Michael Connelly: The Fifth Witness

“But why did you change the spelling of your last name too?”

“There was a professional baseball player at the time named Luis Aparicio. I thought the names were too close. Louis Apparizio and Luis Aparicio. I didn’t want to have a name so close to a famous person’s so I changed the spelling. Is that okay with you, Mr. Haller?”

The judge admonished Opparizio to simply answer the questions and not ask them.

“Do you know when Luis Aparicio retired from professional baseball?” I asked.

I glanced at the judge after asking the question. If his patience was being stretched before, it was now probably as thin as the piece of paper a contempt citation would be printed on.

“No, I don’t know when he retired.”

“Does it surprise you to learn that it was eight years before you changed your name?”

“No, it doesn’t surprise me.”

“But you expect the jury to believe that you changed your name to avoid a match to a baseball player long out of the game?”

Opparizio shrugged.

“It’s what happened.”

“Isn’t it true that you changed your name from Apparizio to Opp arizio because you were an ambitious young man and wanted to at least outwardly distance yourself from your family?”

“No, untrue. I did want to have a more American-sounding name, but I wasn’t distancing myself from anyone.”

I saw Opparizio’s eyes make a quick dart in the direction of his attorneys.

“You were originally named after your uncle, were you not?” I asked.

“No, that’s not true,” Opparizio answered quickly. “I wasn’t named after anyone.”

“You had an uncle named Antonio Luigi Apparizio, the same name as on your birth certificate, and you are saying it was just coincidence?”

Realizing his mistake in lying, Opparizio tried to recover but only made it worse.

“My parents never told me who I was named after or even if I was named after someone.”

“And a bright person like you didn’t put it together?”

“I never thought about it. When I was twenty-one I came west and was not close to my family anymore.”

“You mean geographically?”

“In any way. I started a new life. I stayed out here.”

“Your father and your uncle were involved in organized crime, were they not?”

Freeman quickly objected and asked for a sidebar. When we got there she did everything but roll her eyes back into her head as she tried to communicate her frustration.

“Your Honor, enough is enough. Counsel may show no shame in besmirching the reputations of his own witnesses, but this has to end. This is a trial, Judge, not a deep-sea fishing trip.”

“Your Honor, you told me to move quickly and that is what I am doing. I have an offer of proof that clearly shows this is no fishing trip.”

“Well, what is it, Mr. Haller?”

I handed the judge a thick bound document I had carried to the sidebar. There were several Post-its of different colors protruding from its pages.

“That is the U.S. Attorney General’s ‘Report to Congress on Organized Crime.’ It’s dated nineteen eighty-six and the AG at the time was Edwin Meese. If you go to the yellow Post-it and open the page, the highlighted paragraph is my offer of proof.”

The judge read the passage and then turned the book around so Freeman could read it. Before she was finished he ruled on the objection.

“Ask your questions, Mr. Haller, but I’m giving you about ten minutes to connect the dots. If you don’t do it by then, I’m going to shut you down.”

“Thank you, Judge.”

I went back to the lectern and asked the question again, but in a different way.

“Mr. Opparizio, were you aware that your father and your uncle were members of an organized crime group known as the Gambino family?”

Opparizio had seen me offer the bound book to the judge. He knew I had something to back my question. Rather than throw out a full denial he went with the vague response.

“As I said, I left my family behind when I went off to school. I didn’t know about them after that. And I was told nothing before.”

It was time to be relentless, to back Opparizio to the edge of the cliff.

“Wasn’t your uncle known as Anthony ‘The Ape’ Apparizio because of his reputation for brutality and violence?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Didn’t your uncle act as a father figure in your life while your own father spent most of your teenage years in prison for extortion?”

“My uncle took care of us financially but he was not a father figure.”

“When you moved out west at age twenty-one was it to distance yourself from your family or to extend your family’s business opportunities to the west coast?”

“Now that’s a lie! I came out here for law school. I had nothing and brought nothing with me. Including family connections.”

“Are you familiar with the term ‘sleeper’ as it is applied in organized crime investigations?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Would it surprise you to learn that the FBI, starting in the 1980s, believed that the mob was attempting to move into legitimate areas of business by sending its next generation of members to schools and other locales so that they could sink roots and start businesses, and that these people were called sleepers?”

“I am a legitimate businessman. No one sent me anywhere and I put myself through law school working for a process server.”

I nodded as though I expected the answer.

“Speaking of process servers, you own several companies, don’t you, sir?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Let me rephrase. When you sold ALOFT to the LeMure Fund you kept ownership of a variety of companies that contracted with ALOFT, correct?”

Opparizio took his time thinking about an answer. He made another furtive glance toward his attorneys. It was a Get me out of this look. He knew where I was going and he knew I couldn’t be allowed to get there. But he was on the witness stand and there was only one way out.

“I have ownership and part ownership in a variety of different enterprises. All of them legal, all of them aboveboard and legitimate.”

It was a good answer but it was not going to be good enough.

“What kind of companies? What services do they provide?”

“You mentioned process serving, that’s one of them. I have a paralegal referral and placement company. There’s an office staffing company and an office furniture supply entity. There’s-”

“Do you own a courier service?”

The witness paused before answering. He was trying to think two questions ahead and I wasn’t staying in a rhythm he could pick up on.

“I’m an investor. I’m not the sole owner.”

“Let’s talk about the courier service. First of all, what’s it called?”

“Wing Nuts Courier Services.”

“And is that a Los Angeles-based company?”

“Based here but with offices in seven cities. It operates all over this state and Nevada.”

“Exactly how much of Wing Nuts do you own?”

“I am a partial participant. I believe I own forty percent of it.”

“And who are some of the other participants?”

“Well, there are several. Some aren’t people, they’re other companies.”

“Like AA-Best Consultants of Brooklyn, New York, which is listed on corporate records in Sacramento as part owner of Wing Nuts?”

Opparizio was again slow to answer. This time he seemed lost in a dark thought until the judge prompted him.

“Yes, I believe that is one of the investors.”

“Now, corporation documents held by the state of New York show that the majority owner of AA-Best is one Dominic Capelli. Are you familiar with him?”