Inside the Luigi Mangione State Criminal Hearing: The First-Hand Details You’ll Never Hear Anywhere Else

The Fight to Get Inside, the Courtroom Tension, and the Unprecedented Legal Battle Unfolding

I: The Preparation & Battle to Get Inside

Having flown across the country from Los Angeles for this hearing and dedicating the entire week to planning for it, I was determined to be one of the members of the public let inside the courtroom. No stone was left unturned in my approach—there were plans, backup plans, and backup plans for the backup plans. This was not some haphazard, spur of the moment idea I put together for the hell of it. I have been truly gripped by this case and every aspect of it since December 4th, 2024, due the incredible intersection of law, politics, and American culture it occupies.

Of course, it doesn’t hurt that Luigi also happens to be perhaps the most objectively attractive human male I’ve ever seen in real life, or that his face activates something in my own Sicilian & Italian DNA that I did not know was possible. I’m a happily married woman who was the only one in line not dressed for the hearing as if I were going on a first date with him—but I get it. He’s incredibly handsome, you’d have to be blind or delusional not to be able to see why he has such a huge female fanbase.

I arrived in New York City on Sunday, 2/16/25, and planned my week out on Monday, 2/17/25, which was President’s Day. As such, the courthouses were closed, so I waited until Tuesday to go down to the NY State criminal courthouse in person and try out my Plan A. In California (where I practice), it’s possible to sometimes obtain an “attorney observer” pass for cases if you ask ahead of time. It’s totally up to the discretion of the judge and not guaranteed at all, but it’s something you can try to get approved. When I told my husband that I was going to test this out and see if they had anything similar in NY, he mocked me for thinking that this would be a viable option.

He was, of course, correct. I was told in no uncertain terms—once politely by a court clerk and then rudely by a security guard—that there is no preference for attorneys, and I’d have to wait in the general public line if I wasn’t press. Fine, no problem. Can’t say I didn’t “shoot my shot,” as the kids say. I accepted that I would have to get in line very early, but still wasn’t sure how early. The hearing had initially been scheduled for 9:00am, but all updates from Luigi’s legal team on their newly-launched website indicated it had been re-slated for the 2:15pm docket. With this in mind, my Plan B was to go to the courthouse again on Thursday (2/20/25), getting as much information from the court clerks and security guards as possible regarding the security procedures in place and how they were going to arrange the general public line.

I spoke to six security guards and four court clerks on Thursday, every time being given some version of the line “we have not yet been briefed on security measures for tomorrow, and anything is subject to change.” This told me that they had in fact already been briefed, and part of that briefing was to tell any members of the public seeking details that they had not been briefed yet. From the few comments that were not completely useless I was able to cobble together from these interactions, I concluded that the doors would be opening at 8am, that the hearing was definitely scheduled for 2:15pm docket, and that they were preparing for a lot of people. While I was there, I observed security measures already being put in place, such as barricades on the ground floor and 15th floor (where the hearing had been moved to from its originally scheduled, smaller room on the 13th floor).

Based on the comments from a security guard about doors opening at 8am and “the earlier the better,” I formulated my plan to be in line at 3am. There was just one problem—I had forgotten just how effing brutal New York winters are. I was there during the coldest week of the year, when NYC was colder than Alaska. It had snowed; the sidewalks were ice. As much as I tried to tell myself, ‘oh, I’ll just film content and work while I wait,’ it began to dawn on me how delusional this was. My hands would be too frozen to type, and I wasn’t about to hold my phone on a selfie stick or my Canon or my iPad or my laptop out in the dark, freezing cold at 3 AM.

Also, I’m 4’9.” I’ve been mugged before. There was no way to really know how this line was going to compare to other high-profile cases, and whether I’d be standing alone or with others. That’s when a friend suggested something I hadn’t even thought of: pay someone to hold my place in line. The friend told me that friends of theirs did this for special, limited seating events in the city, and that there was a whole industry in the city built around the need for this service. I was incredulous, but also very intrigued. Was this really possible?

Sure enough, it was. I lucked out and found someone who had done this exact thing before at the same courthouse for another high-profile case. We agreed on 3:30am, and I’d relieve him at 7:30am. I barely got any sleep the night before, finally laying down around 3am with a 6am alarm set. My mind raced with the anticipation and lead up, hoping that I hadn’t made a huge mistake by trusting this to someone I didn’t know, rather than standing in the line myself at 3am.

