Ramirez Hearing--Daily Ritual of Testimony and Stares
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Like a chiming school bell, the jangling sound of the shackled Richard Ramirez shuffling into court signals the start of another session of the accused Night Stalker’s preliminary hearing.
Flanked by a pair of bailiffs, Ramirez lurches to his seat, silently surveying the courtroom spectators with a smirk before plopping himself down alongside his lawyers.
During the next six hours, the lanky, long-haired defendant doodles on legal pads, peruses newspapers and softly offers quips and suggestions to his attorneys, Arturo Hernandez and Daniel Hernandez.
Most often, however, he rests his head on his left hand, his thumb tucked under his chin and forefinger along his nose, as he stares eerily at witnesses, bailiffs or the prosecutor.
For the last six weeks--as a parade of 95 prosecution witnesses have testified to a series of 14 brutal murders and 54 other felonies of which he is accused--the daily ritual has rarely varied.
Occasionally, during lurid testimony, Ramirez grows more animated, twice flashing chilling grins during gory eyewitness accounts by victims. Otherwise, he has maintained a more docile demeanor than in his earliest court appearances after his August, 1985, arrest. Then he bounced and swayed as if to music that no one else could hear and, on one occasion, shouted “Hail Satan!” as he was being led from the courtroom.
Lately, however, Ramirez is becoming more “antsy,” according to his lawyers.
“He’s getting very anxious and we’re getting very concerned,” said Daniel Hernandez. “It’s both mental and physical.”
Ramirez’s frame of mind became an issue last week when he surprised Los Angeles Municipal Judge James F. Nelson and even his own lawyers by saying that he no longer wants to attend his own hearing, which could last at least two more months. Although Nelson rejected the unusual request, he did grant the defense a hearing today to present testimony from two medical witnesses in an effort to change the judge’s mind.
Arturo Hernandez said he has asked that prosecutor P. Philip Halpin be excluded from the session because of his fear that the testimony may reveal too much of his long-range strategy in defending Ramirez.
Such statements raise speculation that Ramirez’s attorneys--who thus far have sought to attack the prosecution evidence head-on--may eventually enter an insanity plea. The lawyers have repeatedly declined comment on the subject.
Even if Ramirez were eventually to plead not guilty by reason of insanity, the issue would have no direct bearing on his competency to participate in his preliminary hearing.
And at this point, neither the defense lawyers nor three judges who have handled various parts of the case has questioned Ramirez’s competency to comprehend the courtroom proceedings.
To the contrary, Ramirez’s lawyers maintain that the 26-year-old drifter from El Paso has been alert and attentive to the degree that he sometimes helps prepare questions for their cross-examinations of prosecution witnesses.
Ramirez’s anxiety, his lawyers say, stems from such factors as the length of the daily court routine, in which he is often away from his high-security jail cell for more than 12 hours because of slow transportation between the Los Angeles County Jail and the Los Angeles Traffic Courts Building, where the hearing is being held.
Until last week, Ramirez was locked in an unlit five-foot-by-five-foot holding cell while awaiting transfer back to the jail each night--but Nelson remedied that concern by ordering the defendant held in a larger cell.
Still aggravating Ramirez, his attorneys say, is a nagging toothache resulting from as yet unfinished root canal work begun by county dentists before the start of the preliminary hearing.
Ramirez’s lawyers say he is also bothered by the constant spotlight he is placed under as accounts of throat slashings, point-blank shootings and brutal rapes of which he is accused are described by eyewitnesses, pathologists and police investigators,
Yet Ramirez, whose wavy hair flows over the collar of his blue jail jump suit, seems to save most of his grinning, giggling and rattling of his leg chains for just such gruesome moments.
Staring Contests
The defendant, who is always watched closely by at least three bailiffs, also occasionally engages in staring contests with courtroom spectators or the bailiffs themselves. Usually, he is the first to give in.
Ramirez has not spoken out loud at his hearing except to reply “yes” to a handful of procedural questions posed by the judge.
At early court sessions, Ramirez’s brother, Julian, and sister, Rosa Flores of El Paso, frequently sat in the courtroom. But they no longer are allowed to attend because they have been subpoenaed as witnesses in the case. Now, they visit him at the County Jail, where he has been housed in a high-security one-man cell.
Ramirez’s courtroom support is now limited to a couple of spectators who have never met him but go to see him each day. One, a 23-year-old woman named Bernadette who has worn a sticker to court that read “I Love Your Smile,” said she is smitten by the accused serial killer’s looks.
Ramirez is pleased by the supporters, said Daniel Hernandez, although, “I don’t think he takes them that seriously.”
Chanting From Cell
During morning and afternoon recesses, Ramirez is housed in a holding cell down the hall from the courtroom. High-pitched, unintelligible chanting can often be heard emanating from the vicinity of the cell.
According to his lawyers, Ramirez spends most of his hours outside the courtroom reading, sketching, sleeping and helping prepare for the case.
“He’s a bookworm,” said Arturo Hernandez. “He can go through books in a couple days.”
Although Ramirez has a predilection for science fiction, he appears to be an eclectic reader, having digested books ranging from the horror novel “Carrie” by Stephen King to the autobiography of the late actor David Niven in recent weeks.
Ramirez, the lawyers add, is interested in science as well as science fiction.
“He wanted to get on the roof of the jail to see Halley’s comet,” said Daniel Hernandez, although he never did. As for his artwork, it has ranged from sketches of comic characters to caricatures of the prosecutor, Halpin.
Recently, the defense attorneys made public a courtroom sketch that bore a remarkable likeness to Halpin’s face--it was attached, however, to the body of a dog.
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