Crazy for You

by Michael Fleeman

  Retracing the testimony of the defense’s mental health professionals, Rubin said, “Hemy Neuman did not have the capacity to distinguish between right and wrong.” Those witnesses came to that conclusion based on analysis of the documents and interviews with Hemy and others. Hemy’s childhood trauma, his undiagnosed bipolar disorder with delusions, and his mounting personal problems all set the stage for disaster. To fail to see this, Rubin said, was to fail as a mental health professional.

  He then launched a broadside against the prosecution’s expert Dr. Crawford, tarring her as overpaid and underqualified and lumping her in with Andrea Sneiderman. “Two people got on that stand and lied to you in your face,” he said. “One got two million dollars, the other got sixty thousand.” Andrea Sneiderman and the life insurance policy and Dr. Crawford and her consulting fee—these were the twin villains in the case, Rubin argued.

  “In June 2010, Hemy Neuman has dinner with Andrea Sneiderman,” said Rubin. “In June 2010, Hemy Neuman opens up to her like he never opened up before and tell her about his childhood. You saw on the clips. He tells her what he felt and how this affected him. Doug Peters will talk to you about his relationship and why his relationship with Andrea Sneiderman led to the death of Rusty Sneiderman.”

  And this co-counsel Peters did, with a fury. He branded Andrea an “adulterer, tease, calculator, liar, and master manipulator.” Andrea, he said, intuited everything the mental health professionals would later diagnose. “Andrea knew Hemy was losing his mind,” Peters said. “Sophia and Ian’s daddy’s blood is on the hands of Andrea Sneiderman. She is the person, the one person, who knew that Hemy was spinning out of control. She knew Rusty had been shot because she had primed the pump, planted the seed, stoked the fire. She knew that she was with someone who was sick.” In the end, Peters said, “This case is about one bad—one really bad—woman: Andrea Sneiderman. The gun was in Hemy’s hand, but the trigger, I suggest, was pulled by Andrea Sneiderman.”

  Peters sought to assure the jury that finding him not guilty by reason of insanity would still protect society. “Hemy will not go free. He will be held in the state mental institution,” said Peters. “He is paying the price for what he has done. We wouldn’t ask for anything else. A verdict of not guilty by reason of insanity is a verdict that speaks the truth. A verdict of not guilty by reason of insanity is a verdict that says Andrea Sneiderman is responsible for the death of her husband. A verdict of not guilty by reason of insanity is a verdict that says Hemy was used, Hemy was manipulated.”

  * * *

  District Attorney Robert James had the final word, having waived the state’s right to give arguments first. After a courtroom break, Hemy returned to his seat in apparent good spirits, smiling to his mother. But as James launched into what would be an impassioned summation, the DA insisted that this grinning face could not be trusted. “He’s not insane. He’s just evil,” said James. “He’s not crazy, but he’s a co-conspirator”—Andrea being the other party, although not charged. “Why did Hemy Neuman shoot and murder Rusty Sneiderman on November 18, 2010? Ladies and gentlemen, I submit not because of some made-up, some contrived, some constructed mental defect. It’s simple. Hemy Neuman killed Rusty Sneiderman because he wanted his wife, because he wanted his money, because he wanted his life. Period. That’s it. That, ladies and gentlemen, is not insanity. That is not mental illness. In Georgia, in courtrooms, we call that good old-fashioned cold-blooded malice murder.”

  Taking the jury through the law as the defense had, James ticked off the various elements of each charged offense and argued that the state had proved them. The biggest was malice aforethought, the centerpiece of murder charges everywhere in the country. Hemy planned it like a work project, James said. “He intended to kill him and he in fact did kill him. That’s crystal-clear.”

