Preparing for a New Trial While Behind Bars : Convicted of Attempted Murder, He Shuns Lawyers, Controls Own Destiny

He seems the most atypical of prisoners.

Balding, bearded and bespectacled, Nicholas Schulz has a brain that could joust with a Rhodes scholar. His credentials include advanced degrees in engineering and business, and an intimate familiarity with the electronic innards of our nation’s military arsenal. By the age of 32, the engineer had leaped up the corporate ladder at General Dynamics to snare a prestigious job marketing company products to the Air Force.

So what’s this whiz kid doing behind bars? The San Diego County district attorney says he tried to kill a man. Schulz insists he didn’t.

Initially, prosecutors prevailed. On the advice of his attorney, Schulz agreed to a plea bargain in March, 1986, and was dispatched to state prison, sentenced to a term of 11 years. Through it all Schulz claimed the criminal justice system was making a terrible mistake. If only someone would listen , he could explain what really happened.

Earlier this year, the jailhouse door cracked open just a sliver. In May, the 4th District Court of Appeal concluded that Schulz had been ill advised by a lawyer who misinformed him about the benefits of the plea bargain. The conviction must be tossed out, the court said. Nick Schulz deserves a trial.

It was just the sort of rebirth the soft-spoken engineer had been waiting for. Here was a chance for redemption, a shot at proving he was a victim, not the disturbed, dangerous criminal so many others had described.

And this time Schulz would control his own destiny. No more meddling by lawyers who soak up a guy’s life savings and then give him a bum steer. This time, Schulz would map out his own defense--slowly, meticulously--and argue his own case in court.

When Nicholas Kenneth Schulz was arrested and charged with attempted murder three years ago, his friends and relatives were stunned. No one had expected this man to falter. A native of Chicago, Schulz was the classic overachiever, a man who parlayed a youthful knack for fixing machines into a prosperous career in the defense industry.

His rise at General Dynamics’ Electronics Division in San Diego was impressive indeed. After moving west to join the company in 1984, he powered through the ranks, quickly landing a coveted marketing position that paid $55,000 a year.

Meanwhile, a woman--Janice Vuich--had captured his heart. He was in love, his future brimming with promise.

But on Oct. 29, 1985, Nick Schulz’s life took a frightful tumble.

There are conflicting accounts of what happened. Some facts, however, are known: On that night, Schulz paid a visit to the Ramona home of John Kiracofe, Vuich’s soon-to-be ex-husband. Kiracofe was shot once in the abdomen. Schulz was arrested later by police while driving too quickly through Poway in a rented car containing a loaded semi-automatic pistol.

Claim Murder Was Plotted

Prosecutors say Schulz painstakingly plotted Kiracofe’s murder. In court filings and arguments at Schulz’s preliminary hearing, Deputy Dist. Atty. James

Pippin said the scheme enacted Oct. 29 was hatched by a man fearful he was losing the love of his life--a man who cracked and hunted down an innocent, unsuspecting prey. (Pippin declined to be interviewed because of the pending trial.)

In Pippin’s version, Schulz made his first move Oct. 25. In order to “case” Kiracofe’s house, Schulz disguised himself as an investor and scheduled an appointment with a real estate agent selling the Ramona home. In court, the agent identified Schulz as the investor, “Joe Amilio.”

On Oct. 29, Schulz rented a silver Chrysler. Inside he put a 9-millimeter automatic pistol and a shoe box padded with a pillow--a crude silencer for the gun, Pippin called it. There were also two wine bottles filled with gasoline and a few strips of cloth, which the prosecutor assumes were wicks for the firebombs Schulz intended to use to blow up Kiracofe’s house.

That evening, prosecutors say, Kiracofe heard a knock on the front door. A visitor said he had a package for the pilot. Kiracofe opened the door and saw a man holding a box. An instant later, Kiracofe was shot in the abdomen.

In court, Kiracofe was unable to identify Schulz as the man at his door that night. But investigators say the physical evidence points to the engineer as the would-be killer. A bullet shell found in Kiracofe’s kitchen matched the gun found in Schulz’ car. The box with the pillow in it had been punctured by a bullet. There was gunpowder mixed with the pillow fibers.

Nick Schulz was charged with attempted murder, unlawful entry to commit murder and unlawful possession of explosives.

