2 Fighters Take Opposite Paths in the Pursuit of Justice

As they squared off in the trial of Costa Mesa preschool killer Steven Abrams, prosecutor Debora Lloyd and public defender Denise Gragg could hardly have presented more contrasting cases.

Lloyd, a veteran deputy district attorney, portrayed Abrams as a monster, saying that death was the only appropriate penalty for someone who would drive a hulking Cadillac onto a Costa Mesa playground and kill two innocent children.

Gragg, a longtime deputy public defender, gently rubbed Abrams’ back and urged the jury to spare his life, describing him as a sick man deserving of the state’s help, not its execution chamber.

Although these forty-something women have both sworn to uphold the law, their views on criminal justice could hardly be more different.

Lloyd’s career highlight is her withering cross-examination of a defendant who confessed to murder on the witness stand. To commemorate the victory, her boss presented her a framed photograph of TV attorney Perry Mason.

Gragg, on the other hand, routinely defends the seemingly indefensible--a rogue’s gallery of Orange County’s most notorious criminals, including child killers, mass murderers and rapists. She says she is driven by a passion spurred by a vehement opposition to the death penalty.

As if to underscore her commitment to clients, the bumper sticker on Gragg’s car reads: “My child was inmate of the month at county jail.”

Lloyd and Gragg are not friends. “We are totally different, there’s no question about that,” Lloyd said.

Yet both clearly respect each other’s courtroom skills and commitment to ensuring that the legal system functions properly.

“I’m victim-oriented, she’s defendant-oriented,” said Lloyd. “But I respect her for her beliefs.”

Both are also among the most respected attorneys in the state. This month the California Public Defenders Assn. named Gragg its attorney of the year and the California District Attorneys Assn. tabbed Lloyd the state’s top prosecutor.

Gragg was cited for her career work on death penalty cases. Three of the four death penalty cases she has handled, Abrams’ included, have resulted in life sentences rather than death. Those numbers are extraordinary, her colleagues say, considering the conservative bent of Orange County juries.

She still grieves over her lone death verdict, which came in the case of John Famalaro, convicted of abducting, sexually assaulting and murdering a Newport Beach teenager whose body he stored in a freezer.

“It is just immoral and beyond our rights to take the life of somebody else,” Gragg said. “Even if you believe in it in the abstract, the people getting executed are the ones least able to defend themselves, the poorest, mentally disabled, minorities, people represented by inadequate counsel.”

Prosecutors and colleagues say Gragg is effective in death penalty trials because she helps jurors understand that a human life is in their hands.

“I think her passionate opposition to the death penalty comes across intensely and effectively with jurors. They know she’s not giving a speech,” said Orange County public defender Carl Holmes. “They know she feels it and she’s involved in a fight to save a client’s life, and life should be respected.”

Former Orange County prosecutor Chris Evans has a unique perspective on both women: He supervised Lloyd on the homicide unit and opposed Gragg in two death penalty trials.

“The thing about Denise was there’s just an inherent belief in her cause that she’d broadcast to the jury. And I tell you, it was scary,” Evans said. “She’s just sincere . . . and it totally came across.”

Raised in Yorba Linda, Gragg earned her law degree at UC Berkeley’s Boalt Hall. She said the highlight of her 15-year career came last year when an Orange County man was released from prison after she helped prove he had been wrongly convicted of murder.

The experience in the case of DeWayne McKinney helps her to argue against capital punishment--prosecutors initially sought the death penalty against him--and to answer the question she hears time and again: How can you defend these people?

“Making a difference in one person’s life, to know that person will live instead of die and you had a part in that, well that makes up for everything else in the job,” Gragg said. “Every day I go home I feel good about what I did. It’s moral work, not one day has it been boring and I made enough to support myself and my two children. That’s more than 99% of people can say about their jobs.”

Lloyd, meanwhile, grew up in Fresno and attended Western State University School of Law in Fullerton before joining the district attorney’s office 15 years ago.

Defendants have made a grave mistake by underestimating her, said Tustin Police Sgt. Tom Tarpley, who investigated several cases that Lloyd prosecuted.

“When you first meet her, she appears to be this cute 10-pound Labrador puppy. When she gets in the courtroom, she’s an 80-pound pit bull who won’t let go of you until she emerges victorious,” Tarpley said.

Kevin O’Hara, a man accused of killing his wife, was convicted in large part because of his own testimony, Tarpley said. In her cross-examination, Lloyd grilled O’Hara repeatedly about past acts of violence against women.

“She really did her homework on him,” Tarpley said. “‘When he got up on the witness stand and tried to minimize things, she was able to recount very minor details that tripped him up.”

The prosecutors’ association noted Lloyd’s courtroom success, work ethic and expertise in cases in which no body was recovered. In three such cases, she has won murder convictions.

She also won a life sentence earlier this year in the case of a Newport Beach man accused of killing his wife in a rented boat and dumping her body at sea. The case was particularly challenging because there was little physical evidence to show that the woman died violently, and defendant Eric Bechler testified that his wife fell from the boat and drowned.

Lloyd spent two years on the case, working with detectives during a lengthy investigation and building a rapport with relatives of victim Pegye Bechler.

“There’s nothing worse than losing a loved one to violence,” Lloyd said. “And when it goes to the judicial system, the families have no control. I try to make that part better. The convictions are not going to fill the hole in their heart from the loss of their son or daughter, but it does make things easier.”