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Clayton Anthony FOUNTAIN
Clayton was born in Fort Benning, Georgia in
1955 and enlisted in the US Marine Corps in the early 70s. He
allegedly shot and killed a staff sargeant at Grande Island,
Phillippines in 1974, for which offence he was incarcerated at
the Disciplinary Barracks at Fort Leavenworth until 1976, when
he was transferred into the Federal system, at Leavenworth
intially, then Marion.
Clayton was found guilty of four additional
murders whilst in Leavenworth/Marion and was ultimately locked
down in the SHU at the FedMed on 'no human contact status',
doing life without the possibiity of parole.
In the latter years of his life Clayton
converted to Catholicism, took several educational courses,
mostly in Theology or related disciplines and became associated
with a Trappist order of Cistercian monks at Ava, Missouri, who
postumously accepted him as a 'lay brother' after his sudden and
unexpected death of a heart attack.
UNITED STATES COURT OF
APPEALS FOR THE SEVENTH CIRCUIT
Nos. 82-2453, 82-2454,
82-2456, 82-2457
February 13, 1984, Argued—April
26, 1984, Decided
These appeals by
Thomas Silverstein,
ClaytonFountain,
Edgar Hevle, and Adolph Reynosa from
their convictions for complicity in the
murder of an inmate at Marion
Penitentiary, the nation's maximum-security
federal prison, Garza v. Miller, 688
F.2d 480, 482 (7th Cir. 1982), afford a
horrifying glimpse of the sordid and
lethal world of modern prison gangs.
The
story begins with a chance encounter in
1981 of three prisoners -- Galez,
Perumean, and defendant Silverstein --
in a county jail where they were being
held en route to various prisons. Galez,
who like Silverstein had come from
Marion, told Perumean, and Silverstein
confirmed, that a black inmate at Marion
named Chappelle had "disrespected"
Vargas, a member of the prison gang
known as the Mexican Mafia. Galez
reported that Vargas had planned to kill
Chappelle but had given up the idea when
guards had discovered and confiscated
the knife he had secreted in his cell
for this purpose.
Silverstein was a member of another
prison gang, a gang of white men known
as the Aryan Brotherhood, its symbol
being the three-leaf shamrock. He was,
indeed, a member of the three-man "commission"
that governs the Aryan Brotherhood. To
qualify for membership in the Aryan
Brotherhood you must "make bones." As
one prisoner explained, "In effect what
it means is you will kill somebody. They
distinguish the weed [sic] from the
shaft [sic]. You must have a killer
instinct. This is to be among an elite
and it's not for just any particular
white guy."
The
Aryan Brotherhood and the Mexican Mafia
are allied, among other things in their
hostility to black inmates, who have
their own gangs. (On the contemporary
problem of prison gangs see Fox,
Organizational and Racial Conflict in
Maximum-Security Prisons, chs. 3 and 5
(1982), especially at p. 136; Jacobs,
New Perspectives on Prisons and
Imprisonment, ch. 3 (1983); Jacobs,
Stateville: The Pentitentiary in Mass
Society, ch. 6 (1977); Porter,
California Prison Gangs: The Price of
Control, Corrections Magazine, Dec.
1982, at 6.)
Later in 1981, two
inmates at Marion -- David Ownes, a
member of the Aryan Brotherhood (and the
government's principal witness at the
trial), and defendant Hevle, a member of
the Aryan Brotherhood's commission --
were talking, and Owens expressed
dissatisfaction with the fact that the
Brotherhood had done nothing to avenge
the insult to Vargas, a member of an
allied gang. Hevle told Owens that the
Mexican Mafia should be given time to do
something on its own.
