FBI Attempts to have me Murdered in Custody Part 4 of 4

1998

After my stroke, and nearly 2 years held without trial, the Assistant District Attorney, with my lawyer, came to visit me in my cell. Offered me a plea deal for time served if I pled guilty to reduced 1 million accessory to bank fraud. I was told this would also prevent additional charges from being made.

I said I would have to think about it. They said okay they would come back the next day for my answer and left. I then sat on the corner of my cot. My mind froze. I didn’t lay down. I didn’t pace the cell. I sat on the cot without any awareness of time or cognitive function of any kind. Just sat there mentally and physically catatonic. The cell door reopened, apparently the next day, I was surprised, it seemed like only 3 minutes. They were back for my answer. I signed the agreement. Soon after a change of plea hearing was held. I was released pending sentencing.

As soon as I could get to a typewriter, I filed a withdraw motion insisting that I was innocent. The court has never held a hearing on my withdraw of plea motion. It is after 25 years still open on the court docket. However, the sentencing judge aware that I was continuing to assert that I was innocent, threw the plea agreement out, but did not give me the opportunity to withdraw my plea. And sentenced me back to jail for 6 more months.

Back in custody, the US Marshals put me on a private jet plane. I was the only prisoner. Accompanied with several Marshals. I had my legs shackled and my wrists cuffed with a box over the cuffs to prevent any wrist movement. My legs cuffs were then chained to my hand cuffs. So that I couldn’t even drink on my own. A Marshal had to hold a cup of water to my lips. We landed in what appeared to me to be Orange County Airport in California. I was then transported in the back of a car to what appeared to be the Federal Building rear basement entrance in Los Angeles. Once inside a black Marshal took custody of me and everyone else left. He took off all my restraints and then walked me down a long hallway all the while with his arm around me pretending to be my friend.

At the end of the hall and around a corner we arrived at an overcrowded holding cell. It was full of black gang members from Watts. I looked up and saw that the security camera had been smashed. He suddenly jerked his arm off me stating loudly; “I know how you hate niggers!” And shoved me in. Locked the cell door and left. The black gang bangers then began to surround me asking; “what the man mean you hate niggers?” They were intent on killing me, actually more likely, tearing me limb from limb. It was obvious the Marshal had just thrown me to the wolves as free meat to be devoured.

A black gentleman wearing a suit, who had been sitting on the floor against the wall, got up and stepped between me and the mob. He began to reason with them saying; “don’t be the man’s nigger.” This calmed them and they then ignored me.  I sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, next to my savior. I asked him “why did you save me?” He said have you heard of Farrakhan? And explained to me that he was a friend of Farrakhan who taught him to think for himself [instead of accepting the government’s line]. Guess I owe my life to Farrakhan or the FBI plot to have me murdered in custody would have succeeded.

Later I was flown back to Montana Billings jail. Where in the dead of winter I was released from jail. I was not told in advance of my impending release. When released they confiscated my civilian clothe that I always wore to court and transport etc. They then took my jail clothe saying I couldn’t wear them on the outside. So I was released into the snow naked! Well nearly naked I had argued for and was able to keep my ragged underpants on. Still it was cold and I was pretty much fully exposed.  A kind Jehovah Witness picked me up and gave me a ride to Billings. In Billings I walked as I was nearly naked into the bus stop to warm up and used a pay phone to call my sister. I then to the Federal Court intending to complain to a judge in what ever court room about them confiscating my clothes. But the US Marshals at the entrance wouldn’t let me in. Finally one of the Marshals told me to go see a probation officer who’s office was across the street. I did so. The PO could believe what he was seeing. But told me he had discretion $50 gift certificate for Walmart. He gave it to me and drove me to the store where he left me. I remember standing in line with only my underpants on which was torn and full of holes. I was pretty much fully exposed. Standing in line with pants, shirt and shoes to purchase. But the girl sold me the items without saying a word. I put my new clothe on in the middle of Walmart. I didn’t even bother going to the bathroom to do so. I just dressed as people walked by. I then went out of the store and the PO was still there in his car. He drove me back to the bus terminal and gave me a voucher to get me on a bus as far as the town where my lawyer had his office.  Said that was all he could do as I wasn’t his PO. Upon arrival in my previous lawyer’s town. I went to Western Union, thankfully my sister had wired me a few bucks. I took the money and walked to Wendy’s where I ate. It was good to be FREE.

-Stewart Waterhouse