Latest News

Today’s testimony consisted solely of that of Trent Benefield, one of the three men shot by police detectives in Sean Bell’s car on the morning of 11/25/06.

Honestly, Mr. Benefield was not what I was expecting, after seeing Anthony South‘s on-the-scene footage of him handcuffed from behind and lying on the ground on his stomach screaming of pain in his legs and at paramedics that they were hurting him as they placed him onto a stretcher. Of course he was in serious pain at that point (when asked today by prosecutor Testagrossa on a scale of 1-10 how much pain he was in, he said “15”; the audience laughed), so his screams were understandable.

But today he was extremely well-mannered, very soft-spoken, very nervous-seeming, and very unimposing and unthreatening. No wonder several earlier eyewitnesses never even saw him get into Sean Bell’s car that night; he’s a small, quiet guy who could easily have gone unnoticed. Overall, Benefield seemed honest, at times admitting things against his interest (like having a marijuana addiction and being drunk when leaving the club that night), but because he was intoxicated and somewhat high, his ability to observe and remember events that evening were hindered. Also, he seemed sensitive, and because of the obvious stressfulness of the events, seems not to have seen it all. In any event, there were some real inconsistencies in his testimony.

A small, thin man, Mr. Benefield, 24 years old, had no prior covinctions, and, while currently unemployed, had formerly worked in a tire shop repairing tires. He had known Sean Bell for 6 or 7 years, and had met him through his lifelong friends, Johnell Hankerson (I can’t always hear very well in the courtroom, and may have spelled his name wrong earlier), and Joe Guzman (the other man in the car, whom I expect to testify tomorrow).

Benefield went to Kalua with Sean and James Kollore, in Sean’s Altima. After Sean parked and the three were getting ready to go inside, a police officer pulled up and asked Sean for his driver’s license and registration, which Sean gave him. After inspecting both, the officer returned them to Sean and told him to have a nice day.

After being frisked by the bouncer, the three ordered a round of Long Island Ice Teas, then went to the back of the club, where they were joined by others. Throughout the night, Benefield had three such drinks (though he’d told officers at the hospital, when medicated, that he had Hennesseys instead of Long Island Ice Teas), as well as two blunts of marijuana, which he smoked outside with Bone. Though admitting he had a marijuana addiction, Benefield only used, never sold, the drug. Benefield said he was “intoxicated” and “feeling nice” but not “high” from the marijuana when he and the Bell group left the club, around 3:40-3:45 a.m.

Benefield and his friend Larenzo Kinred were the last of the group to leave the club, as Benefield wanted to finish his drink. By the time he left, everyone was already outside. When he walked out, he saw Coicou standing in front of his SUV holding his right hand in his pocket as if pointing something, making Benefield think he had a gun. Benefield had told District Attorneys when meeting with them shortly after the shooting that Coicou said, “I got it; it’s in my pocket. I’ll shoot you.” He heard Coicou say to Guzman that he was from “Far Rock,” and Guzman respond that he was from Far Rockaway too. He didn’t hear anyone use the word “gun” or any slang for the word, and never saw Hankerson put his arm around Sean and tell him to calm down, as Hankerson testified he did. He never saw Sean return to the club to retrieve his hat.

They all began to walk toward Liverpool Street. As they rounded the corner, Coicou drove up, went past them, and made a right down Liverpool. The men continued on, Guzman, Sean Bell, and Benefield all getting into Sean’s car. Sean got into the driver’s seat, Guzman the passenger front, and Benefield the driver’s-side back seat, behind Sean. All car windows were closed; Benefield never saw Sean speaking with Hankerson through the window. Nor did he remember talking to Marseillas Payne, or her calling out to him from her car, as she’d said she did.

As soon as Bell started his car, Benefield suddenly saw a man (Det. Isnora) approach the car, holding a gun. He came right up to Sean, pointing his gun at Sean, and, since he was sitting directly behind him, Benefield as well. Benefield immediately covered his face with his hands, including his eyes. He saw nothing more, though he heard Guzman call out, “Go, go, drive, go.” He felt Sean step on the gas and felt the car “bump” something. It’s unclear whether the “bump” — Benefield’s word — was the car hitting Isnora or hitting the police minivan. The next thing Benefield remembered was hearing shots fired in rapid succession, with no pause. It was about two seconds between the collision, or bump, and the shots beginning. Benefield never heard Isnora say anything, and never saw anything on him (ie: a badge) to indicate who he was (ie: an officer)

Feeling himself get shot in both calves, Benefield reached over, opened the back driver’s side car door, and began running south, down Liverpool Street. As he ran, he was shot again, in the thigh, right below the right buttock. All officers who’ve testified at trial, or whose Grand Jury testimony we’ve heard, have said they saw Benefield running down the street but didn’t fire at him because they saw he was unarmed, so this testimony is interesting. I’d surmised Friday that it looked from one of the CSU detective’s diagrams like the shot that eventually went into Mrs. Rodrigues’s house appeared to have been fired from way down the street, not at all near Bell’s car, and that, unless it just ricocheted weirdly off of something else, someone may have shot at Benefield. Unfortunately, that bullet entered and exited his thigh, and, I think — unless it had blood on it and the blood could be traced to Benefield — we can’t tell which bullet that was. So, it may be impossible ever to know for certain who fired that shot.

