The Bluegrass Conspiracy

by Sally Denton

  Drew was scheduled to be sentenced the following month in the China Lake case and was certain to receive jail time—despite the fact that Lexington police officers had told federal probation authorities about Drew’s sterling reputation as a lawyer and police officer. With Drew Thornton, Mike Kelly, Bradley Bryant, and Bonnie Kelly incarcerated, Ralph felt his job was becoming easier. He split his men between his two main targets, Jimmy Lambert and Henry Vance, with Vance receiving the most attention.

  The Lambert surveillance was in full force by May of 1982. Ralph was receiving good information from his sources that had access to Lambert, and Betty’s statement had underscored Ralph’s belief that Company members associated frequently with Lambert and Lambert’s rich horsy-set friends. According to Betty, Drew and the Kellys visited Lambert on a regular basis.

  Ralph felt an obligation to notify Neil Welch of the burgeoning Lambert investigation—considering its political sensitivity. The probe had suddenly quickened and a state police raid on Lambert’s house seemed imminent.

  Ralph found that Welch was not surprised by the information. “Isn’t he [Lambert] the guy I see over at Cave Hill all the time with Brown?” Welch asked Ralph.

  “That’s him,” Ralph responded.

  “Well then,” Welch said to Ralph, “the governor’s got a problem, doesn’t he?”

  “Yep. He sure does,” Ralph replied.

  Welch told Ralph he considered it his duty to warn John Y. to distance himself from Jimmy Lambert.

  Ralph disagreed with Welch’s assessment that he should inform the governor about such a delicate probe, assuming that Brown would tip off Lambert and the investigation would be blown. But as it turned out, Welch’s warning didn’t change anything. Brown adopted the attitude that Lambert had been a friend for many years, and he was not about to discontinue his friendship with Lambert just because Lambert might be suspected of some kind of wrongdoing. When Brown continued associating with Lambert despite the admonition, Ralph, and apparently Welch, decided anything was fair game.

  Ralph also made the tactical decision that the lion’s share of his investigators’ attention should be focused upon Henry Vance. Betty had told him that Vance was a main figure in the Florida murder conspiracy, but for some baffling reason, Florida authorities seemed uninterested in pursuing Henry Vance, despite the existence of an abundance of evidence against him. Even though Florida didn’t want him, Ralph did. The fact that Vance was so active as a political figurehead in Kentucky worried Ralph. As a lobbyist, Vance had gone to great lengths to defeat Welch’s proposed anti-crime and racketeering legislation, which would have made it much more difficult for organized crime to operate in Kentucky.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  On the morning of May 18, 1982, Ralph parked his unmarked state police car behind the federal building and entered through the rear door. He took the elevator to the third floor and walked down the long corridor to the United States attorney’s office. The receptionist greeted him and gestured toward an open door. “Mr. Trevey’s waiting for you,” she said.

  Ralph entered the office, exchanging pleasantries with assistant

  Attorney Robert Trevey. Trevey handed Ralph the court order he had drawn up. Ralph read it, thanked him, and walked down to the

  magistrate’s office.

  Without hesitation, Magistrate James Cook signed the document ordering the installation of a pen register on the telephone line of Henry Vance.

  Ralph walked outside into the bright midday sun and headed on foot toward the phone company located a few blocks away. Serving the court order on an official of the company, Ralph instructed him to have a technician run Henry Vance’s phone line into Ralph’s apartment. Ralph then drove home to get his equipment ready.

  The state police had purchased two pen registers under the direction of Neil Welch, and this was not the first time they had been used. Ralph retrieved one of the registers—which looked like a stereo receiver—from the trunk of his car, along with a telephone handset and a bundle of brightly colored wires. He had decided to install the device in his apartment for security reasons. He knew there had been a leak from his team, and if the pen register were installed in the state police office, chances were good that Henry Vance would learn of its existence immediately.

