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SYNOPSIS - THE DEAL MAKERS & THE CESSPOOL By Franklin D.Vipperman I was arrested while driving into my home driveway in Las Vegas, Nevada. The police would not tell me why they were arresting me, and I did not find out until I was told by an attorney the following day I was being charged with the murder of William (Frenchy) Parquette, my ex-partner in a used car lot. My two brothers in Michigan immediately flew to Vegas and hired attorney Harry Eugene Claiborne to defend me. During the following six months, the attorney my brothers invested their trust and money into in order to obtain my freedom, worked against me at every turn. Harry E. Claiborne, while acting in collusion and conspiracy with the State and prosecutors, pursuant to absolute greed, in order to obtain additional monies from my family, allowed the state to deprive me of a preliminary hearing for six months, in order to allow them time to come up with a known-to-them and Claiborne to be 100% false alleged eye-witness, David McPeake. Following a clandestine style preliminary court hearing before the despicable and corrupt judge Rex Bell Jr., whereat Claiborne did not bring my key witnesses forward to testify that I was in fact in the Union Plaza Hotel & Casino at the time of Parquette's death, I was bound over for trial, which cleared the way for Claiborne to extort many more thousands of dollars from my family. After obtaining their money, Claiborne deserted me. About six months after my arrest I accidentally met a guy in the jail, Norman Patchell, who informed me that he had been selling stolen cars and merchandise to Jack Heath, a guy that owned a used-car lot right next to mine and Parquette's. He later informed me that Jack Heath offered him three thousand dollars to kill the body shop man at Parquette's car lot because he was getting shaky and Heath was afraid he might blow the whistle on him. Jack Heath further admitted to him that it was he, Heath, a woman named Carol, and the body shop man (David McPeake) that arranged the murder of Parquette, and had me framed. In addition, they offered Patchell another three thousand dollars to kill me in the event I made bail, to prevent me from finding out he had framed me. A year later, Robert Davis Jr., (Parquette's upholstery man at the car lot) was put in jail, and accidentally ran into me. Davis told me that McPeake spent the very night of Parquette's death at his apartment, and had informed him that same night that he had not seen who shot Parquette. About a year and a half later, Tommy Martin told me that his mother told him on a visit to the jail that his ex-girlfriend Nancy Parker had heard the shots that killed Parquette, and eye-witnessed a huge black man with a big gun in his hands walking away from the scene of the crime, getting into a car, and driving right past her (I am slight and white). She ran home and telephoned the police, and gave the police a full report of what she had seen and heard immediately following Parquette's death, which was witnessed by her mother and her brother. Police and prosecutors later destroyed Parker's written police report. I informed Claiborne through letters about all these things I had found out, and he had personally obtained verbal and written statements and an affidavit from Norman Patchell verifying the same - in the presence of attorneys James Brown and Joseph Bonaventure, who witnessed the same... After two long horrible years of me being incarcerated within the Hell Hole of the Clark County Jail, Claiborne secretly made a "deal" with the outgoing District Attorney Roy Wolfter to plead me guilty to second degree murder, without my knowledge. I then fired Harry Claiborne and hired Jeffrey D. Sobel (who is now a current sitting judge in Las Vegas) and only had 60 days to prepare for trial, as the case lay dormant and uninvestigated by attorneys Claiborne and Brown. Sobel did find Norman Patchell and Nancy Parker, even though the state did everything within it's vast power and wealth to keep them hidden from the defense. During jury selection, Sobel caught five potential jurors that had felony charges pending against them, who had been planted into the jury pool by the DA's office. During the trial, no less than 16 prosecution witnesses who were almost all police, committed blatant perjury against me; were suborned (made to lie) and fabricated by the prosecution. Police and prosecutors threatened, dissuaded, and even incarcerated my defense witnesses to prevent them from testifying. We caught the prosecutors attempting to bring into the trial jail inmates, who they had made "deals" with to commit blatant perjury against me to the effect that I had supposedly confessed to them, which is commonplace and occurs in every single major trial that ever took place in Las Vegas. Normal Patchell and Nancy Parker did get to testify over and above strenuous objections by prosecutors; and Nancy Parker was arrested and incarcerated following her testimony and threatened all night by Detective CHuck Lee to change her testimony. She refused, so Lee took the stand himself and committed blatant perjury by testifying she supposedly recanted her testimony to him. The malicious and overwhelmingly corrupt despicable trial judge Carl J. Christensen later illegally and blatantly unconstitutionally, impeached Patchell's and Parker's testimonies and ordered the jury to disregard all of it. He blatantly railroaded me through trial, would not allow defense witnesses to testify and caused me to be illegally and unconstitutionally convicted. While Sobel was acting in collusion and conspiracy with his buddies and pals, the police, prosecutors, and trial judge sold me down the tubes without me even knowing