In the upside-down world of criminal justice, Lt. Richard Pasley Jr. straddles a line these days.
By duty, his job is to keep an eye on some of the 600 inmates at Nellis Federal Prison Camp. By a strange twist of circumstance, he finds himself charged with a more serious offense, attempted murder, than many of those Nellis inmates have on their own criminal records.
The fact he remains on the job has some inmates, those who are not big fans of justice-system irony, up in arms.
In addition to the attempted murder beef, Lt. Pasley is charged with felony child abuse and endangerment after being arrested on an allegation he choked his 14-year-old daughter during a domestic dispute. Domestic altercations are notoriously messy for police, prosecutors and judges. Even the simplest facts can be shadowed beyond recognition by the warring parties.
Although the factual and legal complexities will be addressed in court -- the case is set for trial later this month before District Judge Nancy Saitta -- Deputy District Attorney Brad Turner confirms the defendant was arrested Feb. 13 and the alleged victim was taken to a hospital after complaining of a sore throat and neck. The victim later testified at a preliminary hearing. Since then, Turner says, no negotiations have taken place.
Now cut to Nellis Prison Camp, where inmates are using the incident to take after Pasley, whom they describe as "hot-tempered, foul-mouthed, racist, and far from professional."
They also say they have filed numerous complaints about him.
Such a statement, on its face, would have little meaning. Let's face it, convicted felons have almost as many credibility issues as members of Congress and newspaper columnists.
Notified of the problems with Pasley, I called Nellis Warden J.M. Killian's office and was directed to case management coordinator and public information officer Pam Holloway, who politely declined to discuss what she called "nonpublic" information.
The felony charges are public. The fact Pasley remains on the job is public. Beyond that, not much.
Holloway was kind enough to explain that the prison camp is a minimum security facility designed to house nonviolent offenders. White-collar criminals, drug dealers with soft hands, that sort of thing.
"We don't have rapists or people who've been convicted of murder," Holloway says. "We have no convicted sex offenders."
Want a twist to ponder?
The vagaries of state and federal charges aside, if convicted of the crimes alleged, Pasley likely would be considered too violent for placement at the correctional facility where he now works.
Although Holloway declined to specifically address the Pasley issue, she did say, "Any staff person who is charged with criminal wrongdoing will be dealt with appropriately once a verdict is reached." And charges against officers "are reviewed on a case by case basis."
Fair enough and quintessentially American: Innocent until proven guilty. Makes perfect sense.
Except, in the real world, perfect sense rarely rules the day. Quite often, in fact, it gives way to lawyerly sense. Lawyerly sense is not to be confused with legal sense.
Lawyerly sense, by my definition, is all about the potential for an issue to generate litigation. And leaving a man accused of attempted murder in charge of nonviolent inmates is like dumping blood in shark-infested waters.
Lawsuits are an American tradition even bigger than the Super Bowl. And do you know which class of citizens files more lawsuits than most others?
The inmate class.
Throughout the nation, prisoners file lawsuits by the score for everything from bad chow to second-hand smoke. Although a large percentage of those suits are thrown out, vast amounts of court and attorney time are consumed in the process. And on those rare occasions inmates actually have legitimate beefs, the impact on the system can be devastating.
Inmates don't need a lawyer to file a lawsuit. But, come to think of it, a good percentage of the residents at Nellis are probably attorneys.
If there's any justice in the world.
John L. Smith's column appears Wednesdays in the Nevada Appeal. E-mail him at Smith@reviewjournal.com or call him at 383-0295.
