing coincidence. They admit to the crime and to their unlawful status in this country.

They will all be held without bond, and every passenger will get charged with conspiracy to smuggle themselves or solicitation. The driver will get charged with smuggling humans. Every passenger will get a plea to a class 6 designated felony stipulating to probation (which in reality means deportation), a term of jail equal to time-served (usually a month or two), and sentencing at the time of the change of plea (so they can immediately be handed over the immigration authorities). Everyone will enter that plea at their first pretrial conference. Always. There will never be any different pleas.

The driver, unless he’s a real coyote, will get a plea to a class 5 felony with no agreements as to the sentence. The driver could therefore get six months to two and a half years in prison or probation with up to a year of jail. I know of only two judges who hear these cases. One always give probation (meaning the driver is treated more or less the same as the passengers), and the other always gives prison. Every driver will also enter his or her cookie-cutter plea at the first pretrial conference. Always. Again, there will never be any different pleas.

In-custody Arizona defendants can have a trial within five months if they do not waive time. Without an awfully compelling issue and a Simpson hearing, illegals will spend that time in jail. Whether the verdict is guilty or not guilty at trial, they’re going to be deported. The real question for them is how much time they want to spend in Sheriff Joe‘s terrible jails. If they want less jail, they must take the plea. If they want more, they can go to trial. There are no other variables for them to consider.

When a bunch of illegal aliens get picked up at the same time, they typically get set for initial pretrial conferences on the same calendar. Everyone in court gets to see the machine operating at full steam. One after another, defendants stand up, plead guilty, get sentenced, and sit back down. Before long, they’ll all find themselves back in Mexico, somewhere near the border. I bet they’d like to never think about our country again, but it might be a long way back home, especially if they come from a southern state.

A large number of cases rolling through the Maricopa County machine have serious constitutional problems. All kind of procedural rules may have been broken by poorly trained deputies. Defense attorneys tell me about fabricated confessions, exactly the same word-for-word by a dozen or more illegals caught at once. I hear about Hispanic people stopped randomly on the street by deputies hoping to find illegals. When those people can’t produce papers to prove their legal status, they’re taken in and police claim they were part of a larger group arrested around the same time. If true, that’s absolutely terrifying.

The machine of injustice pumps out impressive numbers. I wouldn’t be surprised if the county attorney could claim a 100% conviction rate in these cases, and most of the defendants never see a second hearing. The price tag for that kind of percentage is a system that treats guilty and innocent alike, ensuring the outcome is identical for each. Of course, it isn’t our fault. It’s just the machine doing its job.

Another One Bites The Dust (Updated)

Monday, October 19th, 2009

*** I wrote this post after reading about the case in the news and hearing courthouse gossip about what happened to David DeCosta. The police reports reveal a very different set of facts, which I discuss here. ***

About a year ago, a defense attorney named Jason Keller got busted smuggling heroin to inmates. The Maricopa County criminal defense bar was abuzz with talk of his supposed meth addiction and involvement with the Mexican Mafia. At the time, he represented a client named Jesse Alejandro in a murder conspiracy case. His client became his co-defendant.

A few weeks ago, another defense attorney, David DeCosta, got busted for doing more or less the same thing. Apparently, he was trying to sneak drugs to a client in court. The Maricopa County criminal defense bar has been abuzz with talk of him getting blow jobs from that client’s girlfriend. The client? Believe it or not, Jesse Alejandro.

I was pretty surprised to hear that another local criminal defense attorney decided to sacrifice his career and reputation doing something monumentally idiotic, but I was stunned to find out the same client linked them together. What is this guy doing to his defense lawyers? Is it his personality? Are his girlfriend’s “skills” really that amazing? All joking aside, I wonder how one person can get two established defense lawyers to give up everything committing a crime that’s virtually guaranteed to get noticed.

I’ve spoken with a number of defense attorneys about this, and we’ve all wondered the same thing: what happens in a client meeting with Jesse Alejandro?

Imagine you’re a defense attorney who just got appointed to a new case. You go through the security theater of one of the Maricopa County’s many jails to meet with your new client, then grab a seat in an interview room. The client approaches, sits down, and slides a photo of someone you love across the table. He tells you where the person lives and works. He knows the person’s social security number and date of birth. He tells you he’s going to have that person killed if you don’t do him a favor.

