Police said that Kelly tried to run and that a fight ensued. "He began to punch and kick this officer with closed fists and feet," a police report states. Bruised in the scuffle, Kelly was jailed on charges of car theft and assaulting a police officer. He later said that the car was a friend's, that he did not know it was stolen and that the police officer assaulted him.
Had Kelly been arrested in the District, his parole officer would have been notified by computer the next day, as the city's police and parole agencies share daily arrest information. But the federal Court Services and Offender Supervision Agency has no such arrangement with police in Prince George's, leaving open the possibility that it will not learn about an arrest in the neighboring jurisdiction.
"It's a day we will always remember when the rest of the world forgets," Carol Smith wrote on the first anniversary of the slayings of her daughter, Erika, and Erika's father, Greg Russell.
(Sarah L. Voisin -- The Washington Post)
|
|
"The Prince George's County Police Department has no mandated policy to interface with parole authorities upon the arrest of an individual," police spokesman Lt. Steven Yuen wrote in an e-mail response to a series of written questions about Kelly's case.
Kelly's stepfather posted a $1,200 bond and Kelly was back on the streets -- before Barlow even knew that he had been arrested.
Free again, Kelly almost immediately stole another car, a white Cadillac El Dorado, prosecutors allege.
Barlow learned of the arrest in Prince George's only when Kelly told him about it. But he and other parole officers have no authority to arrest inmates for violating parole, and they cannot order them sent back to prison. Only the U.S. Parole Commission can do that; although it reviews the recommendations of parole officers, it does not regard them as binding.
In a memo dated June 20, Barlow recommended that the commission revoke Kelly's parole. But the request was not marked urgent, and the commission did not regard it as serious enough to merit even a hearing.
The night Barlow wrote his memo, Kelly forced a 20-year-old woman in Wheaton into the front seat of the stolen Cadillac at knife-point, drove her to a wooded area and raped her, prosecutors charged in court filings. He did not become a suspect for several months. Kelly later wrote the judge in this case that the sex was consensual and that the woman pressed charges after he refused to pay her for sex.
On July 9 -- nearly a month after the alleged assault on a police officer -- the parole commission ruled that Kelly should remain free until that criminal case took its course.
"That is simply mind-boggling," said James Austin, director of the Institute on Crime, Justice and Corrections at George Washington University, who has written manuals for parole board members. "It's the kind of thing that gives corrections a bad name."
Losing Track of Kelly
As the summer wore on, Barlow returned Kelly to maximum supervision status. But he saw him only one more time, on July 10.
Kelly reported for his next meeting as scheduled on July 17, Barlow testified, but Barlow was not there to see him. Another staff member filled in, which is acceptable, agency officials said, because parole officers are sometimes delayed in court or meeting other offenders.
Once again, on July 29, Kelly came in as scheduled. This time, Barlow was away on "approved leave," the agency said.
Kelly never came back.
The next day, he failed to appear in court in Prince George's on the assault and car theft charges. Police there immediately issued an arrest warrant but did not inform D.C. officials.
Barlow did not keep track of the case in Prince George's. The agency has said that he did not know that Kelly was a no-show or that a warrant was issued for more than two weeks.
That was not a mistake, Barlow's supervisors said in an interview. The agency's policy does not require parole officers to find out whether their own parolees who have been arrested show up for trials or hearings.
Barlow called Kelly's cell phone once, but got no answer, agency officials said. Kelly did not report to any Court Services and Offender Supervision Agency office for more than three weeks, records show, and his absence was not reported.
For Anthony Kelly, there were no swift consequences for violating his "maximum supervision." Late Aug. 1, he smashed a window at a gun store in Kensington and stole five pistols, according to indictment papers -- including the one that would be used to kill.
Death at an Intruder's Hands
On the night of Aug. 6, real estate entrepreneur Greg Russell and his daughter Erika were preparing for bed. Russell, 47, who shared child-raising responsibilities with Carol Smith, Erika's mother, lived in a modest red-brick colonial in the 9300 block of Columbia Boulevard in Silver Spring, a tranquil street just off the bustle of Georgia Avenue.
Smith, an information technology manager, and Russell had been friends for two decades. Erika was their only child. Her sleepover at her dad's house was a regular feature of her young life; she loved it because her doting father would sometimes allow her to ride her bike indoors, which produced fits of giggles.
About 10:30 p.m., Erika called her maternal grandmother to say good night. Russell then got into a phone conversation with a friend, a call that stretched beyond 11.
In the darkness of the back yard, Kelly apparently put on a wig and a fake beard, police wrote in summaries of that night, citing the discovery of wrapping paper for the costumes and hair fibers outside the house. The documents say that he apparently cut the screen on the kitchen window and slid inside, carrying a stolen .32-caliber pistol.
Moments later, Russell was on the phone with a 911 operator, screaming that he was shot.
Police rushed to the house and found him on the upstairs landing, bleeding profusely. Gasping, he told them that his assailant was a large black man, with unkempt bushy hair and a beard. He had been shot eight times -- twice in the chest, twice in the left forearm, three times in the thighs and once in the lower left leg. It was as if he had waved his arms and legs in front of him, attempting to shield himself.
