Legal claim accuses Arizona AG Tom Horne of cover-up
More of the old "Do as I say, not as I do" line from our government masters???
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Legal claim accuses Arizona AG Horne of cover-up, seeks $10 million
by Yvonne Wingett Sanchez and Craig Harris - Jun. 7, 2012 11:27 PM
The Republic | azcentral.com
A longtime state criminal investigator has accused Attorney General Tom Horne of engaging in a cover-up and attempting to destroy records that potentially show criminal activity.
Horne on Thursday denied the allegations contained in a $10 million legal claim filed by Margaret "Meg" Hinchey.
"The charges are false, absurd and completely without merit, and I'm confident the courts will see it that way," Horne said in a statement.
Federal and county law-enforcement officials have been investigating allegations that Horne collaborated with an independent expenditure committee to raise a significant sum for his 2010 bid for office. State law prohibits a candidate from having any involvement in the operation of an independent campaign committee.
Hinchey alleges that Horne and his staff sought to destroy investigative materials, that the office overlooked potentially criminal behavior by Horne and favored staff members, and that it retaliated against her after she reported the information to the FBI.
Hinchey's claim states that she has evidence of Horne's involvement in the illegal activity.
The notice of claim, a precursor to a lawsuit, portrays the state's top prosecutor as a man willing to bend the rules -- and break the law -- in an effort to protect himself and his allies from prosecution.
Horne disputed that characterization, saying the charges are politically motivated.
"This is an attack from a partisan Democrat who enjoyed working under Democrats ... and resented working for a Republican who was elected by the people of Arizona," he said Thursday. "It is sad that good and honest people have to be dragged through the mud."
Horne said his office had refused a demand from Hinchey's attorney to stop an investigation into whether Hinchey had fabricated grand-jury evidence in an unrelated case. That investigation is ongoing.
Horne's remarks came from a written statement, and he would not answer questions Thursday about Hinchey's allegations or his political future. Political insiders have considered him a top contender for the GOP nomination for governor in 2014.
Hinchey's attorney, Suzanne Dallimore, a former assistant attorney general, said Horne's office is trying to discredit her to cover up the allegations. Dallimore would not allow Hinchey to be interviewed.
"It's a terrible abuse of office," Dallimore said.
Earlier this year, another Horne employee -- a former political ally -- also claimed Horne illegally collaborated with the independent expenditure committee. He also alleged that Horne promised a job to the leader of that committee and that Horne helped funnel money from his brother-in-law to the committee.
The Republic has learned that some of the FBI's information has been turned over to the Maricopa County Attorney's Office, which has issued grand-jury subpoenas. Neither agency on Thursday would confirm the existence of an investigation.
The 19-page claim says that Hinchey was the first to blow the whistle on potentially illegal conduct within Horne's office and that she was penalized by Horne and his allies for taking the information to federal agents. The claim says Hinchey stumbled upon the information about Horne's alleged involvement with the independent expenditure committee while investigating another matter.
One of the office's top investigators, Hinchey oversaw some of the agency's high-profile investigations, most recently its inquiries into illegal campaign contributions by high-level Fiesta Bowl employees and improprieties by county officials.
Don Conrad, who supervised her during his past tenure as the Arizona Attorney General's Office criminal-division chief, said Hinchey's reputation is "impeccable."
"I trust her with my life," Conrad said. "Anybody that would try to convince me that she is involved in wrongdoing of some kind -- or lying or misrepresenting facts -- would have a very tall hill to climb with me."
In July 2011, Horne handpicked Hinchey, a supervising special agent in the criminal division, to conduct "a confidential internal investigation," according to the claim. The Republic was told Horne wanted her specifically to determine if someone within the office had leaked information to the Phoenix New Times regarding his hiring of Carmen Chenal, a longtime Horne confidante and employee whose state Bar license had been suspended.
During that investigation, Hinchey learned of Horne's alleged involvement with an independent expenditure committee. Kathleen Winn, whom Horne hired to be his director of community and outreach and education, ran the committee called Business Leaders for Arizona.
"I did not ask Kathleen Winn to work on an independent expenditure. She decided on her own to do that. That is perfectly proper. This is the difference between something the FBI should investigate and something that it should not investigate," Horne said in Thursday's statement.
Hinchey's claim contains allegations that:
Horne retaliated against staff who were Democrats or who supported attorney Felecia Rotellini, his Democratic opponent in the 2010 election.
Prior to taking office, the claim said, Horne met with Attorney General's Office employees to "vet out" those "who may be members of the wrong party" or supported Rotellini. Hinchey changed her party affiliation on July 22, 2011, from Democrat to independent, fearing retaliation.
Horne, in his statement, said he does not pay attention to the political party of employees and fired no one upon taking office.
The office submitted to the Arizona Governor's Office a grant application that may have contained fraudulent information. Horne had been told of the allegations, the claim said, and he asked staff to look into it.
However, an employee discussing the application with Hinchey alleged that he or she was threatened with firing "if he or she brought this type of information forward in the future."
Hinchey, who served as a task-force officer in the FBI's Public Corruption Squad, reported the allegations to the FBI for further review.
