Bamboozled Read online

  Joey also received two letters from James Gallo, a real estate attorney from Pasadena who wanted to help. Next he got a response from Christopher Morales from San Francisco, who graduated UCLA and was a former amateur boxer. The three men would be Joey’s team.

  Morales investigated the mechanics of coram nobis and Gallo would help Joey file motions. Joey says Morales challenged him daily to be his best. Months of prison lockdown from another North/South war gave Joey time to study.

  The lawyers gave the thumbs up and Ana Luisa filed Joey’s writ of error coram nobis on January 8, 2001. She hand delivered it to the clerk in Norwalk. The motion was actually filed seventeen times and each time it came back denied. As each one was denied, Joey put another in the mail. Joey assumed he could challenge the life sentence on account of his plea agreement with the Youth Authority.

  He turned on the TV one morning and saw the planes crash into the World Trade Center. The alarm went off, the National Guard took off, and the prison operated on a skeleton crew. Then mail stopped appearing as a result of the anthrax scare. Not even legal mail was delivered for weeks.

  Eventaully Mr. Gallo instructed Joey to write an appeal that was less than 100 pages, as that was likely why they were denied. Joey wrote a ten page version.

  One day, in his cell, Joey heard chains slamming on the floor and looked up from his bunk to see five transportation guards stopping in front of his cell. As they put the chains around his body Joey suspected someone had mentioned the stabbing or something else he’d done. Little did he know that his appeal had been granted.

  13

  The medical department began attending to Joey’s badly-infected stab wound while he ate a Big Mac. He thought the cars looked like something from the future and marveled at a guard’s cell phone.

  Ana Luisa was in shock and could not speak. Joey instructed her to buy him some clothes and to rent an apartment for them.

  The following morning Joey found himself in the same court room he stood in 20 years earlier. He saw Ana Luisa behind him, looking scared. Joey sat alone, with no attorney next to him, but plenty of bold optimism.

  Judge Thomas McKnew, a balding man in his 60s, walked into the court room. He glanced down at Joey’s legal briefs. The DA, Pamela Frohreich, began throwing cases, cites, and arguments against Joey. Joey responded, quoting law dating back to King James. After their summations, the Judge returned to his chamber. The bailiff supposedly informed Joey that he had done “a remarkable job.” James Gallo showed up to mention Joey’s “good behavior” in prison.

  An hour later there were keys jingling and butterflys in Joey’s stomach like he experienced before a fight. The judge entered and everyone stood.

  The stoic judge began reading: “Despite vehement opposition from the District Attorney’s Office, Petitioner’s petition for writ of coram nobis is granted.”

  Joey had tears in his eyes. Ana Luisa is bug-eyed in shock. Frohreich jumped to her feet in protest.

  “The judgment of conviction is hereby vacated, as is petitioner’s guilty plea. Petitioner is remanded to custody without bond and shall appear on December 27, 2001.”

  Joey’s sentence was vacated like it had never happened. He was re-arrested for the crime of 1979, like it had never occurred. The penal code stated that applicable bail would be what it was for murder in the first degree in 1979. Joey smiled, appreciating his natural proclivities as a lawyer. Mr. Gallo filed a bail motion to Judge McKnew with a motion for the Department of Corrections to release their hold.

  “Mister Torrey, how do you plead to murder in the first degree?”

  “Not guilty, your honor.”

  “I vacate your original sentence but the DA has filed new charges against you because there is no statute of limitations on capital murder. She protested my decision to the court of Appeals, saying I’m not competent to do my job. Now, let’s discuss bail.”

  District Attorney: “Your Honor, this is a capital murder, in the first degree, as you correctly stated. Therefore, there is no bail, nor has there been since 1980.”

  But Joey’s crime was in 1979. He is intstructed to debate this action by the DA.

  Torrey: Your honor, I filed a motion on this very subject last night after years of researching. You should have it in front of you. Under the California penal code Sub Sec A6, bail rights are applicable to what they were at the time of the crime, and at no time issuance will be different, based on the fact that the DA was fully correct in stating that as of 1980, no bail on murder one. Ergo, my charged allegations transpired in 1979, one year prior to the law cited.

  Joey says he surprised himself with his grasp of the law and looked triumphantly at the flustered district attorney. The judge looked at his paperwork and raised his eyebrows at the prosecution. The district attorney said, “Your honor, you can’t do this. This man was released on a writ of coram nobis from a life sentence and now you’re going to let him out on bail?”