  Ralph hooked the register up to his phone jack. From that moment forward, the starting and stopping time for every call made from Henry Vance’s telephone line would be recorded, as well as the number called. The device would also denote the time and date of all incoming calls, but not the origination of the call.

  Although the content of the phone conversations could be heard through the handset, to listen to the conversations fell outside the legal scope of the court order. Ralph had no authorization to wiretap Henry Vance, but merely to determine the identity of individuals with whom Vance was in contact.

  Ralph used the handset to test the equipment. The sound of voices assured him the machinery was operational. He gave a key to his apartment to Terry Barnes and told Barnes to check on the equipment twice a day for the next few days while Ralph went out of town. Despite reservations he had about Barnes’s competence, Ralph selected Barnes since he was the highest-ranking officer on Ralph’s team and it was a matter of investigative delicacy. The state police were responsible for the equipment in Ralph’s apartment, and the phone company was responsible for the rest of the lines. It was therefore imperative that the pen register be checked regularly to ensure nothing went haywire that would alert Vance to interference on his phone line. Ralph explained the equipment to Barnes and told him that if there were any problems he should call the FBI’s sound man. Ralph had previously made arrangements with the FBI to be available to help Barnes if necessary.

  The next day, Ralph, Don Powers, and Betty Gee boarded a Delta jet bound for Fort Myers, Florida, to meet with Betty’s incarcerated sister, Bonnie Kelly. They all hoped that Betty could persuade Bonnie to talk. But Bonnie refused to meet with Ralph and Don, and after two days of tearful episodes between the women, during which Bonnie accused Betty of betraying her, Ralph decided the attempt was futile.

  The three were back in Lexington by Friday, May 21.

  The minute he walked through the door, Ralph knew that someone had ransacked his apartment. His daughter Christie was living with him at the time, but Ralph had made sure she didn’t stay in the apartment alone while he was in Florida. Someone had obviously gone through all of the drawers and closets in both Ralph’s and Christie’s bedrooms. Their letters and personal effects had been rifled. The first thing Ralph checked was the pen register, which seemed to have been untouched. He then checked his grocery sack full of micro-cassette tapes—recordings that he had made throughout years of undercover investigations. They didn’t appear to have been touched. Ralph made a mental inventory and felt certain that nothing was missing.

  He assumed that some of Vance’s boys were the culprits. Or possibly the Lexington police, trying to find out what he was up to. By this point in time, Ralph felt as if everyone was following him: Members of Drew Thornton’s group, the Lexington police, and some of Butch Campbell’s boys in the state police who wanted to keep tabs on Welch’s God Squad. Ralph didn’t really give a damn. They could follow him all they wanted, as far as he was concerned. But breaking into his apartment was overstepping the invisible boundaries. Ralph was-n’t worried about his own safety, but he didn’t like subjecting Christie to danger. He had a shotgun, a magnum, a .38, and a .22, so he felt as if he was in pretty good shape, but the thought of someone boldly entering his apartment angered him.

  On Saturday, Ralph left early in the morning to pick up Betty Gee. He had earlier arranged to drive her to Mike Kelly’s mother’s house because Mrs. Kelly had asked Betty to retrieve all of Bonnie’s belongings. With Mike and Bonnie both in jail, Mrs. Kelly apparently didn’t want the responsibility of storing their possessions. The c
ontents of the cartons included credit-card receipts, equipment for processing cocaine, and an ATF evidence bag full of gun silencers. Betty turned everything over to Ralph as soon as they left the residence.

  The next day Ralph attended a family function in Boyle County. He had placed Scotch tape, sticky side up, on the carpet—staggering the tape throughout the hallways and bedrooms of the apartment so he could tell if anyone entered in his absence. When he returned home late Sunday night, he discerned that someone had stepped on the tape in several locations. Still, nothing had been stolen and the pen register remained intact.

  Ralph arose early Monday morning, read the local newspaper, and gulped down a cup of coffee. He dressed in gabardine slacks, an oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled three-quarters length and turned inside, and a pair of polished brown ankle boots.