it as it happened,and he never brought Robert Davis Jr. forward to testify to what McPeake told him personally, immediately following Parquette's death. Christensen then maliciously sentenced me to life in prison. I was transported by van to the Nevada State Prison. My first night in that box of pure rock and steel, the inmates decided they were not going to lock down in their assigned cells and be counted, so the tough little warden that ran the place with an iron fist took a fire hose and damn near drowned all of them. And they sloshed around in ankle deep water all night long... and, can you believe, those dumb asses referred to me as a fish. The following week, on another floor in the rock box hotel, the inmates decided they were not going to lock down and be counted. The captain of the guards, Idi Amin, as he was referred to, walked in to the tier and blasted off two rounds of shotgun bursts which peppered all the dumb ass inmates with red hot pellets, causing them to scramble underneath steel slab beds on top of each other. They then meekly and quietly locked down so they could be counted. I chuckled to myself as I thought about how damn funny they looked trying to hide their dumb asses on top of each other, underneath those steel slabs used as beds. A year later, my horrendous conviction was reversed, and I was released on bail for the following two years. Then, taken back to court in Las Vegas, I was railroaded through a second farce, sham, pretense, and mockery of justice trial by the very same malicious and despicable judge, Carl J. Christensen. Then, for the second time, I was sold out by my alleged defense attorney, Jeffrey D. Sobel and pals, and again maliciously sentenced to life and right back to prison. A short time later, I transferred to the Jean prison near Vegas, and two years later, made my first appearance before the overwhelmingly corrupt Nevada Parole Board, where as they attempted to make me confess to the crime and thereby clean up and cover-up for all the illegal and unconstitutional acts and actions their concerts and cohorts of the horrendous Nevada Judicial System had committed against me, but it did not work. So they maliciously denied my parole and fully intended to continue denying me parole until I did confess to the crime. Upon my next appearance before the horrendous group of people known as the Nevada Parole Board, I secretly smuggled a tape recorder into the hearing, and when they excused me so they could have their private and sacred corrupt deliberations, I left my tape recorder right in there with them. After denying me parole again, I walked out of the farce and sham hearing with all of them on tape. And then formulated the tape recording of the hearing into a transcript, and filed it in the overwhelmingly corrupt District Court of Las Vegas, Nevada. I had caught the weasels lying like hell behind my back and went after them through the legal system. The first tape recording in history catching a parole board in their horrendously illegal and unconstitutional acts and actions, and I had those rats on tap... For the following seven years, the corrupt courts of Nevada, both state and federal, covered up my legal actions challenging both my illegal and unconstitutional conviction and the overwhelmingly corrupt Nevada Parole Board. I buried myself in the prison law library, and spent every moment possible learning law, how to read and understand it, formulate it into legal actions and use it, and those efforts weren't totally wasted. They eventually led to my release from prison. I took down a few people on my way out. First, I came down hard on Captain Edison Walker, head of the prison guards at Jean, and had him pulling hair out of his bald head. He was involved in the torture murder of inmates at the Tucker prison from which the movie Brubaker derived. He had personally been involved with the killing of many inmates and buying them in unmarked graves on prison grounds. Eventually I reached all the way back to the beginning of my horrendous nightmare, and filed in the Las Vegas Federal Court a civil rights lawsuit, naming everyone that was involved in my case, including the cops, prosecutors, judge, district attorneys and a dozen or more despicable Parole Board members. At the same time, I took avenues through Chief Justice Warren Burger of the United States Supreme Court, which led to me bringing down the infamous Harry Eugene Claiborne, who had since become a federal judge in Las Vegas, and obtained for him the dubious title of being the very first federal judge in U.S. history to be convicted of committing crimes while sitting on a federal bench, imprisoned and impeached from office by the United States Senate, which also led to the downfall of judge Carl J. Christensen and his removal from the bench. I further reached back and helped cause Earl Gripentrog, the prosecutor that helped originally frame me for murder, to be convicted of attempting to bribe a Las Vegas judge (which is commonplace) and he was walking the same prison yard as I was, as a convict. The dice I had so painstakingly shaken and thrown were finally tumbling destructively over the Nevada criminal justice system. The despicable Parole Board panicked and granted me parole, as they finally realized I was never going to give up trying to get them put in prison. Then, one fine sunny day, fourteen long years later, I walked out of prison with a big smile on my face, knowing I had finally beaten them at their own game, and further believing that if I stayed strong, I would also eventually win the lifelong war against [all] of them... which I believe I am very close to accomplishing. WORKING TOGETHER TO ATTAIN FAIRNESS | ||
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