And, Benefield said that he fell immediately after he was shot, which would have been further down near the end of the street, not in front of the Rodrigues house. So, that bullet must have been a bullet other than the one that went into her house. Unless of course, he just doesn’t remember cleary. Extremely complicated crime scene.

Anyway, after he fell to the ground, Benefield looked up to see a tall, dark, heavy-set man (Det. Headley, from the Camry) approaching him with a gun. He saw nothing on him to indicate he was an officer, and, seeing the gun, was scared. Headley told him to “stay down.” Benefield responded, “I didn’t do nothing. I got shot.” Someone told him to put his hands behind his back, and handcuffed him. He repeated that he was shot and needed help. Soon, EMS workers arrived to take him to the hospital, removing his clothing. He identified by photo all clothing found at the scene, besides the gloves and hat, as his. When asked on cross if the marijuana found near those items was his as well, and he said no, there were grumbles in the courtroom and the court officers swifty told everyone to be quiet. (Jean Nelson had testified earlier that the marijuana was his). Benefield didn’t remember cursing at police officers at the scene or getting angry at the hospital over the whereabouts of his jacket (an officer earlier testified, Benefield said, “go fuck yourself,” when he asked him for information and another officer said he’d got upset upon learning his clothing was missing.)

Benefield was at the hospital for 9-10 days, recuperating from the three gunshot wounds. He sustained a permanent injury to his calf: the metal rod holding the bone together. Unable to work since, he lived on payments from a charity organization and a bank loan. At the hospital, he learned the shooters were police officers. There is currently pending a $50 million civil suit against the city, of which he is a part.

The main problem in Benefield’s testimony is that he said he’d heard only one bump followed almost immediately by shots. But he’d told interviewing officers at the hospital about an hour and a half after the shooting that Bell’s car hit something, then reversed and crashed into something else, then sped forward again and crashed a third time: “my man, trying to get away, backed up into another car, then go forward.” Not knowing how to rectify the inconsistencies, he said he must have been mistaken in the hospital; that he “made up” that Bell’s car had reversed, hit something else, then crashed again. The officers taped their conversation with Benefield at the hospital, and that tape was played in court; Benefield acknowledged the voice on it was his.

On cross examination, defense counsels James Cullerton (for Det. Oliver) and Anthony Ricco (representing Det. Isnora) focused a bit on Benefield’s marijuana habit. Cullerton asked Benefield how he paid for it, saying sarcastically, “I take it you make a large amount of money working for the tire maker.” Benefield said he paid for the marijuana with money he earned, and that he didn’t know exactly how much of the money he’d received from the charity organization went for marijuana. And, after he said he must have “made up” the sequence of events to the officer in the hospital, Ricco asked Benefiel how much “reefer” he’d had that morning. Laughs emanated from the second two rows of the defense side of the courtroom (where all the officers sit). A court officer immediately yelled, “Quiet!”, which made me happy because at least everyone’s getting yelled at for making noise, not just those on the prosecution side.

I still found Benefield to be sympathetic, despite inconsistencies between his testimony and what he’d told the officers at the hospital that morning. It was a meaningless inconsistency for one thing — it doesn’t really make a difference whether Sean backed up and went forward again, does it??? It all happened extremely fast. I felt like Benefield was kind of caught on the spot after they played the tape recording of him talking to the officers in the hospital and the inconsistency was glaringly there, and then he didn’t really know what to say, so said he “made it up”. Did Testagrossa not adequately prep him for trial? And, then, all the questions about his marijuana smoking, which he admitted to doing, after all. Again, he’s being made, unnecessarily, into the bad guy, when the poor guy was shot after all and has a metal rod in his leg for life. Yes, the marijuana likely dulled his senses on the morning of the shooting, reducing his observational capacities and calling into question his memory of the events. But is he a liar because he has an addiction, which he may sometimes pay for with borrowed money?

