Savage Grace - Natalie Robins
Page 46
John Murray
Sometimes Tony would try to offer the guards money but they wouldn’t take it. I don’t know what they said to him because they’d tell everyone to scram first.
Brooks Baekeland
Tony wrote me letters describing the vice, violence, and corruption in that prison. His homosexual seductiveness even involved the guards, and promises of money in large amounts to everyone who might satisfy his humors or desires—that was all in those letters.
Letter from Dr. Thomas Maguire to Cecelia Brebner, January 13, 1981
Broadmoor
Dear Mrs. Brebner:
Thank you very much for your recent letter about Tony; you appear to be the only person who is aware of the facts—certainly the only one who has kept me up-to-date with recent developments. In fact, I had been given to understand that Mrs. Daly had died as a result of her injuries and that Tony was to be brought to trial for murder!
I am very pleased to learn that she is still alive and able to contemplate visiting Tony. It is indeed worrying that she feels unable to press charges against him as this would be for his (and others’) benefit in the long run. However, knowing her great affection for Tony, her attitude is understandable.
May I offer you belated Happy New Year wishes.
Again my best thanks.
Yours sincerely,
Thomas Maguire
Consultant Forensic Psychiatrist
Letter from Antony Baekeland to Nina Daly, January 14, 1981
Rikers Island
Dear Nini,
I am waiting to hear whether I shall be given bail. I do not really think it would be just for me to be locked up either on grounds of insanity or criminality, as what happened was (a) not an act of insanity, but a complex of emotionally motivated acts and (b) not criminal, because I had nothing to gain in any worldly way from knifing you, and in fact everything to lose, and was only trying to put you out of your misery. It is very hard for me to talk to you on the phone because whenever the important things come up we are mutually put off. I am hoping for a way in which we can solve this problem. Realize that part of me has suffered with you ever since you broke your hip, even blaming myself for your trouble and discomfort.
My Great Problem is Money. I can’t seem to talk about it with anyone without getting upset and nervous. I do not consider that the attempt to take my hand from my own affairs has any valid reason, as I am now regaining my perspective.
At the time I came here I had eighty-three thousand dollars in “Free” money—that is, money which I can spend to my liking.
John Murray is and has been very helpful. (My Friend who spoke to you on the phone.) He wants to get the money I gave away back for you.
I shall call you Friday or Saturday evening. May God bless you and give you Peace and New Health.
Love,
Love, Tony
Cecelia Brebner
I took Nini to Rikers Island to see him and they would not allow us to cross the bridge—they said that an old lady in a wheelchair was not possible. So back we came. And the moment we got home, the telephone rang. It was Tony, and he started to scream at Nini—something about money. She said to me, “Will you speak to him, Celia?” I said, “Tony, just stop this nonsense of giving your money away.” And he said, “Get off the phone! I don’t want to talk to you.” And all those loving letters I’d had from him! “I want to talk to my grandmother,” he said. “Put her back on!”
4
JANUARY 15–MARCH 19, 1981
John Murray
I was like a conscience to Tony. I would tell him, “You gotta get on top of it. You gotta take back all that money you lent out and you gotta leave yourself some. You just can’t give it all away because people keep asking you to until it nearly kills you.”
I promised to try to get his money back with my influence in the receiving room. I had access to prisoner inmate cards—where people are, where they’re going on the outside—and I was going to use a list that his lawyer had sent him with the amounts that people owed him.
Tony and I made real plans to go on a trip around the world together. We were going to go to Thailand first—go see the monks and all that. You can stay warm there, and then you can go in the mountains and cool off if you want. Tony told me he had been there. And then we were maybe thinking about going to Indonesia, and Turkey, and England, you know, and we were talking about going to, maybe, Russia or something like that. Tony thought he’d be getting out soon. I assured him that he would if he told the judge that the devious thoughts in his mind had left and that he’d seen the error of his judgment, you know?
J. Victor Benson
Tony did plan a trip around the world. Possibly it was with John Murray, but possibly it was with one of those listed on his visitors’ sheet.
John Rakis
Inmates are allowed three visits of one hour each a week. We have thousands of visitors. The average number per month for our entire system was twenty-eight thousand for the fiscal year 1983. So we can’t thoroughly check the credentials of each visitor.
J. Victor Benson
The essential requirements are that they have to be a relative or a close friend of the inmate’s. They have to show an affidavit of one sort or another—birth certificate, marriage license, and so on. Visitors are searched as they come in, but there’s not much checking on whether they are or are not, let’s say, an inmate’s cousin—first, second, third, or shirttail.
Approved Visitors Form, Rikers Island
Name: Baekeland, Antony, 349-80-4228
APPROVED VISITORS
Name: Anastase, Joanne
Address: Brooklyn, New York
Relationship to Inmate: Friend
Name: Firenzi, Vince
Address: Flushing, New York
Relationship to Inmate: Cousin
John Murray
I think Vince Firenzi was in for holding a gun to his mother’s head. He was a short fellow, not really one of the dangerous ones, but sort of. He was in another quad and he was running a con game on Tony. He came back because he probably wanted more money. He’d hustle Tony, give him a little kiss on the cheek or something like that and say, “I need more money.”
