Mafia Cop's Bizarre Nondefense

Friends of ours: John Gotti
Friends of mine: Louis Eppolito, Stephen Caracappa

Finally, Louie Eppolito offers a defense. His defense is that he had no defense.

The Mafia cop, in a jailhouse interview with my colleague Greg B. Smith in yesterday's Daily News, claimed that his defense team in his recent trial at which he was convicted of eight-mob related murders was poor.

Eppolito wasn't the only one surprised by the unfocused defense offered by Bruce Cutler and Eddie Hayes, two high-profile lawyers. In fact, Eppolito's first mistake probably was hiring Cutler. If you're trying to convince a jury that you're not mobbed up, why would you hire John Gotti's mouthpiece, the most high-profile mob lawyer in New York?

Almost everyone who attended the trial on a regular basis was surprised by the defense, which often rambled, got lost in name-calling and histrionics, and looked flatfooted in cross-examinations.

By contrast, Burton Kaplan was the best prosecution witness many court observers ever saw. His spellbinding testimony was like listening to an Elmore Leonard novel on tape. He was the quintessential shady Brooklyn character, an ingenious street kid who seemed to consciously have chosen "Crime" as a life plan on Career Day at Manual Training High.

Here was a complex man who says he loves his wife of 49 years, although he took a lover while on the lam. A man who adores his daughter - who became a Criminal Court judge - but a father who at middle age crossed the line to commit a murder that left two other daughters without a father. A family man who helped cause funerals in seven other families. And yet the defense was never able to paint this grab bag of contradictions as a liar.

The government started with a clear and lucid opening by Assistant U.S. Attorney Mitra Hormozi, who led the jury through a nightmarish narrative of two cops who betrayed their badges for money in a sociopathic spree of kidnapping, bribery and murder. No $50 words, no table thumping, no bellowing. Just a well-prepared lawyer telling a compelling, true-crime story in prose as sparse and direct as James M. Cain's in "The Postman Always Rings Twice."

The great Samuel Goldwyn, who founded MGM studios, once said that he could tell if a movie was working by whether or not his butt squirmed. Not one juror squirmed during Hormozi's opening.

Then, lead U.S. prosecutor Robert Henoch, a lieutenant colonel in the Army Reserves who had served in the Middle East, started calling witnesses to support Hormozi's harrowing tale. Henoch led Kaplan through his direct testimony, which was filled with precise, damning details like knowing where former Eppolito partner Stephen Caracappa's mother lived on Staten Island. Or that Caracappa had a black cat in an apartment in a "thin" building on 22nd St. in Manhattan. Or that he met with Eppolito at a "lady friend's" apartment in Bensonhurst, Brooklyn. Each detail became another brick in a prison wall.

Neither cop took the stand to counter Kaplan's testimony. Eppolito now claims that his lawyers forbade him from testifying. Excuse me, the client is the boss. But the two Mafia cops did worse than not testifying. Through the entire trial Eppolito and Caracappa sat stoically, showing zero emotion as their freedom was chipped away piece by icy piece by 40 prosecution witnesses. Noted anthropologist and linguist Ray Birdwhistell says the human face is capable of some 250,000 facial expressions. During the three-week trial, Eppolito and Caracappa each chose one expression - blank. Which made them look like the cold-blooded killers the prosecution claimed they were.

Weird.

If I were a wrongly accused man fighting for my life, and my lawyers convinced me taking the stand would be counterproductive, I would at least use my face to emote and register outrage, horror, astonishment, disbelief, incredulity, shock, pity, sadness, rage and disappointment to the 12 very human jurors sitting in the box, who gazed constantly at the defendants for reaction to the terrible things being said about them. Only to see two blocks of ice.

If Burton Kaplan was falsely connecting me to eight Mafia murders, the U.S. Marshals would need to bind and gag me to keep me still and silent. If Eppolito was being framed, as he now claims from a jail cell, why didn't he leap from his seat in the courtroom and scream, "Liar!" Why not plant at least a single seed of doubt in the mind of even one juror by reacting like an innocent man framed?

What was the risk? A few days held in contempt while you're facing life in a cage? Instead, Eppolito waited until the jury said, "Guilty" 70 times, after which he embraced and backslapped Cutler, before claiming he doesn't know what the defense was thinking.

During the trial, many on the jury were probably wondering the same of poker-faced Eppolito.

Thanks to Denis Hamill