II: Waiting in Line and The Battle for the Front

When my alarm went off at 6am, the first thing I did was check in with my line-holder: How’s it look?

“I’m #5 in line, and there are other line holders here.”

A wave of relief washed over me—he was number 5 in line! I was definitely going to make it inside! I wasn’t insane to hire him, other people had also done it, and he actually came through and secured me a spot that would ensure I was let into the courtroom. At the December 23rd hearing, 24 people were let in from the public, and that hearing had been announced fairly last-minute with not nearly as much time for the public to prepare for it. Something told me that either exactly 24 people or less would be permitted inside this time.

At 7:30 when I relieved him, I heard a bunch of people murmuring something along the lines of “not going to lie, that was really smart” or “I can’t even be mad, I wish I’d thought of that.” There were already what appeared to be close to 40 people in line by this point, which I was astonished by. I already knew half of them were not going to get inside, and we still had 6.5 hours before the hearing for more people to show up.

And show up they did!

I’ve never seen anything like what I experienced in line for this hearing at any courthouse, for any other case in my life. I don’t think even the Trump sentencing or the Depp v. Heard case had anywhere close to this amount of general public trying to get inside. By the time the doors opened at 8am, there had to be almost 60 people lined up. A security guard who I recognized from having spoken to the previous day made an announcement that he was going to “call upstairs” to see if he could get us lined up on the 15th floor where the hearing was, and “out of his lobby.” This was of course ideal, we wanted to be lined up right outside the courtroom door and not risk being forced to wait in the lobby the entire time and something happening with the line order as we were redirected upstairs.

Alas, something did happen with the line order anyway. When we were let inside, we were split into two lines to go through the metal detectors. It was at this point that some less-than-scrupulous people in line seized the opportunity to run past some of us who were further ahead in line as we had to wait for our bags from the metal detectors. A paperclip in my jacket pocket (my friend’s borrowed winter coat, so her paperclip) forced me to go through the detector a second time, losing another precious 30 seconds to some shameless people in the other line who were running to the elevators ahead. When it was all said and done, the way the chips landed on the 15th floor, I ended up #12 in line.

For a brief moment I considered confronting the people who had snuck ahead, but decided against it as we still had so many hours together in line, and I was fairly certain #12 would still be let inside. My gut was telling me that they wouldn’t let less than 20 people in, but if I had been one of the people around number #20, you can bet your ass I would’ve made a scene and shamed them into moving back to their original order. If those people weren’t going to fight for it, I wasn’t going to fight on their behalf, so I accepted by 12th place spot and tried to get comfortable for the next 6 hours in that courthouse hallway with these people.

It felt like every 5 seconds, another person rounded the corner from the elevator to join the line. They all had the same look of shock and disbelief that the line was already as long as it was, clearly thinking they had gotten there plenty early enough for a 2:15 hearing. By 10:30am, there were nearly 100 people in a line that wrapped entirely around the hallway. It wasn’t long after this that we began to see some Oscar-worthy acting performances of people coming up to those of us in the front of the line, giving us various sob stories about why we should let them cut ahead of us.

Among my favorites were “my cousin and I flew all the way from L.A. for this,” and one group of women who relentlessly tried cutting no less than 4 separate times, who kept saying “no, no, no, you don’t understand, we were here before.” Myself and a few other women in the first 20 people basically took turns fighting people off and telling them where the end of the line was. Most people tried to save face and feign ignorance, as if they didn’t understand they’d cut in front of the beginning of the line, quickly taking the L and going to the back. Others (like the group of women who tried 4 times) were determined for their wills to prevail over ours. They were destined to fail as obviously, those of us who were the type of person to have planned so much better than them and arrived so much earlier, had much stronger wills.

On the fourth and final time that I had to argue with this group of women, I told them that they were not going to accomplish their goal, and they needed to leave without coming back another time. Another woman told them that everyone knew what they were trying to do, no one was going to let it happen, and they needed to give it up. This finally prompted one of the group of attempted cutters to snap, yelling at both of us that “we didn’t work there” and that she “was sick of our voices.” I responded by saying “then move, bitch, and you won’t have to hear us anymore.” This was the only time I cursed or lost my cool at someone, but I must say it was a great line and it had the desired effect—they finally left for good.