Soon
afterward Perumean and defendant Reynosa
(Reynosa a member, Perumean an "associate,"
of the Mexican Mafia) found themselves
confined in another part of Marion --
the "Control Unit" (also known as "H-Unit"),
where the most refractory inmates are
kept. Reynosa,, who earlier had told
Perumean that he too was upset that the
Mexican Mafia had done nothing to avenge
Vargas, now (August 1981) told Perumean
that he had heard that Chappelle, the "disrespecter"
of Vargas, was being moved to the
Control Unit. The said "they" were
planning to kill Chappelle and that
although he did not know what "range" (group
of cells) in the Control Unit Chappelle
would be on, "they" had people on every
range. If Chappelle went to D Range, "we"
would get him (presumably, the Mexican
Mafia -- Reynosa and Perumean were in D
range). If he went to C range, Tommy
Silverstein (now back in Marion, and
confined in the C range of the Control
Unit) would get him, since Silverstein
owed Reynosa a favor.
The Control Unit
at Marion has four ranges, A through D,
together housing 36 inmates on average.
The ranges are locked at each end and
each cell has only one occupant, who is
let out of his cell once a day for about
an hour and ten minutes either to
recreate in the range corridor or in the
Control Unit's special recreation yard,
or to take a shower in the shower room
at the end of the range. The inmates of
the Control Unit are served their meals
in their cells by guards. Although
inmates from different ranges are not
allowed to mingle, they can occasionally
talk or shout to each other. From the
Control Unit's recreation yard it is
possible to shout through windows at the
end of the range corridors and in the
Control Unit's law library to inmates
recreating in the yard, because the
windows give on the yard. Within a range
inmates can talk to each other between
cells and also while recreating --
especially since they are sometimes
permitted to recreate in pairs.
A few weeks after
their conversation, Owens again asked
Hevle what the Aryan Brotherhood
intended to do about Chappelle. Hevle
replied that Bartosh, another member of
the Brotherhood at Marion, was going to
be sent with Silverstein to Atlanta ("writted
to Atlanta," in prison lingo) to testify
in a case and the two would discuss the
matter there. During this trip, Bartosh
and Silverstein were frequently together,
and when they returned, Bartosh told
Owens that Silverstein had told him that
Chappelle was on Silverstein's range in
the Control Unit and that Silverstein
would take care of him.
Nine days later,
after their evening meal, Silverstein
and another inmate of C range, defendant
Fountain,
an "associate" of the Aryan Brotherhood,
were let out of their cells to recreate.
They were not kept under continuous
observation by guards during the hour in
which they were roaming the corridor of
C range. An hour and a quarter after
Silverstein and
Fountain were returned to their
cells Chappelle was found dead on the
floor of his cell.
Medical
evidence showed that he had been
strangled about an hour after eating, by
a cord held by two people as he lay on
his bed with his head leaning against
the bars of the cell. The next day
Reynosa told Perumean, "we finally got
the son of a bitch," and later
Silverstein told Perumean that he and
Fountain
had "yoked the nigger."
Fountain
told another inmate, "I am glad we
killed him," and Silverstein told
another, "I am just sorry I had to kill
him through the bars and couldn't get
next to him."
The jury convicted
Silverstein and
Fountain of murder, and they were
sentenced to life imprisonment. The jury
convicted Silverstein, Hevle, and
Reynosa of conspiracy to murder.
Silverstein was sentenced to 20 years in
prison, and Hevle and Reynosa to 40
years each, for this crime. All of the
sentences were made consecutive to the
other sentences that the defendants are
serving.
The lapse in
security that allowed Chappelle to be
murdered in his cell cannot be passed
over in silence. Because there is no
applicable federal death sentence,
because the Control Unit at Marion
imposes the most rigorous confinement in
the federal prison system, and because
many of the inmates confined there are
serving long prison terms without
prospect of early parole, the deterrent
effects of criminal punishment cannot be
relied upon to control the crime rate in
the Control Unit.
It is
true that since the regulations
governing confinement in a control unit
in federal prison do not contemplate
that a prisoner will spend his whole
term of imprisonment there, see 28 C.F.R.