I know the lawyers are doing their jobs, and they’re doing a superb job of pointing out significant inconstencies between witnesses’ trial testimonies and prior Grand Jury testimony or statements made to officers or DAs. But there is definitely something to the Bell family’s claim that the tables are being turned and the prosecution witnesses (and perhaps the black community, or at least a certain segment of it) are being put on trial here with all the focus on the rap lyrics, the 10+-year-old prior convictions, the marijuana habits. Regarding all of this, by the way, there’s a good but too short article in today’s NYTimes by Michael Wilson on Anthony Ricco, the black attorney who’s arguably attacking black prosecution witnesses in order to defend black defendant Gescard Isnora.

Friday was another short day. There was only one witness, another CSU detective, Michael Cunningham, whose testimony really only pertained to the reckless endangerment counts against Detective Cooper for the bullet that went into the Air Train station, and Detective Oliver for the bullet that went into the house on Liverpool Street.

Cunningham returned to the scene in June 2007, over six months after the shooting, to try to re-do all of the measurements and create a new map of the trajectories of the bullets that pierced the Air Train station, Mrs. Rodrigues‘s living room window, and Mr. Hernandez‘s fence. Cunningham had to do this because, after examining measurements done by prior CSU detectives, he realized there was no way some of the previously projected trajectories could be correct. For example, according to Detective Anzalone‘s measurements and trajectory tracings of the bullet that pierced the Air Train station, the shooter would have had to been standing several blocks further South from where the shooting actually happened (unless he was the 14-foot-tall shooter from previous cross examination testimony).

The problem is, by the time Cunningham returned to the scene to re-do the measurements, things were very different: the Air Train station’s windows had been fixed (so, obviously, the original bullet holes were gone), and Liverpool Street had been re-paved, making the curbside, street levels, and other measurements different from what they had been at the time of the shooting.

Nevertheless, Cunningham tried, using photographs of the scene and video stills from Anthony South‘s footage. He took more measurements and, using Crime Scene Unit computer software, drew some 3-D diagrams of the whole scene which were shown in court.

Cunningham found another bullet impact mark in the Air Train station, and traced its path to a point on Liverpool Street, this one on the block of the shooting. But this new placing is in a location nowhere near the point where Cooper said he shot from (and we know it’s his bullet which pierced that Air Train window). Not that Cooper couldn’t have exaggerated his position, been wrong about it, or even have outright lied, but the new placing doesn’t make much sense; according to the 3-D diagram, it was out in the middle of the street, not near any car, or any place where Cooper would have had cover. Cooper said he had crouched down inside the Camry, opened its door, stepped out with one foot, and, peeking around the car door using it for cover, fired at Bell’s Altima’s back window. But according to Cunningham’s new measurements, as shown on the 3-D diagram, Cooper would have been standing up, out in the middle of the street, shooting. Shell casings were found both in the Camry and in the street.

The diagram also showed the path of Oliver’s bullet that pierced Mrs. Rodrigues’s window. According to that diagram, its trajectory was a straight line to a point smack in the middle of the block, where no one was supposedly standing, far away from where Bell’s Altima was. I’d thought — and I thought that CSU detectives had surmised as well — that that bullet missed the Altima and went into her house instead, but according to this diagram, her house was nowhere even close to Bell’s Altima. Cunningham had no explanation for this. When asked on cross examination whether that bullet could have ricocheted from another point, after hitting some kind of hard surface, then changed direction and gone into her window, he said it was possible. Either that’s what must have happened — the bullet ricocheted, someone was shooting at Benefield as he ran down the street (which none of the eyewitnesses have testified happened, but we haven’t heard from Benefield yet), or else the diagram simply isn’t accurate.

In any event, the CSU evidence all seems to have created more confusion than answers. And people are angry at what seems, at best, to have been careless investigatory work all the way around. Advocacy groups, like 100 Blacks in Law Enforcement Who Care, are asking whether the NYPD may have even intentionally botched this investigation. Retired NYPD Detective Graham Weatherspoon, head of that group, said that Cunningham is known as a very good investigator, but was called in way too late. So, why wasn’t he called in to examine the original crime scene?

Today was short and boring. Everyone is trying hard to be patient in waiting for the testimony of the two main witnesses: Joseph Guzman and Trent Benefield, which the guards outside had told us last week was supposed to happen this week. I hope the prosecution’s not running behind.

Today the court heard only from two witnesses: an optometrist who examined Sean Bell’s eyes about six months before the shooting, and a ballistic expert who compared bullets and shell casings he received from CSU people to bullets from the five detectives’ guns to try to determine which bullets came from which gun.

