Two days later, the FBI made a return visit to the A-Z Pawn Shop in Old Hickory, Tennessee. This time, Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms agent Mark Hoback wasn’t looking for a name, but rather a serial number. The store records showed the gun buried on Bart Slepian’s property had indeed been sold by A-Z. The man who purchased it on July 16, 1997 was a B. James Milton, of Virginia. The FBI checked Virginia records. B. James Milton did not exist.
Chapter 14 ~ Wanted
FBI agents continued searching and gathering anything related to Kopp. On April 15, FBI agents searched the Raymond P. Betit Agency, at 439 Main St., Room Seven, Bennington, Vt. and seized Kopp’s insurance file. April 19, agents searched 4112 Pleasure Ave., Sea Isle City, N.J. and seized an arc welder. That same day they searched the grounds at 148 Deep Grass Lane, Greenwood, Del. In an abandoned building on the property they found a passport in the name of Nancy Kopp, some papers, rope and a ceramic cup. On May 5 and 6 they searched Seth Grodofsky’s apartment in Jersey City again, seized a pad of tracing paper, a piece of wire with pink plastic insulation, and a piece of armored three-wire electrical conduit. On May 11, agents searched CVS Pharmacy, 1099 Route. 33, Hamilton, New Jersey, and collected one videotape labeled “Thursday.”
Forensics agents sifted through reams of DNA and fiber evidence. Hair found in a green hat at the scene behind the Slepians’ home did not contain roots, and thus no DNA. Instead a mitochondrial DNA analysis was performed. The profile was compared to DNA evidence obtained from a toothbrush found in James Gannon’s attic. The two samples matched, and excluded 99.35 percent of the general Caucasian population. The guy who had been in the woods behind Dr. Slepian’s house had also stayed at Gannon’s. Was it James Kopp? They needed to capture Kopp and retrieve his DNA to prove that.
Meanwhile, Karen Lanning, an FBI lab scientist, studied the blue-green acrylic fibers discovered on the wooden stock extension attached to the rifle. There were similar fibers on the pair of white gloves and a belted fanny pack—much like the fibers found on the tree where the sniper had positioned himself, which in turn resembled those found on clothing and bedding in Seth Grodofsky’s Jersey City apartment, and those vacuumed from James Kopp’s Chevy Cavalier in Newark.
Ballistics focused on the SKS rifle. FBI firearms expert James Cadigan determined that the full metal jacket 7.42 x 39-millimeter bullet recovered inside the house was of a caliber consistent with the rifle found in the woods. But there was a snag. When Cadigan test fired the SKS at an FBI range to confirm it was operable, he could not conclusively link the Slepian bullet to the rifle. The rifling marks on the bullet he fired did not match those on the evidence. Had the bullet that killed Dr. Slepian been fired from another rifle? Not necessarily, Cadigan argued. It was not uncommon for the internal characteristics of the barrel of a high-powered rifle to change with each shot, which meant rifling marks would change as well.
A second issue was the rifle’s accuracy. If the case ever went to trial, they would have to reconstruct the shooting scene and the sniper’s position in meticulous detail. That included test firing the weapon. But the rifle’s scope had been removed to test the eyepiece glass for DNA. When the scope was remounted, the alignment was off. An FBI marksman later had to align it properly. Those were issues that FBI investigators knew could come back to bite them in court, if they ever made an arrest in the case.
The evidence collected so far was sufficient. An arrest warrant was issued for James Charles Kopp in the murder of Dr. Barnett Slepian. The federal warrant, signed by Judge Hugh B. Scott, referred to Kopp using “force, intentionally injuring, intimidating and interfering with Dr. Barnett Slepian because he was and had been providing reproductive health services.”
Bernie Tolbert watched his son take to the baseball diamond with the other kids. Springtime in Amherst. His youngest boy played in the Lou Gehrig Little League. Tolbert walked over to the bleachers. There was Lynne Slepian. She had a son playing ball, too. She was playing the role of both mother and father now. It had been seven months since the murder, seven months since Bart’s boys had been there, kneeling on the floor, watching their father bleed to death. She stayed in touch with Bernie, quizzing him for updates on the investigation. What are you doing? What is going on? Bernie told her the FBI put Kopp on its Ten Most Wanted Fugitives List. “But will that help, Bernie, have a tangible effect?”
“It’s an important, maybe critical, step, Lynne,” he said in
his deep, deliberate baritone. “The success rate is something like 94 percent captured,” he said. It was hard for Bernie to look into Lynne’s face when she watched her fatherless sons. It was a reminder that they had to get Kopp. Had to.
On June 2, agents searched a garage at 252 Whiton Street, Jersey City, and seized two wood and carpeted structures bearing the name “Clyde.” On June 16, California agents searched a residence at 351 View Drive, Ukiah, California.
On June 23, FBI agents once again interviewed Loretta’s brother, Nicholas. “I still haven’t heard from her,” he said. The agents played him a tape recording. It was from a call on November 20, 1998. Nick listened. It was the conversation between an unsuspecting Loretta—returning a page for John Rizzo—and a law enforcement officer. “I don’t recognize either voice,” he said.
Later, an agent made notes. Nicholas Marra was lying, he believed. Telephone records for Marra showed that he had called the Rizzo pager himself, as well as a cell phone Loretta had been using under the name of John Graskukas.
It was on June 24 that a grand jury in Erie County indicted James Charles Kopp on charges of murder in the second degree, reckless endangerment in the first degree, and criminal possession of a weapon in the third degree. But Jim Kopp was a long way from Erie County.
Brooklyn, N.Y.
Wednesday, October 6, 1999
The woman who called herself Joyce Maier walked into the brown brick building at 385 Chestnut Street, in the eastern corner of Brooklyn. Loretta Marra had lived with Dennis Malvasi in apartment 2D since March. There were some nice streets not too far away, quaint walk-up apartments, bustling shops and markets. But the immediate area around the building on Chestnut was not pleasant. Cabbies wouldn’t come here at night. Loretta’s apartment overlooked Liberty Street and F&H Auto Repair, which was protected by a chain-link fence crowned with razor wire. Across the street sat an empty lot overgrown with weeds and strewn with litter, a “Danger: Poison” sign marking the spot.
Loretta sometimes spoke with a neighbor named Carmen, and her friend Yolanda. Carmen was a tiny 78-year old from Puerto Rico, walked with a limp and had a black Chiuahaua named Chi Chi. She was a pastor, had her very own pulpit in her apartment where she addressed friends or those she helped off the street, preached the Rapture to them, told them the Good News: “God is coming, and the earth will be aflame! And you know who will burn? The wicked will burn. The wicked will burn!”