Horne said the information Hinchey gave the FBI to start the investigation was "fabricated." A gubernatorial spokesman said late Thursday that the office had not yet identified the referenced grant application.
Around Sept. 27, 2011, Horne's spokeswoman, Amy Rezzonico, visited Hinchey's office "and through the course of the conversation spontaneously disclosed" that independent expenditures had occurred for Horne at his direction during the 2010 campaign.
"Rezzonico implied she thought Horne had already told ... Hinchey about this," the claim said. Previously, Rezzonico said she was unaware of any coordination between Horne's campaign and the independent expenditure committee. The FBI has interviewed her. Rezzonico could not be reached Thursday.
At first, Hinchey did not understand the significance of Rezzonico's statements. A day later, she met with Maricopa County Elections Director Karen Osborne and learned it would be illegal for a campaign and an independent expenditure committee to coordinate activities.
On Thursday, Osborne told the newspaper that Hinchey's characterization of their meeting was accurate. Around Sept. 29, Hinchey was again told about the grant application and the campaign-finance allegations. She went to Chief Special Agent Andy Rubalcava. Together, they reported the information to then-criminal-division chief Jim Keppel.
The next day, Hinchey reported the newest allegations to the FBI.
Around Dec. 12, 2011, Hinchey learned Deputy Attorney General Rick Bistrow and Horne had asked Keppel whether they could destroy documents from Hinchey's internal investigation file and "wipe her computer of all related documents," the claim said.
Keppel told them it would be illegal to destroy public records. Bistrow asked if they could title Hinchey's documents as "drafts" or if they could place the records in a personnel file to prevent them from becoming public. Keppel said he did not believe that would change their status as public records. The next day, Hinchey made copies of her files fearing they might disappear. She gave a copy to law enforcement.
Though Bistrow asked her not to finish writing memos from interviews she had conducted in the probe, Hinchey did so anyway. On Jan. 11, 2012 -- the same day the FBI requested information from the Secretary of State's Office about Winn's independent expenditure committee -- Bistrow told Hinchey the internal investigation was "suspended" and that she should take no further action. Hinchey later learned Bistrow told another employee the opposite: to keep the investigation in an "open" status. Documents in an open case typically are not subject to public disclosure.
On about Jan. 23, the claim said, attorney and GOP supporter Mark Goldman told Horne he was under investigation by the FBI. Goldman on Thursday confirmed to The Republic that he told Horne he was under investigation and that he was questioned about a donation he made to the independent expenditure committee.
From mid-January through Feb. 3, Hinchey claims to have learned Horne had begun to make inquiries about her abilities, trustworthiness and loyalty to him. On Feb. 3, the claim alleges, Horne and Bistrow told Keppel that Hinchey "can't be trusted" but would not say why. Bistrow asked Keppel if he thought Hinchey would notice if her case-file notebook disappeared from her office. Keppel said she would: "She is not stupid."
The alleged smear campaign continued between Feb. 17 and Feb. 20, the claim states, when Horne called an assistant attorney general to talk about Hinchey. Horne, according to the claim, told the attorney that Hinchey was having a personal relationship with Rotellini. Hinchey has been in a committed relationship for 25 years and is a mother of three. Rotellini could not be reached Thursday.
During that weekend conversation, the claim said, Horne called her a "political hack." He also inquired about her party registration. On March 22, Horne and Bistrow told Keppel that Hinchey "cannot be trusted because she went to the FBI reporting alleged baseless criminal activity by AG Horne related to campaign finance."
Hinchey's attorney on March 23 demanded in a letter that Horne and Bistrow stop the smear campaign. Horne responded days later saying there was no smear campaign. On March 27, Keppel acknowledged to Bistrow that Hinchey had reported the alleged criminal activity to him and that the information had been relayed to the FBI. Keppel then handed two envelopes to Bistrow, one for him and one for their boss. The envelopes contained notice of Keppel's resignation.
On April 5, days after Horne first publicly denied allegations that he had engaged in illegal behavior, Hinchey's boss learned that three Phoenix police officers had filed a notice of claim against the state and Hinchey. The claim was tied to an investigation she had conducted involving overtime abuse. Horne's top aides, according to the claim, suggested an internal investigation to examine Hinchey's actions in the investigation. Hinchey's boss suggested the investigation should be performed internally, the normal process to examine the conduct of sworn agency personnel, the claim said.
According to a May 3 memo, the Attorney General's Office hired outside counsel, Dale Danneman of Lewis & Roca, to investigate Hinchey's conduct. The next day, Hinchey went on long-term medical leave. The claim states she has stress-related health issues.
More then half of all union members are government employees??
According to this editorial more then half of all union members are
"public employees" which I think means government employees.
"More than half of all union members nationally are public employees".
I wonder what percent of those employees are cops?
I suspect a very large percent.
In cities in Arizona cops are usually about 50 percent of the number of employees,
with firefighters following them by being around 25 percent of the employees.
Of course when you look at Arizona employees at the the county and state levels
cops are not such a high percent of the workers as they are at the city level,
and I don't have the numbers for the percent of government workers at the
county or state level whom are cops.
I think that in Arizona most of the cops and firefighters are represented by unions.
Of course Arizona is a right to work state and nobody can be forced to join a union,
so not all cops and firefighters are union members.