  First he drove by the surveillance team’s headquarters—an apartment in the area rented by the state police. The team on duty briefed him on the weekend activities of Henry Vance, Drew Thornton, and Bill Canan. Ralph told them he was en route to a house near Mount Tabor Road that he was considering renting for a new surveillance post. He felt it was time to establish a different headquarters since the investigation was percolating rapidly. The new location was more centrally situated between the Kelly, Vance, Thornton, Canan, and Lambert residences. Ralph purposely neglected to mention the break-in of his apartment, but reiterated his concerns about security. He didn’t suspect anyone on his team of intentional leaks, instead blaming any breaches on sloppiness. The worst threat to an undercover investigation of this magnitude, Ralph knew from experience, was a loose mouth over off-duty cocktails. Ralph ordered everyone to tighten up. He asked Barnes to return his house key, but Barnes claimed he had forgotten to bring it to work. Strange answer, Ralph thought.

  Fleetingly, Ralph contemplated questioning Barnes about the bizarre entries to his apartment. He eyed Barnes with distrust for a few seconds, as if about to speak, then decided to wait.

  “Go get the key,” Ralph told him. “I’ll be back for it this afternoon.”

  After looking over the new surveillance post, Ralph headed his car southwest toward Harrodsburg. He was scheduled to rendezvous with Betty at a remote country hideaway in order to return Bonnie’s charge-card receipts and drug paraphernalia. Ralph should have realized that he was being followed. But he had trained his men so efficiently that even he was unable to detect their presence. He spent several hours with Betty sifting through Bonnie’s financial records, then drove twenty-five miles north to Frankfort, where he had a stack of paperwork to sort through, and phone calls to return. He had been away from the office for nearly a week, so he was behind in fulfilling the more bureaucratic duties of his job.

  When Ralph returned to Lexington that evening, his daughter Christie was waiting for him. They had been expected an hour earlier at his sister Thelma’s house for dinner. Since he was running late, Ralph didn’t take the time to stop by the surveillance post to retrieve his key from Sergeant Terry Barnes. Instead, he went to dinner and returned home in time to watch the eleven o’clock news. Just as it ended, Ralph fell into bed with exhaustion.

  Ralph reached for the phone before it had finished its first ring. He had been sleeping fitfully anyway, half-expecting something to happen.

  The digital clock glowed in the darkness of his bedroom, its bright red numerals calling out: 3 a.m.

  “I need some help.”

  Ralph recognized the voice as that of one of his men—Terry Barnes. Why in the hell was Barnes calling at this hour?

  “I’m all by myself and I need some help.”

  “Why don’t you call some of the guys on your surveillance team,” Ralph responded, assuming there were still a few men on duty.

  “They’ve all gone home for the night,” Barnes answered.

  “Why haven’t you gone home too?”

  “I let ‘em all go, and I was just fixin’ to leave,” Barnes said. “I’m out here at the Lansdowne Shopping Center and Drew Thornton and Bill Canan and the whole gang are up here and they have me surrounded. I’m in trouble and I need your help,” Barnes pleaded with his boss.

  Still struggling to awaken, Ralph couldn’t comprehend what Barnes was saying. None of it made any sense to Ralph: Barnes shouldn’t have been alone at the shopping center across the street from Henry Vance’s townhouse in the middle of the night. What in the hell was going on? Ralph had made little secret of his distrust of Barnes. Barnes’s refusal to return Ralph’s key the day before combined with the intrusion on his apartment had prompted Ralph to question Barnes’s credibility even more. Something didn’t ring true with this cockamamie story. But regardless of his distaste for Barnes, Ralph couldn’t turn his back on any of his men.

  “All right,” Ralph answered. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  Swinging his long legs out one side of the king-sized bed, Ralph reached to turn on the bedside lamp. He went to the closet and grabbed a pair of Levis, throwing them and a shirt on as fast as he could. He placed his .357 magnum in his briefcase, and slid his .38 into a sheath on his leg.