Anyone can say they’d do the right thing and report it to authorities right away, but things like that are always easier said than done. What would you do in that situation? What would the state of your personal and professional life have to be to make you give in? Can you really say you’d never do what he asked?

My guess is that Jesse Alejandro just happened to get appointed two lawyers who were desperate enough to break the law to get something he could provide them. In one case, it was drugs. In the other, it was oral sex. Lawyers are people too, and they probably had personal things going on that placed them in a vulnerable position. I’m guessing my hypothetical is far-fetched, to say the least.

I’m sure I’ll never know how much of a role Jesse Alejandro actually played in what happened with Jason Keller and David DeCosta, but I’m awfully curious.

*** I wrote this post after reading about the case in the news and hearing courthouse gossip about what happened to David DeCosta. The police reports reveal a very different set of facts, which I discuss here. ***

Shameful

Saturday, October 17th, 2009

Texas likely executed an innocent man. That man, Cameron Todd Willingham, was represented at trial by David Martin, a man I now believe to be the most disloyal and generally shameful defense lawyer I’ve ever had the displeasure of hearing speak.

If you want to hear what he had to say about his former client on CNN, watch the video below. I wouldn’t recommend viewing it if you think you might have problems stomaching a faux cowboy in a deep state of denial proclaiming the guilt of a dead man whose life was once placed in his undeserving and likely incapable hands.

The video mostly speaks for itself, but you can read some great blog posts about it here, here, here, and here. Willingham’s appellate lawyer even wrote about it here (the link is to the blog, as the link to the post itself seems to be broken).

I don’t have much to contribute to the discussion aside from my disgust. When I complain about bad defense attorneys, I’m usually talking about lawyers who could never in their wildest dreams hope to hold a candle to David Martin’s lack of ethics. I don’t believe I’ve ever met a lawyer who’d trash a deceased client on national television. I hope I never meet one. How David Martin ever managed to get himself appointed to a death case is beyond me.

Jail: US v. Mexico

Wednesday, October 14th, 2009

I recently met with a potential client who is a Mexican citizen. He doesn’t reside in the United States and is absolutely terrified of doing any time in jail in Arizona. That isn’t exactly an unusual feeling for a person to have, but this guy should be capable of holding his own in a tough situation. He is familiar with our country. I don’t want to say what he does for a living, not because it is illegal, but because I don’t want to impact his career in case someone starts snooping into his life. Suffice it to say, this guy shouldn’t really be worried about a few days in the county jailhouse.

It got me thinking. Do people in Mexico fear our jails like a lot of Americans fear Mexican jails? I have no experience with Mexican jail, but I have to say the thought crosses my mind every time I’m in Mexico that I could accidentally end up incarcerated south of the border, where terrible things might ensue. I think my fear comes from urban myths and the general misunderstanding of Mexico that I share with most of my fellow Americans.

It makes me wonder if he knows something I don’t. Maybe our jails are worse than Mexican jails. Maybe Mexicans get treated very harshly in Maricopa County.

Judges Aren't Always Right

Monday, October 12th, 2009

A week or two ago, I saw a judge make a ruling completely contrary to the law. It happens, but usually not so obviously.

The judge was hearing a number of pleas at once. Two of the defendants were in custody and pleading to aggravated DUI. Pursuant to A.R.S. § 28-1383(D) and (E), certain types of felony DUI require that a defendant spend a certain amount of time in prison before being placed on probation.

In Arizona, prison and jail are different. Jails are run by counties and cities, and felony defendants spend their time in county jail pending resolution of their criminal matters. Prisons are run by the state. You can only go to prison if you are sentenced.

Both of those pleading defendants were in custody and had pleas stipulating to probation with the mandatory prison required by the statute. Both had pleas giving them credit against the mandatory prison term for the time they spent in jail prior to sentencing.

The judge indicated he could not give them credit for jail served because the statute specifically said the time had to be “in prison.” On its face, that seems to be what the statute requires. It isn’t, and the judge was wrong.

A.R.S.§ 13-709(B) provides that “[a]ll time actually spent in custody pursuant to an offense until the prisoner is sentenced to imprisonment for such offense shall be credited against the term of imprisonment.” There are cases from each division of the Court of Appeals of Arizona holding that DWI statutes do not preclude credit for presentence incarceration time. Some are still good law and over a decade old (for the Arizona lawyers reading this, check out State v. Nihiser, 191 Ariz. 199 from Division Two in 1997 and State v. Mathieu, 165 Ariz. 20 from Division One in 1990).

