By Joi-Marie McKenzie
A court officer walks off of the elevator of the Kings County Courthouse onto the 19th floor. “Do you want a table for that,” he asks William Martin, a defense attorney.
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“Oh no. I’m fine. I don’t want to get too comfortable,” Martin replies. The officer chuckles loudly and walks into a courtroom.
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At 2 p.m., Martin is finally taking his lunch. Wearing a yellow polka dot bow tie and grey suit, he hunches over, slurping noodle soup. He sneezes and grabs a tissue to wipe his nose.
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On one end of the hallway is a breathtaking view of the Brooklyn Bridge. Martin sits close to the window to take in the view while reading The New York Times. On the other end of the hallway is the courtroom where his client Marien Theophile Mbossa Kargu, 40, will learn his fate.
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Kargu, a native of the Republic of Congo, was charged with killing Antonio Guzzardi, 34, in September, 2001 by beating him to death in an apartment they shared with their girlfriends in Sunset Park. He was convicted of manslaughter in the second degree.
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Martin has argued that the death was an accident—a heated argument gone too far. Kargu discovered that Guzzardi had been giving his girlfriend, Melle Leila Grison, cocaine. At this sentencing hearing, Martin hopes to convince the judge to give Kargu the minimum sentence of five years in prison.
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Martin’s phone rings and interrupts his lunch. He chats briefly about hiring a new receptionist then rushes off of the line.
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“I have a sentencing and I need to get my notes together,” he explains.
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Martin picks up his brown leather folder and walks with a slight limp toward the courtroom. He meets the French interpreter who will help his client understand the proceedings. Martin sits outside the courtroom with him, refining his statement and going over his notes.?He coaches the interpreter as he reads aloud a letter from Kargu’s family. He hopes this letter will help humanize his client. Martin places his hand on the interpreter’s back.
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“Hold on because you’re going to have to read this on the stand,” he says to the interpreter, who continues to read the letter in a thick French accent.
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At 2:35 p.m., Judge Raymond Guzman has called the court to order. Martin takes his place, standing behind the wooden table with matching chairs. His client, Kargu, is brought in by three court officers’ moments later. His hands are cuffed behind his back. Wearing a dark green sweater with a collared shirt paired with jeans, Kargu seems calm. One of the officers unlocks the handcuffs and motions for Kargu to take a seat. Martin looks over to his client and gives him a light pat on his back.
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Assistant District Attorney Melissa Carvajal reads a letter from the victim’s father: “Angelo deserved a better life than to end up in a garbage dump.”
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Guzzardi’s decomposed body was discovered in a nearby dumpster on Sept. 6 2001. Because of the events of Sept. 11, Guzzardi’s body wasn’t identified until the following January, nearly four months later. His family, living in Sicily, worried about their son and hoped he wasn’t killed with the thousands of others on 9/11. Guzzardi’s family could not attend the hearing because of financial reasons but they hoped their letter would suffice.
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Martin sits on the other side of the courtroom with his legs folded. When Judge Guzman asks for his statement Martin stands up. He notes that several of the statements made by Carvajal, the prosecutor, were inaccurate. He wants to correct them for the record.
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“This is not the act of a cold calculated individual,” he says. “He panicked, pure and simple.” The French interpreter reads two letters from Kargu’s family, who lives in Paris. Martin continues.
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“What kind of person is this that would care about if a person walked down the road to drug addiction?” he says. He closes with the Latin phrase: Fiat justitia ruat caelum. It means, Martin explains, “Let justice be done if the heavens must fall.”
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Judge Guzman asks if Kargu wants to make a statement. The interpreter mumbles the question into his ear. Martin leans over intently, trying to understand. After a moment, the translator answers, “He said, ‘Not really.’”
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Guzman says that while the defense asserts the killing was an accident, “There was never a moment where he said I’m sorry.” He sentences him to five to fifteen years in prison.
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After another moment, Kargu drops his head. Martin grabs his client.
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