Sniper_ The True Story Of Anti-Abortion Killer James Kopp Part 16

"'Clean the computer' does not mean wipe the keys with alcohol," she said.

Bruce Barket argued that Marra was not aiding a killer, because she believed Jim Kopp was innocent of Dr. Slepian's murder. Kopp was a "Gandhi of the pro-life movement," who raised "hundreds of thousands of dollars" for his legal fund after his arrest, he said. "The government would have to establish that Loretta and Dennis knew Kopp was guilty, and that has never been proven."

"It defies common sense to a.s.sume they didn't know," countered Katz. "Their conversations speak for themselves. They knew that Kopp was wanted for murder, they have to know the government is looking for them."

Barket suggested that as far as Marra knew, Kopp had tried to wound Slepian, not kill him. "The government has been saying Kopp shot five abortion providers, and four of them did not die. He maintained that his purpose was to wound them, and Slepian's death was unintentional."

"Why distinguish between first-and second-degree murder?" asked Amon. "Either she knew he was guilty or not."

"She didn't know he was guilty at all, of anything," said Barket. "It was all well publicized, he did this four or five times, supposedly." Again, as he had done in Kopp's murder trial, Barket had invoked the shooting of the Canadian doctors, something that had never been entered as evidence in court.

Katz and Barket finished their arguments. All that was left was for Marra and Malvasi to have their say. Judge Amon turned to Dennis Malvasi.

"Do you have anything to say, Mr. Malvasi?"

"No."

"I just want to make sure you know that you don't have to take the opportunity, but that it is your right to address the court."

"No, thank you."

The floor was now Loretta Marra's. She stood and moved to the podium with her papers. "I hadn't planned to go much beyond begging you to let me go home to our children," she began. But she had much more to say. She wanted to take the court back in time to a year earlier, to the days in Buffalo before Kopp confessed, when her friend was still professing his innocence while awaiting trial.

Erie County Holding Center Buffalo, N.Y.

August 2002 Loretta Marra listened to Bruce Barket. He had something very important to tell her about Jim Kopp. Kopp's upcoming defense on the murder charge would be that he had never shot Dr. Barnett Slepian. It was a setup, he was never there. He told his friends he was innocent. Barket was not yet Kopp's lawyer. That wouldn't happen for another three months. But Barket had met with Jim, spoken with him in France and met him since then in jail in Buffalo.

"Loretta," Bruce said, "I believe that Jim shot Dr. Slepian. In France I told him so-told him I believed he was culpable and that I didn't think he was framed by anybody. But Jim was convinced he could beat it. The point is, Loretta, whether Jim is convicted or acquitted, he is not at peace with continuing to deny it. It's making him very unhappy."

Marra didn't know what to think, how to feel. Jim was such a dear friend. She could think of no one more scrupulously honest. And from a moral standpoint, she had no issue with Jim denying guilt even if he was guilty of the crime. That's the way the law works. No, the most disturbing thing from a moral standpoint was that if he was guilty, he was accepting money from pro-lifers under false pretenses. The entire discussion depressed her. But what could she do now? Jim had taken his stand that he did not shoot Slepian.

"Bruce," she said, "I have nothing to say about it. It's not my business."

"Loretta, it is your business," Barket said. "Jim is your friend, he's involved in this, and he'll listen to you. He trusts you. Focus on the moral question, Loretta."

She knew what Barket was saying. They were both Catholics, they spoke the same language. Even though Jim might be acquitted, he had moral obligations that superseded his legal interests. Loretta found her lawyer's argument powerful. She knew it was always better to shoulder any amount of suffering than do something morally wrong.

"If he shot Slepian and lied about it, from a moral standpoint, he needs to undo the harm he has done to his supporters," she finally said. "At a minimum, he needs to stop fundraising and tell the truth."

But Marra was also torn. If Jim came clean before her own case went to trial, she feared it would not only doom Jim to life in prison, but help convict her as well. She and Dennis would be finished. Barket started to smile.

"Actually," he said, "it would set you and Dennis free. You would go home."

Loretta stared at him, wide-eyed. She was stunned. She felt like lightning had struck her. She saw it all so clearly now, the release from prison, into daylight, the smiling faces of her two boys. "Bruce, what are you talking about?"

"I have broached, hypothetically, the subject of Jim admitting guilt, with Kathy Mehltretter. And Mehltretter said that if you can get Jim to confess, you will get a walk." Loretta's joy now switched to anger.

"You what?" she said. "You incriminated Jim to the federal prosecutor? You are not helping Jim, Bruce, you are hurting him."