The judge told the lawyers he would not give their clients the presentence incarceration credit required by the pleas, and neither attorney was able to convince him he was permitted to do otherwise. Each matter was continued for a week or two so the attorneys could work out an agreement that fit the judge’s concept of what the law required.

Hopefully, the attorneys have already brought to the judge’s attention the statute and cases I mentioned above. I sent one of them the cites after the hearing, and I hope both clients enter those pleas again as soon as possible. I hope the judge has realized he was wrong. There’s no way he could have been right.

Here’s what I really wonder: when the judge realizes his mistake, if he hasn’t already, will he feel bad? What if one of those defendants ends up serving an extra week or two because of the continuance he forced based on incorrect legal principles? Will he only be embarrassed about being wrong, or will he feel guilt about mistakenly depriving two people of their freedom?

Plea or Trial?

Monday, October 5th, 2009

In Arizona, criminal defendants have no constitutional right to a plea agreement. The state does not have to offer one and can discontinue plea negotiations at will. If the state does offer one, it can take it off the table anytime before the court accepts it.

That puts a lot of criminal defendants in a very difficult situation. Many defendants have no desire to go to trial. Some want to avoid trial at all costs. A big problem arises when a client doesn’t want to go to trial, has a weak case and a lot of risk, and feels they have a right to a plea they’re willing to accept.

The problem is sentencing. Some Arizona crimes carry extreme sentences. If the state is alleging you committed a “dangerous offense” or have a prior conviction or two, you are probably looking at years of mandatory prison if convicted. The state’s offer will likely reflect your exposure should you lose at trial more than it reflects the actual seriousness of the alleged crime.

Let’s say the victim claims you swerved in his direction with your car, scaring him. You didn’t even hit him, but he thought he was going to die. You claim you were driving fine and he was drunk and stumbled in front of your car. It’s your word against his, and the authorities decided to believe him. You’re probably going to be charged with aggravated assault, and the state is probably going to allege it’s a dangerous crime because you used a car, a dangerous instrument, to intentionally place him in eminent fear of serious physical injury.

If you lose at trial, the judge can give you no less than five years of prison. The presumptive sentence is seven and a half years, and the judge could send you away for as long as fifteen years. Probation isn’t available. That’s what you’d be facing if you have no criminal history whatsoever.

The jury isn’t going to know how much time you’re facing. If they did know, your chances at trial would be a lot better. They’re probably going to hear the facts and think it’s no big deal. You’ll just get a slap on the wrist. They’ll have no clue what they’re doing to you by finding you guilty.

A jury might convict you. You may appear nervous on the stand. The victim may present really well. There is always risk at trial. There is no such thing as a guaranteed winner (or a guaranteed loser, for that matter).

I’ve seen a few cases with facts like what I’ve described, and the initial plea offer is typically going to stipulate to prison. The prosecutor sees a range of five to fifteen and decides anything less than five years is a good deal. The prosecutor probably thinks the charge is way too serious for a probation deal.

If the deal doesn’t change, what do you do? The state doesn’t have to give you a reasonable offer. You have no right to an offer at all. Sometimes, prosecutors won’t listen to reason. You may have to choose between a 50% chance of a lot of prison or a 100% chance of a little bit of prison.

That’s one of the worst situations defendants regularly encounter. Plenty of defendants fire their lawyers hoping a new face will get them a better deal. That rarely works. Typically, they just go to trial with a lawyer who’s less familiar with the case.

Absurd sentencing laws lead to absurd plea agreements. It seems obvious that every defendant can take a plea or go to trial, but mandatory minimums make that a tough reality to accept.

No Public Defender's Office?

Thursday, October 1st, 2009

I found this post by Murray Newman at Life at the Harris County Criminal Justice Center fascinating. I’ve been thinking about it and figured I’d write something. I’ve never practiced in a county that doesn’t have a public defender’s office. I can see how it might work in a very small, rural county, but it’s incredible to me that one of the biggest counties in the US doesn’t have one.

I think it’s natural that voters begin demanding that a giant, bureaucratic, government agency take over a task the moment they realize it’s sufficiently daunting. Indigent criminal defense for an entire major metropolitan area seems pretty overwhelming, so I’m amazed the people of Harris County haven’t insisted that committees of politicians be created to form an agency and appoint qualified bureaucrats to run it. Don’t people always turn to the government when they think something is too important to leave up to individuals? I may have just answered my own question. Maybe there’s no PD because people in Harris County don’t think indigent defense is very important.

