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Stationhouse Capo

Continued from page 1

Published on February 12, 2004

But Marano admitted, in a deposition taken later by Raaj Singhal, Edman's attorney, that Edman wasn't even involved in the sale. Singhal learned that officers in the street crimes unit routinely pre-signed hundreds of blank forms that are attached to police affidavits recounting how and why an arrest was made. Officers were supposed to read the final typed reports, then sign off on them, attesting to their veracity. In this case, however, cops weren't even reading the final reports; the signed pages were simply attached by whoever happened to be collating documents. The charges against Edman were dropped after Singhal went to Assistant State Attorney John Countryman with information about Marano's testimony that the signed affidavit didn't accurately represent Edman's involvement.

Countryman considered prosecuting Marano and Fernandez but could find no "provable crime." In the conclusion of his investigation at the end of 1996, he wrote, "Even though Sgt. Marano and Officer Fernandez's explanations of this 'mistake' could fairly be characterized as implausible, they are not provably false."

As for departmental discipline, then-Chief Rick Stone gave the two cops letters of reprimand for violating one department policy in the arrest. Edman subsequently sued the officers and the city for violating his civil rights and was awarded $750,000 in December 1998 by a federal jury. The case is under appeal, and Edman has yet to see any money, Singhal says.

At the time, Chief Stone had little to say publicly about Countryman's investigation. But by early 1998, Stone began challenging Marano. In May of that year, he transferred Marano from road patrol to the Telephone Reporting Unit, which handled nonemergency phone reports of crimes and general questions by the public. Marano claimed the move was to hinder his union activities. Stone claimed that the union was manipulating his department's management and that he was trying to regain control.

Led in part by Marano, the union campaigned for Stone's termination. Banners calling for his resignation were flown from planes. Leaflets questioning his ability and character were passed around neighborhoods. At one point, some officers grew goatees to "get Stone's goat" because he didn't care for facial hair on cops. Stone resigned in October 1998 and sued the city two years later. In the suit, he alleged that soon after becoming chief, Marano and Dick Brickman, who was a sergeant with the Hollywood police and also the president of the Broward County Police Benevolent Association, told him that it was "payback time" for certain command staff who had crossed them. Stone said that he refused to cooperate with the PBA's vendetta and that the union leadership turned against him. The suit also asserted that the union and its top officers held total control in doling out $2 million a year in off-duty security work. The union used the off-duty details as patronage, rewarding loyalists and intimidating those who wavered, Stone alleged.

Though the case is still pending, an investigation by the city's human relations department determined in 1998 that the off-duty details, which could boost an officer's pay by almost $30,000 a year, had been doled out with unbridled cronyism. The city revised the system somewhat in the fall of 1999, but it left in place the practice of having assignments made by off-duty coordinators, most of whom are PBA members.

Judging by depositions taken in the picnic probe, Marano remains powerful, and he doesn't hesitate to use his union clout and influence over off-duty details to get his way.

Officer Debra Levy told investigators that it was a "scary thing" to talk to them because what she says could affect how she'd be treated in the department. Asked who might retaliate against her, she replied, "I can't specifically say it would be Lt. Marano, you know, again because I'm not privy to him actually saying those things, but the feeling of the department is that he controls a lot of stuff and that if you cross him, you're screwed."

Detective Peter Salvo told investigators that disagreeing with Marano meant the lieutenant would "always take action or do something to try to get you to be on his side or to eliminate you from being a threat against his opinion." After Salvo backed a candidate for a union position that differed from Marano's choice, Marano told the detective, "I will not be your friend. I will never talk to you," according to Salvo.

It was Marano's demand for unwavering loyalty that figured in his attack on the black officers. "He thought it was a union against his union, or an opinion against his opinion," Salvo said, "and he was [forcefully] going after it."

Marano still doesn't hesitate to lean on subordinates if he wants something. Forrest Jeffries, a sergeant assigned to the internal affairs division, testified that Marano continually pestered him about an investigation he was conducting. The department had received an anonymous letter concerning Marano's conduct. Jeffries had looked into the complaint -- he didn't give investigators any specifics -- and forwarded his findings to the State Attorney's Office. Marano kept asking Jeffries when he'd know the outcome of the case.

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