Second of two parts
Previously, “Murder Victim’s Brother Missed the Courtroom Drama”
Gerald Bennett is learning, to his dismay, that the justice system moves at a distressingly methodical pace, especially when you are anxious to see your sister’s murder, more than a year and a half ago, avenged.
As an illustration, a year ago on the night of St. Patrick’s Day, it is alleged that Justin Finizza of Culver City, wielding a knife, went on a rampage after visiting two South Sepulveda Boulevard bars.
Although some held at the time that the events of the evening were more spectacular than damaging, Mr. Finizza was arrested a week later, on March 25, and socked with a huge bill.
Charged with one count of attempted murder and two counts of assault with a deadly weapon, the District Attorney’s request for $1 million bail was quickly granted, and Mr. Finizza has been sitting in confinement ever since.
Days later, the St. Patrick’s Day stabbing victim was reported to have made a full recovery.
On this coming Friday morning, following a series of postponed actions, Mr. Finizza is due back in court to have his trial date set.
As for Mr. Bennett, he can’t understand why prosecution of his sister’s alleged killer, National Guard veteran Scott A. Ansman, is proceeding at a barely detectable pace if it is the open-and-shut case that it appears to be.
On Friday, Aug. 24, 2007, it has been established that JoAnn Crystal Harris, 29 years old, went to see Mr. Ansman at the National Guard Armory in Culver City.
To complete a bizarre scene, Fiesta La Ballona, the community’s main celebration of summer, was only about 2 hours away from opening in the adjacent city park when the pregnant Ms. Harris was brutally murdered.
According to police, Mr. Ansman telephoned, reportedly calmly, to say that a dead body was on the floor of the Armory gymnasium.
Exactly what transpired in that conversation is not yet known.
But police have indicated that when they arrived at the Armory, Mr. Ansman, apparently imperturbable, was mopping the gymnasium floor, asking the cops to wait for a moment before opening the door.
There has been testimony that the solider was soliciting persons earlier in the summer to end Ms. Harris’s life, and at least one person brought the story to the Culver City police two weeks before she was murdered.
The defendant, facing life in prison without possibility of parole if convicted, has been behind bars from that Friday afternoon to this, a span of 19 months.
Opposing lawyers have been arguing for months about the defense’s version of DNA test results.
In the latest hearing last week, Judge James R. Dabney, exasperated and hollering, repeatedly had to rhetorically pull the attorneys apart while loudly threatening them with contempt.
Meanwhile, Mr. Bennett wonders if the murder of his sister is such a clean-cut scenario, why it is taking so long to come to trial.
The feuding lawyers were ordered to return to court on April 1, a week from Wednesday, for still another status update on the defense’s DNA results.
He Wants an Explanation
“Why are we going through these courtroom antics?” Mr. Bennett, from his informal seating outside the courtroom, asked, softly and plaintively. “It’s like going to a play. You are watching a show.”
He was in the corridor because he had been chastened by the judge.
“Let’s get this on the road,” Mr. Bennett said. “This could be an innocent man. We don’t know if he did it or not. He could be covering for somebody.
“Why are we going back and forth on an individual who was caught at the scene of the crime with the blood, with the bag, with the knife, and still, almost 2 years later, we are nowhere?
“”Watching the people in charge of the courtroom is like watching Barney Fife on television guarding Death Row inmates.
“After awhile,” Mr. Bennett said, unloading his frustration, “you just want to lash out, and you don’t care at whom.
“This can go on and on and on for 5 or 10 years, until everybody fades out, and then they’ll sneak (Mr. Ansman) out the back door.”
Family Discussion
His mother, Martha Lou Harris, approached. She holds a slightly different view.
Mr. Bennett, his mother and late sister are black. Mr. Ansman is white, leading the brother to conclude that race may be playing a role in the run-up to the trial and perhaps in the outcome.
When his mother seemed to resist his skeptical premise, Mr. Bennett said: “He’s a white man, Mama. He ain’t black.”
The son thinks his mother is going along too easily with authorities. “This is what they’re doing,” Mr. Bennett said, putting his hands together. “You go in there, they come out and you clap. You let ‘em know you want more. Where’s the popcorn? “
With that, mourning mother and son walked down the corridor to the elevator that would bring them back to earth, 8 stories below.