Joanne Anastase was a skinny, pathetic-looking guy who used to be at Rikers. He dressed in women’s clothes and I think he had an operation. He sort of looks like a woman and he sort of looks like a man—sort of in between. He probably came back and said to Tony, “I need money for my boyfriend,” or “I need money for clothes to go to the disco,” or “I need money for drugs.” You know—if it’s not one thing, it’s the other. And Tony gave him what he wanted, he was afraid to say no because he was afraid that Joanne might send somebody to go after him. But then he stopped giving money to Joanne. He said, “I’m going to stop giving money away.” But then he wrote someone else a check for fifteen hundred dollars, and he wrote someone else one for, I’m not sure, I think it was two thousand. And he wrote me out a check for two thousand also. We had talked about me maybe borrowing a hundred dollars or something like that to get started when I got out. I gave the check to Mr. Benson to put in my account but I had a feeling I was never going to get that two thousand.
J. Victor Benson
Murray wanted me to take the check to the cashier, and I did take it personally to the cashier, mostly because I was interested in getting a check like that off the quad. They gave me a receipt and I presented it to Murray. But nobody would credit his commissary account with the check—and even the captain at the desk refused to handle it because it was so large. They thought there was something strange about it.
John Rakis
The check was returned uncashed by the prison officials to Tony Baekeland’s bank.
John Murray
My check from Tony fell through, and the parole for me fell through also. It just did, it just did, and I left Rikers on February 13th for Auburn State Prison upstate.
Juan Martinez
After John Murray left,
I was trying to manage Tony’s affairs for him but he didn’t give me no time. I told him, “Wait up, man, give me some time, you know, and I’ll find out some way that you can get out.” See, I was going to the legal library every day for my own case.
J. Victor Benson
Juan was pretty much of a jailhouse lawyer. He was no dummy. He became knowledgeable about all procedures and all precedent cases. He was in for murder but was pleading insanity.
Note from File on Juan Martinez
Date of birth 2/27/54; 1978 arrested 75th Pct.; previous charge, grand larceny; accused of murdering young boy, victim’s head had been cut off, sodomy, drugs found around body, Juan found in victim’s car with bloodstains on clothes. “Watch yourself, this is the car of the guy I killed,” he may or may not have said.
J. Victor Benson
Juan had one of those special relationships with Baekeland, too.
Juan Martinez
We were together in court in February and I told him, “Give me some more time,” you know?
From the Transcript, The People of the State of New York Against Antony Baekeland, Defendant, Supreme Court of the State of New York, County of New York, February 19, 1981
The Defendant: May I ask you something? I understand my grandmother has dropped her charge.
The Court: She is not dropping the charge. It’s not up to a witness to drop charges or not drop charges.
The Defendant: She wasn’t the witness. She was the victim.
The Court: It’s not up to a victim. It’s up to the prosecutor of the State of New York.
The Defendant: Oh! I see.
The Court: March 5th.
From the Transcript, The People of the State of New York Against Antony Baekeland, Defendant, Supreme Court of the State of New York, County of New York, March 5, 1981
The Court: How about the medical records, counsel?
Counsel for the Defendant: We spoke to England this morning and they put it in the mail this afternoon.
The Court: That’s the same information for the last three adjournments.
Counsel for the Defendant: Okay. And the other medical report is on its way.
The Court: The 20th of March.
Counsel for the Defendant: I would like an application at this time due to the fact that the defendant has been held without bail. It’s apparent that the complainant is—does not want to pursue this case. I wonder if bail could be set?
The Court: No, counsel. Remand continued. March 20th all right? (No response)
The Court: March 20th.
5
MARCH 20, 1981: 12:00 A.M.–4:39 P.M.
Breakfast Menu, Rikers Island, March 20, 1981
Bread and margarine
Stewed figs
Rice Krispies
Reconstituted milk
Coffee and tea
From the Transcript, The People of the State of New York Against Antony Baekeland, Defendant, Supreme Court of the State of New York, County of New York, March 20, 1981
The Court Clerk: Number 15, Antony Baekeland.
(Whereupon, both counsel—Sarah Hines, Esq., Assistant District Attorney [For the People] and Ronald M. Arrick, Esq. [For the Defendant]—approach the bench for an off-the-record discussion.)
The Court: April 16th for Trial.
Counsel for the Defendant: Your Honor, if I may be heard? Mr. Baekeland’s grandmother is in Court. She is eighty-eight years old. She is confined to a wheelchair. She has attempted to go to Rikers Island to visit the prisoner but has been advised that they have no facility for wheelchairs. She asked me to make an application to the Court for an in-Court visit with her grandson.
