Prophet's Prey (34 page)

CHAPTER 40

The Telephone

I had no sympathy at all for the frail Warren Jeffs on the morning of November 30, 2010, when a pair of Texas Rangers shuffled him across the tarmac in Utah, wearing handcuffs and leg chains and shivering in the cold, and put him on the plane for Texas. The mousy-looking man in the thick glasses did not look like much of a threat, but I knew differently.

During his time spent in prison, Jeffs had just about fallen apart. After getting up off his cot in the morning, and pulling a thin prison bathrobe around himself, he would spend most of the day just sitting on the toilet, hour after hour, staring at the walls. At times, a feeding tube was stuck in his nose and left in place for an extended period because he refused to eat and had to be force-fed. His knees were ulcerated from kneeling on the cement floor. He was uncooperative, unresponsive, drooled like a baby, and required constant attention and care. It appeared that he was failing fast, both physically and emotionally.

It would be good to finally get him down into the stern criminal justice system of Texas, and within the jurisdiction of the efficient Judge Barbara Walther, where he faced charges of sexual assault of a child, aggravated sexual assault of a child under the age of fourteen, and bigamy. The charges were all first-degree felonies that carried maximum life sentences. I was more than satisfied with the crisp way in which Judge Walther had run the previous trials, and with the tenacity of the Texas prosecutors. In Texas, I believed, things would be different—closure might finally be near at hand.

After all, the other Texas trials against FLDS men had proceeded nicely. The perpetrators probably would have received lighter prison sentences had they admitted guilt and remorse, but they would not do that. FLDS defense attorney Randy Wilson summed it up: “These were not predators hanging around a playground. They were instructed by their prophet to do something and they did so.” Their inexcusable position was that Warren told them to do it, therefore it was right. Where did it stop?

Leroy Jessop, the remaining groom from the triple marriage ceremony, fared badly when his turn in court had come in May 2010. DNA tests had proven paternity for his child and underage bride, and as he sat in court with a cocky smirk on his face, he was crushed with a harsh sentence of seventy-five years.

It was during the Leroy Jessop trial that my ears had perked up when the FLDS went a step too far and his lawyer filed a motion to declare Leroy indigent, asking that the state pick up the tab to appeal his conviction. Texas refused, and the matter went before the judge for a hearing.

A frequent question throughout the investigation has been, “Where are the Feds?” Now FBI special agent John Broadway, who had participated in serving the YFZ search warrant, appeared on the witness stand and provided a ray of hope that the bureau might be working the case after all.

Broadway produced church ledgers and records that had been seized as evidence, and he testified that the FLDS had a “cash distribution system [that] was set up to evade taxes and to lessen the paper trail.” He described the money-laundering scheme, how much the church had paid out in cash, how couriers would arrive regularly at the ranch with stacks of hundred-dollar bills from their far-flung businesses and the constant donations from thousands of members, and how that would be distributed to the hierarchy. With millions of dollars in the pipeline, Leroy Jessop could well afford to pay his own lawyer.

In the days of mobster Al Capone, bootleg whiskey was illegal, and Capone's mob committed crimes such as murder and extortion to support their illegal operation. Capone was tripped up by evading taxes. I think that may very well be the same low-key approach being taken by the Feds as they probe the inner workings of Warren Jeffs's church.

With the FLDS, the Feds are facing one of the largest organized-crime syndicates in the history of this country. Some ten to fifteen thousand members support a religion that participates in child abuse, interstate and international sex trafficking, and other crimes in support of their religious dogma. It is a much bigger gang than Don Corleone ever had in the
Godfather
movies. I have often pondered how the public would react if the same sort of ritualistic crimes that I have investigated within the FLDS had instead centered on a congregation of Satan worshippers. The only difference is that Satan worshippers know without a doubt that they are going to be prosecuted to the full extent of the law if they get caught raping a virgin. If the FLDS crimes had been put in proper perspective, outraged citizens and lawmakers would have demanded action years ago.

