Suspected cop killer in limbo

Oakland Tribune, Oct 30, 2006 by Sean Webby

SAN JOSE -- More than 100 times, alleged cop killer DeShawn Campbell has taken this walk with deputies through the tunnel between the Main Jail and the Hall of Justice in San Jose. He is escorted into a courtroom, and sits there between lawyers who have been tangling for years over whether he could end up on Death Row.

Five years ago this weekend, authorities say, Campbell fired a single fatal shot through rookie San Jose police officer Jeffrey Fontana's right eye on a dark Almaden Valley cul-de-sac. Since that morning, there have been four defense attorneys, three judges, two police chiefs, 300 witness interviews, 650 pages of reports and so many hearings that lawyers can only roughly estimate.

But a trial is unscheduled, probably months away.

Early this past week, lawyers and a judge methodically worked through 2,500 pages of court transcripts in yet another hearing to hash out whether Campbell is too mentally handicapped to be executed, if he's found guilty.

Campbell sat staring into space.

Fontana's family, who have been to dozens of these hearings, did not have the time or patience to go to this one. For one thing, Tony Fontana was re-writing the annual vigil speech about the seemingly endless delays to justice for his slain 24-year-old son. Sandy Fontana tried to make sure her husband -- in his anger and disgust - - doesn't write anything that he shouldn't.

Less than two weeks after theshooting, police arrested Campbell, then 22, who had been in hiding and writing farewell letters.

There are no easy answers to why the trial is still on hold.

There is a natural sluggishness to death penalty cases, which often take two to three years. Some take much longer. There have been many delays, the longest coming when Campbell's first defense lawyer was found to have a conflict of interest and was replaced.

But no matter the reasons, the marathon delay is traumatizing two families.

The Fontanas

In a quiet home in Woodside, painful reminders surround Fontana's family: a photograph of little Jeffrey in a Halloween Superman costume, his scholastic awards taped on a wall in his old bedroom, hunting catalogs that still arrive at their home with their son's name on them.

Tony Fontana, 56, sat at his kitchen table this past week and rattled off names of highly publicized homicide cases, his face going more scarlet with each one: "Scott Peterson, Officer Espinoza, the transgender case -- all gone to trial since my son was killed. We are not even close."

Sandy Fontana, 55, finds herself talking to surprised friends, explaining over and over why her son's case is still wending its way through the court.

"We used to believe in the system of justice. I had total faith," she said. "I have lost my faith."

Jeffrey's younger brother, Greg, 26, is staying in Jeffrey's old room. He's gearing up to be a firefighter. His parents refuse to let him be a police officer.

Greg said all he wants now for his brother is "justice."

Tony wants "closure."

Sandy? She wants to be able to stop going to the Menlo Park cemetery and telling her son that they can't seem to finish this for him.

The Campbells

Campbell's father, Robert Campbell Sr., stood in his frontyard in the east foothills this week, overlooking the hazy skyline of San Jose.

"I can see about where it happened from up here," he said, looking west. "I can see where they are keeping Shawn."

Campbell said he grieves for the Fontanas, has been wanting to talk to them, commiserate with them since the painful days after the killing and the arrest. But that time, he feels, has come and gone.

The last five years have torn up him and his family, too, he says. They wait to find out if DeShawn is found guilty of killing a police officer -- something that the elder Campbell once aspired to be. And if he is, they will wait to see if DeShawn will live out his last days on Death Row.

"I wish all this never happened," Campbell said. "I wish Jeffrey Fontana was still alive. And I wish my son was free."

The killing

No one knows exactly why Fontana -- two weeks into his first solo patrol shifts -- turned off and drove into the quiet tangle of residential streets off Almaden Expressway in the pre-dawn of Oct. 28, 2001.

A nondescript Hyundai had caught his attention. Fontana either didn't make a radio call or his call was interfered with by another radio transmission.

Fontana pulled behind the car with his emergency lights on, with no idea of who was behind the wheel.

Neighbors in the normally bucolic cul-de-sac of Calle Almaden heard a single shot.

Fontana was on his back, dying. His flashlight was on the ground nearby. His gun was still snapped snugly into its holster.

Prosecutor Lane Liroff thinks these things mean Fontana was surprised. This will be a key thing to prove. If Campbell lay in wait, then it becomes premeditated -- a mandatory element for seeking the death penalty.

A witness told investigators that she was with Campbell and others soon before the homicide listening to a radio show about the best way to kill someone with a bullet-proof vest -- in the head.