"Loretta-"

"And against my-my expressed wishes, you try and negotiate a deal to benefit me at Jim's expense, without asking me first? And then you go and manipulate me, talking to me here for, what, an hour, raising the moral issues-all while you are playing some kind of lawyer game! Just a lawyer game where winning is the only goal? This isn't about morality, Bruce, this is about you trying to get your client out any old way."

Barket calmed her down. "These are hypothetical discussions I have had with her," he said. "It's a routine tactic in negotiations like this, and that will cause no harm to Jim. And by the way, through his lying, he's doing more harm to himself, morally, than anything the state can do to him."

Barket told Marra that if he could get a deal with the prosecution, she and Dennis could be released on bail immediately after Jim confessed, and later they could cop a plea and very likely be released on time served. Marra decided she wanted to meet with Jim to feel him out on the idea. A meeting was suggested to him and he agreed. But Kopp's legal team was opposed, for obvious reasons. Jim Kopp said he was not guilty, and that was going to be his position in court. Everyone knew how deeply he felt towards Loretta. What might she convince him to do? One of Kopp's lawyers told Loretta it was a bad idea, that she could hurt her friend by meeting with him. She could even lead him, inadvertently or otherwise, to make a decision against his best interests. She might betray her friend.

"You have to understand the hierarchy of values Jim and I share," Marra replied. "And also what we consider to be true harm. We are Catholics. The fundamental belief of Catholics is to undergo suffering for sin. If Jim engaged in immoral conduct, it would imprison him for life, spiritually."

Over the next several weeks, she wrote Kopp many letters, urging him to ignore his lawyers. Meet with me, please, she wrote. You are the one in charge, Jim. The lawyers work for you. Force them to let us meet. He seemed to be wavering, his lawyers continuing to press him not to meet with Marra. He wrote her a letter: Do not write me again or try to communicate with me in any way, he said. But did he mean that? Was it Romanita? Tell her what she needs to hear, what his lawyers need him to say? Loretta Marra couldn't believe his response. This couldn't be Jim speaking freely. She started to write a letter. She planned to lie, tell him that she would acquiesce, respect his decision, would not bother him anymore. No. She did not mail the letter. She wrote a different letter instead. "Jim," she wrote, "if we have ever been friends, you'll meet me." Finally, he agreed.

She entered the meeting room at the Erie County Holding Center and saw her friend. She was instantly struck by how thin and distraught Jim looked. He was not at peace. She sat down beside him. Barket and one of Kopp's lawyers stood off to one side. He looked into her pale, thin face, the green eyes. Loretta Marra did not come off well in photos in the media. Mug shots are never flattering. But in person, her eyes mesmerized, drew you in. Jim's voice was a soft whisper, out of earshot of the lawyers.

"Loretta, I shot Slepian, but I didn't mean for him to die." Tears formed in his eyes.

"Jim, people donated money based on your denial that you were the shooter."

"I know, I know. I've been racked with guilt for so long. That's why I stopped making public denials, stopped fundraising. I know I'll have to tell the truth at some point. After all our trials are over-win, lose or draw-I will."

Kopp told her he still thought it was best to go through with his trial pleading innocent. It would be best for the pro-life movement if he were acquitted, and he wanted to nail the FBI to the wall for treating his friends badly, for stomping on everyone he had ever known or loved. "But don't you think a pre-trial admission would be better in principle?" she asked. He thought about that. Then he grew agitated. No, no, it was enough to confess after the trial. One of his lawyers interrupted them. It was time. The meeting was over. Marra got up to leave.

"Loretta," Jim said. "I want to tell the truth. But I just can't do it now. If I do, it will destroy you and Dennis. I know what they'll do, they'll say you two knew everything and you'll get slammed."

"Jim, no, that's not what will happen. In fact it will send us home. Mehltretter says we'll get a walk."

Kopp frowned. "Why didn't you tell me this right away-that it would benefit you?" he said. He sounded bitter.

"You're right. But I knew that if I told you about the potential for a walk, you would reflexively sacrifice yourself. I know you, Jim, that's what you would do. And I don't want you to lose your life for me."

Marra left the cell. Barket and Marra asked to meet with Kopp again. His lawyers continued to oppose it. But he met with Loretta a second time. And then a third. He agonized over what to do, still undecided. "When I'm with my lawyers it feels like I'm in h.e.l.l," he told her. "I'm fine with them one on one, but when they doubleteam me I can't stand up to them. If not for you, Loretta, if you hadn't pushed for the meetings, they wouldn't have happened. I am just so grateful."

"Jim," she said. "You've got to fire your lawyers. Can you not see the pattern here? Every time we speak, it's like things used to be, you are your old self, you're ready to free your conscience."