  Judge said, “Yes, I am. What was bail in 1979?”

  Joey replied, “One hundred thousand dollars, on a million dollar bond, your Honor.”

  “Then that’s what your bail is today. Good luck, Mr. Torrey.” The Judge banged his gavel and left the bench. Pamela Frohreich’s face was red with anger.

  Joey would receive a new trial and was returned to the holding tank where the bailiff supposedly tipped him off, “The DA is going to request an order to stay your bail. You have 24 hours or you’ll remain in custody.”

  Joey called Ana Luisa, who was still amazed and very quiet. She didn’t have a hundred thousand dollars. Joey called Eric Davis, but he was in the Bahamas. Then Paul Molitor. It was midnight in Minnesota where he lived. Joey already owed him $10,000 but says that before he finished his sentence, Molitor said he just needed to figure out how to get the cash.

  In an interview at the time, Paul Molitor said, “He was doing good things in prison. It was the right thing to do.”

  Mr. Gallo had two guys that owned a bond company and secured Joey’s release through Molitor’s credit card. Joey couldn’t sleep that night. In the morning the sergeant asked for his name, number, and if he wanted to go “home.” Joey was unsure if it was the latest episode of his 20-year old dream. Mr. Gallo insisted that Joey be released in the evening of January 6, 2002 while the LA County Jail was quiet and everyone was sleeping.

  The only clothes available for Joey were Huggy Bear bell bottom pants and a t-shirt. The guards nervously watched the rare instance of an inmate being released after 22 years. Joey gave Mr. Gallo a big bear hug. Walking away from the LA County Jail, Joey said it still felt like a dream.

  Mr. Gallo informed Joey, as they climbed into Gall’s Benz, that he had called Ana Luisa and she was waiting for them at the old restaurant; The Pantry. Ana Luisa sat alone in a back booth, still looking scared. Mr. Gallo seemed happier than she was that Joey was free.

  Joey asked Ana what was wrong and started to get angry. It would seem that Ana Luisa was more secure with Joey in prison. Her life had a comfortable order that way. She advocated Joey’s release, but might have been happier if he never got out, regardless of what she had said on the subject.

  Gallo left and Ana Luisa was still timid when she asked, “What are we going to do?” Joey felt that she had never quite believed that he would get free. As a result, they spent the rest of the night looking for a hotel room.

  The following morning Joey felt like a kid in a candy store. He bought a 40 oz. of De Malt Liquor, a can of Skoal chew and several candy bars at the gas station.

  They drove up Highway 101 in silence, holding hands. Living in hotels for the forseeable future, and having trouble finding any that weren’t sold out, Joey was getting pissed thinking that if she had listened to him they would have a home to go to.

  As they reached the Pacific Coast Highway, the sun was rising—a sight Joey hadn’t seen since he was on the beach with JoJo over 20 years previous. Finally they gave up, turned around, and checked into the Holiday Inn on Sunset
Blvd. They marvelled at the view from the 20th floor.

  The following morning, Joey awoke alone. Ana Luisa had apparently never told her family about him, let alone that she was married to him. So she disappeared in the middle of the night. Even at 29 years old, Ana Luisa was brought up in a culture close-knit to her family.

  Lacking a car or even ID, Joey spent his day drinking on the 20th floor. He called Eric Davis who rushed over to drink with him. Eric gave him five grand and a leather coat.

  Joey next called Paul Molitor and thanked him.

  In the morning, Ana Luisa returned for breakfast and took Joey to obtain his birth certificate, and a driver’s license.

  Joey spent the next night at his sister’s in Santa Clarita. Chris Morales paid for Joey’s hotel for a couple weeks and informed him that the DA’s office was appealing his release. “Enjoy it while you have it! UCLA has a great law library.”

  Joey let loose one day on Ana Luisa while they were eating breakfast at the weigh station in Saugus. Ana Luisa had done everything demanded of her for years. She even showed up daily at his hotel room with coffee in hand for him—but this relationship did not resemble a partnership. Joey was mean and lost his temper. Unfortunately, Joey didn’t see things this way or understand until she walked out on him for good.

