The Shawnee Mission East class of '08 loves its gay homecoming king.
Women loved Zachary Coleman. And he loved their money.
Everybody thinks Jeff Swanson is somebody famous. And he does nothing to dissuade them of the notion.
Gardiner, a petite woman whose dark hair is tinted an artificial red, might have been displeased at being shown up by Cotrone. But instead she looked away and smiled.
"Is there a point to reminding me of that?" she asked Cotrone in her slight Cuban accent.
Gardiner shuffled through some papers on the bench before smiling again and goading Cotrone: "I may not have as good a memory as you — even though you are older than me."
It sounded almost like... flirting. And if you believe two sources close to Cotrone, who is indeed five months older than the 46-year-old Gardiner, it was just that.
Two well-placed sources, both of whom asked for anonymity for fear of professional repercussions, claim to have personal knowledge that Gardiner has had a personal relationship with Cotrone going back years.
Gardiner visited Cotrone's office, phoned him on a regular basis, and exchanged gifts with him, according to one of the sources with past ties to Cotrone.
At the same time, Gardiner showered Cotrone with taxpayers' money in the form of special appointments to represent indigent defendants in her courtroom.
The allegations of a romance between Gardiner and John Cotrone are widely known in Broward's criminal justice circles. While the accusation hasn't been reported in a newspaper, numerous comments from courthouse insiders on the Justice Advocacy Association of a Broward County website, JAABlog, have made the claim.
The blog chatter has gone unchallenged by the accused, says Bill Gelin, a defense attorney and JAAB member who writes for the site. Both Gardiner and Cotrone were given many opportunities to comment for this article, and both refused. Gardiner even went so far as to hire prominent defense attorney David Bogenschutz to order New Times to "cease and desist" from asking questions she found "insulting and embarrassing."
The silence from Gardiner is especially troubling considering that she is one of the most powerful public officials in Broward County. As Broward's chief criminal court administrator, she is in charge of 18 judges and largely responsible for making sure the courthouse runs smoothly. She has also taken a leading role in political matters, including the controversial effort to build a new Broward County courthouse.
The allegations of questionable social relationships involve not only Cotrone but two assistant state attorneys. If proven true, the allegations could have drastic ramifications not only for Gardiner but for the courthouse, which has already been rocked by numerous scandals during the past year.
The revelations could result in some criminal cases getting overturned — including a first-degree homicide case tried last year.
Ana Gardiner was enjoying drinks with friends on a Friday night last spring when the conversation turned to murder.
Sunrise Commissioner Sheila Alu was there that night. She, Gardiner, and Assistant State Attorney Howard Scheinberg were among those who got together for the night at the swank Timpano Chophouse and Martini Bar on Las Olas Boulevard.
Alu remembers Gardiner and Scheinberg talking about a murder case. They laughed about it, saying the people involved were gay. They talked about how a juror had fainted at the trial after being shown a particularly gruesome photograph of the victim's gaping neck wound.
The commissioner soon realized this wasn't just courthouse gossip: Gardiner was the judge in this ongoing trial, and Scheinberg was the prosecutor who was trying to put the defendant on Death Row.
Alu, a third-year law student at the time, knew their banter was terribly wrong. She recognized it as improper ex parte communication that was not only unfair to the defense but could cause a mistrial and prompt disciplinary action against both Gardiner and Scheinberg. She says she was so disturbed by it that she walked away from the table.
The conversation allegedly occurred on the night of March 23, 2007. Five days later, the Sun-Sentinel published an article headlined "Man Guilty In 2001 Murder." A jury had convicted a man named Omar Loureiro of first-degree murder in Gardiner's courtroom, rejecting defense lawyers' claims that he killed James Lentry in self-defense after receiving unwanted sexual advances.
"Prosecutor Howard Scheinberg said the slaying was too brutal — Lentry's head was nearly severed and he was stabbed twice in the neck and six times in the face — to justify self-defense," noted the article.
The newspaper didn't mention the fact that a photograph of Lentry's neck wound was shown to the jury on March 22 — the day before the outing at Timpano — or that a juror was excused from the jury after fainting at the sight of it.
Loureiro's defense attorneys pleaded with Gardiner not to allow the photos of Lentry into evidence, arguing that they would unfairly prejudice the jury against the defendant.
"The judge denied the motion," says Gawane Grant, one of Loureiro's two court-appointed attorneys. "I think those pictures were very influential for the jury. Those pictures were horrific. Our argument basically was that it was way too prejudicial to the jury. A juror who sees that is going to want the death penalty."
The jury did recommend the ultimate punishment, and Judge Gardiner followed suit, sending Loureiro to Death Row.
When told of Alu's description of the conversation between Gardiner and Scheinberg at Timpano, attorney Grant seemed stunned.
"If that's true, if they had that conversation during the trial, that is in utter contravention of the rules of law and our judicial system," says the lawyer, who stresses that he believed Gardiner was an excellent judge. "If that's the case, then the decision should be reversed immediately."
The revelation about the judge's apparent ex parte communication might be a defendant's worst fear come true. If one's fortune, freedom, or life is on the line, the idea that the judge is partying with the opposing attorney and talking about the case is mortifying. No matter what the nature of the relationship.
"You live in a town with a million people, find somebody else to socialize with," says Broward Public Defender Howard Finkelstein, who has heard the rumors about Gardiner but says he has found no evidence they are true and has seen her to be a dedicated judge. "It looks wrong. It looks bad. And I don't think any defendant ever will believe it doesn't affect their decisions."
Scheinberg didn't respond to numerous phone messages and refused to answer e-mail questions. He released only a brief statement through State Attorney's Office spokesman Ron Ishoy: "I've been prosecuting homicide cases for 11 years," he wrote. "During that time, I have never discussed a pending case outside of the court with a presiding judge, including this case with Judge Gardiner."
If Gardiner was swayed by her social relationship with Scheinberg to allow the prosecutor to show the gruesome photographs at trial, it may cost Loureiro his life.
Not that Loureiro, a former ice cream truck driver, is a particularly sympathetic figure. After killing Lentry in 2001, he fled to Nicaragua, where he was jailed for shooting a woman during a scuffle on the street. But the father of two young daughters certainly deserved an impartial judge who didn't talk about his case with the prosecutor whose goal was to have him executed by the state.
The ruling that attorney Grant says had the most profound impact on the jury was the exhibition of post mortem photographs of the 57-year-old Lentry.
Scheinberg described Lentry's injuries in court records, writing that he was "stabbed in his mouth and neck as well as a tortuous linear wound down the entire side of the face...
"While James Lentry was disabled but conscious," Scheinberg continued, "the defendant began to saw through the base of Mr. Lentry's neck [leaving him] virtually decapitated."
It's not surprising that a juror fainted at the sight of the photographs.
As the case wound its way through the court system, Loureiro occasionally wrote letters to Gardiner in a neat hand. One written on August 1, 2006, referred to his belief that Scheinberg had wronged him in court by referring to his deportation when in fact he was never officially deported.
"Dear Judge Gardiner," he began the letter, " ...Mr. Howard Scheinberg mislead [sic] this Honorable Court that defendant was 'deported' to the United States from Nicaragua."
After his conviction, Loureiro's daughters, 14-year-old Lillian and 12-year-old Jessica, wrote Gardiner letters asking her to send their father home.
"I will miss my daddy very much and I love him with all my heart," Jessica wrote the judge this past June 10.
They had no way to know that the judge had a personal relationship with the prosecutor and that the pair discussed the case at a bar during the trial.