by Fred Rosen
“Absolutely, Mary, why should you?” Michaud drawled.
For a moment, the two looked at each other. It was cat and mouse now. Neither was going to give ground. And it was personal, between them.
After Mary left, Michaud called his bosses and told them that Mary had rejected the deal. The case was still active. Michaud also knew something else of particular relevance.
Mary was sure that no matter what Michaud did, he wouldn’t catch her. That, he realized, made her vulnerable. Mary liked to brag to the media. Might she not do the same in the privacy of her home?
To get her, he needed somebody inside her home. An undercover operative was out of the question. What was he supposed to do, get Johnny Depp? “21 Jump Street” was a TV show; in reality, few cops could pose as minors and get away with it. Besides, Mary kept a pretty close circle of kids around her. Anyone new would surely raise suspicions.
That left only one avenue of investigation that would let them eavesdrop on what was going on inside the house. They needed to monitor Mary’s conversations with the gang members. If his theory of the crime was right, it should yield the true reason for Aaron’s death.
IN THE CIRCUIT COURT OF THE STATE OF OREGON FOR LANE COUNTY
IN THE MATTER OF AN APPLICATION FOR
)
AN EX PARTE ORDER AUTHORIZING
)
INTERCEPTION OF WIRE AND/OR CELLULAR
)
COMMUNICATION OF MARY LOUISE THOMPSON
)
AFFIDAVIT
STATE OF OREGON
)
)ss
County of Lane
)
I. James Michaud, being duly sworn on oath, hereby depose and say:
I am a police officer with the Eugene Police Department and have been so employed for the past 18 years. I am currently assigned as a detective in the Violent Crimes Detail in the Investigative Unit. I have received extensive formal training in homicide investigations and my experience is based on the investigation of hundreds of cases involving violent crimes against persons including homicide.
This affidavit is submitted in support of an application by Lane County District Attorney, F. Douglas Harcieroad, for an order authorizing the interception of telephonic communications by Mary Louise Thompson occurring at 442 Waite Street, Eugene, Lane 2C County Oregon, over hard-wired telephone number (503) 555-6023 and any and all conversations by Mary Louise Thompson on cellular telephone number (503) 555-1505. I have been assigned as the case agent investigating the criminal homicide of Aaron Benjamin Iturra. As a result of my personal participation in this investigation, through interviews with witnesses and by analysis of reports submitted by other officers of the Eugene Police Department and discussions with the Lane County Medical Examiner, Dr. Samuel Vickers, I am familiar with all aspects of this investigation.
Affidavit of Detective James Michaud
Wiretaps have gotten a bum reputation ever since 1972 when Nixon bugged Democratic National Headquarters. In subsequent criminal investigations, local and federal officials violated people’s civil rights in the indiscriminate use of bugging.
But starting with the 1980s, tapping a suspected criminal’s phone became the latest high-tech tool in law enforcement to yield results. For instance, the federal government was able to bug John Gotti’s headquarters, so successfully, in fact, that the evidence gathered from the bug led to Gotti’s eventual conviction.
In the state of Oregon, an officer can only get a bug or tap by showing the judge conclusively, in the form of an affidavit, that all reasonable investigative avenues have been exhausted, and that the only way to gather evidence against a suspected felon, Mary Thompson in this case, was to eavesdrop on her phone conversations.
The judge saw things Michaud’s way and granted the order.
In the old days, a police officer would actually have to steal his way into the suspect’s home when he was away and physically plant a listening device inside the phone. Today, because of advances in telephonic technology, police can establish their tap right from the source—the phone company.
Michaud walked over and showed them his court order granting permission to tap Mary’s line. The phone company was extremely cooperative in throwing the switches that would allow police to listen in on the phone conversations to and from Mary Thompson’s house without being detected.
With the wiring in place, the next step was establishing where the bug would be manned, and who would man it. Violent Crimes had had enough experience with tapping on previous cases to know that setting up a listening post at police headquarters would not work. It was too cramped as it was, and the last thing Michaud wanted was some stupid rookie to mess things up by throwing the wrong switch. No, better to work off-premises.
A secret listening post was established in an office building in downtown Eugene. An office was rented for the month—it was not anticipated the tap would go further—chairs were brought in, Marantz tape recorders, phones and head phones were set up on plain wooden tables. The phone company electronically tied Mary’s phone in with the one at the listening post. When hers rang, the listening post’s did too and the DNR did the rest.
DNR stands for “Dial Number Recorder.” It is a unit that automatically monitors all incoming and outgoing calls, carefully recording the date and time of the call, as well as the internal catalogue number. Like the retail “Caller ID” available to consumers, the DNR registers the name of the incoming caller and the number they’re calling from. But the human factor, the people manning the phones, are just as important, if not more so.
The government will not let any police department monitor all calls. They have to be relevant to the case, as set out in the affidavit. Therefore, any court order to wiretap comes with minimization instructions, which require the officer manning the tap not to listen in during certain types of calls. Generally, calls involving husband and wife, spiritual counselors and lawyers are minimized and that was the case with the Thompson wiretap.