But I have to say that my absolute favorite thing was seeing the fully suited-up attorneys who started coming onto the floor one by one around 12pm, trying the “attorney observation” line that my husband had (rightfully) mocked me for thinking would work. At least I went in on Tuesday and tried it ahead of time—not even I have the cojones to think I could pull that at 12pm the day of the hearing with over a hundred people in line. I could hear their impassioned pleas, trying so hard with the security guards.

“I was just downstairs for a hearing and wanted to observe…”

“But I’m an attorney…”

“I’m here for work, I’m a lawyer…”

“Surely I don’t have to wait in the general public line, I’m an attorney…”

Words cannot describe the full extent of the joy, satisfaction, and schadenfreude I felt as each and every one of them was invariably told exactly what I was told on Tuesday by the more blunt security guard: “Sorry, no one gives a shit if you’re a lawyer, it doesn’t mean anything for this line.” It still brings such warmth to my heart even now, recalling the look on their faces. The whole trip may have all been worth it just for that, honest to God. They were so sad in their little suits as they mouthed to each other “this is crazy” and “no way we’re getting in.” Indeed—to both sentiments.

There weren’t all jerks trying to cut in line, though. There were many wonderful, kind, compassionate people there as well, who were happy for those of us in the front, knew they were not going to get inside, but stayed all day for the experience, the camaraderie, and to show their support for Luigi. One such person, a woman who also had flown from Souther California, approached our group to congratulate us on the job well done fighting off the others. She raised the sleeve of her hot pink t-shirt that read “Mind Your Own Uterus” to reveal a huge, floral shoulder tattoo in which the words “Deny,” “Depose,” “Defend,” hand been inked into the petals. This reveal prompted several others in line to show me their Luigi-themed tattoos.

I have to say, I felt a bit inadequate for a second there. “But wait a second,” I heard my inner voice say… “you’re the one getting into this hearing.” It was like an internal Lord of the Rings, King Rohan moment: Remind me who I am! You are the only attorney getting in this courtroom today! (Well, at least the only one who isn’t on the actual defense or prosecution team.)

In total, five different reporters interviewed me from the line. One said NBC, one said CBS, one said Fox 5, one said TMZ, and another said he was a freelancer writing a book with Simon & Schuster. They all asked the same question: Why are you here? I answered all of them the same way—by asking them to look around, and tell me if they’d ever seen anything like this before. “No,” they’d say, “Never.”

“That’s why I’m here, I wanted to see it with my own eyes.”

III: KFA’s Arrival and The Final Countdown to 2:15pm

One of the most heart-racing and exciting moments of the afternoon was when Luigi’s attorney, Karen Friedman Agnifilo (KFA) arrived on the 15th floor around 1:45pm. The instant the elevators opened, we could see hundreds of flashes going off at the press area that was positioned directly in front of the elevators to catch everyone as they entered the courtroom. I knew it had to be KFA, because they would not be bringing Luigi in this early in front of all of the general public. Soon, I could see KFA walking towards us, towards the end of the hallway where the clerk’s office was, surrounded by security guards and police officers on each side of her.

When everyone realized it was her, the entire floor erupted into thunderous applause and cheering! The energy in that hallway was unlike anything I’ve ever felt. KFA walked down the full length of the hallway, to cheers and clapping the entire way. And I have to say…it looked like she was absolutely fucking loving it. Her face had the expression that I imagine was on mine watching all those lawyers get turned away by the security guards—a mix of well-deserved pride and satisfaction.

Someone who was absolutely NOT effing loving it, however, was who I gathered to be the main security guard in charge. I base this presumption on nothing other than the fact he was the only one who screamed and yelled at KFA as well as all of the members of the public, chastising both her and us. He yelled to KFA “Counsel, have some respect! This is a courtroom! You’re not going to do this here!” Before turning his wrath upon us, shouting that “if that happens again I will clear this entire floor and not a single person will get inside! Show some respect! Have some decorum!”

This threat shut everyone up really quickly, and the whole episode brought everyone who had been seated on the floor or a bench to their feet. We still had about a half hour to go, but the adrenaline was pumping, the energy was bursting with anxious anticipation and the excitement that had been mounting all day. Everyone was now on their feet, and those of us in the first 20-24 people began gathering our belongings so there would be no delay when they were ready to lead us in.