Five months later, Schulz pleaded no contest to the attempted murder charge on the advice of his attorney, Charles Bumer. Schulz maintains he was coerced to enter the plea and misled about the benefits of the bargain. He said Bumer told him the plea agreement would reduce his possible sentence by six to nine years; actually, it saved him just one year.

Schulz sought to have the plea bargain set aside, but Superior Court Judge David Gill denied his request, apparently agreeing with the prosecutor’s assertion that Schulz agreed to the deal “in view of the overwhelming proof of his guilt.”

Suddenly, the engineer with the shining future was on his way to the California Institution for Men in Chino, facing 11 years behind bars.

Nick Schulz is not one to mope about his lot in life. Instead of wallowing in depression at the loss of his freedom, his career and his girlfriend, Schulz began plotting a way out of prison as soon as the door to his cell swung shut.

The first step was to overturn Gill’s ruling and withdraw the plea bargain. While a new attorney assisted him in filing an appeal, Schulz commenced his legal education, purchasing $2,500 worth of law books. Hour after hour he studied, poring over his own volumes as well as the collection in the law library of his new home--the state’s correctional facility in Tracy.

“I worked day and night, trying to become an expert in criminal law and on the issues in my own case, specifically,” Schulz said in a recent interview. “You should have seen my housing unit. It was packed with books.”

Before long the engineer-cum-counselor was aiding other inmates with their legal troubles. Schulz said he even helped a prison employee sue the management after she was injured by the facility’s heavy steel gates.

Schulz also initiated some litigation of his own. He sued Kiracofe in connection with the 1985 shooting, charging the pilot with assault and battery, among other things. And Jim Pippin was hit with a lawsuit as well: Schulz claims the veteran prosecutor is guilty of fraud, slander and other “misconduct” in his handling of the criminal case.

While awaiting a verdict on his appeal, Schulz passed the time teaching math and tinkering with computers. There was no word from Vuich, his former flame, but occasionally, his mother and grandmother flew out from Chicago for the 72-hour weekend visits Schulz was permitted in special family “condominiums.”

“There was no sense in getting depressed,” Schulz said. “Prison is a very violent place, full of hatred, with the wolves always going after the sheep. But I had no problem. I don’t play games with people so I wasn’t bothered.”

In May, the news Schulz had been banking on finally arrived: The 4th District Court of Appeal had overturned Judge Gill’s decision and ordered the plea bargain vacated.

Attorney Charles Bumer, the court wrote, “did not meet the threshold standards of competency” by miscalculating the benefits to Schulz of cooperating with prosecutors. Because of Bumer’s “ineffective” representation, Schulz was “unaware of the actual value of the commitments made to him by the prosecutor” and therefore was entitled to a trial if he so desired.

To no one’s surprise, Nick Schulz did so desire.

There was no question that Schulz would represent himself in court--or “go pro per,” as they describe the tactic in legal parlance.

“I spent $120,000 on lawyers the first time around and still got the maximum penalty for a crime I didn’t commit,” said Schulz, who has lost his own life savings and those of his mother’s to the legal battle. “I am educated, I have a professional background and I feel competent to go pro per. I also know more about my case than anyone else.”

After Schulz was transferred back to the central jail in San Diego, a consulting attorney--David Florance--was appointed to assist him with legal questions and in filing pretrial motions. An investigator, John Atwell, joined the team, and the trio set about preparing Schulz’ defense.

The engineer’s account of what happened that October night three years ago has not changed. He maintains that Kiracofe took a swing at him and that the gun went off accidentally during the ensuing struggle. But when the case goes to trial on March 6, Schulz promises that new evidence will bask the fateful confrontation in an entirely new light.

‘Facts Not What They Seem’

“The facts are not what they seem, and there is information as to Kiracofe’s credibility that will come out at trial,” Schulz said.

Schulz and his attorney declined to discuss legal strategy. But they did point to one piece of evidence they believe discredits the prosecution’s case--Kiracofe’s settlement of a civil lawsuit against Schulz.

Kiracofe filed the $1-million complaint soon after the shooting, claiming that the engineer’s “negligence” had caused his injuries, loss of income and emotional trauma. A Sept. 9, 1986, letter from Kiracofe’s attorney, Nicholas Leto Jr., to Schulz’ attorney, states that Kiracofe was injured because of Schulz’s “carelessness” and the “negligent manner” in which he handled his pistol.