Assistant D.A. Steve Skelton initiated discussions with Michaud and the administration people from the Eugene Police Department about when the wire could be broken. Since it was an aggravated murder investigation, maintaining the wiretap would be given as high a priority as possible.
A consensus was reached that the wiretaps would not be broken to foil a crime against property, for instance grand theft auto. They might attempt to thwart such a crime, but they wouldn’t shut down the wiretap for the purpose of going out and stopping a crime against property.
The wire would only be burned [compromised] where there was a chance the gang would physically hurt someone. They would take the chance that Mary Thompson would not realize that the police’s principal source of information would be a phone tap.
With the wire’s protocol set, and the wiring itself in place, it was time to begin. Manning the headphones were Michaud and Rainey. Ric Raynor, though, was conspicuously absent. He had been taken off the case, which made him feel slighted and, at least to one reporter who interviewed him, bitter. But the case was bigger than any one cop’s feelings. Murder always is.
ELEVEN
At 11:17 p.m. on Friday, January 13, 1995, the DNR turned on. Michaud was on duty and he picked up the earphones. It was a call from Lisa Fentress for Beau Flynn.
“Hello?” Beau answered.
“Hi,” said Lisa.
“This is his night.”
“Yep.”
“He came down to visit me, homes. He didn’t bring his real car. He stole one.”
“Did you say he’s driving a stolen car?”
“Ha ha, yeah. But he changed the plates and the VIN number so if he got pulled over they couldn’t say nothing to him.”
As the conversation proceeded it became clear that “he” was a business associate of Beau’s from Portland who trafficked in stolen cars. It was clear that Beau had an intimate knowledge of the business.
“I gotta page my home boy and see what’s going on,” Beau continued.
“All right.”
“’Cause I think he already has a hotel. I think he might be talking to Nina.”
“Nina Jones?”
“No! That bitch got my dope, man! She gave me the fake shit, homes! She gave me fake stuff, you know that? She switched it! I’m gonna kill that girl!”
“How do you know it was fake?”
“I f—ing tested it tonight. She gave me a fat rock of the real stuff, but the rest of it, we were bouncing it off the damn floor!”
Well, that’s one drug deal Beau won’t make, Michaud thought.
Later in the day, at 2:01 p.m., Beau placed a call to gang member Tom Simmons.
“Hey, what’s up, homes?”
“What’s up?” Tom answered.
“So what’s up for tonight?”
“I don’t know. Let’s hook up,” Tom suggested.
“All right, homes, because I want to f—in’ steal that car. If we could take that out and strip it for a grip …”
“Yeah,” Tom agreed.
“’Cause there’s this chop shop dealer up in Portland.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah. We could drive them up there and sell their butt. Each one of ’em. And the guy don’t take f—ed up cars. He takes like Cadillacs and s—like that.”
“Yeah, I know.”
“And he’ll pay us like four hundred for each car.”
“Cool.”
“So we could drive like four cars up a night.”
“Ha ha ha!”
“And then after we steal ’em, we can park ’em and throw tarps on ’em.”
“Okay.”
Beau had apparently had such a tough day planning out his criminal activities that he had to take a nap. His next phone call wasn’t until 10:53 p.m.
“Hello?” his friend Sam Warthan began.
“What’s up?” Beau answered.
“Hey.”
“Yeah, she said that, uh, any time before one o’clock and then she knows where a house is too.”
They’re planning a burglary, Michaud thought.
“Okay. I just called you to say it would probably be longer ’cause my clothes ain’t done drying.”
“Yeah, but she has it. She’s ready.”
“Okay.”
“And then,” Beau continued, “we could drive her up there probably and out where that thing exactly is at.”
“Well, I got a house over here.”
“Oh, yeah, we got a couple there then?”
“Yeah.”
So it would be a few burglaries.
“All right. Cool then.”
“But I can’t do this one house.”
“Why?”
“Because I’ve already done it and the neighbors know me.”
Michaud chuckled and said to Rainey, “At least he’s got some common sense.”
“What’s that mean?” Beau asked.
“On the other hand, Beau does tend to be a bit dense,” Michaud added as Sam explained, “They know me. They know what I look like.”
“Oh. So you want to do something else then?”
“No, I would, you all could do it.”
“Well, damn.”
“There’s four guaranteed straps in there.”
The cops stiffened.
“Huh?”
“There’s four guaranteed straps in there,” Sam repeated.
Both Michaud and Rainey knew that straps was gang slang for guns.
“Well, I don’t understand. Where’s Tom at?”
“He’s in the shower.”
“All right. Is Tom gonna do it with me?”
“Probably.”
“All right. That’d be cool then. I ain’t gonna do it by myself necessarily.”
“Well, I’ll probably even go in.”
“Neh neh neh, yeah, but we’ll have a strap, we’ll be strapped for now. You know. Strapped. I’ll go pick up some bullets today, later on.”
“Which one you getting? That twenty-two?”
“Yeah.”
“A revolver?”
“Yep. They still bust cars, though. You know?”
“Yeah. Where’s your f—in’ nine at?”
