Cruel Death (41 page)

103

The Butcher

With Erika’s case out of the way, BJ was cleared to be brought back into court for sentencing. It was July 7, 2003. What would the judge do? some wondered. How would the judge react to what the jury found in BJ’s case? Essentially, the jury had collectively said with its verdict that BJ had little to do with the actual murders—and it would appear that the jury in Erika’s case backed this up, placing the burden of the blame on her.

BJ sat with a sullen look about his pale face as the judge cleared his throat and started proceedings. It was obvious in the judge’s tone that it wasn’t going to be a good morning for the former SEAL.

Joel Todd spoke first. “Mr. Sifrit is a wicked, evil, rotten human being.” There was some movement in the room. Many who knew him expected no less from Joel Todd.

Montgomery County circuit judge Paul Weinstein was firm, suggesting that he wanted to give BJ
more
prison time than the maximum, but he was confined by the laws of the state and the jury’s recommendations.

“This was nothing more than a thrill killing that you and your wife committed,” the judge said sternly, sounding frustrated and a bit uncomfortable that he had to stay within the sentencing guidelines set before him—and even a little upset by the jury’s decision.

Long sighs could be heard throughout the room as the judge continued to speak. There was a bit of redemption in this case. After all, with a second-degree murder charge, and no prior criminal record, BJ could be walking the streets in as little as a decade if the judge was lenient.

To that, Judge Weinstein added, “This is one of the few instances in my twenty years in which I have disagreed with the jury’s verdict in a case.” He shook his head, looking up from the paperwork in front of him.

Then, staring directly at BJ, Weinstein lashed out, comparing the dismemberment of Geney and Joshua that BJ admittedly took part in to the Holocaust. “You’re a butcher—a
butcher
!” Weinstein shouted. “You cut these people up for no reason.... If not for the masterful job by your defense team of William Brennan and Burton Anderson, you would probably be facing a life sentence.”

When Weinstein laid down the thirty-eight years (the maximum he could give), BJ looked up at him without emotion and seemed unmoved. Giving BJ the maximum made it impossible for BJ to sit in front of the parole board for at least nineteen years. Then he added that if he’s still alive when BJ is up for parole, he wanted to be notified, so he could walk in and tell the board how cruel and vicious these crimes were.

“Would you like to make a statement?” Weinstein asked.

BJ shook his head, indicating no.

104

The End of Her Humanity

A little over a month later, Erika and her team were back in court to face sentencing. Erika was looking at some serious time. Luckily for her, Arcky Tuminelli had gotten the death penalty taken off the table that first night he had met her. The most Erika could receive was life.

Before sentencing, several of the victims’ family members stood and spoke. It was emotional and gut-wrenching to sit and listen to the pain and loss in the words of family members who had gone through hell over the past year, and here they all were back once again for more of the same.

Would it ever end?

After Joel Todd introduced her as being “raised almost as a sister to him,” Joshua Ford’s cousin spoke first.

“Josh was more than a cousin to me,” the woman said, her voice broken and lethargic with pain. “He was my very best friend. We shared all of our hopes and dreams together. We had many plans for our future. We even used to talk about retiring together. I think of him constantly. Every day. Every hour. When I heard he was missing, I was terrified. When I heard he was murdered, I thought I would stop breathing.” The death had been so tough on Joshua’s cousin that, she added, “for the first nine months after losing [him], I had to pretend he was still alive because I couldn’t face the truth.”

Then she told a story of having to drive to her daughter’s school on the day she heard the terrible news, pull the poor child out of class, and explain what had happened to her godfather.

There was not a dry eye in the room.

Joshua’s sister spoke next.

Then Geney’s stepdaughter: “I called her ‘Mom.’”

Next, Geney’s “little sister,” Anita Flickenger, stood and spoke her piece. She talked about the media wanting quotes and she being the least quotable person in the room. “But I would like to be quoted on this,” she said patronizingly, looking around, pausing for a brief moment, having a terrible time looking Erika in the face. “The fact that justice has been served in this action is due to the professionalism and the dedication of the lead detective, Scott Bernal, to that of Joel Todd and Scott Collins, the members of their staff, and to the twelve men, tried and true, the jurors of Frederick County, who saw the truth and rendered a
just
verdict.”