For the remaining 25 minutes, every time the elevator doors opened, the press area went crazy with flashes hoping to catch Luigi being brought in—only to keep getting photos of the same four bald police officers over and over again. Chelsea Manning was among the members of the general public line who, if I had to guess, would say was somewhere around number 60-70ish in line. She, too, had arrived fully suited up, but appeared to know she was not going to make it inside. A few of us humorously discussed whether anyone would give up their seat for her, concluding that she was one of the few people we’d entertain the thought for, but no.

Finally, the moment was upon us, and the police and security guards summoned our section, The Front of The Line, from behind the podium and roped area where we had been waiting since they let us inside at 8am. I have to say that I was a bit unprepared for how it felt to walk through that gauntlet of press cameras. It was a bit intimidating, to say the least. I don’t know how people get used to that; I tried to keep my head down and walk as quickly as possible through it. We were ushered into the very back two rows on of the left side of the courtroom (facing the front), and the last row on the right side. By my count, less than 24 made it inside. I believe it was between 20-22, but I could have miscounted. I am the short one with glasses, red backpack, wearing a blanket as a dress.

IV: The Hearing

It all worked out such that I was seated at the closest possible seat to the entrance/exit of the courtroom, and the group who had cut in front when we went through the metal detectors (causing me to go from #5 to #12), had much worse seats with a terrible view. Luigi was brought within 3 feet of me, directly in front of me, on both his entrance and exit. Once we were allowed in, the entire hallway was cleared of all remaining members of the public. They did not permit anyone to stay on the floor, and waited until it was fully emptied before Luigi was escorted into the courtroom.

Everyone has seen the photographs by now, but he was wearing a similar outfit to his December 23rd hearing, just with different colors. This time he wore a dark, forrest green sweater (instead of a maroon one) over a white collared shirt, with khaki/light colored slacks. Luigi sported the now famous, light brown leather loafers with no socks. He was completely shackled hand & foot, in addition to having a bulletproof vest on top of his sweater.

There were two police officers on each side of him, four total who each had their hands on either his arms or his shoulders as they brought him from the elevator through the courtroom doors and to the defense table on the left of the courtroom to join his attorneys.

I’m going to block quote my own previous description of him from my Recap post of my week in NYC leading up to the hearing:

Imagine that I’m placing my hands on your shoulders and looking deeply into your eyes, the fate of the world and all of humankind depending on what I’m about to tell you…take a deep breath…and hear me: He is even more handsome in person!

I know this may be difficult to believe or accept for some, but I assure you that it is the truth. To quote Jesus, “He that hath ears to hear, let him hear!” Luigi Mangione is More. Handsome. In. Person. His hair had grown longer and even more luxurious. His brows were the brows of the Roman Gods of his ancestors. He was taller than both of the guards who held each of his arms, he has to be at least 6’1’’. His jawline, 5 o’clock shadow, and lips, were out of a Caravaggio painting.

This hearing was very different from any hearing I’ve attended in the past. This case continues to defy legal norms in ways that even seasoned criminal defense lawyers like KFA find astonishing.

Luigi Shackled For Entire Hearing

The first order of business was a request from KFA for her client to be unshackled during the hearing. The judge denied the request, citing unspecified “security concerns.” KFA pressed the issue, making an impassioned plea about the prejudicial nature of the optics of Luigi remaining shackled the entire hearing. She argued that he had been a model prisoner, with no disciplinary infractions. KFA further stated that she meets with him multiple times per week at the Metropolitan Detention Center (MDC) in Brooklyn, where he is not shackled during those visits. Moreover, the courtroom was packed with at least 30 armed officers, standing at nearly every row. What possible security risk did he pose?

Judge Carro dismissed her arguments again without addressing them directly, vaguely implying that law enforcement itself had insisted he remain shackled. No explanation was given beyond “security concerns.”

At this point, KFA formally placed her objections on the record. She reiterated that Mangione was being subjected to extremely unusual and prejudicial treatment, stating outright that in her 30 years of practice, she had never seen anything like it.

Of course, the denial of Luigi’s shackles being removed resulted in one of the most iconic photos of American legal and pop cultural history:

The Prosecution’s Continued Delays in Discovery

The hearing then moved to the discovery dispute, which has been a major point of contention. The prosecution has been granted two separate extensions to turn over evidence to the defense. And yet, at the time of this hearing, they had still not turned over the bulk of it.

