The day Glaude’s life came crashing down

KEITH ANDRE GLAUDE loved to party, he enjoyed Carnival, and attended the Point Fortin Labour Day celebrations. “I can’t go back to Trinidad now,” he told Newsday on Tuesday, the day Lance Small was found guilty of gun running. “I might be killed.” But that is no more as Glaude was forced to change his lifestyle in more ways than one. The last time he visited Trinidad for Carnival was in February 2001. His last Borough Day gathering was in May 2001. Now, Glaude, 49, has to stay in the United States, hesitant to return to Trinidad because of the fear that he could be killed. Glaude’s freedom of movement came crashing down on him in 2001. First, he came to Trinidad in February 2001 where he received messages that Jamaat al Muslimeen member Lance Small wanted to see him. He went to Small’s home in Gonzales and saw him. Small wanted him to pick up some guns in Fort Lauderdale and send them to Trinidad.

Glaude returned to New York where he lived. Three months later, he was back in Trinidad for Borough Day celebrations and met Small again. Small wanted him to get the weapons and send them to Trinidad. It was also a chance to make some money. So, Glaude returned to the US and called a man called Steve Pena. Glaude didn’t know the man’s real name was Steve Mc Kean and that he was a special agent with the Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms (ATF).They met on May 29, at Hooters Restaurant, North Fort Lauderdale, where they discussed the transfer of 60 AK-47 rifles, ten MAC-10 machine guns, and ten silencers. Glaude met with Mc Kean and a man called Vincent Curry. Glaude panicked when he saw a gun on Curry’s leg. Later that day, he called Mc Kean and informed him of his observation, but Mc Kean told him not to worry.

The transfer of the weapons took place the next day in downtown Fort Lauderdale. Mc Kean took Glaude to a business place and showed him several duffel bags. Unknown to Glaude, the transaction was video-recorded. The video revealed Mc Kean showing Glaude the weapons and how to attach the silencer to the machine gun. Glaude looked excited and gave his approval. Glaude was dressed in an orange jersey, black short pants and wore socks and sneakers. He was overly excited and wanted to get the weapons in his green Dodge van as quickly as possible. Everytime he was shown a weapon, his response was “alright, alright.” Then just as he thought he was home free with a purchase that he knew to be illegal, his world came crashing down. He was arrested in a sting operation and it was then he realised he was dealing with the “Five O” (police).

Poor Glaude. Caught red-handed he had no choice. He decided to cooperate with ATF. He mistakenly mentioned the “silencers.” Who tell him to say that word. Small hung up, but by then the conversation was recorded and played for the jury at the US Federal Court here on Monday. After giving evidence, Glaude was a relieved man. He told Newsday that his life had changed and he had gone through a lot. “I made a mistake and I paid the price for it. You know, that man (Small) set me up. He knew that Mc Kean was a police, and he still sent me to him.” Realising that he was caught, Glaude said he pleaded guilty to possessing a firearm and was sentenced to 24 months in prison, which he served. Apart from his prison life, Glaude had to contend with another problem. A kidney ailment. He had treatment when he was imprisoned.

“You know how many tablets I have to take daily... a lot. I have to take them to stay alive,” Glaude told Newsday as he pointed to his stomach. He has lost weight since he was last seen at the Federal Courthouse in 2001. “I can’t even go back to Trinidad. I was a founding member of Phase II Pan Groove. Every year I went home to be with the guys in Phase II. Borough Day was no exception, I enjoyed that.” Having given evidence which led to Small’s conviction on Tuesday, Glaude remains in the US despite having been convicted of a crime. What’s next for Keith Glaude? He just smiled, not even wanting to say where he lives now. But he gave one assurance... “I will call you.” He then left the courthouse and drove off with another witness, former Jamaat member Neville Reid.

Two things were certain with Lance Small’s trial. Justice was swift but much prejudicial and hearsay material was admitted into evidence. Small faced a jury in the US Federal Court in Fort Lauderdale, with Judge William Dimitrouleas presiding. There was a court clerk, and a cat reporter. Unlike Trinidad and Tobago, where nine jurors would sit on such a conspiracy case, 12 were selected in Florida with two alternates. The foreman of the jury was not selected at the start — that was done when the jury retired to consider their verdict. It then turned out that number 12 juror was the forewoman. There was an opening statement by the prosecutor, Assistant US attorney Roger Powell, and then the first witness was called. Six witnesses gave evidence for the US government, including Trinidadians Neville Reid, Keith Glaude, and acting police Sgt Raul Hercules.

The prosecution’s case was over in a flash, and before Small was called on to make his defence, trial attorney Joseph Gibson informed the judge of his motion (in writing) that there was no case to answer and that Small should be released. Dimitrouleas said he looked at the motion and said a prima facie case had been made out and dismissed the motion in 15 seconds. No argument, no submission, no legal authorities, the no-case submission gone out the door. Then came the moment everyone was waiting for... Small giving evidence. Well, he disappointed everyone. He decided to stay silent and he had no witnesses. The last time I recall accused persons who stayed silent and paid dearly was in 1996 when Dole Chadee and eight members of his gang remained silent at their murder trial in Chaguaramas. They were found guilty and executed three years later.

After Small decided to stay silent, the judge wanted to be certain he had it right. He told Small that it was his right to give evidence and also his right to stay silent. Small said it was his decision to stay silent. According to the judge, “I don’t want it to be said later that you were not given the opportunity to give evidence, that you should have given the evidence at the appropriate stage. Do you understand what I am saying?” Small nodded and said he was not giving evidence. It was an anti -climax. Small’s advice was there was no case for him to answer, so he stayed quiet. For the jury, the evidence was overwhelming and the jury came back with guilty verdicts on all three counts. The case lasted five days, and another Trinidadian had hit the dust in a Florida court. But unlike Trinidad and Tobago, when every care is taken to avoid prejudicial material being admitted into evidence, no such care was advanced in Florida.

Small was charged with conspiracy and possession arising out of offences committed between 2000 and 2001. But the prosecutor brought a witness from Trinidad to identify a picture of Small coming out of TTT on August 1, 1990, with a rifle in the air. That was the day the Muslimeen insurgents surrendered from TTT and the Red House. In Trinidad and Tobago, if the accused is not present to a conversation, then that will amount to hearsay evidence. In the US, that is not the case. Agent Steve Mc Kean was allowed continuously to say what Neville Reid told him, what Keith Glaude told him, what the Trinidad police and Government officials told him with respect to Small. There were no objections from the defence table. The jury heard a lot of hearsay evidence and this went unchallenged into the jury room, an amazing difference between the English legal system and the United States justice system. At the end of the day, Small’s attorney Joseph Gibson said his client got a fair trial and that the trial judge was a fabulous judge. Poor Lance Small! He is to be sentenced in August.