§§ 541.48, 541.49 (the average length of
stay in Marion's Control Unit is 15-18
months), and since the commission of an
act of violence in prison is a ground
for extending a prisoner's stay in the
unit, see 28 C.F.R. § 541.41, inmates
have some disincentive to violent
behavior. That disincentive is
reinforced by the fact that a prisoner
under federal sentence (except for drug
offenses under 21 U.S.C. § 848) is
eligible for parole after he has been in
prison for a maximum of ten years, no
matter how long his sentence is -- even
if he is serving multiple life sentences
-- and that any additional convictions
will reduce his prospects for parole.
See 18 U.S.C. § 4205(a); 28 C.F.R. §
2.36(a).
But
since parole in the federal system is
not mandatory, the effect of an
additional conviction on a prisoner's
prospects for parole is inherently
speculative, and may be slight when the
prisoner's prospects for parole are dim
anyway because of the gravity of his
original crime. Cf. 28 C.F.R. §§ 2.18-
2.20. Moreover, Marion takes in state
prisoners who may be serving time under
sentences that do not allow for parole;
there are more than 50 state prisoners
at Marion.
All things
considered, to many inmates of Marion's
Control Unit the price of murder must
not be high and to some it must be close
to zero. This makes it essential that
the prison authorities protect the
inmates from each other. They try to do
that, of course, and largely succeed.
Violence in federal prisons is less, in
aggregate terms, than popularly supposed.
Seven inmates were killed in federal
prisons in 1980 (the latest date for
which statistics have been published)
out of a total inmate population of
almost 25,000, see U.S. Dept. of Justice,
Bureau of Judicial Statistics,
Sourcebook of Criminal Justice
Statistics -- 1982, at 550 (tab. 6.39),
567 (tab. 6.54).
Yet,
considering that inmates are supposed to
be both disarmed and closely supervised,
prison killings should be extremely rare.
And, while granting as we do that
federal court decisions expanding
prisoners' rights to challenge both
disciplinary measures and the conditions
of confinement have made it more
difficult than it once was to maintain
order in prisons, we nevertheless were
distressed to be told by government
counsel at the oral argument of these
appeals that even though security
measures were intensified after the
murder of Chappelle, they were soon
circumvented and another inmate was
murdered in the Control Unit.
Both
Silverstein and
Fountain have been implicated in
previous reported cases of prison
killings, one under the auspices of the
Aryan Brotherhood. See United States v.
Mills, 704 F.2d 1553, 1555 (11th Cir.
1983); United States v.
Fountain,
642 F.2d 1083, 1085-86 (7th Cir. 1981).
Another murder of a black inmate by
members of the Aryan Brotherhood is
recounted in State v. Farmer, 126 Ariz.
569, 617 P.2d 521 (1980). What happened
in the present case could not have come
as much of a surprise to the authorities.
The argument
pressed most strongly on this appeal
that the judge improperly excluded the
evidence of a key defense witness,
Norman Matthews. Matthews had been an
inmate in C range on the day of
Chappelle's murder and had been let out
to recreate right after Silverstein and
Fountain
were returned to their cells. When
called to the stand to testify he was
asked whether he could remember November
22, 1981, and when he answered yes, how
he could remember it, to which he
replied, "It was the day I killed
Chappelle."
Though
it should not have been unexpected --
Matthews had given a statement to the
FBI confessing to the murder -- his
confession in open court caused a
commotion. Defense counsel said, "All
right, now Mr. Matthews, you understand
this is a court of law and that you are
called here as a witness but you have
rights under the Fifth Amendment of the
Constitution of the United States not to
incriminate yourself. Do you understand
that?" Matthews replied, "Yes."
At this
point the prosecutor objected to the
questioning of Matthews. The judge sent
the jury out and himself questioned
Matthews to make sure he understood and
intended to waive his Fifth Amendment
right. When the judge finished
explaining Matthews' Fifth Amendment
right to him, the prosecutor said, "Your
Honor, I think Mr. Matthews should also
be advised of any potential charges of
perjury if in fact he perjures himself
on the witness stand."
The
judge then said to Matthews, "Well, do
you understand that Mr. Matthews? You
are under oath and that there would be a
possibility that if you would make a
misstatement that you could be indicted
and tried for perjury?" Matthews replied,
"maybe I should take the Fifth . . . You
convinced me I should protect my rights,
sir." The judge then ruled that Matthews
had a right to remain silent, recalled
the jury, and instructed it to disregard
the questions that had been put to
Matthews and the answers he had given.