The problem is bigger than Utah, bigger than Arizona, and even bigger than Texas, which was blindsided by the enormity of bringing the FLDS to justice. The federal government must remain in this fight, for we cannot tolerate such blatant, massive abuse in this country, and no other entity has the resources to take on thousands of unapologetic fanatics.

As the shift to Texas was made, Warren still remained the uncontested leader of the Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, but it was a distant leadership, as he became more frail. If he should die, the mantle of prophet would transfer to another man, but the immediate future was murky. Who would lead if he were disabled and ultimately convicted, unable to communicate?

That question was a popular topic of conversation among observers outside of the church. Up for grabs were millions of dollars in church assets, the ability to raise seemingly endless amounts of cash, and control over thousands of lives.

The contest seemed to pit the Old School against the New School. The Old School was led by the tattered First Presidency: First Counselor Wendell Nielsen and Second Counselor Merril Jessop. Warren had resigned when he was sent to prison as president of the church's corporation and he placed Wendell Nielsen in his stead. With Warren's communications limited from the prison, he needed someone to handle the day-to-day affairs of the church. But neither Nielsen nor Merril Jessop was considered a likely long-term candidate. They were getting old, had chronic health problems, and had been under immense pressure from Warren to fund his extravagances and get the Texas YFZ ranch built. In addition, they both were under indictment for committing felonies and faced possible long jail time themselves. Even a few years in prison could have ended up being a life sentence for these aging counselors.

The New School was led by three men. The inside track apparently was held by Warren's brother Lyle Jeffs, who, according to Brent Jeffs, was a close associate of his brother at the Alta Academy. Lyle had become one of Warren's most trusted unofficial lieutenants and was installed in the influential position of bishop of Short Creek. He was not the mysteriously charismatic leader that Warren was, but he possessed the same unrelenting determination and the right pedigree; somebody named Jeffs has been the FLDS prophet since 1987. Over the course of my investigation, I interviewed a couple of computer technicians who had been brought in to work on Lyle's computer. It seemed the problem was Lyle's apparently insatiable addiction to porn. One of the misconceptions held by outsiders is that the FLDS are a very straightlaced, pious people. The fact is, people like Lyle have just become very adept at hiding their behavior.

The second member of this group was Nephi Jeffs, the brother and confidant who had been the liaison between Jeffs in jail and the world outside. He was present when Warren had his “I am not the prophet” meltdown.

The third candidate, and the most startling of all, was Willie Jessop, who forced his way into the top leadership by becoming the public face of the outlaw religion. At an FLDS rally he organized at the courthouse in St. George, Utah, a crowd of several thousand people turned out, and they parted like the Red Sea before Moses when Willie strode through their midst, basking in their applause. The same people who once considered him nothing more than a rude bully now fed his ego, although the prophet still refused to allow him to live within the sacred gates of R-17.

In my opinion, none of the potential candidates would be any better than Warren and any of them could be quite possibly worse.

Upon his arrival in Texas, the prophet was taken to the Reagan County Jail, located sixty-five miles west of San Angelo, where his trial was scheduled to be held. The jail is a holding tank that handles the overflow inmate population from several surrounding counties. Big Lake sheriff Jeff Garner pledged that Jeffs would receive no special treatment in the ninety-six-bed facility.

What was unmentioned was that the Reagan County Jail is a for-profit facility and provides a telephone in the cell of every prisoner who can pay a service fee and the toll charges. The jail sells calling cards in its commissary and collects a commission on collect calls. The prophet probably could not believe his good fortune.

Starting back in the days he had been on the run, he had conditioned his followers to follow his telephoned instructions, so they were quite used to obeying his disembodied, monotone voice from a distance. In the other prisons and jails where he'd been, he had had to wait in line like any other common inmate to use a wall-mounted public telephone, but now he had been handed a telephone of his own—three dollars for the first minute, and a dollar a minute thereafter. He paid up front for hours and hours of use. The telephone link to his followers reinvigorated the waning prophet.

