By Ray Stern
By New Times
By Amy Silverman
By Stephen Lemons
By Stephen Lemons
By Monica Alonzo
By Chris Parker
By New Times
Deputy Chief Jack MacIntyre told Babeu that he attended a MACE meeting in 2009 with the sheriff, Hendershott, Aubuchon, and lawyer Clarisse McCormick.
During the meeting, MacIntyre explained, Aubuchon happened to bring up some of her legal theories for the barely active Goddard-Peterson investigation. MacIntyre stated to investigators that he told the group Aubuchon was in error — that they had no legal grounds to continue pursuing the case.
MacIntyre subsequently was cut out of the conversation about MACE cases. He claimed to Babeu's investigators that he thought Arpaio trusted too much in Hendershott and didn't pay attention to "the intricacies of legal issues."
But Arpaio wasn't hearing about such "intricacies" from Hendershott. He was hearing about them directly from Aubuchon during at least one MACE meeting.
The bottom line is, the sheriff appeared to decide for himself whether MACE tactics were sound. He didn't need help from Hendershott.
Far from Hendershott's playing Svengali to a hapless Arpaio, the two had a boss/subordinate relationship.
The sheriff let it be known to his staff that Hendershott was carrying out his wishes and brushed aside many complaints about his second-in-command.
Hendershott was hired by the MCSO in 1978, while Arpaio was still in the federal Drug Enforcement Agency. Not long after Arpaio first was elected in 1992, he began to see Hendershott as his main ally in the office.
Until then, Hendershott was considered an average deputy. "Outstanding" was rarely checked off on his evaluation forms. Mostly, he was just deemed "satisfactory." After Arpaio took office, his evaluations were replete with "excellent" to "outstanding" marks.
"Since September 1, 1993, Captain David Hendershott, as director of the community services division, has reported directly to me," Arpaio wrote in a 1994 performance appraisal. "I have had many opportunities to observe his work and have found him to be outstanding in the community relations field."
Arpaio promoted Hendershott to deputy chief that year and made him chief deputy in 1999. During election seasons, Arpaio relied on Hendershott to raise funds and manage campaigns. Naturally, the sheriff put him in day-to-day charge of MACE, Arpaio's most sensitive project.
The worst moment for MACE came in March 2009, Munnell wrote in his memo, when Hendershott removed Knight and other supervisors from the unit because they wouldn't authorize an "illegal" search of county supervisors' offices in the discredited Andy Kunasek "bug sweep" investigation.
Lieutenant Rich Burden, who worked as a MACE supervisor under Knight after Miller retired, described to Babeu's investigators how Hendershott phoned him, repeatedly, demanding that the search warrant be on his desk by 7 a.m.
Burden said he and others on the MACE staff knew the investigation was a sham, and the warrant Hendershott wanted cobbled together was proof. He said the chief deputy wanted the warrant to say that investigators sought to find deactivated or destroyed listening devices — despite the fact that Hendershott knew none had ever been placed.
The issue led to a war of words between Hendershott and Burden. The next day, Burden, Knight, and three other supervisors were transferred out of MACE.
Hendershott told Babeu's investigators that he subsequently talked to Sheriff Arpaio about the transfers. He said he told Arpaio the deputies' "work was substandard."
It's clear from the Babeu investigation of the MCSO that Arpaio trusted Hendershott to carry out his orders.
"The sheriff totally and completely had absolute faith in David Hendershott. And that everything that David Hendershott was doing was for the good of the sheriff," Loretta Barkell told Babeu's investigators. "You could not move his loyalty away from [Hendershott]."
Current and former MCSO higher-ups state in the Babeu report that they talked to Arpaio about MCSO problems attributable to Hendershott, but the sheriff didn't seem to care.
Soon after such conversations with the sheriff about his right-hand man, critics typically would receive an unpleasant visit from Hendershott.
As the years went by at the MCSO, Deputy Chief Scott Freeman told investigators, everyone knew there was no point in complaining about Hendershott.
"The sheriff [said] repeatedly, in staff meetings, in conversations, 'Dave is my guy. I'm going to support him, no matter what,'" Freeman stated.
Arpaio knew full well that Hendershott could be an intimidating and irrational bully — not only because he'd heard plenty of stories about Hendershott's behavior but because he'd witnessed it, too.
The sheriff didn't care, for example, that Hendershott bullied his longtime press officer, Lisa Allen. Or how the bullying got started.
Allen, in interviews with Babeu's investigators, described that she had learned of an instance of Hendershott's bad behavior in the early 2000s.
Hendershott's son, Dave Jr., who works in computer forensics at the MCSO, had blabbed to a female employee that his dad had a number of deputy chiefs help install a flagstone terrace and plant 65 trees in the chief deputy's huge backyard.
Allen said she told one of the deputy chiefs that Hendershott Jr.'s tale was just the kind of story that New Times might discover and turn into a scandal. Word got back to Hendershott that Allen was complaining about his son, and he summoned her to his office.
"He basically said to me, 'Don't ever fuck with my family. You fuck with my family, you fuck with me," Allen told investigators. "He's one scary man . . . about the scariest man I've ever met."