As I said before I am not against unions, but sadly most unions seem to behave
like criminal thugs and use violence and other crimes to help increase the wages
and benefits of the members. I certainly am against unions that do that.
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Bad call by Wisconsin Dems
By Michael Barone
Friday, June 8, 2012
The results are in, and Wisconsin Gov. Scott Walker has beaten Milwaukee Mayor Tom Barrett in the recall election.
That’s in line with pre-election polling, though not the Election Day exit poll. Even before the results came in, we knew one thing, and that is that the Democrats and the public employee unions had already lost the battle of ideas over the issue that sparked the recall, Walker’s legislation to restrict the bargaining powers of public employee unions.
That’s supported by a Marquette University poll showing 75 percent of Wisconsin voters favoring increases in public employees’ contributions for health care and pensions. It also showed 55 percent for limiting collective bargaining for public employees and only 41 percent opposed.
But the strongest evidence is that Barrett and the Democrats avoided the issue. They had tried to make the election about anything else, such as an investigation of staffers for Walker when he was Milwaukee County executive.
A defeat in a state where public employee union bargaining was authorized in 1959 has national implications.
Unions spent $400 million in the 2008 election cycle to elect Barack Obama and other Democrats. More than half of all union members nationally are public employees.
Public employee unions insist that dues money be deducted from members’ paychecks and sent directly to union treasuries. So in practice, public employee unions are a mechanism for the involuntary transfer of taxpayers’ money to the Democratic Party.
Walker’s law ended this practice and gave public employees the choice of whether to pay union dues. The membership of AFSCME, the big union of state employees, fell from 62,818 to 28,785.
The battle of ideas in Wisconsin may have affected opinion nationally. The annual Education Next poll of opinion on teacher unions showed little change between 2009 and 2011, but this year the percentage with a positive view dropped from 29 percent to 21 percent. It dropped from 58 percent to 43 percent among teachers themselves.
The case for public employee unions has never been strong. Public unions’ institutional incentives are to increase pay and benefits, which costs taxpayers money, and to limit employee accountability, which tends to reduce the quality of public services.
Perhaps the weakness of the case for public employee unions kept Barack Obama from doing much to help them in Wisconsin. Or perhaps he was preoccupied by the faltering economy or fatigued by the six fundraisers he attended last Friday, when the dismal jobs numbers came out.
Whatever the reason, Obama did fly over Wisconsin from a Minneapolis fundraiser to his home in Chicago. And on Monday, he tweeted his “backing” of Tom Barrett, although he didn’t use the full 140 characters.
Now the public employee unions are threatened. Walker’s victory in Wisconsin shows that the case against powerful public employee unions can be not only defended but advanced, in a state with a long progressive tradition, which has not voted Republican for president since 1984.
That’s a lesson that may be taken to heart by governors, legislatures and voters in other states being pushed toward bankruptcy by union-negotiated benefits and pensions.
Michael Barone is senior political analyst for The Washington Examiner.
Jim Keppel, a division chief left AG's office because of Horne inquiry
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Division chief left AG's office because of Horne inquiry
Previously would not confirm the reason for his resignation
by Yvonne Wingett Sanchez - Jun. 8, 2012 02:56 PM
The Republic | azcentral.com
Jim Keppel, the former criminal division chief under Tom Horne, told The Arizona Republic on Friday that he left the agency because of an FBI investigation into Horne and others.
Keppel abruptly resigned from Horne's office in late March.
Up until Friday, he would not confirm the reason for his departure and would not discuss the events leading up to his resignation, saying he may be called as a witness in the ongoing probe.
He broke his silence amid allegations by state criminal investigator Margaret "Meg" Hinchey that accuse Horne and his top staff of attempting to cover up evidence regarding alleged illegal and unethical conduct.
Horne has denied the allegations.
In a 19-page notice of claim filed Thursday, Hinchey asks for $10 million for her damaged reputation. She alleges Horne and his staff sought to destroy investigative materials, that the office overlooked potentially criminal behavior by Horne and favored staff members, and that it retaliated against her after she reported the information to the FBI.
A notice of claim is pre-cursor to a lawsuit against a government entity.
Federal and county law enforcement officials are investigating her allegations.
Keppel played a key role in the events described in Hinchey's claim. He was portrayed as a supervisor who attempted to protect Hinchey from Horne and others who sought to bury information she had gathered against Horne and his staff.
"What was stated about my reasons for leaving in her claim are accurate," Keppel told The Republic. "The sequence of events leading up to my leaving are accurate. And generally, my reason for leaving was related to the fact of the FBI investigation and the way personnel in that office were responding to that situation."
During his 44-year career, Keppel worked as a prosecutor for the Arizona Attorney General's Office and the Maricopa County Attorney's Office, and he served as a Maricopa County Superior Court judge from 1996 to 2010.
In a statement Thursday, Horne called the charges "false, absurd and completely without merit."
"I'm confident the courts will see it that way," Horne said. He said the charges are politically motivated.
"This is an attack from a partisan Democrat who enjoyed working under Democrats ... and resented working for a Republican who was elected by the people of Arizona," he said Thursday. "It is sad that good and honest people have to be dragged through the mud."