A lot of my surprise is based on the respect I have for many of the public defenders I encounter here in Arizona. Some of the finest lawyers in the state are PDs. I know many devoted, brilliant, and trial-tested public defenders whose clients should feel like they won the lawyer lottery. Many of those lawyers, however, would never think about going out on their own. They may have the legal skills, but they lack the business skills. They don’t want the hassle of dealing with the nuts and bolts of running a practice. They want regular hours, a salary, and benefits. They may not be “successful enough to survive in their private practice,” as Murray puts it, but that has nothing to do with their legal abilities. They’re amazing attorneys, and if there was no public defender’s office, many of them probably wouldn’t be doing criminal defense. We’d all be worse off.

Murray’s post rightly notes that a support network of administrative assistants and investigators provides priceless assistance. It allows attorneys to practice law, not make copies or wait on hold. I don’t, however, agree with his skepticism about whether a PD’s office would save money. I never thought I’d be arguing that a government agency might save money, but I honestly don’t know. When you have an office of full-time public defenders, you have a good idea about what your cost is going to be. Many public defenders are overworked because they’re carrying unbelievably large caseloads. When a case spirals out of control, a salaried PD hopefully sucks it up and puts in the extra time. I’ve never heard of a PD getting paid more for having more clients or putting in exceptional effort. On the other hand, contract attorneys tend to be quick to be request extraordinary compensation, and rightly so. If they spend all their time on one case, they may starve. With a PD’s office, the burden can be shifted around to other lawyers. Clients don’t get pushed to the side because their lawyer doesn’t know if he’s going to get paid next month. I imagine costs are better fixed with an actual PD’s office. I think it’s possible costs are lower.

I generally agree with Murray’s points though, especially his comments about experience. Public defense offices in Arizona, especially those in Maricopa County, do tend to employ a lot of newly minted lawyers without much experience. I have nothing against new lawyers if they’ve had good mentors, find proper support, and work hard for their clients, but many new lawyers working for the PD have no desire to do any work on their own to prepare themselves to defend other human beings. I see an it’s-just-my-job mentality in a lot of new PDs that worries me immensely. These people want nothing more than security. They want to be one safe little cog in a big machine and are more than happy accepting authority and having a boss tell them exactly what to do. It’s always bothered me hearing PDs talk about “baby defender school.” Human beings’ lives are in their hands, and they’re being called babies? They’re calling other defenders of human beings babies? Whether their using it to describe themselves or someone else, it tells me they’re okay with a system where helpless babies are the only thing standing between the big, bad State of Arizona and a client. That should offend anyone with a decent sense of justice. I don’t think many contract attorneys running their own firm would be okay being called “baby” anything.

A pure contract counsel system might weed out the kind of PDs that give PDs a bad name, but almost every Arizona jurisdiction would have to change its selection process. It should be a lot tougher to get on the court-appointed lists here, as most of the criteria have nothing to do with legal ability. Time and a lack of bar complaints seems sufficient to get you even the best contracts. There’s no test, and they don’t require any special trial credentials, at least to my knowledge. I know a number of contract attorneys with years of experience who’ve never tried a felony case to a verdict. I know a number of contract attorneys who have no clue about very basic aspects of criminal law. A comprehensive test on relevant aspects of criminal law would get rid of a lot of dead wood on the contract panels.

I wonder if not having a PD’s office would invite competition among the criminal defense bar. For the most part, I think that would be a good thing. Do attorneys in Harris County fight to get the best contracts? Does the contract system serve as incentive to better themselves as lawyers? I don’t think there’s much competition in a lot of Arizona’s public defender offices. The support network in each office, instead of making everyone better at their job, sometimes seems to promote the status quo. It can quickly turn an office into a support group for lawyers who want to complain about their clients or justify the mediocre representation they’re providing. They’re all going to get paid the same no matter how lazy and incompetent they are. They just have to make sure they don’t mess up bad enough to get fired.

I doubt I’m contributing anything new to the conversation, but it’s fun to muse nonetheless. Whether I’m right or not on everything else, there is one thing that I do know for sure: if Harris County gets a big, bureaucratic, public defense agency, it’ll be there for good. Once the government starts doing something, even if it’s supposed to be for a short time or just a test, it isn’t going to stop. Like Milton Friedman said, “nothing is so permanent as a temporary government program.”