Prosecutor Kaplan was the first to speak, attempting to spin the situation to make it sound as though substantial evidence had been produced. He stated that a hard drive had been turned over to the defense on January 24, but was indeterminate about its contents. From what little detail he provided, it sounded to me like some security footage from Pennsylvania and heavily redacted civilian witness statements. Kaplan then stated that just that morning, shortly before the hearing, the People had turned over some redacted search warrants and affidavits.

KFA was not having it.

She launched into a devastating rebuttal, making it clear that Kaplan’s statement was misleading at best. She argued that his answers were legally untenable, and the prosecution’s delays were not normal or justifiable under the law. Then, in what was perhaps the most shocking revelation of the hearing to me, she stated that the defense had still not been given access to the so-called “manifesto” (which KFA referred to instead as a “journal”), which the prosecution itself has repeatedly cited as crucial evidence.

Think about that for a moment.

The NYPD Chief of Police and Mayor Eric Adams have already participated in a 40-minute HBO documentary, where they hired actors to read excerpts of this “manifesto.” They have made it available to the public in a highly produced and edited format—but have still not turned it over to Luigi’s defense team.

KFA obliterated the prosecution on this point. She called it a gross miscarriage of justice—one so egregious that it called into question the entire integrity of the case. How could the state justify giving evidence to a television network before the defendant’s own attorneys had seen it? This means paid actors received copies of the prosecution’s key evidence before the accused’s defense attorney has.

Suddenly, loud cheering, yelling, clapping, and chanting could be heard from outside.

“Luigi! Luigi! Luigi!”

“Free Luigi! Free Free Luigi!”

It was coming from the 1-4pm protest rally going on outside the courthouse. You could clearly hear them from the inside, but only briefly, as they quieted down after the second chant—as if ordered to by police.

Pattern of Withholding Evidence

KFA then moved beyond the “manifesto” and detailed how the defense has received very little evidence from law enforcement. Despite claims that there were “thousands of hours” of security footage, the defense had received almost none of it. At this point, Prosecutor Kaplan interrupted to state that this was not true—they had turned over evidence from the Altoona Police Department.

KFA immediately shut this down, clarifying that the only thing they had received from Altoona PD was one single bodycam recording, from one officer at the McDonald’s arrest location. There had been at least 12 officers on scene, yet only one bodycam had been provided. The angle, she explained, was useless—it showed nothing relevant.

Furthermore, KFA stated that the search of Luigi’s car at the McDonald’s was not legal, and that she had still not received paperwork for the search warrant. NOTE: The next ten sentences have been revised to better reflect exactly what I heard. There is no mention in either the NY state or the federal criminal complaint of a car, or of Luigi renting or driving a car. However, I distinctly heard KFA refer to the Altoona police “coming in from the car.”

Now, it is possible that KFA misspoke, or that she meant the police cars and not necessarily Luigi’s car, but I heard the word car said. And KFA seemed to me to be implying that the police had recovered a trove of incriminating evidence from somewhere other than Luig’s person, somewhere she was implying they did not have the right to search. She kept saying that the defense had not been provided with the paperwork showing the proper warrants were obtained and probable cause existed for the search that resulted in the claimed bag of evidence with the “manifesto” and “ghost gun.”

If they had all been on him, on his person, there should have been no issue with probable cause, as there was a national manhunt underway for him and the complaint states he was recognized by a McDonald’s employee and the police. So, it did sound to me as if the defense was indicating the bag had been brought in from the outside somewhere. Whether they think that was by the police from their police car, I don’t know, and that’s why KFA wants to see all 12 officers from the Altoona arrest’s bodycams.

In my opinion, whether there was another car or KFA was only referring to the police coming inside from their police cars, if the bag was taken anywhere or searched in any outside location, this opens the door to the possibility the evidence was planted. This was not officially alleged by anyone at the hearing, that’s just my own speculation, and where my mind would be going if I were on his defense team. It sounded to me like KFA was questioning some sort of chain of custody issue withe the bag, and indicating that it may not have been searched inside the McDonald’s in Luigi’s presence.