Hinchey donated $53 in October 2010 to Felicia Rotellini, Horne's Democratic opponent in the 2010 election and prior to that, she had attended a weekend fundraiser for Rotellini "because she had prosecutorial experience," said Suzanne Dallimore, Hinchey's attorney.
Dallimore said Hinchey, as a representative of the Fraternal Order of Police, met with attorney general candidates from both parties. She did not meet with Horne because her child was sick, her attorney said.
Dallimore added that Hinchey also supported Rick Romley, a Republican, in his re-election bid for Maricopa County Attorney.
Dallimore said Hinchey has made one other political contribution: to her mom's school board election.
San Jose to pay $225,000 over public drunkenness arrests
I suspect the cops love to arrest people for the victimless crime of being drunk, first because they are easy arrests to make and second because they raise revenue for the city.
And of course those are the same reason the cops love to arrest people for victimless drug war crimes.
If you ask me the cops should be hunting down real criminals like robbers, rapists and murderers instead of shaking down harmless drunks!
Source
San Jose to pay $225,000 over public drunkenness arrests
By John Woolfolk
jwoolfolk@mercurynews.com
Posted: 06/08/2012 10:21:35 AM PDT
For a fraction of the money initially sought, San Jose will settle two civil rights lawsuits that put a spotlight on the city's downtown policing practices and helped spur a host of changes.
San Jose will pay a total of $225,000 to settle civil rights lawsuits by four men, including a Southern California sports journalist, who claimed officers arrested them on groundless public drunkenness charges motivated more by racial bias.
An investigation by this newspaper after the initial lawsuit found the city under former police Chief Rob Davis made more public drunkenness arrests and prosecutions than other California cities and that those arrests disproportionately involved Latinos. The suits and reports prompted San Jose officials to revise arrest policies.
While the city admits no wrongdoing on behalf of its officers in the settlement, the Police Department has made changes to address the complaints.
Police Chief Chris Moore said officers now offer those arrested on public drunkenness charges an alcohol screening test to provide a record of intoxication levels supporting the charge. Supervisors must sign off on those arrests. Officers are trained to avoid jailing nonviolent drunks, to seek alternatives to ensure those stopped get home safely and to document cases involving forcible arrests. The department now tracks public drunkenness arrests to monitor trends.
"The key is to make sure we use best practices and explore all the
alternatives, that we document arrests and make sure they're signed off on," Moore said.
The settlement also includes a provision for the city to reach an additional agreement with the men on police policies, training, and monitoring regarding public drunkenness charges.
The settlements in the pair of federal lawsuits filed in 2008 and 2009 would pay the men far less than the $40 million they had sought in damages.
Under terms of the proposed agreement, which the City Council is expected to approve Tuesday, San Jose would pay the four men a total of $75,000 to be divided among them, and their attorney Anthony Boskovich $150,000.
"It's not as much money as we would have liked, but certainly the resolution is fair," Boskovich said. "The city and the department have forthrightly acknowledged what the issues are and taken steps to remedy the problem."
Charges against all four men were dropped.
City Attorney Rick Doyle said in a memorandum to the council that the proposed settlement "is reasonable to avoid the risks of litigation."
Paul Cicala, a Palm Springs television anchorman, filed suit in August 2008 in U.S. District Court for the Northern District of California along with Enrico Sagullo, of San Mateo, and Erick Sanchez, of San Jose, alleging police violated their civil rights with wrongful public drunkenness arrests for which prosecutors declined to file charges. They sought $20 million in damages.
Cicala was downtown for the city's Grand Prix auto race in July 2007 when he was troubled by what he thought was a heavy-handed arrest and approached to record the event with his mobile phone. He claimed in the suit that the officer ordered him to stop, accused him of acting like "a lawyer" and then told a fellow officer to arrest him.
Sagullo said he was leaving a downtown nightclub in November 2006 and was arrested after approaching an officer to question the handling of an arrest. Sanchez said he was heading home from the club district and was arrested after making an obscene gesture toward a phalanx of officers herding them away from downtown.
Cicala and Sagullo claimed that police refused their requests to test them for intoxication so they could not prove their innocence.
Ronald Heiman, of San Jose, filed a separate lawsuit in June 2009 also in U.S. District Court seeking $20 million. His complaint alleged that in June 2007 he was in bed at his Hester Avenue apartment when police banged on the door and ordered him out. When he opened the door, they arrested him for alleged public drunkenness. It turned out police were responding to a weapons disturbance report and had gone to the wrong house. Prosecutors declined to file charges.
Contact John Woolfolk at 408-975-9346.
NYPD fires Hasidic Jew over beard length
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NYPD fires Hasidic Jew over beard length
Jun. 9, 2012 12:40 PM
Associated Press
NEW YORK -- An Orthodox Jew who was weeks away from becoming a New York City police officer said he has been kicked out of the police academy for refusing to trim his beard.
Former recruit Fishel Litzman of Monsey, New York, was fired Friday after multiple confrontations with the department over the length of his whiskers, he told the Daily News.
Litzman is Hasidic and believes that cutting his beard is forbidden by God.