  The other legal element, he said, was Hemy’s affirmative defense of insanity, a defense that James mocked. “I can go back three decades to quote Flip Wilson: The devil made me do it. The angels made me do it,” he said. But under the law, James said, with an affirmative defense the prosecution need only prove that he committed the crime. Since the law gives a “presumption of sanity”—something the defense did not bring up, he noted—“We do not have the burden of proving he was not insane. We do not have to prove that he is sane. We don’t have that burden. We have to prove nothing.” It was up to the defense to prove insanity, and here they failed, he argued. Just because Hemy had a traumatic childhood or possibly suffered bipolar disorder didn’t mean he failed to know the difference between right and wrong when he gunned down Hemy. James wasn’t even willing to concede that Hemy was bipolar. Hemy’s friends and co-workers all testified they saw no change in his behavior around the time of the killing. “Same ol’ Hemy,” said James. “That’s all they said.”

  What might better explain Hemy’s behavior was something else, James said. “He’s having an affair,” said James. “He’s about to go to the room and do the horizontal mambo. Yes, it’s great. What man wouldn’t be like: Woo, I’m about to have sex. It’s great. If that makes him insane, then half the men walking down the street are insane. Really? That’s evidence of mania?”

  Hemy lied to his friends, his family, his co-workers, and then, when he got arrested, to the mental health professionals. When the truth got too dicey for him, he claimed to have a faulty memory, said the DA. “Erotomanic delusions?” he said. “He’s having an affair, full-fledged affair, holding hands and drinking wine. He’s saying, ‘I love you,’ and she’s reciprocating. What is he confused about?… If the relationship turns out exactly what he thought it was, he ain’t crazy. He’s correct.”

  It was a relationship so close, he said, that Hemy confessed to Andrea in the phone call shortly after the shooting. “Hemy didn’t hide his crime from Andrea because Andrea already knew,” James said. “How could she know thirty minutes after [Rusty] was shot that he had been shot?” He pointed to Hemy. “The only person who could’ve told her is sitting right here.”

  James wrapped up his argument by displaying two photos, one of Rusty alive and happy, the other of him bloodied and near death after the shooting. “This is a case about a real man. Look at him: flesh and blood. He did not deserve this. Rusty deserved a life,” he said. “On November 18, 2010, the defendant Hemy Neuman did this. This twisted little man, he did this to Rusty Sneiderman. This is what he did and they had the temerity and gall to call him a good man. Good men don’t sleep with other men’s wives. Good men don’t do what he did.”

  * * *

  The jury retired for deliberations at 3:50 p.m. and selected a forewoman. After less than an hour, in their first decision, they sent a note asking to go home. The next morning, after about two hours of deliberations, the jury asked to review the videotaped interview in jail between Hemy and the prosecution’s expert, Dr. Crawford. The panel was brought back into the jury room and watched and listened again as Hemy broke down in tears while recounting his childhood traumas and talking about Andrea. “I don’t know,” he said, “something about the connection with Andrea. Even with Reli, I was never emotional about it. It was just something that happened. With Andrea, there was this connection. She was listening to it. It was great. I opened up.”

  The jury deliberated for the rest of the day and for nearly two hours the next morning, when a question came out asking for the written reports of the mental health experts who examined Hemy. Since the reports had not been entered into evidence—only the witnesses’ testimony—the judge turned down the request and told the jury to rely only on what they heard in court. The jurors took a lunch break and resumed talks.

  At 1:45 p.m. on March 15, a message went to the judge. The jury had reached a verdict.

  CHAPTER 22

  It took about an hour to get everybody into the courtroom. Hemy’s mother arrived. So too did Rusty’s parents, Donald and Marilyn Sneiderman, and brother Steven with his wife, Lisa. Andrea was not there, barred by the court.

  At a
bout 2:20 p.m. the lawyers took their seats and Hemy was brought in by the bailiff.

  Judge Adams made his usual big entrance and warned everybody to keep their emotions in check or leave now. He ordered that the jurors be brought in. Solemn and grim-faced, they took their seats.

  “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury I have been informed by the deputy that you have reached a verdict,” said Judge Adams. “Would the foreperson please stand.”

  A woman stood in the jury box. “Madame Foreperson, have you and the others reached a verdict?”

  “Yes,” she said in a clear voice.