The Court: Because she is the complaining witness in the case, because there have been statements made by you and your firm that she does not wish to proceed with the charges, because of the severity of the case and all the other special circumstances, I’m not going to permit a Courtroom visit in this case. April 16th for Trial.
Assistant District Attorney: Judge, would you make a ruling on the Grand Jury Minutes?
The Court: I have reviewed the Grand Jury Minutes and find them sufficient to warrant the indictment.
Assistant District Attorney: I have received certain medical records from the defense, from England. I’ve not received the complete medical records as I expected.
The Court: April 16th.
Cecelia Brebner
Nini had asked me if I would go with her to court and I went. Tony looked dreadful. When I had brought him back from London he had his Savile Row suit on and he looked very elegant, and now he was in rags, his hair tied back. He looked across the courtroom and said to Nini, “I love you, I love you, I’m sorry.”
Ronald Arrick
I know his mood in court that morning and it was fairly good. He talked to his grandmother—they both mouthed across the courtroom. As he was being taken out the door, he saw Grandma, she was sitting down near the back with her nurse or someone, and he went “I love you.” I had had a bench conference with the judge to see if he would grant Tony and Grandma a courtroom visit. I didn’t want them in a room alone together. What I wanted was for Tony to sit on one side of the rail, with guards, and Grandma on the other side—not within reaching distance of each other but three to five feet away where they could still talk to each other in a fairly low voice so as not to disrupt the court. Or even at a recess. But the lady D.A. was adamant against it. She didn’t want Tony having any contact with Grandma. One of the main reasons, I can only presume at, would be that it might influence her getting the verdict—the more contact they had, the less chance of Grandma testifying against Tony.
I don’t see how his sitting there handcuffed in a chair—or handcuffed to the chair, let’s say, if they wanted to go that far—five feet away from somebody, surrounded by, let’s say, two court officers—would have been endangering the old lady’s life. If it had been, I wouldn’t have asked for it.
When Tony was refused the visit, he accepted it, he accepted it fine. I don’t build up anybody’s hopes. There are no guarantees.
Judge Robert M. Haft
For humanitarian reasons I would allow a courtroom visit—a woman has to see her child or a man has to see his new baby, or somebody’s pregnant, or some case like that. But in Tony Baekeland’s case I just didn’t see that it warranted it. To see the complaining witness would not be proper.
From a Draft Document, Board of Correction, City of New York
Baekeland returned from court with a white plastic bag with red and blue lettering on it. He arrived back at quadrant 3 Lower at approximately 3:30 p.m. and requested to be locked in his cell.
John Rakis
He could have gone in the hallway or in the dayroom—inmates are entitled to be locked out for fourteen hours during the day. They’re also entitled to lock themselves into their cells when they want to be. It’s optional. Some people want to be in their cells and read or write, or they want to lie down, or they just don’t want to be bothered by anybody else.
From a Draft Document, Board of Correction, City of New York
Inmate John Lewis #346-80-2360 was the area suicide prevention aide on the 3 p.m. to 11 p.m. shift.
John Rakis
Suicide prevention aides are an extra pair of eyes and ears for the officer, who may be busy entering something in the logbook or supervising food distribution or doing something to that effect. The aides get paid anywhere from thirty-five to fifty cents an hour—which is the highest rate of pay for inmate help. We test them to make sure they know what they’re doing, we give certificates for the training, and we do periodic inspections and evaluations of their work.
From a Draft Document, Board of Correction, City of New York
Inmate Lewis said that he spoke with Baekeland when he returned from court. Baekeland reportedly said that things had not gone well in court because he had hoped to be granted bail and that there had also been some talk he would be sent to a civil hospital, but instead he was remanded
back to the Department.
John Rakis
Tony had told several inmates that he expected to be bailed out. It was poor judgment on his part to expect bail.
From a Draft Document, Board of Correction, City of New York
Correction Officer Patrick Raftery #2851 stated that he was assigned as the Lower 3 “B” Post Officer on the 3:27 p.m. to 11:58 p.m. tour. He arrived on his post at approximately 3:50 p.m. at which time he made a count. The Officer states that inmate Baekeland was sitting up on his bed at this time.
Again at 4:30 p.m., C.O. Raftery made his rounds. He reported that everything appeared normal. Baekeland was lying on his bed covered with a blanket: both feet and one hand were exposed. At 4:39 p.m., Nurse Mauretta Link entered the quadrant to dispense medication. She was accompanied on her rounds in the area by C.O. Raftery. After dispensing medication to two inmates, Nurse Link with C.O. Raftery approached Baekeland’s cell.
6
MARCH 20, 1981: 4:40 P.M.–11:59 P.M.
From a Draft Document, Board of Correction, City of New York
Baekeland did not respond to his name. C.O. Raftery rapped on the cell door, then opened the door and tapped his keys on the bed-frame, then rubbed Baekeland’s foot with the keys. When Baekeland still did not respond, C.O. Raftery pulled the blanket off the inmate and discovered that he had a red and white plastic bag over his head.