NYPD rules usually require officers to be clean-shaven. The department makes exceptions for beards kept for religious purposes, but even then only allows 1 millimeter worth of growth.
"I don't understand what the problem would be," said Litzman.
NYPD spokesman Paul Browne said the department's rules are reasonable and Litzman was aware of them when he signed up.
Litzman was first cited in January for his unkempt beard. He was a month away from receiving his shield when he was fired.
"I always wanted to be a police officer," said Litzman, a 38-year-old father of five who speaks Hebrew and Yiddish and was once a paramedic.
His attorney, Nathan Lewin, said the police department knew when Litzman applied that he would not trim his beard.
And now, said Lewin, it's a case of religious discrimination.
Lewin did not immediately respond to telephone and email messages from The Associated Press seeking comment.
The department hired its first Hasidic officer in 2006 and the force now has at least two dozen Orthodox Jewish officers.
Like observant Muslim and Sikh officers, Hasidic officers are allowed to keep their beards for religious reasons but must keep them neat and trimmed.
Manhattan Borough President Scott Stringer issued a statement Saturday saying he was "deeply troubled" by the firing.
"While the NYPD can exercise control over the personal appearance of its force in order to ensure that all officers are capable of performing their duties, they are also required to make a reasonable accommodation for religious beliefs," Stringer said.
He urged the police commissioner to reconsider the case.
Where the Mahon brothers entrapped by the government???
First of all I don't advocate murdering government employees for the fun of it, nor am I a racist that advocates murdering people with dark skin.
But when I read about how the cops arrested White supremacists Dennis Mahon and his brother it sure sounds like they violated their civil rights and entrapped them.
And while the Mahon brothers sound like racist jerks there doesn't seem to be any real evidence that say they committed the bombing other then Rebecca Williams testimony. And of course she was was paid thousands of dollars by the government to help manufacture a case against the brothers.
Maybe the Mahon brothers are guilty, maybe they are not, but either way it seems like the government didn't treat them fairly.
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Flagstaff woman worked undercover to nab White-supremacist bomber
by Richard Ruelas - Jun. 9, 2012 02:28 PM
The Republic | azcentral.com
She was a single mother of two in her 30s, seeking out a living in northern Arizona hanging drywall and doing landscaping. That is, until the day the federal government asked Rebecca Williams to become Cooperating Individual No. 986 and help solve a hate crime.
Williams would transform herself into Becca Stevens, budding White supremacist and trailer-park dweller, who would become the love interest of the man suspected of sending a package bomb to a Black city official in Scottsdale in February 2004.
Tristan Moreland, an agent with the federal Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco, Firearms and Explosives, suspected the bomb to be the work of Dennis Mahon, a White supremacist he had tracked for decades. But he needed proof. And he needed help.
He would get both.
In the hundreds of hours of taped conversations Williams would have with Mahon over the next five years, Mahon preached hatred and gave her step-by-step instructions on making explosives. His words were damning enough for a jury to convict him and a judge to sentence him last month to 40 years in federal prison.
Those tapes also recorded the words of a man falling in love with the woman he knew as Becca. Mahon's attorney would argue in court that the charade was unfair, calling Williams a "trailer-park Mata Hari," referencing the famous exotic dancer and accused spy from World War I. She said Williams, a former topless dancer, worked Mahon "like she once worked a pole."
Williams had no training in the art of espionage. But she instinctively felt she might be able to get Mahon talking about explosives if she could first win his heart.
"Just from being a woman, I guess," Williams said. "I was just being me."
***
The blast in the Scottsdale municipal building on Feb. 26, 2004, left behind blood, shattered glass and debris. But scant evidence.
The package was addressed to Don Logan, director of the Scottsdale Office of Diversity and Dialogue. He and two other employees, Renita Linyard and Jacque Belland, were injured in the pipe-bomb attack. Logan survived the blast only because, suspicious of the package, he held it away from him as he opened it.
Investigators started looking for enemies in Logan's life, the most common suspects of this rare type of violence.
But ATF agent Moreland suspected a hate crime. In a note left with the bomb, he spotted a reference to an obscure White-supremacist group. He also made the connection between language in the note that was similar to what had been used in threatening calls made recently to the diversity officer in neighboring Tempe.
Moreland suspected Mahon, a supremacist who had long preached violence in order to achieve his goal of an all-White society. After starting a chapter of the Ku Klux Klan in the Kansas City area, Mahon moved to Arizona and started a wing of the White Aryan Resistance in 2001. He hoped to capitalize on growing tensions regarding illegal immigration.
Mahon made a phone call to the Scottsdale Office of Diversity and Dialogue in September 2003. It was in response to a newspaper brief that mentioned the upcoming celebration of Hispanic Heritage Month. Mahon's message said that the "White Aryan Resistance is growing in Scottsdale. There's a few White people who are standing up."
The message was disturbing enough that Logan alerted Scottsdale police. When the recording of that call was listened to again after the bombing, it gave Moreland more reason to suspect Mahon.
Moreland wanted to find someone to infiltrate Mahon's life. The government sometimes finds informers in people facing criminal charges, sending them back into their world of drugs or gangs to get information for law enforcement. But Moreland liked casting his own informers from law-abiding society.
