06/22/2024
“Your Honor,” Servatius said as Judge Wanger came in. “There are many young children in the courtroom,” she gestured toward Jasmine, Nina, and the other kids behind us, “Perhaps you can ask the defendants’ families to take them out of the courtroom.”
“Mr. Capozzi, Mr. Forkner, will you ask your clients to direct their respective families to take any young children out of the courtroom?” Wanger asked.
Capozzi turned to me. “Yes, Luke, it’s probably a good idea.”
“No,” I said sharply. “What happens here will be in full light for everyone to see, especially the next generation.” I would not be moved.
Judge Wanger nodded and said, “Very well.” Then, he summoned the jury. They came through the side door and filed into their seats. I looked at each of them, and none would make eye contact. Were they ashamed, I thought to myself? I tried to assess their moods, but they just stared at the judge and shifted uneasily in their seats.
“I understand that the jury is ready to present their verdicts?” Judge Wanger asked. The jury foreman stood up confidently.
“Yes, your Honor, that’s correct.”
“Is it to all counts?” Judge Wanger inquired.
“No, your Honor,” the foreman admitted. “On one of the counts, we are still hopelessly deadlocked.” The judge nodded.
Let it be on count one, I thought to myself, the big organized crime charge. Hopefully they deadlocked on the continuing criminal enterprise. Please, God, it was obvious we weren’t a cartel or pair of drug lords.
“Please hand your verdict form to the court clerk,” the judge directed. The foreman handed a piece of paper to the clerk. “Will the defendants please rise?” Rich, Forkner, Capozzi, and I all rose from our chairs. “Go ahead and read the verdict aloud, Madam Clerk.”
“Yes, your Honor,” the court clerk turned and faced the rest of the courtroom.
“For the defendant Luke Scarmazzo, as to count one, conducting a continuing criminal enterprise, we, the jury, find the defendant. . . guilty.”
The word seemed to have sucked the air from the room, and my knees nearly buckled. It felt like I had been struck by a heavy hammer. The court clerk continued, but her words seemed distant. I could no longer hear anything clearly. GUILTY? How could that be? All the sounds in the room seemed muffled like I was listening underwater. Then I heard the gasps and cries from behind me. My poor mother, my daughter, DeVina, and everyone else. Their sobs sobered me. I straightened my back and clenched my jaw. I would be strong, if nothing else, for my family. I felt the eyes of the prosecutor, her dark, probing eyes appraising me. She wanted to witness my pain, wanted to see me capitulate under the weight of the verdict.
The court clerk read the rest of the verdict, deadlocked on count two, conspiracy to distribute ma*****na. That didn’t make sense? How could the jury not reach a verdict on a simple conspiracy to distribute ma*****na? We had admitted as much on the stand, yet they found us guilty of the more sophisticated and complex conspiracy? You needed the elements of the lesser conspiracy to make a guilty finding of the criminal enterprise charge. What did any of that matter, though? Damn, I thought, guilty of conducting a continuing criminal enterprise. That charge alone carried a mandatory minimum sentence of twenty years to life. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. We were a legal medical ma*****na dispensary. We were there to help people. Surely, this couldn’t be happening.
But it was happening.
The court clerk continued. “Count three, guilty. Count seven, guilty.” She paused to let the verdicts sink in. Her words hung in the air like the barrel smoke at a shooting range. Then she began anew. “For the defendant Ricardo Montes, as to count one, conducting a continuing criminal enterprise, we find the defendant—guilty.”
I heard fresh cries in the audience behind us. I dared not look back or risk losing my composure. The new cries undoubtedly came from Rich’s mom, cousins, aunts, and daughter. Rich briefly shook his head in disbelief, then just stared ahead at the judge.
The court clerk went on relentlessly. Count two—deadlocked. And guilty as to all other counts. When she finished reading the verdict forms, she sat back down. The six US marshals hastily crossed the courtroom and stood behind us.
The judge nodded to them. “You may take them away.”
Read the rest of the excerpt of High Price by Luke Scarmazzo:
Day four of jury deliberations began like all the others, but it didn’t take long for that to change. My phone rang as Jasmine and I were riding the elevator back to our room after breakfast. I glanced down and saw it wa...
