In November 2002, after Kopp’s confession, Marra and Malvasi were returned to Brooklyn to face trial. In early December they were again denied bail. Loretta Marra had sat in court that day, watched Kathleen Mehltretter recommend to the judge that the couple be kept in custody because they were a flight risk—despite Jim throwing himself on his own sword! They had a deal! Marra seethed, called the prosecutor a “lying bitch.” Turned out Jim had been right all along. It was too good to be true. They had been set up by the government.
Chapter 28 ~ The Maltese Falcon
Sentencing hearing
Brooklyn Federal Courthouse
August 20, 2003
Judge Carol Amon listened to Loretta Marra’s story. Marra had spoken for a better part of the afternoon, flipping page after page of her speech, and was still not finished. “Ms. Marra, do you think you can summarize your last several pages for the court?”
“Yes, I will try,” she said.
She told the judge the prosecutors had acted in bad faith, had made promises that she and her husband would be released if Kopp confessed—and had then gone back on their word. And now the prosecution was trying to put them away for five years. “I hope you won’t let them get away with it,” she said. “Because Jim would never in a million years have made these admissions prior to the disposition of my case. I beg you, please do not let them get away with this.”
“To summarize, Ms. Marra,” said Amon, “it is your position that Mr. Kopp made these admissions after conversations with you and that the motivating factor for him in making these admissions at the time he did was to benefit you and Mr. Malvasi?”
“Yes.”
Now it was Peter Katz’s turn. The prosecutor argued that in fact there had never been anything on the record, no “direct promise” for the release of Marra and Malvasi. And a newspaper was not the proper forum for Kopp to confess. Barket countered that Marra had been promised “credit” for delivering Kopp’s confession. The fly in the ointment had been when the Buffalo News published the confession story before he had a deal from the prosecution. “The reporters essentially lied to me,” said Barket. “They promised to hold the story.”
Court adjourned until 9:30 the next morning. Judge Amon had come to a decision on the sentence. The government had tried to prove additional criminal conduct to maximize their punishment, to give them nearly three more years in jail. But Amon had decided the prosecution had not proved that sufficiently. “I’m not persuaded that the acts were anything more than harboring.” She looked at Barket. “How much time has been served already?”
“Twenty-nine to 30 months, Your Honor. Since March 29, 2001.”
Amon said that Marra’s words convinced her that she had a role in eliciting Kopp’s confession, and that she deserved some consideration for that. But, the judge continued, the bottom line was that Kopp’s confession, and Loretta Marra’s role in it, was mostly irrelevant. Based on a strict reading of the sentencing guidelines for harboring a fugitive, Marra and Malvasi had already technically exceeded the incarceration guideline for the crime. Barket’s eyes lit up.
“Move time served, Your Honor,” he said.
“Your Honor,” Katz interjected, “if you impose time served, that would not be appropriate.”
“The guideline is low, in light of their conduct,” said the judge. “And Mr. Malvasi has a really disturbing background of violence.” But she decided to release Loretta Marra and Dennis Malvasi. “You are free to return to your children,” the judge said.
In the gallery, friends broke into tears. Amon added a cautionary note. “You helped a man the FBI claimed was a murderer. And he was a murderer. Ms. Marra, in part of your statement you said you will continue to admire Mr. Kopp, and that your moral concern was not centered on his admission of killing, but that he lied to his followers about it. I find that troubling. I hope you will use your considerable intellect to educate your children; don’t poison them with any notion that you were political prisoners of an unfair system, because that was not the case. You are sentenced to time served, plus three years supervised release and a $100 fine. You must reside in the Eastern District of New York.”
“West Milford, New Jersey, is where her family is, Your Honor,” said Barket.
“Then she can go to New Jersey today. This court is adjourned.”
After paying their $100 fine, Marra and Malvasi were officially released. They walked out the front door of the Brooklyn courthouse arm in arm into sunshine and a warm breeze. Their skin looked even paler outside, Marra looked fragile. Reporters surrounded them. Loretta didn’t want any part of it. Malvasi didn’t shy away.
Dennis, do you think this experience will change you as far as your involvement in the anti-abortion movement goes?
“I am an abolitionist. I have never been a member of the antiabortion movement. So I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Dennis, did you know that Kopp had killed Slepian when you invited him to stay at your apartment?
“With this one, I was actually minding my own business. I have never met James Kopp, I have never spoken to the man. One thing I know is, if my wife ever asks permission again for someone I don’t know to stay at our house, I’m going to say no.”
Dennis, was the murder of Barnett Slepian wrong?
“I don’t want to answer that. I’m on federal parole. You guys are asking me loaded questions.”
They started to move slowly away from the reporters. Among friends and family, Loretta Marra broke into a smile. She had delivered the speech of her life in court. Funny thing, though. Marra had gone to great lengths to prove to the judge that she was the one who had convinced Kopp to confess. He had done so in order to free her. But Judge Amon would have freed her anyway. Kopp’s confession was mostly irrelevant to the timing of Loretta’s release. A reporter asked Marra about that.
Loretta, given that the judge released you and said the confession had little impact on her decision, do you regret, now, having convinced your friend Jim to confess?
The pale green eyes stared unblinkingly, her face now showing color from the flush of the moment, the heat. Tiny beads of sweat had popped out on her forehead. “That’s a really good question,” she said. “I’ll have to think about that one for a while.”
Loretta, will you still take part in anti-abortion protests?
“I just want to get back to my kids.” Her kids. She had gone to Canada to give birth to both of her children. Why? She smiled at the question. “Yes, that’s true. They were born in Canada because—”
Bruce Barket cut her off in mid-sentence. “Ah-ah,” he said. “She’s not answering that.”
Loretta and Dennis walked away with friends and family, through a park and the shade thrown by towering trees. Celebrations would follow in the weeks to come, 150 pro-life friends would gather with the couple at a hall in New Jersey. But for now, a dozen family and friends gathered for lunch in the sun at a sidewalk café on nearby Chilton Avenue. It was wonderful, God smiling on them all. Louis, Loretta’s seven-year-old, found a five-dollar bill on the sidewalk, used it to buy his mom and dad their favorite candy bars. Dennis and Loretta still wore their prison attire, the baggy white shirts, scrubs, but their appearance turned no heads, not in New York City. They finally tasted decent sandwiches, pickles. Sipped some Sangria. As they walked away, Loretta stopped and gave Louis yet another hug. And then her other son, the four-year old, ran into her thin arms. He was born in 1999 when Jim Kopp was on the run. Loretta picked him up, held him high, looked into his eyes, joy rippling through her. He was her baby. She had named him James.