Dr. Daniel Friedman, a 79-year-old Queens optometrist, examined Sean Bell’s eyes in May 2006. Sean had come to him at that time to possibly buy a contact lens for his right eye. Without a correction, Sean’s vision in that right eye was poorer than 20/400, making him extremely nearsighted in that eye, with an astigmatism as well. The vision in his left eye, however, was 20/30, so only slightly nearsighted. Legal blindness, according to the doctor, was vision worse than 20/200. So, without the correction Sean would have been legally blind in the right eye but not the left. The Department of Motor Vehicles only mandates that one’s vision must be at least 20/40 in one eye, so, because of his left eye, Sean would have been able to obtain a driver’s license and drive legally without a correction. He never bought any corrective lenses from Dr. Friedman.

(But, remember, most of the action in the car that night was happening on Sean’s right side). Also, darkness and alcohol may impair ability to see, as was elicited on cross.

Detective James Valenti, a firearms operability and identification expert, went through painstaking detail listing each of the 89 pieces of ballistic evidence — whole bullets, deformed bullets, bullet fragments, and shell casings (which are discharged near the shooter when the bullet ejects from the weapon) — that he was given by Crime Scene Unit detectives, and which of the detectives’ guns each one likely came from. Valenti was able to identify 15 bullets and 46 casings; 28 bullet fragments were too small for him to be able to perform tests on. Looking cursorily through my vast notes, I count — no, forget it, it’ll take me all night to do that — suffice it to say the vast majority of recovered shell casings and bullets were fired from Oliver’s gun — hardly surprising given that he fired 31 of the 50 shots — the next highest number from Isnora’s, and a couple each from the weapons of Detectives Headley and Cooper and Officer Carey.

One thing Valenti said that caught my attention was that Glock guns — the type used by Detectives Isnora and Cooper — only needed 5 1/2 pounds of exertion on the trigger in order to discharge bullets. But under the current New York Trigger Policy, weapons must have at least 10 pounds of exertion on the trigger in order for them to fire. The current Trigger Policy was enacted in order to prevent accidental discharge. It doesn’t seem like there were any accidental discharges here, but in any event, why is the NYPD still using the Glocks if they’re not compatible with current trigger policy and can fire accidentally?

Also, on cross examination by Paul Martin, Detective Cooper’s attorney, Valenti, who has some training in firing weapons, said he was trained to fire both with two hands and with only one, that latter done in certain circumstances (which he didn’t specify). That’s important since it goes to the reckless endangerment charge against Cooper (for the bullet he fired into the Air Train platform). It made me realize there hasn’t yet been testimony presented by the prosecution on how officers are trained to fire their weapons, which I really want to hear. With Cooper, that kind of testimony is necessary, to show that he didn’t comply, that he was therefore reckless, and that’s why his bullet went askew.

But more generally, I really want to hear how officers are trained to identify a threat and how they’re supposed to deal with it. I’m sure the court is going to get some of this testimony in the defense case, but the prosecution has the burden of proof and should be trying to show that the detectives not only fired, but that they did so in a way that was inconsistent with their training and thus reckless. As I mentioned before, a black female spectator from the NYPD said to me early on in the trial while we were waiting outside, “We need answers; I know how it’s done and this is not it.” At this point, I’m hoping the prosecution plans on trying to show what she said.

Yesterday was relatively mild compared to the day before. The court heard only from two witnesses: the surgeon who performed Sean Bell’s autopsy, Dr. Michael Greenberg, and another of the eyewitnesses to the shooting, Jean Nelson, a seemingly honest man whose testimony was similar to that of Mr. Henkerson, who testified the day before, but with added details.

Sean Bell sustained four wounds, one to the right side of his neck, one to his right shoulder, one to his right torso, and one to his right arm. When Dr. Greenberg began going over the path of each bullet and which organs they penetrated, Mr. and Mrs. Bell and other members of the family left the courtroom, Sean’s mother in tears. The two bullets that caused Sean’s death were the first and third listed above, the one that went into his neck, piercing his larnyx and lodging in his upper arm bone, and the one that went into Sean’s torso, fracturing his rib, abdomen, liver, lung, and lodging in his spine. These numbered bullets, by the way, were randomnly assigned by the doctor; it can’t be determined which struck Sean first. Sean sustained five additional abrasions, but the cause of death was the two gunshot wounds to his neck and torso.

Greenberg also testified that he didn’t see any gunshot residue on any of Mr. Bell’s clothing, which means that the gun’s muzzle must have been fired from over three feet away. An “intervening obstacle,” such as a window, would have prevented any such residue from forming on his clothing (although, as the defense attorneys pointed out on cross, if the passenger-side window was blown out, it wouldn’t have stopped the residue from congealing on the clothes). Mr. Bell’s blood alcohol level was 0.16 grams per deciliter, twice the legal limit. There was no presence of illegal substances in his blood.

Jean Nelson, 28 and married with three children, impressed as sincere and direct; he was there to tell it like it is. He had one prior felony conviction, from 1999, for possessing a firearm, which he had for protection. He also had three misdemeanor convictions, all for marijuana possession. Speaking of which, he was the owner of the bags of marijuana found down the street from the scene.

