Crash Into Me_ A Survivor's Search for Justice - Liz Seccuro [69]
CHAPTER 12
The Sentencing of William Beebe
The sentencing of a criminal is certainly the end of a long journey for victims, but it can also be a painful last step as the defense team jockeys for the lightest possible sentence for their client, regardless of the agreed-upon plea deal. A judge can overturn that deal if he or she finds cause, and the defense attorney’s main goal is to minimize his or her client’s exposure to prison. Character witnesses are brought forth to trumpet the defendant’s good qualities and point to all of the admirable things the perpetrator has done. Beebe’s sentencing was to be no different. Quagliana wanted to submit videotapes of Beebe’s ill mother, and scores of letters from Beebe’s friends and parade a veritable who’s who of the Richmond AA community before the court on March 15. But this would also be my chance to talk about the lasting impact his assault had had on me—the impact that couldn’t be erased by apologies or later good deeds. We were talking about the night in question. My victim impact statement, which I had been required to submit to the court ten days prior to sentencing, was the document in which I got to tell my story in my own words, not twisted by cross-examinations. I would be allowed to read my statement to the court and be heard.
MARCH 15, 2007
THE COURT: Okay, this is Commonwealth versus William Beebe. We’re here for sentencing. I’ve been delivered a set of guidelines with a pre-sentence report. Mr. Worrell, is the Commonwealth going to be offering those at this time?
THE COURT: I’ve only seen the one, so—which has the offender’s version in it, so can we go ahead and admit those at this point?
RHONDA QUAGLIANA: Yes, Your Honor, thank you.
THE COURT: All right.
CLAUDE WORRELL: There’s also—the Court has received the victim impact statement and we’d ask the Court to receive that also.
THE COURT: All right, let’s see. When was the victim impact statement?
WORRELL: You should have received that maybe three or four days ago, Judge.
THE COURT: Yeah, I don’t see that. It may be in the file somewhere.
I gasped as I realized that the document I had worked on for a month, attempting to be as balanced and clear as possible, to make the court and Beebe understand what the impact had been on my family, had not even been reviewed by Judge Hogshire.
WORRELL: Judge, it’s pretty long and it’s pretty detailed. You might want to take ten—fifteen minutes to read it. It’s not short.
THE COURT: Why don’t we get started and then—and then, if I need to take some time, I’ll—I’ll be sure I’ve covered it, but why don’t we get the hearing started and I’ll be sure I’ll—I would have finished this before we conclude the case and I may take a recess in order to do that—
WORRELL: Okay.
I could tell Worrell shared my frustration as it had been his job to make certain I submitted the statement in the time allowed for proper review.
A man named Jeffrey Lenert was called to testify. He was a probation officer for the Virginia Department of Corrections, and he had prepared the pre-sentencing report on Beebe. Worrell asked whether Beebe had complied with his reporting requirements thus far and asked where he would live upon release. Lenert admitted that he did not know—the rules for reporting and even Beebe’s length of sentence seemed to differ, depending on whom he spoke to within the department. When he called the secretary of the Virginia Parole Board—a separate entity—she had estimated that Beebe could be released in six months. This testimony caused much rumbling in the courtroom, but Lenert wasn’t finished. The parole board secretary had later called him back: she had been mistaken, and he would have to direct his inquiry to another person in his own department. But that other person was unable to give any sort of estimate regarding the length of Beebe’s incarceration. Although Lenert kept phoning to get an answer, no one returned his call, and thus there was no information about the true