If before Matthews
had answered defense counsel's opening
questions the judge, sensing that
Matthews might unwittingly incriminate
himself, had reminded him of his Fifth
Amendment right, there could be no
objection, in these appeals anyway, to
the judge's action. For that was the
holding of United States v. Colyer, 571
F.2d 941, 946 (5th Cir. 1978), and the
defendants do not challenge it. See also
United States v. Morrison, 535 F.2d 223,
228 (3d Cir. 1976).
Their
argument, rather, is that by blurting
out his confession in open court
Matthews forfeited his right not to be
forced to incriminate himself, so the
judge should have required him to
continue testifying rather than excuse
him. By excusing a defense witness over
the defendants' objection without any
basis in the Fifth Amendment or any
other source of law for doing so, the
judge -- the argument continues --
interfered with the defendants' right to
defend themselves. See Webb v. Texas,
409 U.S. 95, (1972).
Evaluation of this
argument requires us to consider two
rules pertaining to the privilege
against compulsory self-incrimination.
The first is that allowing an
incriminating statement to stand as
evidence against the person who made it
does not violate the privilege even if
he was not aware of the privilege when
he made the statement -- even if, in
other words, he was not knowingly
waiving a constitutional right. E.g.,
Minnesota v. Murphy, 465 U.S. 420, 1142,
(1984); Garner v. United States, 424 U.S.
648, 654 n.9, (1976).
The
reason behind this rule is that if the
witness blurted out his confession
without prodding, there was no
compulsory self-incrimination and hence
no violation of the Fifth Amendment. See
Garner v. United States, supra, 424 U.S.
at 654-55. This rule would be applicable
if the government were prosecuting
Matthews and seeking to use his
confession as evidence against him; but
it is not. The rule is not addressed to
the question whether a judge, sensing
that a witness who is not a party may
have blundered into making a self-incriminating
statement without appreciating the
significance of his action, inflicts a
wrong on a party to that case by
reminding the witness of his Fifth
Amendment right and permitting him to
withdraw the statement.
The second rule is
that if a witness confesses on the stand
to wrongdoing he cannot refuse to give
the details. See, e.g., Klein v. Harris,
667 F.2d 274, 287 (2d Cir. 1981). "The
privilege [against compulsory self-incrimination]
is to suppress the truth, but that does
not mean that it is a privilege to
garble it. . . ." United States v. St.
Pierre, 132 F.2d 837, 840 (2d Cir. 1942)
(L. Hand, J.), cert. dismissed, 319 U.S.
41, (1943). But since Matthews' initial
testimony was suppressed, his failure to
elaborate could
1345 not garble that testimony in
any sense relevant to the trial.
No court has
decided whether the district judge has
the power to protect a witness who has
begun to incriminate himself from
inadvertent abandonment of his Fifth
Amendment privilege in circumstances
where the government is not seeking
either to use the witness's initial
testimony against him or to get the
witness to elaborate on that testimony
in order to prevent distortion. But
since in these circumstances the judge
can caution a witness before the witness
speaks ( Colyer), and it would be
illogical to hold that he may not
caution the witness seconds later after
the witness has blurted out a damaging
admission, we hold that he may.
The manner in
which defense counsel questioned
Matthews provides an independent reason
for refusing to set aside the defendants'
convictions because of the exclusion of
Matthews' testimony. By asking him
whether he realized that he had a
constitutional right not to be forced to
incriminate himself, counsel invited
Matthews to retract his answer and
assert his right, and will not be heard
to withdraw the invitation.
And
since Matthews' affirmative answer
implied, as defense counsel intended
that it should imply, that he was
testifying with due awareness of the
possible consequences to him of
testifying, and therefore presumably
with greater reluctance to incriminate
himself falsely, the prosecutor was
entitled to verify that Matthews really
was knowingly waiving his Fifth
Amendment right -- really was aware that
he did not have to testify against
himself but that if he did so he could
be prosecuted and his testimony used to
convict him. If there was any error,
therefore, it was invited by defense
counsel's manner of questioning Matthews.