“Dude, that’s a forty-five,” Beau corrected. “I can’t find it. Ha ha. I left it at the broad’s house, man. But no, I think I know where it’s at. ’Cause I can’t go over there ’cause she’s on vacation with her parents.”
“Let’s just go rob her house,” Sam answered.
“Yeah, right. I can’t do that, homes. That ain’t cool like that. The girl don’t even know it’s there, though.”
“Oh.”
“I haven’t seen it.”
“Oh, well, it’s like that except it’s a forty-five. Same color and everything.”
“F—.”
“Little bit smaller. Once we have this twenty-two, Bam! Bam! Bam! man, you know?”
“Yeah.”
“I bet you we can pop off some of the broads over there.”
“Yeah, homes. Hey, don’t you have blue bandannas over there somewhere?” Beau asked.
“Nope.”
“F—. I got it, just one here. You want to wear that today?”
“I got my beanie. I always wear my beanie.”
“I got my black bandanna on.”
“Can’t start no fights over there …”
“I know.”
“… because this f—ing truck’s gonna be hot soon.”
“We need to get a good chop shop.”
“I know one. In Portland.”
“Okay.”
“I’ll call him right now. Want me to?”
“Yeah.”
“All right.”
“Later.”
It was clear to the detectives that Beau Flynn and Sam Warthan were about to take possession of weapons that would be used in a series of burglaries and perhaps robberies as well. But where and when?
JANUARY 17, 1995
The wire was quiet until the next morning at 11:12 a.m. when Beau called his buddy Tom Simmons.
“Hello?” Tom answered.
“What’s up?” said Beau. “What’re you guys doing?”
“Just taking a shower.”
“Yeah, that bitch, she’s got it with her.”
The cops surmised it was the .22 in question. But who was “the bitch”?
“Yeah, we’re gonna hit some houses today,” Beau continued.
“Yeah.”
“And that way, we don’t get smoked if we get in there, you know?”
“Uh huh.”
“I’d rather smoke than be smoked.”
Smoked meant killed; Beau was saying he’d rather do the killing than be killed and the gun “the bitch” was going to give him would allow him to do just that.
“You know that girl Lisa?”
“Yeah?”
“That one I’m getting it from?”
“Yeah.”
The detectives barely heard the rest of the conversation. Now they knew the person giving Beau the revolver was named Lisa and it was a good bet it was Lisa Fentress, whom they knew to be part of the gang. Their hunch was confirmed a few minutes later at 11:39 a.m. when Fentress called Beau.
“Hey, I’m ready,” Beau said.
“So you’ll be here in like fifteen minutes?” Lisa asked.
“Well, more like twenty or thirty.”
“Okay.”
“Hey, homes, instead, bring ’em all over to the high school.”
“All right.”
“And then I’ll take ’em.”
Beau would be driving a stolen Chevy Suburban wagon. The meeting place was South Eugene High School.
“All right, okay,” Lisa said, and the conversation ended.
So that was the scam: Lisa Fentress was delivering the guns to Beau Flynn. The exchange would take place at South Eugene High School, which Lisa attended.
The wiretap was only four days old and already Michaud had evidence of a felony in the making. The de
cision now was whether to compromise the tap at this early stage and bust Flynn after receiving the guns but before he could take off with them, or follow him after he took possession and see what happened.
It was really no decision at all. Flynn would be arrested as soon as the guns changed hands. No reason to put innocent civilians at risk. And if Mary Thompson then figured out that her son was arrested because of the tap, so be it.
Michaud contacted the patrol officer whose beat was South Eugene High School. He told him to be on the lookout for a stolen Chevy Suburban that was coming to the front of the school, that Beau Flynn would probably be passing guns to a student name of Lisa Fentress. Michaud “suggested” that some patrol officers offer support in case of trouble and to assist in effecting an arrest.
Thirty minutes later, Michaud was still at the listening post while uniformed patrol officers staked out the grounds of South Eugene High School where the exchange would soon take place.
At 12:10, a Chevy Suburban wagon pulled into an open space in front of the school. Quickly, police ran the wagon’s plates. They came back stolen. A few minutes later, Lisa Fentress appeared. She walked slowly to the car, glancing nervously around, then got in on the passenger side.
“Close in,” the cop in charge radioed.
Beau Flynn, the bright, sad boy, who had grown into a thin, handsome, still-baby-faced young man. Had it been the 1930s, the time of the legendary gangsters whom Beau aspired to emulate, he could easily be known as “Baby Face” Flynn. And like his antecedents, Baby Face Nelson, Pretty Boy Floyd and John Dillinger, Beau Flynn got his kicks from robbing and stealing. The adrenaline rush, the real addiction to the criminal life, that came from the ever-present threat of the police chase.
“Beau Flynn, get out of the car and lie face down on the ground,” a police loudspeaker crackled.
Lisa quickly exited the car. After she did, Beau backed up, put the car into gear and floored the accelerator. It is doubtful that even Car and Driver had put the Suburban to the test that Beau did now.
Concerned that she might still have the weapons on her, and that she might bring them into the school with her, Lisa was immediately arrested. Upon searching her, police realized that the exchange had already taken place. Not only was Beau fleeing, he was armed and now considered dangerous.