By the time he appeared before Judge Walther the second time, only a week later, he was already regaining strength and was ready to work the system once again. He hired and fired lawyers, one of whom lasted only a day before Jeffs discharged him. Walther told Jeffs he had no excuse for not having legal representation and gave him a copy of scheduled trial dates and a notice for him to sign verifying that the court had made him aware of his rights. He initially refused to speak or sign his name, but after his third preliminary hearing Warren decided to demand more time from the court to obtain an attorney.

Judge Walther graciously gave him a moment to state his case before the court. Warren began a long discourse about the special considerations he needed in order to put up an appropriate defense in Texas. As the speech progressed, Jeffs would stop midsentence and stare off into the distance for several long seconds as he received revelations on how best to explain his special legal requirements to the court. After about twenty minutes of his tortuous ramblings, Judge Walther had enough and entered a not-guilty plea on his behalf and assigned a court-appointed attorney to represent him. Two weeks later, when Warren's next scheduled hearing came up, attorney Jeff Kearney entered his appearance on Jeffs's behalf.

Kearney had made a name for himself defending one of eleven Branch Davidians accused of murdering ATF agents in the Waco siege. According to his Web site, Kearney had considered the case a “once-in-a-lifetime” event. His client was acquitted of murder but found guilty of gun charges. Kearney stated: “I did it because it was the right thing to do,” adding, “It was a rewarding experience that took my practice to a different level.”

With Warren in Texas, the day will surely come when he will be slammed with a mountain of heretofore unheard-of evidence, including the transcription of his sickening sexual assault of Merrianne Jessop, the recording of which was discovered in the Cadillac Escalade he was traveling in when he was finally apprehended. As he traveled, he carried this recording with him, like a trophy to be relived over and over again as the mood would strike him. Judge James Shumate in Utah was privy to a transcription of the recording and immediately sealed it and denied the prosecution's request to present it in trial, stating that it would be too inflammatory to present to the jury, but he said he may reconsider his ruling at some point later in the trial. The tape was never presented in court.

The recordings and documents seized when Warren was arrested were a tiny drop in a very big ocean of evidence compared to what was taken into custody when the temple was breached in Texas. Reliable sources inform me that there is evidence of “temple rituals” that are really nothing more than group sex orgies with preteen victims.

During the next ninety days, Jeffs used his new telephone to rain havoc upon the FLDS people.

He demanded that everyone in the religion provide an accounting of everything they owned from their homes and businesses, down to each piece of silverware and including a list of their wives and children. They were then to pledge all of their possessions to the prophet as a consecration to the church and subsequently be rebaptized and swear allegiance to him. As of this writing, thousands of people have done so, demonstrating the size and continuing loyalty of his following better than any census could.

It is a good thing Warren did not have access to a telephone during the Texas showdown. I believe that had he been in communication with FLDS members at the ranch, it could have turned violent. Among his favorite stories is that of the Zealots of Masada, who held off the Romans for months before finally being overcome. The occupants of the YFZ ranch would have considered it an honor to die at his command. But at that critical moment one of Warren's greatest strengths, his ruthless micromanagement of everyone, turned into a weakness. His henchmen would never make such a major decision without his approving nod. Fortunately, he did not have a telephone then.

But from his cell, he now issued instructions by phone for a huge warehouse to be built at the YFZ Ranch and stocked with heavy earth-moving equipment that he says will be needed to open the roads after the coming Armageddon so the faithful can reach the New Jerusalem in Jackson County, Missouri. He also has written rambling, nearly incoherent threats that the end of the world is (once again) nigh.

On February 17, 2011, Warren Jeffs instructed his henchmen to send out “A Warning to the Nation” and “A Petition to the President of the United States.” More than six hundred packets of these documents were sent out from Short Creek not only to President Barack Obama, but to every senator and member of Congress and to various heads of government departments, including Hillary Rodham Clinton, the secretary of state. The petition to the president is presented as a commandment from “… your Lord and Savior” to “… Let my servant go.” Warren supposedly received the revelation in his prison cell while in Draper, Utah.