Mr. Nelson, who wore his hair in an impressively intricate pattern of cornrows (just something I noticed because, seriously, the design was like artwork), had known Sean for 5 or 6 years, meeting him through Mr. Henkerson, whom he’d known all his life. He was a member of the musical group the defense is so interested in, which he and the others had formed to make some money.

He’d gone to a club in Manhattan, “Eugene’s” (where he bought the marijuana), earlier in the night on the 24th, returning to Queens around 3:00 a.m., and meeting up with Henkerson, to go onto Sean’s party. He and Henkerson arrived at Kalua at 3:30, too late to go inside, as the bouncer told them the club was about to close. So the two waited outside for their friends. Soon Coicou pulled up in his SUV and a bit later, the club let out. When Sean left, he and Nelson walked toward the edge of the club where Sean urinated before realizing he’d left something in the club and returned to retrieve it.

When Sean emerged from the club, Nelson heard Coicou say to him, “You can’t do this like that. I got money in there.” Sean asked him what he meant. Soon, Nelson saw Coicou back up with his hands in his vest saying “I’ll shoot you.” James Kollore said, “We’ll take that gun from you.” Sean echoed Kollore, saying, “Yeah, we’ll take that gun from you.”

Nelson walked up to Sean, saying, “come on, you’re getting married tomorrow. You don’t need none of this crap. Let’s go.”

Nelson remembered seeing Detectives Isnora and Sanchez in front of the club, but he paid no attention to them.

Nelson, Sean, and the rest of the group walked down the street to their cars, on Liverpool. On their way, Coicou in his SUV passed them very slowly, stopping at the corner to eye them all. As soon as he passed, he sped up down the street and turned at the next corner. Guzman and Sean proceeded to Sean’s Altima and got inside.

Nelson remembered Lt. Napoli‘s Toyota Camry pass by them and stop mid-block, a little after Sean’s car. Nelson noticed two white men in that car, who looked at him, and he concluded they were police. He remembered the minivan driving onto the street too, and concluded that carried police as well.

He then saw Isnora (whom he’d remembered from the front of the club) walk up to Sean’s Altima, holding a gun in his right hand, pointing it downward. “Yo, let me holla at you,” Isnora said to Sean and Guzman, which, to Nelson, meant, “Let me talk to you.” Though Nelson realized the men in the Camry and the minivan were police, he didn’t assume Isnora was as well.

Sean tried to pull out, nearly running over Isnora. Isnora hopped onto the hood to prevent being “squashed,” and went over the car, landing on the other side. Sean crashed into the minivan, then backed up, running into a wall behind him, before coming forward again, hitting the van. It looked like the Altima was just coasting at that point, and bumped into the van. Nelson then heard shooting. He began running South, dropping his marijuana (which he said was only for personal use) on the way. He looked back once before coming to the corner, and when he did he saw another man, a white man, near the passenger-side door of the Altima pointing a gun at that passenger door.

Nelson continued running, hearing someone behind him say, “oh shit.” He heard bullets piercing the fence of the house he ran past. A couple blocks away, he ran into Kollore and Henkerson, and they returned to the scene, now seeing Benefield on the ground, on his stomach, handcuffed.

On cross, Nelson remembered telling prosecutors during an interview on December 2, 2007, that he thought Sean was drunk, and when he’s drunk he’s “hyper.” He also told them Sean doesn’t like people talking to him “in a smart way.”
Defense counsel Anthony Ricco (Isnora’s attorney) asked Nelson on cross whether it made it a bit “tough” to go back to his neighborhood since his perceptions were “a little different” from his friends’. He said “yes.” After he finished cross examination, Ricco said, “thank you very much and good luck to you.” I’m glad he wasn’t hard on Nelson; there was no reason to be, since he seemed so truthful. So now, after getting so upset with him the day before, I like Ricco again.

Today the court heard from Johmell Henkerson, the brother-in-law of Nicole, Sean Bell’s fiance, and an eyewitness to part of the shooting; and the Grand Jury testimony of defendant Detective Michael Oliver, the detective whom the press has focused on the most, as he fired 31 of the 50 shots, though he was not the first to fire.

