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Death penalty case of John Doe gang leader in peril as judge disqualifies prosecutors

Lawyer for the reputed leader of a violent Liberty City drug gang in the 1990s calls for criminal investigation of Miami-Dade State Attorney’s Office after judge finds misconduct

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In a rare order removing prosecutors from a death penalty case, a Miami-Dade circuit judge cited several instances of misconduct, but none as stunning as this: finding reasonable minds could conclude one of those prosecutors sent a cryptic message to a convicted killer to eliminate a witness.

That longtime senior prosecutor – Michael Von Zamft – resigned within hours of the judge handing down her order last week and has not responded to email and a voicemail seeking his comment.

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While Judge Andrea Ricker Wolfson said she did not believe Von Zamft was relaying a desire to “eliminate” the witness when he told the jailed convicted murderer he might “find a way to make her unavailable,” “reasonable minds may reach a different conclusion based on the totality of the circumstances,” she wrote in her order.

Those circumstances include the state manipulating witnesses, improperly withholding relevant records from the defense, and trying to set up a jailhouse courtyard meeting between two witnesses and a third man with a history of helping prosecutors make cases against other inmates.

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The developments come in the case of Corey Smith, sentenced to death for two of four murders he was convicted of committing or arranging in the 1990s as, prosecutors argued, the leader of the John Does, a violent drug gang based in Liberty City. Because the jury was not unanimous for death in 2005, he is being resentenced in accordance with more recent court decisions.

But Judge Wolfson is also considering a request to throw out his convictions and sentences, which would require the state to retry him more than 25 years after his arrest or drop the case entirely. In her disqualification order, she refers to evidence that she says would be relevant to that motion, as well.

Both the jailhouse meeting and the prospect of making a witness “unavailable” were discussed in the same August 2022 jail call, what the judge dubbed the “smoking gun” — a copy of which was obtained by the NBC6 Investigators.

Von Zamft took the call from Latravis Gallashaw, a partner of Smith in the John Does, who was also convicted of murder and drug trafficking in the case and has been seeking a reduction in his 70-year federal prison sentence based on his cooperation with prosecutors.

The newly uncooperative witness, Tricia Geter, was once Smith’s girlfriend, but she turned against him and was a key witness in the trial that resulted in his death sentences.

But when she started backing off that testimony, she testified last month, Von Zamft told her, “if she was dead, he would simply read her prior testimony into the record,” the judge recounted in her order.

Here is the exchange the judge cited:

Von Zamft: She gave full and complete testimony in the last trial.
Gallashaw: Yeah.
Von Zamft: If I call her and she refuses, then I will find a way to make her unavailable, and then I can read her whole testimony.
Gallashaw: You would want to do that?
Von Zamft: No. I don’t want to do it. I'd rather she testified and did a good job. But can I count on it? No.

The judge said the smoking gun call “totally and completely corroborates” Geter’s testimony.

“She had developed a fear or concern that Michael Von Zamft would prefer her to be dead, that his case and his ability to prosecute Corey Smith would be improved if she were out of the picture,” said Craig Whisenhunt, one of the defense attorneys who unearthed the new evidence that led to the disqualifications.

The order disqualifying Von Zamft, his co-counsel and a third prosecutor who resigned before he could be disqualified has shaken the Miami-Dade state attorney’s office and put Smith’s death penalty conviction in jeopardy.

Von Zamft obtained the state indictment against the John Does in 2000 and returning him to death row after resentencing was to be the cap of his 40-year legal career.

“He did in fact end his career with Corey Smith, but just not in the way he envisioned,” said Whisenhunt. He said the “misconduct included a heavy reliance on snitches and particularly where these snitches were either fed information or allowed to coordinate with other witnesses in order to establish their testimony.”

He is now calling for a criminal investigation of the matter, but the state attorney’s office has not responded to NBC6’s inquiry on whether it will ask the governor for an executive order assigning such an investigation to another state attorney.

In a press release noting the judge did not grant the defense request to disqualify her entire office, State Attorney Katherine Fernandez Rundle wrote, “I will ask my top litigators to examine every aspect of this case and determine the best path forward. The 24-year-old case is massive, and it will take my team some time to ensure that we are proceeding in accordance with the law and with justice. Be assured that we will get the job done.”

Geter wasn’t the only witness Von Zamft was concerned about. He also discussed with Gallashaw another former John Does colleague, Demetrius Jones.

Judge Wolfson cited this passage from their phone call in her order:

Gallashaw: And you don’t know about rehabilitating Jones, huh?
Von Zamft
: Which one?
Gallashaw
: Jones. Meat Head.
Von Zamft
: Yeah. His problem is - well, Jones, I've told you. His contradictory statements. I've asked to allow you, Jones and (a third inmate Von Zamft has used in other cases) to go to the, you know, courtyard together. I've asked them to do that, but Corrections has not agreed.

Just trying to set up that meeting behind bars “reeks of the appearance of impropriety,” Judge Wolfson found, adding at one point in her order the state’s withholding of critical records from the defense was “at best … incompetence.”

Whisenhunt said it goes beyond mere incompetence.

“Manipulating testimony to pursue something that was untrue and to encourage someone to lie or mislead the court is not only a grievable offense as an attorney and reprehensible behavior, it is also in and of itself criminal conduct,” Whisenhunt said, citing laws against assisting someone in committing perjury.

In May 2022, Von Zamft himself accused Smith’s defense of that crime, called subornation of perjury, and launched a criminal investigation that forced two of Smith’s investigators off the case to avoid a potential conflict of interest as Von Zamft investigated them.

No charges ever resulted, but the Smith team argued losing the investigators prejudiced them due to what they called Von Zamft’s unfounded inquiry.

Now it is Von Zamft facing a similar accusation, though there is no indication any law enforcement is investigating him.

Attempts to reach the two other prosecutors involved have been unsuccessful.

As for Smith — who even if freed on the state convictions still faces 60 years in federal prison for drug trafficking — he “may not have been an angel,” said Whisenhunt, “but he wasn’t who they painted him to be and he was sentenced to die for things he didn’t have a hand in by this same state attorney and this same state attorney’s office.”

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