The judge's
questions designed to elicit Matthews'
understanding of the significance of his
testifying were not excessive in number
or badgering in tone or phrasing, and
therefore we cannot agree that by the
manner of putting them the judge drove a
key defense witness off the stand; nor
did the prosecutor intimidate the
witness, as in United States v. Morrison,
supra, 535 F.2d at 227-28, or United
States v. Smith, 156 U.S. App. D.C. 66,
478 F.2d 976, 979 (D.C. Cir. 1973). And
therefore the judge was also justified (indeed
compelled) to direct the jury to
disregard Matthews' testimony, as the
prosecution was deprived by Matthews'
assertion of his Fifth Amendment
privilege of an opportunity to
cross-examine him.
The judge's
reference to the threat of prosecution
for perjury if Matthews testified
presents a related issue. The judge said
that a misstatement could open Matthews
to a perjury prosecution. This was
literally true but was likely to create
a misleading impression because a
critical proviso was omitted: if the
misstatement was deliberate. The
defendants argue that by exaggerating to
Matthews the danger that he might be
prosecuted for perjury if he testified
on their behalf, the judge improperly
drove him from the stand even if the
judge's handling of Matthews' Fifth
Amendment right was impeccable.
In different
circumstances we can easily imagine that
a judge's telling a defense witness that
a misstatement (as distinct from a
deliberate misstatement) could result in
perjury charges would indeed be
reversible error if the witness then
declined to testify; it would be an
unjustifiable interference with a
criminal defendant's right to defend
himself by calling witnesses. But it was
not fear of perjury charges that led
Matthews to step down. When he decided
not to testify he gave as his reason his
Fifth Amendment right rather than any
fear of a perjury prosecution. And it is
difficult to imagine that he could
really have feared the consequences of
such a prosecution.
Matthews
is serving three consecutive life
sentences (at least one a state sentence)
for either two or three murders (the
record is unclear on this point). The
incremental punishment that would result
from a conviction for perjury would be,
as a practical matter, zero. Thus we
cannot believe that the judge's
misstatement about misstatements could
have been the
1346 decisive factor in Matthews'
decision not to testify; if it was
error, it was harmless beyond a
reasonable doubt.
This point may
seem to undermine our earlier conclusion
that Matthews voluntarily asserted his
Fifth Amendment privilege in declining
to testify. If he had testified about
the murder of Chappelle and his
testimony had been believed, he could
have been prosecuted for murder but at
worst this would have meant another
consecutive life sentence -- and what
would a fourth consecutive life sentence
add to the three previous ones? But this
is tantamount to an argument that
Matthews had no Fifth Amendment right
not to testify in the defendants' case
because he could not really incriminate
himself, an argument that will not wash
despite its practical appeal.
To
incriminate oneself is, as the language
of the Fifth Amendment makes clear ("No
person . . . shall be compelled in any
criminal case to be a witness against
himself"), to expose oneself to criminal
prosecution, Hoffman v. United States,
341 U.S. 479, 486-87, (1951); In re
Folding Carton Antitrust Litigation, 609
F.2d 867, 872 (7th Cir. 1979), even if a
successful prosecution is unlikely to
add to the punishments that one is
already undergoing for other crimes.
Matthews' Fifth Amendment right may not
have been worth much, which leads us to
wonder why he bothered to assert it; but
there is no more plausible explanation
of why he decided not to testify. The
hypothesis that he did so because he
feared being prosecuted for perjury if
he made an honest mistake is even less
believable.
But, the
defendants argue, if Matthews was
allowed not to testify, then at least
his pretrial statements, which included
a confession to the murder of Chappelle,
should have been admitted under the
exception to the hearsay rule for
statements against interest. See Fed. R.