Up front, I just have to say, I find it unsettling how the prosecution witnesses are being villified. While a witness’s prior convictions are fodder for cross-examination (because legally the judge may use such priors to determine the witness’s overall credibility), the defense attorneys are questioning, and very harshly, about kinds of inflammatory things that have little to no relevance to this case: the witness’s belonging to a rap group in which he created songs about “thug” life (since when is art criminal?); a witness’s long-ago possession of a gun; a witness’s general lifestyle; here, a shooting victim’s vaguely possible criminal activity in that shooting, where charges haven’t even been filed. The issue here, at least regarding the top charges, is whether the detectives were “justified” in shooting. Justification is legalese for self-defense. So, whether they believed deadly force was about to be used against them, and whether that belief was reasonable, from the point of view of a person in the same or similar circumstances. So, making the eyewitness friends of Sean Bell and Joseph Guzman out to be general “bad guys” who have experience with guns has nothing to do with whether the detectives felt threatened right before they shot and whether that threat was reasonable from a person in their shoes. They didn’t know Guzman and his friends beforehand, so it wasn’t like they knew he had a reputation for violence, which could have informed their fear. This was the first time Isnora and Oliver had ever seen Guzman.
Anyway, Johmell Henkerson: he talked slowly and quietly and it was a bit hard to hear him. He also seemed on the verge of tears throughout much of his direct testimony. 30 years old, he’s a medical technician who assists patients with kidney problems, and his wife, Shelby, is Nicole’s sister. He’s known Sean since 2000. Henkerson has two prior felonies, 10 years old — from the mid nineties — one for possession of a controlled substance and one for unlawful imprisonment, and two misdemeanors for loitering.

He met Sean earlier in the evening of November 24th, when they’d celebrated with some egg nog and brandies. Henkerson left to go watch his children while his wife attended Nicole’s bachelorette party. (Another thing made a big deal of on cross: that party was cancelled because the male stripper couldn’t make it, as if hiring a male stripper for one’s bachelorette party has anything to do with whether the detectives thought Guzman had a gun…) Anyway, later that evening, Guzman called him and he picked him up in his Mercedes SUV and brought him to Kalua for the party. However, Henkerson then had an underage cousin with him, who was denied admission to the club. He left to take the cousin home, leaving Guzman there.

Later, he met up with his friend Gene Nelson, and the two of them went back to Kalua, except they arrived so late that it didn’t seem worth paying the cover to go in. So he and Nelson waited outside to meet up with the Bell party. He parked around the corner from the club and he and Nelson walked up to the front entrance and waited for everyone to leave. He noticed Isnora and Sanchez standing to his left, talking. Isnora was wearing a “skull cap,” he said. Soon, Coicou arrived with his big black SUV, the music blaring.

Shortly thereafter, his friends — Hugh, Larenzo, Benefield, Guzman, Bell, and Kollore — all emerged from the club. Bell went back inside because he’d forgotten his hat. When he came back out, he “exchanged words” with Coicou. At one point, Coicou and Bell were standing very close to each other and their body language changed; Sean had been in a good mood when he left the club, but Henkerson now saw that their discussion had “elevated to another kind of situation.”

Coicou had his hands in his pockets, and with one hand, he pointed out at Bell as if he had a gun (Henkerson demonstrated this in the courtroom — he pointed his finger out, through the pocket, as if making clear there was a gun in that pocket and Coicou was aiming it right at Bell.) Henkerson couldn’t hear everything they were saying, but heard either Bell or Guzman say “I don’t give a fuck who you waiting for,” “fuck that bitch you waiting for,” and “I don’t care where the fuck you from.”

Henkerson walked up to Bell and put his arm around him, telling him this guy wasn’t worth it and “let’s leave him alone.” (I have in my notes that Henkerson nearly started to cry at this point, saying, “Sean was in a great mood the whole month; I was trying to bring to him the reality of the situation”). Henkerson also told Guzman they should leave. Henkerson said to Guzman and Bell that Coicou was “holding himself out like he got a gun on him.”

Guzman was mad but decided to let it be and all men began walking toward Liverpool Street. When they got to the corner, Henkerson looked back at Coicou, noticing he was pulling out; he looked at Coicou to “make sure he wasn’t going to do anything.” Coicou drove up to the corner, driving slowly, then turned and made a right onto Liverpool Street, passing them. He then turned right on the next street and was gone.

The men were deciding where they’d go for food, to continue the party. Henkerson had planned to keep Bell with him for the night, until his wedding, so that he and Nicole would next see each other at the ceremony. As Bell and Guzman got into Bell’s Altima, Henkerson spoke with Bell at the window, determining where they’d go next.

Henkerson then saw the Camry driving down the street, carrying a black driver, a white passenger, and a black guy in the back. Before it passed, Henkerson stepped aside, to his right, so that the Camry passed between him and Bell’s car. The men inside all looked at Henkerson, driving slowly and “observing” him, “looking hard” at him. (Had they been looking in the other direction, at Bell’s car, they might have seen Isnora motioning them to the Altima — Isnora had just told them the men in question were getting into a car — but apparently they found Henkerson more suspicious. Why, I don’t know: Henkerson, very slim, almost wiry-limbed, didn’t look the least bit threatening. But not seeing the Altima or Isnora, the Camry continued on).