Erika sat without saying or doing anything.

“We owe each of you a debt, which can never be repaid,” Anita continued. “‘Thank you’ is so inadequate, but I say to each of you, thank you.”

Later in her statement, Anita went straight at Erika, making a point of what perhaps many were feeling on that day, but no one had yet vocalized: “I believe that when Erika and her husband butchered Geney and Josh and placed their bodies in the Dumpster to find their way to the Hard Scrabble Dump, she completed the process she began in that awful [rest] room. It was not just Geney and Josh’s body you threw away, it was the last shred of your humanity.”

Anita had struggled with the loss of her sister, as any sibling would. It was back during that week when Joshua and Geney went missing that Anita’s pain, Detective Scott Bernal later said, began to pull on the detective’s heartstrings. Anita had called one night shortly after the OCPD had found Geney’s car. Anita was certain Geney and Joshua were in the trunk of the car. She called the OCPD and asked if they could just bust it open and take a look. It was one of the hardest things Bernal said he had ever done: approaching that trunk and popping it open.

The most vexing words of the day, spanking of a streetwise toughness that growing up in South Boston had likely played a hand in, came from Joshua’s brother, Mark Ford. Mark was angry, sure. He was in a state of total disbelief, having buried both a daughter and brother to murder in the span of eight months. But he was also, on this day, ready to point out for Erika what she could expect from life behind bars. In a certain way, although he probably didn’t plan it, Mark Ford made a case for abolishing the death penalty in lieu of allowing heinous criminals to suffer for the rest of their lives.

“It is judgment day,” Mark said after introducing himself and calling Erika a murderer. “It is time for you to pay the consequences. Erika, today is the day that this honorable court holds you accountable for your murderous acts. Erika, today is the first day of your lifetime walk down Jessup Prison’s memory lane. You’re going to have lots and lots of quality cell time. In prison, you will experience the inner panic and terror of loneliness and isolation. Erika, you are twenty-five years old with a life expectancy of another fifty years, of which you are going to have plenty of time to think about what you did to Josh and Geney.”

Erika sat and looked away, shaking her head slightly. She was incensed. It was clear from the twisted expression on her face. One courtroom watcher later said that Erika seemed to be seething at the core of her being. This was one situation well beyond anything Erika could control, and she was livid at the notion that people were allowed to say such things about her.

Mark continued: “Erika, here’s some reality. Benjamin won’t be your cellmate at Jessup, and your backup death row husband (Jimmy) won’t be stopping by for visits, either. . . . You’re going to be locked up in a five-by-nine cell, hopefully painted purple, without a tanning booth and with no beach to sunbathe on, and you cannot bring your three pet snakes with you. . . . I don’t think they will be serving crabs and cold beer.... Erika, your special treatment time is over.” Erika was looking down and away. She didn’t want to acknowledge Mark’s comments by staring at him and showing any emotional reaction. As she did that, Mark said loudly, “Please look at me! . . . Please take a
long
look at me. Shortly you will hear Josh and Geney’s message to you, it’s judgment time. Thank you, Your Honor.”

Mark walked back to his seat. There was total silence in the room. Some of Joshua’s relatives sitting there had worn vials of his ashes around their necks in solidarity and support and love. In some ways, this plain gesture of honoring the dead was a subtle reminder to the judge—although none was surely needed—of what was left of Joshua’s and Geney’s bodies.

Cookie Grace stepped forward after the victims’ families had their chance to speak. With pure and dramatic tears, which were certainly genuine and heartfelt, Cookie said how sorry she was to the families of Geney and Joshua—and she meant it. She expressed her sympathies, then said, “I love my daughter and I wouldn’t trade her for anyone in the world.”

