Gang Mom (13 page)

“All I know was that dad was on the floor, and I just wanted everybody to shut up and just deal with it,” instead of the confusion which reigned, Mary recalled. When her father died a month later, it was as much from a broken heart as anything else. He was the parent of one murderer, with another still to come.

Heart attacks, murder, chaos, confusion. It was more than enough to cope with. Joel, though, couldn’t cope and a month after his dad died, he tried to take his own life by shooting himself in the chest with a rifle. It was, apparently, his way of coping with the shame of having driven Bobby to his rendezvous with murder.

Unfortunately, Joel was rather ineffectual as a suicide. Not only did he fail to kill himself, the bullet hit his spinal cord and paralyzed him from the waist down.

“Before Joel came back home, they put him in a rehabilitation hospital in Cleveland,” Mary recalls. “On Saturday, we’d go visit Joel at the hospital and on Sunday, we’d go visit Bobby at the pen. That’s pretty functional, isn’t it?”

If you want to tell a lie, the way to get it over is by including some truth to it. Likewise, if you want to explain inexplicable actions, like murder, take some responsibility and then lay on the soft stuff. It was a lesson Mary would use time and again to manipulate those around her.

“My mother was a wonderful person. There wasn’t anything in the world she couldn’t do for you. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do for Mary,” her sister Judy recalls. And yet Mary, who as a child was a cute flower girl at Judy’s wedding, thought of her mother as “a neurotic idiot.” As for Judy, Mary hated her because of her conventional lifestyle: happy marriage, successful business and three kids. Everything Mary didn’t, and perhaps couldn’t, have because of her emotional makeup.

Mary had so charmed her mother into believing that her youngest daughter was a wonderful human being and credit to the human race that the hard-working Ethyl bought her a brand new sports car, a Volkswagen Karmann Ghia, for one of her birthdays. How’s that for spoiling your kid? But gradually, as she got older, Mary Fockler’s true personality as a liar and a cheat came out.

She managed to convince her mother to let her use her credit cards before the poor woman went into the operating room for surgery. Her sister maintains that Mary, on numerous occasions, wrote bad checks on Ethyl’s account. Judy even had to close off her mom’s home to Mary because Mary had been stealing the furniture!

After adolescence, Mary Fockler made attempts to go straight, attending various colleges, but every time, she would drop out. She began hanging out with the wrong type of crowd, amoral bikers and other types of degenerates. Recognizing the seriousness of her sister’s problems, Judy pleaded with Mary to get counseling. Why not go to a psychiatrist who could help her? Mary demurred but eventually she was forced to see one; Mary tried to kill herself by cutting her wrists and in the aftermath, Judy committed her to a psychiatric hospital for a short stay that was interrupted when Mary got a Legal Aid lawyer to get her out of the “loony bin.”

Mary Fockler had failed at everything she had attempted: school, familial relations, the basic adjustments and socialization that every child goes through on the way to maturity. Figuring life might be better in the military, Mary enlisted in the Women’s Army Corps and became a WAC.

Wacky was more like it. Mary couldn’t adjust to the Army any more than she could to civilian life. Eventually, she was given a psychological discharge.

After surviving two strokes, Ethyl died on February 14, 1976. Some said Mary’s behavior drove her to her grave. Ethyl had always liked to see Mary in dresses, but for the funeral, Mary showed up wearing jeans and a denim jacket. It was her way of showing respect.

Soon after the funeral, her gang career with the Hells Angels began.

Throughout the next few months following the trials, Ric Raynor, the gang cop, continued to speak sporadically with Mary Thompson. He still felt that she had been lured into the gang lifestyle and had not intended to become a gangster.

Within the Eugene Police Department, Raynor was not the only one who ascribed to this theory. The police chief himself felt Mary was not the monster that Michaud believed her to be. Even Beau Flynn’s former parole officer had an opinion counter to Michaud’s.

Virginia Newby was an Oregon Youth Authority parole officer who was assigned to fourteen-year-old Beau Flynn’s case back in 1992. At that time, he was committed to the MacLaren Youth Correctional Facility. She recalled Beau claiming to be a “Crip.” Newby felt that his behavior revealed “… his fascination with guns, the weapons that escalated him from a punk kid to a dangerous felon.”

Newby remembered Mary as a very distraught mother, who “desperately wanted her only son to show her respect.” Beau repaid his mother’s love by betraying her authority. “He had stolen from her and created all sorts of havoc.” How ironic; Beau was just following family tradition, though Newby did not know that.

As for Mary, she felt that her authority had been completely undermined because Beau had become a ward of the state. All she was left with was a photo album full of childhood memories, and a growing sense of guilt.

Newby theorized that “by going public with her story, [it] allowed her to shift the blame for her son’s behavior from her own failures as a mother to the alleged influence of the notorious gangs. No doubt it was a tremendous boost to her ego to be showered with attention as well.”

Mary’s sounding the alarm that “Next, it could be your kid” was her way of focusing attention on herself as a “good mom” wishing to save others from a similar situation.

“In my opinion, her interest did not lie in protecting the community or in saving gang-affected youth,” Newby added. “Instead, I believe Thompson wanted desperately to be seen as a victim of circumstance, a knowledgeable, caring parent in a crusade to save her son.”

Michaud didn’t buy any of it. Mary Thompson was a con woman, first and foremost. Her past showed that, and if he was able to prove that she had put that “contract” out on Aaron, she was going down for a hard fall. But anyone who thought killing Aaron was just a means to save her son was being short-sighted. There were bigger things at stake here.

Frustrated at getting nowhere, Michaud sat at his desk, went out into the field, used all of his resources to try and get conclusive evidence to nail Mary for setting up the Iturra murder. And he was failing. The case was cold, threatening to leap into the “double-wrapped freezer” pile on his desk unless he did something. But what? The practical aspects of the case threatened to shut it down.