Evid. 804(b)(3). One condition of the
exception clearly was satisfied. The
declarant was unavailable; Matthews
could not be questioned in court about
the confession once he took the Fifth
Amendment. Fed. R. Evid. 804(a)(1); 4
Weinstein & Berger, Weinstein's Evidence
para. 804(a)[01] at pp. 804-34 to 804-35
(1981). And we shall assume that the
confession was a statement against
interest (so satisfying another
condition), though the contrary position
is arguable since Matthews could not be
further punished in view of his life
sentences.
But
there is still another condition in Rule
804(b)(3) that is pertinent to this
case: "A statement tending to expose the
declarant to criminal liability and
offered to exculpate the accused is not
admissible unless corroborating
circumstances clearly indicate the
trustworthiness of the statement." (Emphasis
added.) As this language and the
legislative history indicate (see Notes
of Advisory Committee on Proposed Rule
803, Subdivision (b), Exception (3); H.R.
Rep. No. 650, 93d Cong., 1st Sess. 16
(1973)), such statements are suspect
because of along-standing concern --
whether or not well-founded, see 5
Wigmore, Evidence in Trials at Common
Law § 1477 (Chadbourn rev. ed. 1974) --
that a criminal defendant might get a
pal to confess to the crime the
defendant was accused of, the pal
figuring that the probability of his
actually being prosecuted either for the
crime or for perjury was slight. See,
e.g., United States v. Tovar, 687 F.2d
1210, 1213 (8th Cir. 1982) (per curiam);
Lyon v. State, 22 Ga. 399, 401 (1857).
The
present case provides a good
illustration of this concern. Although
not shown to be a member of the Aryan
Brotherhood or even a sympathizer,
Matthews may well be the latter; for he
is white, and there was testimony that "almost
any solid white man you run into is a
sympathizer. I would say the greater
majority of the institution." And, as we
have said, even if the government
prosecuted Matthews either for the
murder of Chappelle or for perjury, and
succeeded in convicting him, it could
not impose significant punishment. Cf.
Chambers v. Mississippi, 410 U.S. 284,
300 n. 20, (1973).
Unfortunately, the
precise meaning of the corroboration
requirement in Rule 804(b)(3) is
uncertain, and is not much
1347
clarified by either legislative history
or the cases. See Tague, Perils of the
Rulemaking Process: The Development,
Application, and Unconstitutionality of
Rule 804(b)(3)'s Penal Interest
Exception, 69 Georgetown L.J. 851,
958-70, 973-74 (1981). In particular, it
is unclear from the rule's language
whether the judge may look beyond the
evidence offered in corroboration of the
statement to evidence either directly
contradicting the statement or
contradicting the evidence offered to
corroborate it. If he may look beyond,
the rule is open to the objection that
it withdraws the credibility
determination from the jury. But
probably he may, in light of the
Advisory Committee's admonition that "The
requirement of corroboration should be
construed in such a manner as to
effectuate its purpose of circumventing
fabrication." It is noteworthy that this
caution was offered before the House
Committee further strengthened the rule
by inserting the word "clearly," which
had not been in the proposed rule.
Evidence that the
judge was not required to ignore created
a strong inference that Matthews'
statements were totally fabricated --
which would be no surprise in view of
his de facto immunity from being
punished for either murder or perjury.
Cf. United States v. MacDonald, 688 F.2d
224, 233 (4th Cir. 1982). Although the
fact that Matthews was let out of his
cell before the discovery of Chappelle's
body provides slight corroboration for
his statements, the medical evidence
that Chappelle was killed by two men and
the estimate of the time of death
entitled the judge to conclude that the
circumstances did not clearly indicate
that Matthews' confession was
trustworthy. Cf. United States v. Tovar,
supra, 687 F.2d at 1213-14; United
States v. Satterfield, 572 F.2d 687, 693
(9th Cir. 1978); Lowery v. State, 401 F.
Supp. 604, 607-08 (D. Md. 1975), aff'd
without opinion, 532 F.2d 750 (4th Cir.
1976).
But even
if the judge should not have considered
any evidence beyond that offered to
corroborate Matthews' statement, he
would have had to exclude the statement.