Kaplan, his voice sounding a bit hesitant, responded that they were still “redacting” evidence and that they needed two more weeks to finish the process. KFA was not impressed with answer, and stated for the record that the prosecution had spent months reviewing, organizing, and redacting evidence, yet expected the defense to be able to review it in time for the next motion hearing if they provided it to the defense in two more weeks.

KFA is very good at the performance aspect of being a great attorney. I mean that as a great compliment, it’s kind of the hardest part for a lot of us. You can have a great legal mind or be a great legal writer and even be above average or highly competent at public speaking + persuasion and be a great lawyer. KFA has all of those, the experience of someone who worked as a federal prosecutor for nearly three decades, and she is great at the performance of giving the courtroom exactly what people picture when they imagine a zealous advocate who truly believes in the injustice being committed against their client. Her every sentence and the tone in which she speaks convey exactly what you would want your attorney to convey if you were the one in Luigi’s chair, handcuffed at your wrists and ankles with a bulletproof vest on.

“The sooner we schedule it, Counsel, the sooner you can have your suppression hearing.”

At this point, the discussion shifted to scheduling the next motion hearing. I guess I should briefly explain what a motion hearing is. A motion hearing is when the judge considers legal requests (motions) from the prosecution or defense that could significantly impact the case. These motions can request things like suppressing evidence, dismissing charges, compelling discovery, or modifying bail or custody conditions.

This hearing on 2/21 was a motion hearing, where significant discovery was supposed to be turned over to the defense. KFA was objecting to the scheduling of the next motion hearing with the bulk of the evidence still not having been turned over by the prosecution. KFA objected to scheduling anything until the defense had received the full discovery. She argued that moving forward prematurely would be unfair and a violation of Mangione’s due process rights.

Prosecutor Kaplan then spoke, reminding the Judge that he had already stated the redacting was ongoing but that they would turn it over in two weeks. Judge Carro ruled against KFA’s opposition to the next motion hearing being scheduled, under the rationale that she would have the evidence in two weeks, and if the prosecution blew that deadline, she could make the appropriate motions for another extension at that time. KFA accepted his decision in a professional and deferential manner, but stated for the record anyway that she remained concerned that the timeline was unrealistic, given the sheer volume of evidence that had not yet been disclosed.

Judge Carro then said something I agreed with, which was to tell KFA that he understands why she wants to delay the next motion hearing, but if they do that, it just delays the point at which she can have her suppression hearing. A suppression hearing is a pre-trial hearing that happens once the defense team has received and reviewed all the evidence provided to them by the prosecution, in which the defense argues for the suppression (inadmissibility) of an any evidence that was either obtained illegally or violates the client’s Constitutional rights. You want the case to keep moving in a timely manner, there is a Constitutional right to a speedy and public trial, and you don’t want to cause unnecessary delay. At the same time, KFA and team need adequate time to review the evidence so they can submit the appropriate motions in time for the next hearing.

Judges are skilled at being neutral, which is difficult for a lot of us with strong opinions one way or another. He did the most neutral and fair thing he could do, which is give the prosecution the two weeks to get it in as they claimed they would in their oral and written filings today, schedule the next motion hearing so that the whole hearing wasn’t a huge waste of time, but warn the prosecution that if they don’t get it in in those two weeks, the defense will be filing motions to delay the next motion hearing that he would be sympathetic to.

My official prediction is that the prosecution will turn over some of the NYPD and NY FBI evidence, in highly redacted form, but still but turn over all of it, which will prompt KFA to file motions to compel as well as motions to extend the date of the next hearing.

A Stunning Exchange Over Federal Custody: “There’s not even an indictment.”

Then, one of the biggest surprises for me of the hearing happened. Judge Carro turned to Prosecutor Kaplan and asked why Mangione was still being held in federal custody at MDC Brooklyn.

Judge Carro seemed under the impression that the state had been working on a deal with the federal prison to transfer Mangione to state custody, since the state prosecution was set to move forward first. At this moment, KFA turned and locked eyes on Kaplan. She gave one of the hardest death stares towards the prosecution table I’ve ever seen in a courtroom.

Kaplan visibly hesitated, it was clear something had been communicated to the Judge that had not been communicated to KFA or the rest of Luigi’s legal team. Kaplan then stated, in a much lower voice than he had previously spoken, that while the state trial was proceeding first, there were currently no plans to transfer Mangione to state custody.