Anyway, Henkerson looked back at Bell after the Camry passed. He then saw Isnora, the black guy in the skullcap he’d just seen in front of the club. Isnora was walking up (“like he was creeping from somewhere”) behind the Altima. He had a gun drawn.

Henkerson “put two and two together,” realizing the men in the Camry were cops (why else would a white guy be traveling with two blacks in this neighborhood at 4 in the morning?). And cops plus a guy with a gun was a recipe for disaster. “Things could get really ugly,” he thought. He said, “Oh shit, he got a gun.” (On direct he testified he’d said this to himself, but on cross admitted he’d told the Grand Jury he’d said it to Bell and Guzman as well). He did not think Isnora was an officer.
Henkerson decided he and Sean had better “get off the block.” As Bell pulled out, he figured Bell would be okay since he was in his car. Henkerson started running down toward the end of the block. Behind him, he heard an engine revving up, tires screeching, and then gunshots (“a nice amount” of them). When he got to the end of the block, he heard a pause and began to come back, but then the shots started up again.

He turned the corner, and ran in the opposite direction of his car, down a few blocks, winding back up to Liverpool. He’d found Nelson and Kollore on the way. The three men arrived at the top of Liverpool to see Benefield lying on the ground belly down, wearing handcuffs, screaming that he couldn’t feel his legs. The men tried to go back down to where Sean’s Altima was, but were prevented from doing so by officers, who eventually told them which hospital which shooting victim was being taken to.

Henkerson called a cab since “he was in no condition (emotionally) to drive.” The men caught up with Bone, and cabbed first to Jamaica Hospital, where Henkerson (who was crying in the courtroom when he testified to this) saw Bell being operated on, then to Mary Immaculate to visit Benefield and Guzman, then back to Jamaica, where he was told Bell had died. Henkerson then took a cab back back to the club and retrieved his car.

On cross it was brought out that Henkerson had possessed a gun in the past, in the 1996 unlawful imprisonment case. Henkerson said he’s since “moved on with his life.”

It was also elicited on cross that he had been shot in April 2007 on the street of Far Rockaway as he left a restaurant. When asked several questions about that, he noted that he didn’t know what that had to do with this case. One defense attorney asked him why he hadn’t talked to police about that case, and whether it was because he’d had to get an attorney for that case because he was involved in criminal wrongdoing. Defense counsel asked him whether he was testifying in this case to curry favor with the prosecutors so they wouldn’t prosecute him on that case. The judge sustained repeated objections by prosecutors. Defense counsel asked Henkerson if his Mercedes was ever searched on the night of this shooting; Henkerson said no. Defense counsel asked him if the reason he didn’t drive his car to the hospital was not because he was too emotionally disturbed to do so, but because he didn’t want it to be searched. He said no.

At this point, a woman who I assumed was his wife left the courtroom. Words like “bullshit” emanated from the prosecution spectator section.

Later, another defense attorney continued with the line of questioning about Henkerson’s being shot in April 2007, asking him if he had a gun at the time of that shooting. At this point a woman on the prosecution spectator side said something which I couldn’t hear but which was audible to the judge. Cooperman stopped proceedings and called out, “whoever asked that question, leave the courtroom.” The woman got up and left, cursing as she went.

Henkerson seemed genuinely confused whenever asked any questions about the April 2007 shooting or about his own car and why he didn’t drive it.

This is the first time I really got angry with the defense. I think the attorneys are doing a good job of bringing out inconsistencies between witnesses’ trial testimony and their earlier Grand Jury testimony or their prior statements to district attorneys during interviews, getting witnesses to admit things were a lot more nuanced than they’d represented on direct (or, in Coicou’s case, completely different). But, the rap song stuff, the insinuations that Henkerson had some involvement in his own shooting — a case which hasn’t had any kind of disposition, and no discernable relation to this case whatsoever, and the stripper at the bridal shower crap — they have nothing to do with the issues here, they’re meant only to badger and make the witness look like a “bad guy” in general, and those kind of tactics don’t bode well for anyone with any sympathy whatsoever for the Bell family — and you’d have to be heartless not to be one of those people. They really beat up on this witness, a member of the Bell family, and there was no reason to do so. He presented as honest, serious, vulnerable and upset, and not interested in a fight (unlike Coicou, whom they had every reason to go after). Plus, Henkerson’s testimony was not very damaging to the defense.