For this job, he needed a woman who was attractive but unrefined enough to fit into a rural setting; she also needed to be comfortable using her sexuality. An ATF informer who had worked with the agency on drug cases said his sister, Rebecca, might fit the bill.
Rebecca Williams was born and raised in central Phoenix, in the rough neighborhood near the state Capitol. She married and had two children, including one born severely autistic. For a time, her husband watched the children while she worked. She took a job bartending at a Phoenix topless club, but the lure of the money led her to become a dancer instead.
"It paid very well," she said.
She and her husband divorced after 17 years of marriage. Williams quit dancing and moved to northern Arizona, working as a landscaper and drywall hanger, relying on friends to watch her children. Then her brother approached her with the prospect of working undercover for government investigations. It offered large rewards if successful. But more enticing to Williams, it sounded exciting.
"I kind of wanted to be a cop," said Williams, 41. Her father was in law enforcement; so was an uncle. She felt the lure of cracking cases.
"I've always been like a detective in the sense of spying things," she said. "My eyes don't miss anything."
She met with Moreland in Phoenix. Through pictures, she got her first look at Dennis Mahon and his twin, Daniel, who lived with him, and whom Moreland suspected also had a role in the bombing. Moreland told Williams about the crime, about the package designed to explode and kill a Black man because he promoted racial diversity.
Williams took a night to consider the offer.
"The main thing I thought about was (that) I was being asked to do this for a reason," she said. "I felt if I could stop somebody else from being bombed or hurt, then I wanted to do that."
She agreed to the job. Initially, it was to be a two-week trip to Catossa, Okla., where the Mahons had moved a few months after the 2004 bombing. Agents would be nearby in case something went wrong. She couldn't tell anyone, save her brother, what she was up to. She would be paid for her time. And there was talk of a $100,000 reward if her information secured a conviction.
On the flight to Oklahoma in January 2005, Williams and Moreland worked out a cover story for Becca Stevens: There was a warrant out for her arrest, and she was on the run. She also was looking to get revenge -- perhaps with a bomb -- on a child-molester neighbor in California.
Moreland also told Williams that she needed to get comfortable with the N-word. She would need to hear it without blanching and say it without flinching, with some emotion behind it. On the flight, Williams said, she said the word over and over to herself.
At the airport, she met Shelly, the undercover ATF agent who would be her partner in the surveillance. Moreland drove the two to a spot where more agents were parked with the fifth-wheel trailer that would be home for "Becca" and Shelly. The trailer was outfitted with cameras and microphones and had a Confederate flag over the kitchen window.
Moreland gave Williams one last bit of advice: No matter how long it takes, don't approach the Mahons. Let them come to her instead.
Shelly drove the pickup hauling the trailer into the KOA campground. Williams saw Dennis and Daniel Mahon sitting outside their own trailer drinking beer.
Shelly parked opposite the Mahons' trailer and Williams stepped out. She was wearing shorts, a camouflage baseball cap and a T-shirt that advertised her love of firearms. She tried not to pay attention to the Mahons but hoped they noticed her.
They did. Within 30 seconds, Williams said, the Mahons walked over to meet their new neighbors. They giggled and stammered over their words as they asked if the two ladies needed help setting up the septic tank.
"They were goofier than goofy," Williams said.
The Mahons invited Becca to dinner, maybe some beers afterward. Becca declined, playing hard to get.
But the next day, the brothers took Becca and Shelly to lunch. Afterward, Becca invited Dennis Mahon into her trailer for some get-to-know-you chatter.
Over the course of 90 minutes, Becca spun the concocted sob story about the man in California she wanted to hurt, maybe with a bomb. She acted as if she didn't want to tell the tale, allowing Mahon to coax it out of her.
Mahon tried to calm her down. He urged her to call an attorney and said he and his brother knew several. But she made it clear she wanted to do something more radical. And over the next few nights, Mahon started talking about explosives.
On one night, according to court documents, Mahon talked about putting phosphorous into a gas tank to blow up a vehicle. The next night, he talked about blowing up a house using a propane tank.
By the third night, he started talking about a very specific type of package bomb.
"A one-by-five will mess a man up," he told her. The measurements he gave -- 1 inch by 5 inches -- were the same as those of the Scottsdale bomb. That measurement was a detail investigators had never released to the public.
A few days later, Becca pressed Mahon on whether he had ever made a bomb that worked. Mahon responded: "God-damn diversity officer in Scottsdale."
The normally vociferous Mahon would drop his voice to a whisper when talking about bombings, Williams said, possibly out of paranoia that he was being recorded. He also got nervous and looked around furtively.
Williams felt a rush of adrenaline during these talks. She knew she was getting the goods, that this might crack the case. She paced the trailer. Mahon would think she was thinking about the molester she wanted to kill. She really was trying to suppress smiles and laughter.
The tapes of those first few days also showed Mahon becoming infatuated with Becca.
"Can I put you to sleep?" he asked after one of their bomb-making discussions. "I just want to cuddle with you. You're so beautiful."
Mahon often would try to hold Becca's hand or caress her arm. Williams had to respond in a way that let him think she wasn't repulsed.
"I had to let him think I was interested," Williams said. "I never shut him down at any point."