At the fourth meeting, in November, he seemed relaxed, at peace. He was ready to admit to shooting Slepian. It would set Loretta free. But first he wanted to ask the court to let him change the defense team, go with Bruce Barket as his lawyer. And there was one thing that was still bothering him.

"Even if I confess," he told Loretta, "and they tell you you're getting a walk, you will still be in danger. I can't help but think you're being set up by the government."

"Bruce says -"

"If it's too good to be true, it probably is, Loretta. Are you sure they won't find a way to railroad you?"

"Bruce has an understanding with Kathy Mehltretter. It just needs to be formalized, technicalities worked out. Jim, the government stands to benefit so much from your admission. And what's the government going to do, stand up in court and try to tell a judge that your admission did not help their case? Bruce has this expression-he said that won't pa.s.s 'the straight face test.'"

Kopp said she was still in danger. She could be sacrificing her legal interests, and thus the interests of her family, by encouraging him to confess before trial.

"Jim, if I were not positive that your admission will release us, I would beg you to endure your own moral pain and speak after our case was done with."

Jim Kopp finally had his opportunity to save Loretta. Everything changed after that. He confessed to the Buffalo News reporters, in Barket's presence. He put it all out there, why he shot Dr. Slepian, how he did it. But Bruce Barket had made a big mistake. He did not yet have a deal finalized with the prosecution that a Kopp confession would automatically release Marra and Malvasi. The Buffalo News waited eight days before splas.h.i.+ng "KOPP CONFESSES" on the front page. But Barket still had no signed deal from the prosecution.

James Kopp, Barket's new client, had figuratively hung himself. And Loretta Marra, his other client, was still in jail with her husband, and would not get a walk as he had promised her. Barket was furious. He felt the Buffalo News had lied to him, thought he had an understanding that the News would wait even longer before running the story. But the newspaper countered that, in fact, Barket had been promised nothing about the publication timetable. News editors said they told Barket that they would need time to write and edit the story, which would give him a bit of time, but there was no deal on how long that would take. Barket had made a major miscalculation. And he knew it.

In November 2002, after Kopp's confession, Marra and Malvasi were returned to Brooklyn to face trial. In early December they were again denied bail. Loretta Marra had sat in court that day, watched Kathleen Mehltretter recommend to the judge that the couple be kept in custody because they were a flight risk-despite Jim throwing himself on his own sword! They had a deal! Marra seethed, called the prosecutor a "lying b.i.t.c.h." Turned out Jim had been right all along. It was too good to be true. They had been set up by the government.

Chapter 28 ~ The Maltese Falcon.

Sentencing hearing Brooklyn Federal Courthouse August 20, 2003 Judge Carol Amon listened to Loretta Marra's story. Marra had spoken for a better part of the afternoon, flipping page after page of her speech, and was still not finished. "Ms. Marra, do you think you can summarize your last several pages for the court?"

"Yes, I will try," she said.

She told the judge the prosecutors had acted in bad faith, had made promises that she and her husband would be released if Kopp confessed-and had then gone back on their word. And now the prosecution was trying to put them away for five years. "I hope you won't let them get away with it," she said. "Because Jim would never in a million years have made these admissions prior to the disposition of my case. I beg you, please do not let them get away with this."

"To summarize, Ms. Marra," said Amon, "it is your position that Mr. Kopp made these admissions after conversations with you and that the motivating factor for him in making these admissions at the time he did was to benefit you and Mr. Malvasi?"

"Yes."

Now it was Peter Katz's turn. The prosecutor argued that in fact there had never been anything on the record, no "direct promise" for the release of Marra and Malvasi. And a newspaper was not the proper forum for Kopp to confess. Barket countered that Marra had been promised "credit" for delivering Kopp's confession. The fly in the ointment had been when the Buffalo News published the confession story before he had a deal from the prosecution. "The reporters essentially lied to me," said Barket. "They promised to hold the story."

Court adjourned until 9:30 the next morning. Judge Amon had come to a decision on the sentence. The government had tried to prove additional criminal conduct to maximize their punishment, to give them nearly three more years in jail. But Amon had decided the prosecution had not proved that sufficiently. "I'm not persuaded that the acts were anything more than harboring." She looked at Barket. "How much time has been served already?"

"Twenty-nine to 30 months, Your Honor. Since March 29, 2001."