  “Is it unanimous and has it been signed by you and dated by you as the foreperson?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you start at the top of the form—and this is what’s called ‘publish the verdict’ here in open court—read it in its entirety,” he said, adding with a drawn-out “pleeeease.” He then told her, “You may proceed.”

  The jury had two counts to consider—murder and the use of a firearm in the commission of a felony.

  The forewoman began reading in a strong voice. “In the superior court of DeKalb County, State of Georgia, State of Georgia v. Hemy Neuman, defendant, indictment number 11CR1364-5, verdict form, jury verdict.”

  Hemy sat at the defense table, showing no emotion as always, in a navy-blue sweater over a light-blue shirt.

  “Count one, we the jury, find the defendant as to count one”—the forewoman paused, her voice faltering—“guilty beyond a reasonable doubt but mentally ill.”

  Hemy pursed his lips, took his eyes away form the forewoman and stared down at the table, then slowly lifted his head up with his eyes closed. Rusty’s father buried his head in his hand and seemed to cry. His brother appeared stunned. Hemy’s mother looked down.

  “Count two,” continued the forewoman of the use-of-gun charge. “We the jury find the defendant as to count two guilty beyond a reasonable doubt.”

  Hemy stared back toward the jury, no expression now. Then he turned forward and closed his eyes and seemed to be talking to himself, as if saying a prayer. His defense attorney Robert Rubin grabbed his shoulder to reassure him.

  The judge said, “I will receive the verdict in open court as published by the jury,” and asked if the prosecution had any requests for the jury. It did not. But the defense asked that the jury be polled, with each panelist queried in open court.

  Called by her jury number, the first juror—an older woman—stood.

  The clerk asked, “Is this your verdict?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was it freely and voluntarily made by you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is this still your verdict?”

  “Yes.”

  The clerk went through the entire panel, nine women, three men, some answering sadly, some with resignation, some emphatically, but all the same: guilty of murder but mentally ill.

  The jury was dismissed, their work done. The judge allowed a brief break. Wasting no time, he moved on to sentencing.

  * * *

  This was the time for family members on both sides to speak out, pleading for condemnation or mercy, making the hearing as much about catharsis as legal argument. The first family member to speak was Rusty’s brother, Steven.

  “I am here today,” he said from a podium, “to speak on behalf of my parents, Marilyn and Donald Sneiderman, my wife, Lisa, my daughter, Samantha, and, especially, Rusty’s children, Sophia and Ian,” he said, pointedly leaving out Andrea. “During our investigation and the trial, my mother has repeatedly asked me, ‘When is this about Rusty?’ Unfortunately, I have been forced to explain to her this trial was really not about him.”

  As a lawyer, Steven said, he understood that. “But now it is important for you to know a little more about Rusty and why his murder and the subsequent loss of him from our lives is so devastating,” he said. “There have been so many lies told to this court about Rusty, even to the extent of the defense shamefully equating my brother’s life with that of this killer. So let’s set the record straight.”

  Enumerating Rusty’s qualities, he said his brother was “a good provider,” “giving to others,” “loving, “a devoted son,” “a wonderful brother,” “a great father.” “All that love,” he said, “silenced forever, because of that man.” He pointed to Hemy but did not look at him.

  In contrast, said Stephen, Hemy Neuman was a “man that left his family financially ruined while he vacationed with his lover on his company expense account.” Hemy “abandoned his family to destroy another one,” “subjected us all to this pathetic side show instead of accepting responsibility … even after admitting he shot and killed Rusty.”

  The question, said Steven, was why did Rusty have to die to satisfy Hemy’s desires? “Was it just lust? Did he just have to have her and decided the rules of civilized society didn’t apply to him? Was it greed? Did he think he could just step into his shoes and take what was Rusty’s? Was it envy? Did he look at his own failures and shortcomings and simply could not tolerate what he saw in the mirror?” asked Steven. “It doesn’t matter—any reason he and his lawyers could conjure up is absolutely ludicrous.”