But as he fell for her, Williams found herself resenting Mahon more deeply. Her initial impression of the man as goofy would grow to something she later testified bordered on contempt.
She sat through evenings of Mahon spewing hatred between shots of his favorite beverage, the grain alcohol Everclear.
"There were several times I just wanted to bash his face in," she said.
But Williams had to continue the ruse, pretending that she was a fellow White supremacist. During one visit to the Mahons' trailer, she spotted a DVD whose cover showed a Latina in a bikini.
"Hey, what's this all about?" she asked. "Isn't she a little dark?"
The brothers laughed and crudely pointed out specific attributes of the woman's body they liked, regardless of skin color. The joke helped build Becca's credibility.
"It really made my skin crawl to listen to some of the stuff," she said. "And the really crazy sad thing is I don't think they believe it."
At the end of the evenings, she would decompress with a debriefing. She could vent to agents. And Moreland would give her pointers for the next day.
After two weeks, Williams left Catoosa, saying that she needed to keep moving so authorities wouldn't catch up with her. She said she was taking Mahon up on his advice to move to Arizona, where he believed she would find people who shared their racial views.
She returned to the Flagstaff area, but the government opened up a post-office box for her in Wickenburg, making it appear she lived there. Agent Moreland would compose letters to Mahon for her to copy in her own hand.
Williams also called Mahon a few times each week, recording each call and sending the tapes to Moreland's office in Phoenix. She sent a lot of tapes.
"This is CI 986 calling Dennis Mahon," she said before a typical call, made in November 2006 and labeled in court as Exhibit No. 225. After some chitchat, she asked Mahon the difference between an igniter and a detonator.
"Not too much, really," Mahon said, giving her details he said he pulled from the book "The Poor Man's James Bond."
Williams was paid $400 each month for the calls and $100 a day during trips where she saw Mahon face-to-face.
She went to Tulsa in 2006, again accompanied by Moreland and other agents listening in on the conversations. That visit didn't yield much information, but it seemed to cement Mahon's feelings for her. In phone calls afterward, he talked about a future together, wanting to settle down with her and take care of her, maybe have some children.
In a November 2006 call, Mahon told Becca, "I do trust you. I really do."
He trusted her enough to visit the scene of the Scottsdale bombing in May 2007, when the Mahons came to Arizona to visit Daniel's son.
Williams picked the Mahons up for lunch but told them she needed to go to downtown Scottsdale to take care of a traffic ticket. She showed them a fake citation that agents had created using her alias. The Mahons, who were seat-belted in her pickup truck -- which was equipped with hidden cameras and microphones -- squirmed as they got closer to the complex of municipal offices.
As they went by the diversity office, Daniel pointed at it. His voice was barely audible on the recordings, but, according to government-provided transcripts read in court, he said to Dennis, "This is it here ... Logan's from."
Williams asked where the bombing happened. Dennis whispered to her: "I didn't plant the bomb. I just helped make it." It was as close to a confession as the brothers would make.
The ATF had set up cameras and microphones throughout a rental house in Scottsdale that served as Becca's home, hoping to capture the brothers' thoughts after seeing the bombing scene. The Mahons agreed to come over that night for a barbecue, she said, but a little later, abruptly canceled. Williams worried she had blown her cover.
But, the next day, the Mahons asked her to visit their motel in Tempe. She hung out poolside for the afternoon wearing a bikini whose top looked like Confederate flags.
She still had them on the hook.
But by this time, more than three years of being a confidential informer was taking a toll on Williams' personal life. She would tell herself that she wasn't lying to her mother and her children, just that she couldn't tell them the whole truth.
Her occasional weeklong trips to visit the Mahons interrupted being a mother to her teenage children. She relied on friends, left microwavable meals and checked in daily with phone calls. Because she wasn't able to say she was working to solve a crime, she said she was taking vacations. But as the years dragged on, her kids began to resent her time away.
And during the times she was home, she couldn't relax, feeling on call to become "Becca" at any time.
"The phone would ring and it's Dennis (Mahon)," she said. Sometimes she would let the call go to voice mail, but during crucial times in the investigation, she would take the call, instantly becoming her alter-ego -- that woman who was comfortable with racial epithets and had a curiosity about how to blow people up.
Being an informer also made dating difficult. Boyfriends figured she was cheating when she said she suddenly had to leave town for a while without saying why. She tried a different strategy, saying she was working as a government informer, but the truth didn't work any better.
In January 2008, Williams left for her final undercover meeting with the Mahons. It was in Rockford, Ill., where the twins had moved to take care of their ailing mother. She met the two for dinner, then went back to her motel room, which was bugged and next to a room full of agents. But Daniel said he was going home, leaving Dennis alone with her.
It would begin what Williams would later say was the "longest night of my life."
Mahon took a shower and emerged naked. Williams laughed and handed him a towel. He asked for a back rub. Instead, she gave him a foot rub as he lay face down on the bed. He started moving his towel, exposing his privates. Williams covered the camera with a towel. She thought she heard laughter coming from agents in the other room.
"It feels so good," Mahon said, according to a recording of the encounter. Williams told him: "Don't feel guilty about it. Just enjoy it."