“At the same time, John Kiracofe was testifying (at Schulz’ preliminary hearing) that this was anything but negligence,” said Florance. “There is a major difference between attempted murder and an accidental shooting, which is no crime at all.”

On July 8, 1987, Kiracofe settled his lawsuit against Schulz. Documents show that the pilot accepted $20,000 from Schulz’s insurance company. Kiracofe could not be reached for comment.

“These documents, where my actions are described as negligence, support my argument that this was an unintentional act,” Schulz said.

Schulz does not deny that he went to Kiracofe’s home at about 7 p.m. on Oct. 29. But he maintains the visit was spurred by Kiracofe--who allegedly invited him there while the two were talking on the phone about Vuich the previous night. (Kiracofe denies ever speaking to Schulz before the 29th, and there are no records of telephone calls between the two.)

According to the defense account, Schulz picked up the gun, the gasoline and the box with the pillow--which Schulz used for testing rounds indoors--from William Busk, a friend he met earlier that evening at an El Cajon bar. Busk was returning the firearm, which he reportedly had borrowed from Schulz. The gasoline was fuel for a scooter Schulz intended to buy from a friend of Busk’s later that night.

(Schulz said there were no rag strips in the car and claims that evidence was “fabricated” by authorities anxious to paint the engineer as a crazed bomber bent on torching Kiracofe’s house.)

When Schulz drove up to Kiracofe’s home, he said he saw a man inside, pointing a gun at the ceiling. To protect himself, Schulz said he placed his gun in a box--not the one with a pillow in it--where he could reach it if necessary. Kiracofe opened the door and immediately took a swing at Schulz, the engineer says. As he reached inside the box for his gun, Schulz stumbled. The weapon fired.

Schulz said he waited to see if Kiracofe was all right, but that the wounded pilot came at him with a gun. So he fled.

Schulz concedes that his story is somewhat improbable. But the engineer insists that given a fair trial, he can prove to a jury that he is innocent of the charge against him and should be freed. The strongest element of his defense, he says, is “who I am, my background.”

“There is a fire inside me that just wants the truth to come out in this thing,” Schulz said. “I’ve always been a fighter, and I’m looking at this as a new career. I just want a jury to hear my story.”

His attorney believes his client has some powerful cards to play.

“If a very bright man (like Schulz) was going to commit an offense like this, he wouldn’t be in custody now, he wouldn’t have been charged and he probably would have gotten away with it,” Florance said.

Wants Pippin Off Case

Before the courtroom drama unfolds, there are a bevy of pretrial motions Schulz believes he must win to ensure he receives a fair hearing. The most important among them is his attempt to recuse the district attorney and have the state attorney general’s office handle his case.

Because he has a civil lawsuit pending against Pippin, Schulz maintains it is inappropriate for the district attorney’s office to serve as prosecutor. He has written long letters to Dist. Atty. Edwin Miller, Atty. Gen. John Van de Kamp and Gov. George Deukmejian arguing that point.

“If Pippin convicts me, then that obviously has some bearing on the civil suit,” said Schulz, whose letters have not been answered.

Pragmatic and patient, Schulz says he will battle “as long as it takes” to clear his name and get acquitted of the charge. If he is reconvicted, he will appeal again. Given that scenario, his tentative 1992 parole date could come around before a final verdict on the case comes in.

If a jury agrees with his version of the facts and sets him free early next year, Schulz said he’s not sure what he would do. His career in the defense industry is over. Janice Vuich, his one-time love, has not spoken to him in years. In December, 1986, Schulz pleaded guilty to making a threatening telephone call to Vuich from his cell at the county jail. Schulz said she recently told prosecutors she fears for her life because Schulz’s mother sent her a birthday card.

Most of his General Dynamics friends have been lost--”it’s a dog-eat-dog world and they all wanted my position,” he reasons. And any contacts in the defense industry he might have exploited as a private consultant have grown stale.

His attorney suggests he take the bar exam and become a lawyer. But after all he’s been through, Schulz said he’s sour on the law profession and knows it’s not for him.

One area of the law does pique his interest, however.

“I met a lot of people in the criminal justice system and I can’t turn my back on them,” he says. “You become close to them, you listen to their stories. A lot of them in there should not be there.

“I see a lot of problems in the system and I might like to try to do something to change it.”