  With emotion welling in his voice, Steven said, “He had no right to this! He had no right to anything my brother had built! Had no right to take Rusty from us, especially Sophia and Ian!… Every single day of our lives there will be a hole in our hearts and in our lives where Rusty should be. We all still reach for the phone to call him. We still expect to see him, Sophia, and Ian on Skype, especially on Sundays when we visit with my parents. Today, the pain of that void is almost unbearable.”

  All the court could do was is make sure Hemy is “confined to prison for the remainder of his days, forced to confront the hurt and devastation he has caused to so many,” Steven said. “We ask you to show him the same mercy he showed Rusty and punish him in the only appropriate manner—life without the possibility of parole.”

  Steven took his seat, replaced at the podium by a woman about whom much was said during the trial. Hemy’s mother, Rebecca Cohen, spoke only briefly. “Hemy has been a good son. I was always proud of him,” she said, then added, “Not proud of what he did now. It was a big mistake. I beg of you to have mercy [on] him. Give him the opportunity of parole. Thank you for the time you dedicated to this case. I appreciate it. Thank you.”

  The last to speak was Hemy.

  “Your Honor,” he began, his voice full of resignation. “I prepared this statement several weeks ago to express my sense of loss for the death of Rusty Sneiderman. I do not think that anyone feels that anybody won here—everybody lost. I hadn’t written this down but a lot of what Mr. Sneiderman said about Rusty is true. It is. He was a good man with so much ahead of him and I’m so, so, so sorry for their loss.” He punctuated each word so.

  “This is a terrible tragedy,” he continued, “first of all, for Sophia and Ian, the Sneidermans—Rusty’s dad, his mom, brother, Andrea should not have had to bury him. They should not have had to undergo the pain, the anguish, the sorrow, the loss, and as Mr. Sneiderman just stated, it goes on and it will go on forever. The Greenbergs”—Andrea’s parents—“suffered the loss of a beloved son-in-law.

  “It is also a tragedy for three other children, for Lee, Tom, and Addie,” he said, mentioning his son and daughters. “And countless family and friends who saw a person they loved, admired, and respected—who saw him arrested and shamed, charged and now convicted.

  “I am so, so, so sorry. I can’t say it enough. I can’t say enough to all of you—to precious children, all five of them—to the Sneidermans, to the Greenbergs, my parents, the family friends and community at large—I am sorry from the deepest part of me, Your Honor.

  “That’s all I have.”

  He took a seat.

  The judge, who had spent so much of the trial nudging and prodding and speeding the proceedings along, handed down a sentence in rapid-fire fashion.

  “Mr. Neuman, would you stand with your la
wyers, please.” Judge Adams drew a breath and then continued with barely a pause. “Mr. Neuman, earlier this afternoon a jury returned a verdict as to count one, guilty beyond a reasonable doubt but mentally ill, which was the murder count. As to count two they also find you guilty beyond a reasonable doubt as to possession of a firearm in commission of a crime.

  “Obviously I have had the opportunity to sit through many, many trials throughout my career, and this appeared—at least based upon all the facts and evidence, and I’m not commenting on that per se, but for lack of a better term—a planned execution of this individual.

  “And at least I could not hear any justification on what this gentlemen, Mr. Sneiderman, may have done to provoke this result. And I fully understand you have indicated today that you were sorry for the tragedy. But at least upon the finding of the jury, and everything I’ve heard, this situation was brought about by your hands. And as a result of you killing this gentleman, Mr. Sneiderman, you’re here in my courtroom and I have a legal responsibility to impose a sentence.

  “And also I guess even during the course of the testimony—I think I heard testimony that you may have even attended the funeral of this gentlemen who you earlier shot and killed—and I fully understand you have apologized for the tragedy here in my court today, and I fully understand those words have been uttered, and they have been listened to, and the family members of Mr. Sneiderman will make a decision of whether or not to accept or reject those words that you uttered here today on March 15, approximately fifteen months after you took the life of Mr. Sneiderman.