She noticed scars on his skin and asked about them. He talked about decades-old bombings of abortion clinics and synagogues.
"He just sang like a bird," Williams said.
At bedtime, she lay down fully clothed on one end of the bed. He slept stretched out, sometimes pawing at her. She kept swatting his hand away, and said she didn't sleep a wink the entire night. Two days later, he left her an apologetic message, saying it had been three years since he had been with a woman.
As the years dragged on, Williams' conversations and time with Mahon were producing less and less information about the Scottsdale bombing. But Moreland knew they were deep into a shadowy world and he wanted to develop leads into other crimes.
"We knew this attack against Don Logan was not their life's work," Moreland said. "We knew there was an opportunity to advance the investigation beyond Dennis and Daniel Mahon."
During Williams' time undercover, she ended up talking to people she later discovered were top figures in the White-supremacy movement.
On Mahon's end, he was getting impatient with Becca, his protege in hate. She had told him she would start a White-supremacy group in Arizona and, during one call in March 2008, he was looking for progress.
"Get your cell going down there," he told her. "I want to get some results."
In May, agents armed with a warrant obtained a cheek swab from the Mahon brothers, hoping to match their DNA to components of the Scottsdale bomb. After the swab, according to court testimony, Dennis asked his brother, "I wonder if our little bitch had something to do with it."
"I wouldn't be surprised," Daniel said.
But Williams was able to evade suspicion. Spurred by Moreland, she told the Mahons to go into hiding, and she kept up the letters and phone calls. Plus, Moreland believed Mahon would always think Becca was safe because he had approached her in the beginning.
In June 2009, Mahon woke up about 6 a.m. as agents ordered him outside. He called Williams.
"They've got a warrant for my arrest, evidently," he told her, according to a recording of the call. "I'll kill the bastards. I should kill them, because they know I'm taking care of my mother here."
Among the evidence agents found on the Mahons' property were two explosive devices with ball bearings glued to the outside.
In addition to the Mahons, agents also arrested Robert Joos, a Missouri man whose rural property was dotted with caves. Mahon had told Williams it might be a good place to hide from law enforcement should she need. Joos had given Williams two tours of his property, including one with Moreland working undercover with Becca. State police told Moreland they had tried for years to get on the property with no luck.
With the Mahons in custody, Williams was free to tell family and friends the truth. Her mother and stepfather were proud of her work, she said, but not all her friends took it well. Maybe they were spooked to be around someone who had made notorious enemies. Maybe they didn't believe her.
"It's just really changed my life, and it's going to be that way for a long time," Williams said. "It's like I have to completely start over again."
Despite the toll, Williams said she would go undercover again if it meant justice triumphing over evil.
***
Williams no longer had to deal with the Mahons. Their attorneys were a different matter.
Dennis Mahon's attorney subpoenaed Williams, ordering her to bring clothes she had worn when she was with Mahon, hinting that her appearance would be made an issue.
Indeed, it was the first question the attorney asked her at trial. She showed a photo of Becca wearing jeans and a tank top, and asked whether Williams would say the jeans were tight.
Williams sighed. "Yes, ma'am, they're tight," she replied.
Mahon's attorney played selected clips of the motel foot rub, some with the camera covered, where the audio sounded damning, as if something more than a foot massage was taking place.
The attorney asked whether Williams was working Mahon's ego with her sexy attire.
"I don't know about his ego," she replied. "I was working for the ATF."
On the witness stand, Williams wore a series of business suits, her hair dyed dark and pulled back in a long ponytail. It was a purposeful look, she said. The jury needed to see her face and see her as more than the blond, flirtatious Becca.
Mahon sat nearly emotionless at the defense table, even as clips of himself professing desperate love of Williams played in the courtroom. He appeared to look down during much of Williams' testimony, but she said he did catch her eye once. But he looked away as soon as he saw she was looking at him.
Williams was not in the courtroom when the verdict was read; the jury found Dennis Mahon guilty on three felony counts. They found his brother, Daniel Mahon, not guilty on the single conspiracy count he faced.
But Williams wanted to be there for the sentencing.
She'd been mentioned a lot during the trial, becoming almost entirely the focus of the closing argument by Mahon's attorney, but Williams did not get much mention at the sentencing. Prosecutors praised the investigating agencies. And Logan, the injured diversity officer, in his statement as a victim, thanked his family and supporters, and he addressed Mahon directly.
But no one singled out the novice spy who infiltrated a corner of the White-supremacy movement and secured a conviction in a race-motivated crime.
After the sentencing -- 40 years in federal prison -- the crowd filed into the hallway, waiting to shake Logan's hand.
Williams greeted him and whispered who she was. Although she had felt a years-long connection to him, they had never met. He smiled and thanked her quietly.
A crowd of reporters and cameramen waiting outside the courthouse surrounded Logan as he exited the building. Williams figured she could leave without notice.
But at the door, a woman in a purple dress stopped her. It was Logan's mother, Doris. She wanted to speak to the young woman who helped nab the man who nearly killed her son.
"Thank you," she said, hugging Williams tightly. "You take care of yourself," she said, dabbing at a tear. "I'll always remember you."
Reach the reporter at richard.ruelas@arizonarepublic.com.
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