  Joey was driven to visit Carlos Palomino, who was working with kids at the boxing gym in Van Nuys. He was greeted by Carlos like a long lost brother. Joey started training and sparring at the Olympic gym and felt the bounce return to his legs. He says it was here that he felt he wanted to commit to having one professional fight.

  Not having anyone to pay for his $100/night hotel room anymore, Joey resigned to move into a Holiday Inn in his old neighborhood. Joey was free but alone. He knew how to network but not how to relate with someone as an equal; as a friend. He would run, hit the gym on Olympic, then run back to his hotel room. One day, seeing a 1976 Toyota convertible for sale, he called Paul Molitor and asked him to put that on his credit card as well. Shortly thereafter, in what probably violated the terms of his bail, Joey put the top down and hit the highway.

  14

  It was a cold day when Joey drove into Las Vegas. He had spent the last two nights in Barstow, holed up in another filthy hotel with a bottle of Hennessy. He would be visiting Miguel Diaz in Vegas, who sounded happy to see him. Miguel sat Joey down in his office and proceeded to go down memory lane.

  Joey closed the door and told him, in all seriousness, that he wanted to return to the ring at 42 years old. Diaz smiled and called in Bruce Trampler who told Joey that he was crazy, but asked for a few days to clear it through his boss, boxing legend Bob Arum. Trampler was the primary matchmaker for Top Rank who Joey had already been in touch with from prison. Trampler apparently saw the angle of a chubby ex-con in a Hawaiian shirt as a comeback kid in a hard-luck fairy tale for the everyman.

  Miguel hit the intercom for his secretary Angie, who turned out to be the same Angie from the Forum Boxing Club in Inglewood, CA. Angie gave Joey a key and a room to stay in on Flamingo Blvd. Joey’s phone rang and it was Sean Gibbons, Trampler’s assistant, who came by to pick him up.

  Around 10 p.m. Gibbons unlocked the Top Rank office, and sat behind Mr. Arum’s desk, supposedly laying out lines of coke, and inviting Joey to join him. He opened a bottle of Captain Morgan and they sat, did lines, and drank. After awhile, they moved the party to Trampler’s office.

  Sean, known by boxing insiders as “Buddy Holly” (for his resemblance) or “The Oklahoma Meat Packer” (for his boxing management style), supposedly snorted more coke, and promised to take Joey to meet Bob Arum in the morning.

  Joey received a call that night from Angie, who instructed him not to trust Sean. Angie, as it turned out, also knew Eric Davis and his crew. Joey believes she was the only honest person involved with Top Rank.

  The next morning, Sean woke Joey up, banging on his door, with a bag full of food, coke, Hennesy, and papers in hand. Alert and seemingly full of coke, Sean walked in, poured a drink, and smiled. Somehow, Sean had a wife and two kids.

  As Sean ran down the score, Joey mentioned concern about a four fight deal, thinking he was only good for one. Sean supposedly broke it down, “I’m the fixer—you could walk in the ring blindfolded and still win. Arum will have money invested in you by then and will demand that you win every fight. I’m called in to make sure that happens. Don’t worry!” Supposedly Sean told Joey that he had men who’d lie down in a fight for a bottle of Tequilla, with the fights being pre-scripted.

  Mr. Arum was not available for their meeting, so Joey sat in an office with Bruce Trampler. He liked Bruce, who seemed more concerned about his welfare than boxing. According to Joey, when push came to shove, Trampler ran Top Rank and was in an ongoing power struggle with Arum’s stepson for managerial control of the company.

  Joey put Trampler in touch with the state appointed attorney handling his appeal, Verna Wefald. Joey had met with her once before heading to Vegas and felt she was his ticket to staying out of prison.

  The following morning, Sean picked Joey up to meet with Bob Arum. The meeting was scheduled for 10 a.m. and Bob waved Joey to sit, and then informed him, You will be fighting on the 23rd of April, at the Anaheim Pond. Here is $5,000 to buy some clothes. Arum told Joey that they would talk to the media together, representing Top Rank, and supposedly also, “Do not worry about winning the fight, but lose some weight to resemble a boxer.”

  Joey says Angie kept him abreast of who was in his corner. Trampler seemed to be the one making things happen for Joey. Joey says he only saw Arum at press conferences or when he pushed around Arum’s stepson. With Bruce in Joey’s corner, it was in his best interest to push around Bruce’s managerial rival.