The mere fact that Matthews was out of
his cell shortly before Chappelle's
corpse was discovered was not clearly
corroborative of his confession, but
merely consistent with it. It is not as
if the statement had contained facts
that only the murderer could have known,
or if, as in Donnelly v. United States,
228 U.S. 243, 272, (1913), which Rule
804(b)(3) overruled, there was other
evidence linking Matthews to the crime.
In either case the requirement of clear
corroboration ("circumstances solidly
indicating trustworthiness," United
States v. Barrett, 539 F.2d 244, 253
(1st Cir. 1976)) would have been
satisfied, at least if one assumes (as
we do not) that the judge could not
consider the medical evidence that cast
grave doubt on the truth of Matthews'
statement. But on the facts presented,
the requirement was not satisfied.
We reject the
argument that Matthews' out-of-court
confession (whether or not trustworthy)
is further and conclusive evidence that
Matthews waived his Fifth Amendment
right not to testify at the defendants'
trial. The confession was not made under
oath; and the Fifth Amendment does not
allow the government to force a man to
adopt his unsworn out-of-court
confession. United States v. Diecidue,
603 F.2d 535, 552 (5th Cir. 1979).
We turn now to
Reynosa's contention that the judge
misled the jury by his response to a
question that the jury submitted to him
while it was deliberating. The question
was: "Is it possible to get the
testimony of August '81 of Silverstein
and Reynosa making contact about
murdering Robert Marvin Chappelle?" The
judge and counsel conferred about the
question. All agreed that there had been
no such testimony.
The
indictment, which had been given to the
jury with the usual instruction that it
was not evidence, charged that
Silverstein and Reynosa made contact in
August 1981. But no substantiating
evidence had been offered, although the
conversation between Reynosa and
Perumean in which Reynosa said that
Silverstein owed him a favor and would
if need be "get" Chappelle did take
place in August, and it implied contact,
direct or indirect, between the two. The
judge suggested telling the jury, "Sorry,
it is not possible to furnish the
requested testimony." The defendants'
lead counsel agreed, provided the judge
added, "Continue with your deliberations."
Reynosa's counsel did not demur. The
defendants were not present during this
exchange and the judge did not reconvene
the jury. Instead he sent the following
note to the jury: "Sorry, it is not
possible to furnish the requested
information. Please continue with your
deliberations. Judge Foreman."
Reynosa argues
that his right to be present throughout
the trial was infringed because he was
not in the courtroom when the judge
replied to the question that the jury
had raised, and in addition that the
judge's reply prejudiced Reynosa's case
by implying that there had been
testimony about a conversation between
him and Silverstein in August 1981 about
murdering Chappelle. Reynosa's counsel
did not object either to his client's
absence from the courtroom or to the
judge's reply to the jury's question;
necessarily therefore Reynosa is arguing
that these were plain errors. See Fed.
R. Crim. P. 52(b).
Rule 43 of the
Federal Rules of Criminal Procedure
requires that the defendant be present (if
he desires) "at every stage of the trial,"
and this has been held to include the
giving of a supplementary instruction or
other communication with the jury after
it has begun deliberating. Rogers v.
United States, 422 U.S. 35, 39, (1975).
But the requirement is subject to the
doctrine of harmless error. Id. at 40;
United States v. Burns, 683 F.2d 1056,
1059 (7th Cir. 1982); United States v.
Clavey, 565 F.2d 111, 119 (1977),
modified en banc on other grounds, 578
F.2d 1219 (7th Cir. 1978) (per curiam);
Ware v. United States, 376 F.2d 717, 719
(7th Cir. 1967); 3A Wright, Federal
Practice and Procedure: Crim. 2d § 724
at p. 31 (1982).
It is
most unlikely that a different reply to
the jury's question would have been
formulated if the defendants had been
present. It was not the sort of question
on which counsel would be likely to
consult their clients, or on which the
clients, if consulted, would be likely
to have an answer that would sway the
judge. In Ware, a similar case, this
court described as "fancifully remote"
the prospect that the defendant's
presence would have changed the outcome
of the trial. 376 F.2d at 718.