Any police investigation over a period of time takes up man-hours. It costs money. And the Thompson case, with Michaud spearheading the investigation, was costing too much in regular man-hours and overtime. Prosecutor Steve Skelton periodically consulted with Michaud, and when he saw a lack of progress in the case, decided to punt.

“Let’s offer Mary a deal. She can plead guilty to a single count of hindering prosecution.” At least they’d get her for something and with a sympathetic judge and a little luck, some jail time.

Michaud was reluctant to make a deal. He knew the woman was a killer and didn’t want to let her get away with murder. But what was he to do? Besides, it wasn’t his choice. He didn’t prosecute; the state did.

There are two types of assistant district attorneys. One is the young buck, looking to make a name for himself and then take his reputation and go into private practice where he can make big money. The second is the career civil servant, the nameless, faceless sword of justice, the guy who quietly prosecutes felons year after year with little or no fanfare and gets his kicks from the satisfaction of getting scuzbuckets off the street. Steve Skelton, with twenty-two years in the d.a.’s office, fell into the latter category.

Middle-aged and graying, you wouldn’t give him a second look on the street. He didn’t wear Armani or Versace, just rumpled prosecutor gray. But behind his desk in the plain office where he receives visitors, he looks like a dynamic, implacable foe of evil.

It was Skelton who reviewed all the evidence in the “Gang Mom” case that Michaud brought him, and made the decision when to prosecute. And it was Skelton who now summoned Mary Thompson to the district attorney’s office.

We don’t indict people because they have killed somebody, we indict them because we can prove they have killed somebody
, Skelton thought. In Mary Thompson’s case, proving murder was just too damn difficult.

When Mary arrived, she took a seat directly in front of Skelton. Off to the side, Michaud silently slouched in his seat. Skelton rose up from behind his desk and offered Mary the deal: Plead to hindering prosecution, the police drop their investigation and it’s all over. Minimum jail time would follow, and then release. If Mary was indeed guilty, it was perfect. She’d be back with her family in no time.

“No,” answered Mary firmly.

Michaud sat up. This was getting interesting.

“No?” Skelton asked in a disbelieving tone. Michaud, meanwhile, felt elated. It isn’t too often in police work that you get a second crack.

“I didn’t do anything wrong. Why should I plead to something I didn’t do?”

“Absolutely, Mary, why should you?” Michaud drawled.

For a moment, the two looked at each other. It was cat and mouse now. Neither was going to give ground. And it was personal, between
them
.

After Mary left, Michaud called his bosses and told them that Mary had rejected the deal. The case was still active. Michaud also knew something else of particular relevance.

Mary was sure that no matter what Michaud did, he wouldn’t catch her. That, he realized, made her vulnerable. Mary liked to brag to the media. Might she not do the same in the privacy of her home?

To get her, he needed somebody inside her home. An undercover operative was out of the question. What was he supposed to do, get Johnny Depp? “21 Jump Street” was a TV show; in reality, few cops could pose as minors and get away with it. Besides, Mary kept a pretty close circle of kids around her. Anyone new would surely raise suspicions.

That left only one avenue of investigation that would let them eavesdrop on what was going on inside the house. They needed to monitor Mary’s conversations with the gang members. If his theory of the crime was right, it should yield the true reason for Aaron’s death.

IN THE CIRCUIT COURT OF THE STATE OF OREGON FOR LANE COUNTY

AFFIDAVIT

I. James Michaud, being duly sworn on oath, hereby depose and say:

I am a police officer with the Eugene Police Department and have been so employed for the past 18 years. I am currently assigned as a detective in the Violent Crimes Detail in the Investigative Unit. I have received extensive formal training in homicide investigations and my experience is based on the investigation of hundreds of cases involving violent crimes against persons including homicide.

This affidavit is submitted in support of an application by Lane County District Attorney, F. Douglas Harcieroad, for an order authorizing the interception of telephonic communications by Mary Louise Thompson occurring at 442 Waite Street, Eugene, Lane 2C County Oregon, over hard-wired telephone number (
503
)
555
-6023 and any and all conversations by Mary Louise Thompson on cellular telephone number (
503
)
555
-1505. I have been assigned as the case agent investigating the criminal homicide of Aaron Benjamin Iturra. As a result of my personal participation in this investigation, through interviews with witnesses and by analysis of reports submitted by other officers of the Eugene Police Department and discussions with the Lane County Medical Examiner, Dr. Samuel Vickers, I am familiar with all aspects of this investigation.

Affidavit of Detective James Michaud

Wiretaps have gotten a bum reputation ever since 1972 when Nixon bugged Democratic National Headquarters. In subsequent criminal investigations, local and federal officials violated people’s civil rights in the indiscriminate use of bugging.

But starting with the 1980’s, tapping a suspected criminal’s phone became the latest high-tech tool in law enforcement to yield results. For instance, the federal government was able to bug John Gotti’s headquarters, so successfully, in fact, that the evidence gathered from the bug led to Gotti’s eventual conviction.

In the state of Oregon, an officer can only get a bug or tap by showing the judge conclusively, in the form of an affidavit, that all reasonable investigative avenues have been exhausted, and that the only way to gather evidence against a suspected felon, Mary Thompson in this case, was to eavesdrop on her phone conversations.

The judge saw things Michaud’s way and granted the order.

In the old days, a police officer would actually have to steal his way into the suspect’s home when he was away and physically plant a listening device inside the phone. Today, because of advances in telephonic technology, police can establish their tap right from the source—the phone company.

Michaud walked over and showed them his court order granting permission to tap Mary’s line. The phone company was extremely cooperative in throwing the switches that would allow police to listen in on the phone conversations to and from Mary Thompson’s house without being detected.