Okay, briefly Detective Oliver’s Grand Jury testimony:
Oliver, 35, started with the NYPD in 1994, first in patrol as a uniformed officer, then in the narcotics bureau. He’d worked only in Manhattan all the way up to August 2006, when he was assigned to the Social Club Enforcement Unit, first in Chelsea (after Imette St. Gillen was killed), before being transferred to Queens South in October 2006, a month before the shooting. He’d been trained to be an investigator, not an undercover officer, and only in drug buys. In Manhattan, the club initiative’s aim was to close down clubs under the Nuisance Abatement Laws, by conducting drug buy and busts. All activity in Manhattan was centered around drug busts; nothing else.

He had never been to Kalua Cabaret before 11/24/06, the night of the shooting. The undercovers there were primarily to conduct prostitution busts. At the team meeting earlier in the evening, Oliver was assigned to drive the “prisoner van,” with Officer Carey in the passenger seat. Since he’d never been in the area before, Carey told him where to park and directed him around.

When they first arrived in the vicinity, around 12:15, they ate fast food, before proceeding onto the club area, parking a few block away from it. Around 1:15, he saw Sanchez, one of the undercovers, walk by him, toward the club. This signified the operation was beginning, which was confirmed by a radio call from Lt. Napoli, in charge of the operation. He and Carey simply sat in the van until nearly 4:00 a.m., making personal phone calls on their cell phones. At one point, Detective Headley drove by with Napoli, in the Camry, and they exchanged small talk, but he didn’t remember what they said.

Around 3:45, Napoli radioed and said Detective Isnora was in the club and there was a man inside of the club with a gun. That man was wearing a White Sox cap and was heavyset, either black or Hispanic. Oliver waited for further instructions.

Around 4:00, Napoli radioed again saying the man in the White Sox cap with the gun would be exiting the club soon, and for everyone to “move in closer. Keep in tight.” Oliver pulled around the corner, nearer the club, and put on his vest and police shield, which he wore on a chain around his neck. He was nervous: a prostitution operation was one thing; now they were being told someone had a gun, a much more dangerous situation.

Around 4:15, Napoli radioed that the man wearing the White Sox hat was exiting the club and the team should “move in, we’re going to grab him.” Oliver began driving toward the club. Napoli then radioed a third time commanding, “move in, field team.” Oliver proceeded down past the club, and as he did so, looked at the people outside the club for a heavyset black or Hispanic man in a White Sox hat. He didn’t see anyone fitting that description.

At the end of the corner, Oliver made a right onto Liverpool Street. He drove slowly, looking to his left for the White Sox man. He didn’t see him, but instead saw Isnora on the side of the street standing in front of a car. Suddenly, Oliver heard tires screech, and the car ran into him, hitting him head on. He was “in shock.”

He saw three men in that car — two in front and one in back.

That car then reversed and backed into Isnora, causing Isnora to jump. He now saw Isnora had his gun drawn. The car came back at Oliver’s van, hitting him again. Isnora yelled, “He’s got a gun, he’s got a gun.”

Oliver saw the car’s passenger side window blow out. He heard shots. He put his van into park, and got out of the van yelling, “police, don’t move.” He approached the passenger-side door of the car. He saw Guzman begin to raise his right arm, lowering his left shoulder at the same time, as if he was reaching into his waistband. Oliver said he was scared, he didn’t want to die. He shot. Then he had no shots, and he didn’t know why there were no shots firing from his gun. He loaded another magazine into it. He didn’t want to die. It all happened so fast. He shot with the new magazine, and continued firing until he had no more shots left, and no more magazines.

He focused all of his initial shots on Guzman, but at one point, saw the rear window of the car blow out. He then believed the man in the back was firing at him or his colleagues. So, he finished off his rounds shooting at the man in the back, Trent Benefield. He never shot at the driver, Sean Bell.

After the shooting stopped, he told Carry to “cover” him, and he ran to the van and got the radio. He called the central unit telling them shots were fired and “two perps were shot,” and asking them for ambulances and backup units to be sent to the address, which he knew. That radio call was played in the courtroom. He sounded very frantic, but gave a better address and description of where they were than Sanchez had on his 911 call.

Oliver didn’t hear any shouting from Isnora before hearing the Altima’s tires screeched. He may have had music on in the van, but he usually turned off the radio when in pursuit. He never saw Isnora fire.

Oliver said he re-assessed the situation while he was re-loading his weapon. The threat remained, as Guzman was still trying to get his hand up. If he got his hand up, Oliver felt he would be killed. The entire thing happened within seconds. He felt he had no time to take cover from one of the vehicles on the street once he’d left his van.

He never did see Guzman’s hands. It never occurred to him that his fellow officers could have fired. Oliver had only ever fired at the shooting range, never at a person.

“I am trained to eliminate the threat,” he said. “The way to eliminate the threat is to shoot at center mass. Some people die. I have to live with this for the rest of my life. It was the last thing I ever wanted to do.”