A more troublesome
point is that the reply was potentially
misleading. It could be understood to
imply that the testimony the jury wanted
to read had indeed been given but that
the transcript had not yet been prepared,
or had been mislaid, or the jury for
some reason was entitled to see the
transcript. (Another possible
interpretation of the note, however, is
that no part of the trial transcript --
whatever it might contain -- was
available for the jury to see.) The
implication the jury might have drawn --
that there had indeed been direct
testimony about a contact between
Silverstein and Reynosa in August 1981
about killing Chappelle but that the
pertinent pages of the transcript were
for some reason unavailable -- was
incorrect. The jury should have been
told that there had been no direct
testimony about such a contact but that
it could consider, if it thought it
significant, whether the testimony
supported an inference that such a
contact had been made.
But we do not
think the instruction actually given was
so likely to have changed the result
that a retrial is necessary to avoid a
miscarriage of justice, the test for
whether an error is "plain" within the
meaning of Rule 52. United States v.
Frady, 456 U.S. 152, 163 n. 14, (1982);
United States v. Blackwell, 224 U.S. App.
D.C. 350, 694 F.2d 1325, 1341 (D.C. Cir.
1982). It is true that the only evidence
of Reynosa's participation in the
conspiracy consisted of testimony by
other inmates as to incriminating
statements that Reynosa had made. But
there was a good deal of mutually
corroborating testimony along these
lines and if the jury believed it, as it
was entitled to do, then it had to
convict Reynosa, while if it disbelieved
the inmates' testimony it had to acquit
him.
A
suspicion (quite possibly correct) that
Reynosa and Silverstein had "made
contact" (maybe indirectly) in August
1981 could not have tipped the scales.
Of course the fact that the jury asked
for the transcript shows that the
question of such a contact concerned at
least one juror, and the form in which
the judge replied might have confirmed
the erroneous recollection of a juror or
jurors who thought there had been such
testimony. But since the judge refused
to supply the requested transcript, the
jury 1349
could not have placed decisive weight on
the erroneous recollection of the
testimony. Whoever wanted the transcript
must in the end have been convinced that
there was enough other evidence, as
indeed there was, to link Reynosa to the
conspiracy to murder Chappelle.
To be plain, an
error must be conspicuous, at least in
hindsight, and maybe the error in the
supplementary instruction was; but it
must also be an error that probably
changed the outcome of the trial, and
the fact that this error cannot be
dismissed as harmless (as can the error
in responding to the jury's question
without the defendants' being present)
is not enough to show that it probably
changed the outcome. See United States
v. Blackwell, supra, 694 F.2d at 1341;
3A Wright, supra, § 856 at p. 344.
No doubt
the difference between the standards of
plain and of harmless error is small,
but there is some, and there is a reason
for it. Reversing a conviction on the
basis of an error that the defendant's
lawyer failed to bring to the judge's
attention is inconsistent with the
premises of an adversary system and
disruptive of the efficient operation of
the criminal justice system. It is
justifiable only when the reviewing
court is convinced that it is necessary
in order to avert an actual miscarriage
of justice, which implies the conviction
of one who but for the error probably
would have been acquitted. We are not
convinced that there was such a
miscarriage here.
We also reject the
argument that acquiescence in the form
of the reply demonstrates that Reynosa's
trial counsel was ineffective. He made a
mistake, but (as we have just said) not
a critical one; the representation of
none of the defendants at trial fell
below the threshold of minimum
professional competence.
Although several
other issues are raised in the
defendants' briefs, none of them has any
possible merit. Hevle argues with great
vigor that David Owens' testimony was
unbelievable, noting that he gave
contradictory testimony on some points
and pointing out the irony of the
government's relying on the testimony of
the man who proposed that the Aryan
Brotherhood assassinate Chappelle. But
Owens' testimony was richly corroborated
by that of other inmates. If all inmate
testimony were deemed inherently
incredible, few crimes within prison
walls could be prosecuted -- or for that
matter defended.