Amon said that Marra's words convinced her that she had a role in eliciting Kopp's confession, and that she deserved some consideration for that. But, the judge continued, the bottom line was that Kopp's confession, and Loretta Marra's role in it, was mostly irrelevant. Based on a strict reading of the sentencing guidelines for harboring a fugitive, Marra and Malvasi had already technically exceeded the incarceration guideline for the crime. Barket's eyes lit up.

"Move time served, Your Honor," he said.

"Your Honor," Katz interjected, "if you impose time served, that would not be appropriate."

"The guideline is low, in light of their conduct," said the judge. "And Mr. Malvasi has a really disturbing background of violence." But she decided to release Loretta Marra and Dennis Malvasi. "You are free to return to your children," the judge said.

In the gallery, friends broke into tears. Amon added a cautionary note. "You helped a man the FBI claimed was a murderer. And he was a murderer. Ms. Marra, in part of your statement you said you will continue to admire Mr. Kopp, and that your moral concern was not centered on his admission of killing, but that he lied to his followers about it. I find that troubling. I hope you will use your considerable intellect to educate your children; don't poison them with any notion that you were political prisoners of an unfair system, because that was not the case. You are sentenced to time served, plus three years supervised release and a $100 fine. You must reside in the Eastern District of New York."

"West Milford, New Jersey, is where her family is, Your Honor," said Barket.

"Then she can go to New Jersey today. This court is adjourned."

After paying their $100 fine, Marra and Malvasi were officially released. They walked out the front door of the Brooklyn courthouse arm in arm into suns.h.i.+ne and a warm breeze. Their skin looked even paler outside, Marra looked fragile. Reporters surrounded them. Loretta didn't want any part of it. Malvasi didn't shy away.

Dennis, do you think this experience will change you as far as your involvement in the anti-abortion movement goes?

"I am an abolitionist. I have never been a member of the antiabortion movement. So I don't know what you're talking about."

Dennis, did you know that Kopp had killed Slepian when you invited him to stay at your apartment?

"With this one, I was actually minding my own business. I have never met James Kopp, I have never spoken to the man. One thing I know is, if my wife ever asks permission again for someone I don't know to stay at our house, I'm going to say no."

Dennis, was the murder of Barnett Slepian wrong?

"I don't want to answer that. I'm on federal parole. You guys are asking me loaded questions."

They started to move slowly away from the reporters. Among friends and family, Loretta Marra broke into a smile. She had delivered the speech of her life in court. Funny thing, though. Marra had gone to great lengths to prove to the judge that she was the one who had convinced Kopp to confess. He had done so in order to free her. But Judge Amon would have freed her anyway. Kopp's confession was mostly irrelevant to the timing of Loretta's release. A reporter asked Marra about that.

Loretta, given that the judge released you and said the confession had little impact on her decision, do you regret, now, having convinced your friend Jim to confess?

The pale green eyes stared unblinkingly, her face now showing color from the flush of the moment, the heat. Tiny beads of sweat had popped out on her forehead. "That's a really good question," she said. "I'll have to think about that one for a while."

Loretta, will you still take part in anti-abortion protests?

"I just want to get back to my kids." Her kids. She had gone to Canada to give birth to both of her children. Why? She smiled at the question. "Yes, that's true. They were born in Canada because-"

Bruce Barket cut her off in mid-sentence. "Ah-ah," he said. "She's not answering that."

Loretta and Dennis walked away with friends and family, through a park and the shade thrown by towering trees. Celebrations would follow in the weeks to come, 150 pro-life friends would gather with the couple at a hall in New Jersey. But for now, a dozen family and friends gathered for lunch in the sun at a sidewalk cafe on nearby Chilton Avenue. It was wonderful, G.o.d smiling on them all. Louis, Loretta's seven-year-old, found a five-dollar bill on the sidewalk, used it to buy his mom and dad their favorite candy bars. Dennis and Loretta still wore their prison attire, the baggy white s.h.i.+rts, scrubs, but their appearance turned no heads, not in New York City. They finally tasted decent sandwiches, pickles. Sipped some Sangria. As they walked away, Loretta stopped and gave Louis yet another hug. And then her other son, the four-year old, ran into her thin arms. He was born in 1999 when Jim Kopp was on the run. Loretta picked him up, held him high, looked into his eyes, joy rippling through her. He was her baby. She had named him James.

Buffalo Federal Detention Facility Batavia, N.Y.

The scene is black and white, cla.s.sic film noir, 1940s fedoras and trench coats. The movie was filmed in Jim Kopp's old hometown, San Francisco, the action couched in fog and the dark corners of the Tenderloin district. In the final scene, hard-boiled detective Sam Spade, played by Humphrey Bogart, looks into the woman's teary eyes. She had murdered Spade's partner, tried to get away with it. And Spade had almost taken the rap for it-almost. And now he was confronting her.