Erika was sentenced to life in prison, plus twenty years. Judge G. Edward Dwyer called Erika a “Jekyll and Hyde” after steadfastly denying a request by Erika that she be placed in a mental hospital.

“State prison,” the judge chided.

Gavel.

Epilogue

Mitch Grace told me that he speaks with Erika by phone just about every day.

“I leave my phone line open between nine and ten-thirty
A.M
. during the week, in case Erika calls,” he said.

Throughout this project, I asked Mitch questions based on information I had uncovered, with the implication that he would talk it over with Erika during those phone calls. I never received a straight answer to anything important I had ever asked. Most of Mitch’s responses pertinent to the case—and what he wanted to share—are in this book.

Can we blame Mitch, however, for not wanting to ruin his daughter’s chances on appeal?

Near the end of the project, I asked Mitch one last time to talk to Erika on my behalf. “Explain to her that I am offering her a voice in this book if she wants it. But time is running out.”

Mitch said he would, but that Erika’s lawyers would likely advise her to keep quiet.

Which she did.

I respect that.

In light of this offer, Mitch asked if he could extend it to several of Erika’s fellow (and former) inmates.

“Sure,” I said. “Like to hear from them.”

And so . . . in came the letters. One batch of five. All of them had an “Erika is a loving and caring person” type of tone—that Erika was, more or less, nothing more than a “victim of love.” That she had hooked up with an abusive, controlling, manipulative man, who had fundamentally stolen her emotional identity and then convinced her to do the unthinkable for (and with) him. He baited her, so to speak, and then set her up to take the fall for those crimes.

The evidence, of course, points to a far different scenario. Erika’s own recollection of that night in the condo with Joshua and Geney, as she explained it to Secret Service SA Carri Campbell, telling her that she had told BJ to “just fucking do it,” is, in and of itself, an entire contradiction to the story she would later refuse to let go of.

I do, however, respect the loyalty, love, and friendship these women, who
truly
believe in Erika, showed by writing to me. Many of them displayed an eternal devotion to Erika. There’s a “you don’t know the
real
Erika Sifrit” sense to these letters.

I cannot help but think that those of us who use the facts as our guide have been blinded somehow by our own ignorance. Is there a convicted criminal serving time for a crime—no matter what that crime is—who would ever condone the actions of a jury?

I have not yet met him or her.

One woman who wrote to me on Erika’s behalf, Leslie Johnson, articulated her thoughts about Erika in a way that touched me. I feel for women like Leslie and, believe it or not, all the others who wrote to me. Many of these women are doing time in prison solely because the men they loved either abused them or dragged them down into an abyss of criminal activity, for which they saw no way out. Many of these women have children on the outside who are being taken care of by their mothers, friends, and relatives. Many of these women committed crimes to protect their children, to feed their children, and to give their children a chance in life. I’ve met women like this throughout my career. They get mixed up with a criminal, have his kids, and end up taking the fall with (or for) the guy when the ride is over. It’s a sad American story played out in towns and cities across this nation, which usually involves the abuse of drugs and/or alcohol.

Still, this is a separate issue when we begin talking about Erika Grace Sifrit. Despite the role she now plays in prison when housed with these same women, Erika doesn’t fit into this subsection of the criminal justice system.

Erika is a convicted murderer. She was not abused by her husband in this same way.

Leslie Johnson wrote,
I’m sure you have heard many horrible things about Erika because of the nature of her crime, but she is not a horrible person to me.

Emphasis on
“to me.”

Those are the two words that truly belong in the context of these letters.

Erika Sifrit can be whatever and whoever she wants to be in prison: it is her domain now, her world. A place in which she is, essentially, preaching to a choir of women who will sympathize with her.

I’m not saying she is 100% innocent in this matter,
Leslie continued,
but what she did was out of love and loyalty for her husband.... Some people, like myself, don’t know who they are and need a man in our lives to define ourselves. So why is everyone so hard on Erika?

Erika Sifrit was not codependent. She wants us now to believe she was, but that is not the truth of the matter, at least according to all of the available
evidence
.