Legal System Improvises Amid Search for Escapee

One couple were treated to an unplanned outdoor wedding and a judge heard some probate matters on the courthouse steps Friday in Santa Monica. The reason: Deputies were still searching for a felon who kicked his way through the wall of a lockup and vanished into the crawl space between the floors of the Santa Monica Courthouse.

The four-story building was closed for the day and a dog and electronic searching equipment were brought in as D’Marc Lee, a convicted carjacker facing a 50-years-to-life term under the state’s “three strikes” law, went into his second day on the lam.

A probation officer jokingly suggested that the best thing to do would be to cover the courthouse with a tent and fumigate the building, but commanders on the scene decided to let heat, fatigue and thirst take their toll.

Bailiffs prowled through the building with a canine unit and engineers from Hughes Aircraft, who volunteered to help the search with motion- and heat-sensing radar equipment. Federal drug agents also joined the hunt with electronic devices of their own.

“There’s no need to go in and blow the building up. He’s no threat, and he’s posing no threat,” said Deputy Brian Jones, a sheriff’s spokesman. “We can afford to wait him out. . . . If that doesn’t work, we’ll have to come out with another plan.”

Deputy Phil Geisler, who crawled through several of the building’s narrow hidden spaces together with his canine partner, Eros, a Belgian Malinois, said he saw signs of Lee’s presence in the form of debris and torn wiring, but he did not catch a glimpse of the 5-foot-11-inch, 185-pound fugitive.

“We still hear something moving up there,” said sheriff’s Cmdr. Patrick J. Holland, who headed the search operation. “We hope that’s him. If not, there’s some pretty big rats up there.”

Lee, also known as Joseph T. Taylor, was placed in a small holding cell Thursday afternoon, shortly after a jury found him guilty of two separate carjackings.

Because of previous convictions for residential burglary, armed robbery and auto theft, Lee, 23, faced two prison terms of 25 years to life, said Deputy Dist. Atty. Lori Aiu.

“He was calm in the courtroom,” she said. “He said he understood what the consequences were.”

But soon after he changed from civilian clothes to blue prison overalls, Lee kicked a small hole in the lath-and-plaster wall next to the toilet and escaped despite his height and bulk.

One deputy glimpsed Lee going out of sight, while another deputy in a jury room next door sounded the alarm after seeing a foot pop down through a ceiling tile. .

The building was immediately evacuated and stayed closed through Friday, forcing most court business to be put off or moved, although an official accepted some last-minute documents and promised to file them on Monday with Friday’s date.

Since all the parties were present for two hours worth of probate cases, Judge Irving Shimer took care of those matters on an outdoor walkway.

This was not the first time he had continued with his work despite adverse circumstances, Shimer said, recalling the time a bomb scare emptied the courthouse on a rainy day and he granted a woman an annulment of marriage huddled with her lawyer and his clerk under the eaves of the nearby Civic Auditorium.

“Now and again if you’re in public service, if you care, you do the right thing even if it feels uncomfortable,” he said.

Quipped court administrator Randall Henderson: “If there was World War III, if they drop the bomb, Judge Shimer will be out here doing his calendar.”

Judge Robert W. Thomas went into the shade of an oak tree to preside over the marriage of Danon and Yvette Wirt, the son and new daughter-in-law of longtime court employee Darlene McKinney, as Eros the police dog frolicked nearby.

Citizens who took off work to appear in court were turned away without explanation.

Manuel Nieto, a county water treatment plant operator, came to contest a traffic ticket. His son, Cory, said his father should be allowed to reschedule at his own convenience.

“They let someone escape, so we should be able to set our own court date,” he said.

Oblivious to the fact that an escaped prisoner was on the loose, Veronica Herrera and a friend basked in the sunshine on a blanket on the courthouse lawn.

“You know, it’s probably just like any other day in Los Angeles,” said Herrera, 27, a student at Cal State Long Beach. “I’m sure there are always convicts on the run.”