Judge Carro did not like this answer. It was clear that he had been told something different by someone. The judge repeated his question—but Kaplan had the same automatic, verbatim response. That’s when Judge Carro dropped the bombshell that had been at the back of my mind this entire time:

“You are not even holding him on an indictment. There is still no indictment. You’re holding him in federal custody on just a complaint.”

To those unfamiliar with federal criminal law, this might not seem significant. But it is. Federal prosecutors had been given two extensions to obtain an indictment, and they still had not done so. A grand jury indictment is one of the easiest things to get—hence the famous saying that a prosecutor “could indict a ham sandwich.”

The fact that they still have not secured an indictment suggests major problems with their case to me. It suggests to me that they need way more time than they realized to very carefully edit, redact, and curate the evidence they present to the grand jury, which may be difficult if there is a lot of contradictory or exculpatory evidence, which legally must be turned over to the defense.

This exchange about Luigi still being held on nothing but a complaint in federal custody led to Judge Carro calling a sidebar, where KFA & Kaplan, each with another attorney from their team, approached the bench.

A Chaotic Ending

After an approximately seven-minute sidebar with both legal teams, the attorneys returned to their desks, and KFA made one final plea: for just two moments alone with Luigi, as they had not been given that, and she needed to speak to him for at least two minutes alone without the presence of police officers. This caused the rows of his general public supporters (of which I belonged) to exchange looks with each other. As a lawyer, it is unfathomable to me to hear that they have yet to be given even two minutes purely alone with each other.

Judge Carro seemed a bit taken aback, I think because of how bad it sounded, but he was not moved to oblige her with time in a private room or the judges quarters. He told her that she’d have to “do it now,” meaning try to get a quick two minutes in with him at the defense desk in a public courtroom before the police escorts came to take him.

The hearing then ended quite abruptly, and something that stood out to me greatly was that there was no formal calling of an end to the hearing. In California, all matters that are called in front of a magistrate are officially called to order and put on the record, and when the hearing is over, the matter is officially adjourned or closed, and that is stated for the record.

Judge Carro didn’t formally close the proceedings, he set what sounded to me like June 26th as the next motion hearing, with what I think I heard as May 15th for a deadline for motions to be filed. Then he simply stood up and left with no announcement or statement closing the hearing and taking it off the record.

When I relayed this to my husband (who is also a lawyer), he immediately said that he would put money on the fact that they didn’t formally call the hearing to an end so that they could record or listen to whatever was said between KFA & Luigi in those two minutes, and later claim that it was not off the record because the official record hadn’t been called to a close. That thought had not independently occurred to me, but I find it highly plausible and not at all difficult to believe.

At this time Luigi was hauled out by officers, handled roughly, his arms held tightly on both sides. As he was led past the two rows of public supporters, he briefly made eye contact with our row, and with me. I tried to give my best reassuring smile that wasn’t creepy, something that I hoped would say “stay strong” —or something like that.

I don’t know how to explain how I feel about him, it’s not romantic in any way. It’s sort of like a defensive sibling or cousin, who is also a lawyer. That doesn’t mean I don’t have eyes and can’t see how, to quote Zoolander, “really, really, ridiculously good looking” he is. It’s just mind boggling to me as someone with a giant Sicilian-American family that he with all those cousins, aunts, uncles, etc. he doesn’t have a single family member supporting him. Not a single one even saying, “hey, you know, he’s innocent until proven guilty.” This is another red flag for my spidey-senses, that I have another article coming out about soon.

He didn’t smile in any way when he entered or left the courtroom, but he gave our row what I would describe as a solemn acknowledgment in recognition of those who had come to see how the proceedings were unfolding in person. He did also look at one of the rows of general public on the other side, but I could not see the facial expression he gave them as his head was turned to them.

He looked towards them, towards us, and then he was gone.

The police officers cleared the courtroom as quickly as possible while keeping it orderly, and we once again had to walk through a gauntlet of press with flashing camera lights on the way out to the elevators.

A mentioned earlier, there had been a protest scheduled in Luigi’s support at 1pm outside the courthouse, which of course I was not able to attend when it was at it’s busiest since I was waiting inside to gain entrance to the hearing, then attending the hearing. There were still quite a few people at the protest by the time I got out to the front and exited on Centre St., and I walked around talking to various supporters.

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