  Sean became Joey’s manager and Joey claims he pushed Sean for the next 500 days to go to the gym, lose weight, and train for the fight. Instead, he claims Sean was setting up other fights and finding people to take falls go up against boxers who couldn’t be beat. Joey claims there was an elaborate system of people who came to town, partied with the crew, stayed in cheap hotels, were knocked out, and headed home to spend the money buying more drugs.

  After the office would close, Joey says he would party with Sean and some “victims” before their losing fights. After they were properly coked up, Joey claims they would walk over to the strip. One night, Luigi told Joey to stay away from The Crazy Horse “Gentleman’s Club.” But Joey didn’t listen and headed over with Sean. At the entrance to The Horse stood Bubbles the bouncer, who recognized Joey. Bubbles had worked for Uncle Frank in 1977 in Lancaster, Californi at the pizzeria.

  Inside the strip joint, another bouncer requested $100 for lap dances and drinks as they sat down. Sean pulled out the money but Joey got up to leave and Sean followed him out. Bubbles asked if there was a problem as the other bouncer moved behind Joey. Joey claims the Crazy Horse was the kind of place that if you did not pay your bill or ten times your bill, you’d have an “accident” on the way out.

  After Bubbles’ interjection, Joey claims the Horse’s prices either weren’t charged or were very reasonable, but unbeknown to them, in the midst of their debauchery, someone was watching from a Ford Escort across the street. Bubbles, without a second look said “FBI,” and Sean was quiet for the first time since Joey had met him. They hid out in VIP, drinking till the early morning, when Bubbles got off work. Before leaving, Bubbles asked Joey, “You okay, Luigi’s brother?”

  They walked out as the sun was rising over the Tropicana. Joey knew the Feds were watching the place so he stayed away for awhile and went to Spearmint Rhino instead, among the “common folks.” Joey met a woman named Octavia who he said made him laugh, saying he “related to her hustle.”

  Like JoJo, Emma, and Sonya, Octavia was another prostitute, and “one of the most genuine people” he had ever met. A former underwear model, Joey says Octavia claimed to make $2,000-3,000 per job.

  Sean seemed to buy into the hype that Joey wrapped aroun
d himself and began repeating it around Vegas. The doors that were once closed, were now open and inviting.

  New women kept ringing Joey’s new cell phone. Joey has a knack for meeting women—especially prostitutes—giving them his phone number and enough incentive to call him, losing interest as they gain it, and then telling the story in a way that the responsibility of the situation falls far from his own shoulders. Perhaps Joey says it best: “[I] did not know how to appreciate a tender loving person. I put moments of pleasure in front of a lifetime of love.”

  Joey started to do promotions for other Top Rank Boxing matches. He claims Top Rank had Kevin Iole, a reporter for the Review Journal on the payroll. Kevin wrote a three page cover story on a Sunday about Joey. It’s one of the few pieces of media that paints a positive, albeit, one-sided, picture of Joey.

  Top Rank’s PR machine was in full force and turned Joey into an overnight celebrity, despite being 42 years old and overweight. They began having Joey appear to glam up Friday night fights. As Gibbons took a liking to Joey, he used Joey as his personal muscle and gofer while Trampler attempted to forge a new screenwriting talent, with visions of turning Joey’s life into a movie.

  Joey asked Octavia to lease him a CK 55 Benz Convertible, with the AMG package, sitting on spinners, for his birthday. She did. He would park it with the casino valet who would detail it while he gambled. Instead of training, Joey claims he was drinking one gallon rum and cokes, swimming in the pool, making calls, and tanning.

  Top Rank hired another new publicist—Lee Samuels— who arranged a photo shoot for Joey before he left for Livermore, California with Top Rank.

  Joey had a 1 p.m. meeting with Bob Arum the following day. Having nowhere else to go, Joey arrived at noon and walked into Top Rank with baskets of cookies and candies. He walked up behind Angie, kissed the top of her head while she was on the phone, and put a basket in front of her.

  When they finally sat down to their meeting, Joey says Arum declared Bruce Trampler said we can promote one hell of a show with you, call it “the come back!” Joey says he smiled and explained, “Sir, I am 42 years old and have not fought in years.” Supposedly, Arum smiled, chuckled, looked over at Bruce and stated, “Kid, you just show up and your opponents will fall when told. Don’t worry about that.”