By Ray Stern
By Ray Stern
By New Times
By Amy Silverman
By Stephen Lemons
By Stephen Lemons
By Monica Alonzo
By Chris Parker
The court tower was the subject of an insane conspiracy theory promulgated by Thomas and Arpaio, which in turn became the subject of Thomas' absurd RICO suit against a list of their judicial and county enemies.
That RICO suit was so laughable that Thomas and Arpaio ended up dropping it altogether and handing it over to the U.S. Department of Justice for review, though the feds wanted no part of it.
In an October letter from Arizona U.S. Attorney Dennis Burke to then-County Attorney Rick Romley, Burke stated that there was a "total lack of evidence" that any federal crimes had been committed and that "in several instances, the evidence was so lacking as to make the theory of liability nearly incomprehensible."
Gleason similarly found that the racketeering lawsuit was frivolous, meritless, and mired in conflicts of interest. Moreover, it was hatched purely to "burden and/or embarrass the defendants."
Worse, according to Gleason, it was "legally deficient" and lawyer/wingnut blogger Rachel Alexander's attempts to prolong the case were based on "incompetent reasoning."
It was in pursuit of Judge Donahoe's scalp that the Thomas cabal veered into possible lawbreaking. The independent counsel reveals that it was Arpaio's genius idea to file charges against Donahoe. In doing so, Thomas and Aubuchon were "engaging in criminal conduct," Gleason writes.
Gleason alleges the pair violated federal criminal statute 18 USC 241, which makes it a crime for two or more people to conspire to deprive someone of his civil rights. In this case, it was Donahoe's "constitutional right to engage in his profession and do his job as a judge."
Thomas and Aubuchon "engaged in perjury" when they filed a criminal complaint signed under oath by MCSO detective Gabriel Almanza, Gleason says.
This, because, "Thomas and Aubuchon knew that Detective [Almanza] would be swearing to facts and allegations against Judge Donahoe that were false."
Almanza was ordered by an MCSO sergeant working with Aubuchon to sign, even though Alamanza "had no knowledge as to the truth or the falsity of the complaint."
Doing justice to the entirety of Gleason's report is not possible in the space allotted here, but you can read the full report for yourself online in my Feathered Bastard blog post, "Andrew Thomas' Campaign of Corruption" (December 6).
Other highlights include Thomas and Aubuchon's filing at least 44 criminal complaints against Supervisor Stapley — 44 out of that infamous 118 — that they knew the statute of limitations had run out on.
Add to this allegations of dishonesty, abuse of process, misleading grand juries, and when you get done, you realize that losing his license to practice law in Arizona is the least of Thomas' worries.
Because if the U.S. Attorney's Office, the FBI, and the federal grand jury looking into Thomas and Arpaio all act accordingly, Thomas could be swapping his swank law digs at Phoenix's Paradise Village Office Park for a cinder-block cell in the federal pen.