Jim's mind returned to the present. But not for long. Thoughts overwhelmed him at times, crowding his mind, bouncing between places and people and events he had known, common connections, books, songs, Bible verse, Mother Teresa, pre-born babies, his family, Mom, Dad, Anne, Marty, Mary, Walt. The garish pink walls of Mary's bedroom where she taught him to read "Jack and the Beanstalk." Back to the present, looking into the face of a visitor on the other side of the gla.s.s of the prison visitor's booth. Picking up the black phone to speak to the visitor. Was the FBI listening today? Of course they were. He looked beyond the visitor's face, into the corridor. Who is that woman walking around out there? She looks like a federal prosecutor. What was she doing here? He picked his gla.s.ses up off the table, pressed them to his face, trying to make her out. No. It wasn't her.

The visitor mentioned Loretta Marra. Kopp had been overjoyed when he first heard that she had been freed in Brooklyn. Oh, to have been there to see it, he thought, to hear the music in the air-what a scene that must have been! As always, he was preoccupied by movies, novels. How would his own life, his story, unfold? What was the next twist, the next irony? And how would it end?

So many of his reference points were related to pop culture, Hollywood. He pointed out that Novato, a town north of where he had lived in California, was where his mother and sister and grandmother were buried-and was next door, practically, to filmmaker George Lucas's Luke Skywalker Ranch. And the hospital where he was born, South Pasadena Hospital? That was where a scene from the movie Pay It Forward was filmed.

He loved Pay It Forward, which starred Helen Hunt and Kevin s.p.a.cey. He thought about it all the time. You have to see it, he urged. The film had polarized critics. Some applauded it as feel-good and well acted. Others ravaged it as sappy, sentimental and ultimately manipulative. The story is about a teacher who challenges his young students to come up with an idea that can change the world. It is meant as a motivational mental exercise. You can't really change the world with an idea. Can you? But one boy, Trevor, takes the challenge seriously. He comes up with the "pay it forward" concept: he performs three acts of unsolicited kindness to three people, the only requirement being that each pa.s.ses on the goodwill to three others. His teacher says it's a utopian idea. But it catches on-all these disparate people, with no connection, suddenly coming together, and humanity is redeemed.

Jim Kopp thought of the movie as the story of his life. But why? Pay It Forward has a surprisingly dark ending. Trevor is famous, the movement spreads. One day, he comes to the aid of a smaller child who is being picked on by schoolyard bullies, and is himself stabbed to death. Cue the candlelit vigil, soft music. Kopp had always seen himself as a victim soul. Suffer for the cause, for G.o.d, die, painfully. But Kopp was now almost 50, and still alive. But for how long? He was certain he still might face execution. Impossible, wasn't it? France and the United States had long ago signed the extradition deal in his case. There would be no death penalty. He grinned at that bit of conventional wisdom. His case was still wide open. The trial on the federal charges was still to come. They would make an example of him. He had seen this letter, signed by Jacques Chirac, the French president. Read it with his own eyes. It proved that nothing is in stone, and the needle was still on the table. He was sure of that.

But back to more immediate concerns. Goodness, how solitary confinement compressed his already busy mind, squeezed it all together! The federal trial was still weeks, months, away. And he did not want a date set any time soon. What was he planning to do at that trial? He had confessed already to shooting Dr. Slepian. But that meant nothing for the new trial. The government would need to prove his guilt all over again. Would federal prosecutors bring up his pattern of behavior to prove his crime? Not only had he shot Dr. Slepian, but he had very likely shot Dr. Hugh Short in Ancaster, had cased out the property at least a week in advance?

Canada was part of Jim Kopp's story. The visitor mentioned Ancaster to Kopp-Jim, they have your DNA from Dr. Short's backyard. They can put you at the scene. Kopp put his hand over his mouth as if gagging himself, shook his head. No, don't talk about Canada. Anything but that, he replied. He'll be on a slow boat to Siberia if he does-nothing against Siberia! It's better than prison!

In the movie that was his life, how did the next scene look? For him, for Loretta, for pro-life? Jim Kopp would have a surprise for everybody before he was done in court. Was he not a lawyer's son? The reporters, the prosecutors will all end up looking like idiots. He had even written it out.

"Imagine a letter, the very existence of which would send any number of lawyers, etc. etc. all scurrying and fussing yak yak."

What did that mean?

The black-and-white images returned. San Francisco. The cold dark heart of Bogart's Sam Spade, who, true to nothing or no one but his own code, is telling Brigid that her number is up. She is the real killer.