  He bailed out of the front door of his apartment, leaping down the concrete steps toward his parked car. Fumbling for the key to his car, he heard a noise across the parking lot.

  “Just as I was fixing to unlock my car door I see two heads pop up from behind a car at the other end of the parking lot. As I looked up, one starts toward me and the other heads in another direction. I did-n’t recognize either of them and…well…at this point I’m kind of expecting to get it. I’m still thinking it’s Thornton’s bunch. So I dropped between the two cars where I could see through the windows. I reached into my briefcase and was trying to get hold of my magnum and at the same time was trying to determine what they were going to do. What I didn’t know was they were behind me and all around through the parking lot. They were going to kill me is what they were going to do.

  “Then I hear: ‘Hey, Ross. This is Larry. You’re under arrest. Don’t shoot.’ And I recognize the voice of Larry Fentress—the state police attorney. Then I didn’t know what was going on. They started coming out from all over the place. They were behind me. On the sides. On the front. Five of them, all state police. I had known them all for years and years.

  “When I think back on it I know what they were planning. They knew I’d come out of the apartment carrying a gun—especially with the story they gave me about one of my guys being in trouble. They knew I’d be responding to one of my troopers in serious danger, in a life-threatening situation, and that I’d be mentally psyched up for a confrontation. And I know that if I had ever pulled that magnum out of that case they’d have blown me into a million pieces. That’s what they were posed for.

  “I didn’t know what it was all about. But I just couldn’t get over the way they had done it. I kept asking them: ‘What’s wrong with you guys? Why did you want to do that?’ I knew what they were doing. You don’t effect an arrest in that manner unless your sole purpose is to try to get the guy to come out armed so you can blow him away and claim self-defense. You know, say the guy fired on a policeman. You just don’t do that to someone—especially a fellow police officer— unless you’re prepared to kill him.

  “They could have walked up to my door and knocked on it. They had a key that I had given to Terry Barnes—they could have come up and unlocked the door. They could have called me on the phone. They could have come there in the daytime. They could have done it while I was at work. They didn’t have to call me out in the middle of the night, ready for battle.

  “It makes you really wonder why they want you that bad. It’s hard to believe that an organization that you’ve been a part of, devoted your life to, for twenty-six years would do you that way. Very hard to swallow.”

  Ralph accompanied the arresting officers back into his apartment. He wasn’t handcuffed, and was allowed to sit on th
e sofa as the troopers executed what Ralph considered a limited search. He watched his colleagues go to the back bedroom and unhook the pen register. Then they went into a utility closet and took a suitcase Ralph kept that contained various tools: Handsets, screwdrivers, pliers, side cutters, volt meters, telephone wires. They took a Sony dictating machine, a tape recorder, and four tapes that didn’t look familiar to Ralph. “They never really searched the apartment. They knew exactly what they were looking for and they didn’t want anything else. For example, they left the whole grocery bag full of micro-cassettes,” he recalled. From the trunk of Ralph’s car the state police seized a brown briefcase containing two telephone receivers and an assortment of electrical devices.

  Ralph was careful not to make any statements. He still didn’t know what he was being charged with, and decided he’d better keep his mouth shut. Installing him in the back seat of a police vehicle, they drove him downtown to be booked into the county jail. But when the court officials called a judge by telephone, the judge ordered them to take Ralph back home.

  Several hours later, at 9 a.m., Ralph drove himself to the courthouse to be arraigned.

  “I still didn’t know what the charge was. When I appeared before the judge he was looking at a legal pad. After he read what was on it he said: ‘I see here they searched your premises and that there was no wiretapping equipment hooked up. Is that correct?’ I answered that was correct. Then the judge said there shouldn’t be any problem and he turned me loose on my own recognizance. He said something about waiting to see what the grand jury decided.”