Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: FRIDAY, August 20, 1993 TAG: 9308200235
SECTION: VIRGINIA PAGE: B-2 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: BY GREG SCHNEIDER STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: RICHMOND LENGTH: Long
Spectators cheered and hissed until the judge threatened to toss them out. Morrissey, a 35-year-old prosecutor locked in the struggle of his career, insisted that he was proud of the unusual actions he took that led to the felony charges.
"I've done nothing . . . that I feel is dishonorable or wrong in the slightest," he said.
In a rape case set for trial last summer, Morrissey helped arrange a deal that let the defendant pay $25,000 to the victim and have his charges reduced to a misdemeanor and his jail time suspended.
Unbeknownst to the victim, who agreed to the deal, Morrissey got another $25,000 from the accused man's family to distribute to charities of the prosecutor's choice. A grand jury decided this spring that Morrissey's checks to the charities amounted to appeals for political support and indicted him for soliciting and accepting a bribe.
He also faces a bribery charge for allegedly taking $5,000 to help arrange early parole for a supporter's relative.
Morrissey insisted Thursday that he never told the rape victim about the extra $25,000, even when she asked for more money, because "it wasn't something where I wanted to get into a position of negotiating, of `Let's Make a Deal.' "
James Clark, a special prosecutor from Arlington, countered that Morrissey had been eager to negotiate the charges against the attacker, lowering them from two felonies to a single misdemeanor.
"I don't negotiate rape cases," Morrissey responded angrily, "and I take umbrage at your suggestion that I just let a rapist walk free."
"You didn't negotiate this case?" Clark shot back.
"I didn't do what you said I did."
"But you negotiated this case."
"Yes," Morrissey said, spacing the words sarcastically, "I . . . negotiated . . . this . . . case."
Clark worked relentlessly to make Morrissey contradict himself, and the sight of a veteran prosecutor being taken apart on the stand packed the courtroom with lawyers and at least one off-duty judge.
The trial has intrigued lawyers statewide because of Morrissey's unconventional approach to settling the rape case.
Morrissey argued that the settlement showed his concern for victims' welfare, not just convictions.
Known for his combativeness, Morrissey generally was the picture of cool Thursday. But sometimes he stammered or let himself be shouted down (Morrissey: "Let me tell you something, Mr. Clark . . ." Clark, pointing: "No! You answer my question!").
The spectacle unnerved his clusters of supporters, mostly female. "I could go up and slap that judge in the head," muttered one elderly lady who pounded her handbag and asked not to be identified.
Another supporter was gentler but no less absolute: "They're doing him like they did Jesus when he went in to help the disadvantaged. He's being crucified," said Mae C. Dunmore, who has attended the trial every day. "It is disgusting. It is utterly disgusting."
Morrissey built such loyalty by tireless work in the community. He is of Irish stock, but has paid special attention to African-American churches and civic groups. The result is a Richmond oddity: Morrissey won in 1989 with great black support, but lost re-election in a primary this spring to a black opponent blessed by the city's white establishment.
The fact that Morrissey was charged with three felonies undoubtedly had an impact on the election results. His defense has contended that the charges were politically motivated. One of the chief witnesses against Morrissey - the lawyer who represented the accused rapist and helped cook up the cash settlement - was a law partner of Morrissey's rival in the primary.
When Morrissey testified Thursday that he had even been afraid to use his home telephone because of "political shenanigans," Clark jumped on the phrase.
"There were political shenanigans going on?" he asked.
"Yes, Mr. Clark," said Morrissey, finally ahold of a zinger, "I consider your indicting me a few days before the primary to be just that."
On the other bribery charge, Morrissey claimed he got a check for $5,000 toward his political campaign and only later got an appeal for help from the donor.
Jeffrey Rose, who had done some printing work in Morrissey's 1989 campaign, called Morrissey for help getting his ailing brother out of prison.
Morrissey acknowledged making calls to check on procedure in such a case but denied accepting the donation in return for his services. He also rejected Rose's claims that the two were longtime friends.
Clark then had Morrissey read a thank-you letter written to Rose, in which Morrissey called him "not only a supporter, but a great friend."
"This only went out to about 675 people," Morrissey then explained. "It's a computer-generated form letter."
"Six hundred and seventy-five `great friends?' " Clark retorted.
"I'd refer that [way] to anybody that gave me that kind of campaign contribution," Morrissey said.
The case is expected to wrap up and go to the jury this morning.
by CNB