A false sense of security in L.A. County jail

After watching him struggle for decades with mental illness and drug addiction, Thomas Lingenfelter’s family felt he was safest when he was in jail. At least then he’d have food to eat and a place to sleep at night.

As it turned out, jail was no refuge.

Lingenfelter, 51, was beaten to death Nov. 8 in his cell at Twin Towers jail, just north of downtown Los Angeles. He died in a 96-cell wing reserved for inmates with mental health problems. His cellmate, a younger, stronger inmate who also had a long history of mental illness, was charged with Lingenfelter’s killing.

Detectives believe Lingenfelter’s cellmate beat, kicked and stomped him to death in their cell of about 100 square feet on the 5th floor of the county’s newest jail. Deputies assigned to the facility said they didn’t see or hear anything until another inmate shouted, “Man down!” and pointed to Lingenfelter’s bloodied corpse on the concrete floor.

Sheriff’s officials are investigating the decision to place Lingenfelter, homeless and frail from years of drug abuse, alone in a cell with Jay Selznick, a 27-year-old carjacking suspect and martial-arts enthusiast.

“We always felt he was safe in jail or the mental hospital. I can’t imagine what he went through or what provoked this guy,” said James Sterling, Lingenfelter’s older brother, speaking from his home in West Virginia. “You go to jail and you’re supposed to be in a safe environment. If he’s right there within sight, where was the guard? What was going on?”

Selznick and Lingenfelter were among thousands of inmates with mental health issues who receive treatment each year in the Los Angeles County jails. Sheriff Lee Baca has said that caring for the mentally ill is among the most challenging aspects of operating the nation’s largest jail system, which processes more than 200,000 inmates every year.

The paths that led the two inmates to Tower One, Pod 152-A, Cell No. 7 were typical of many mentally ill inmates in the Los Angeles County jails. Both had been in jail before and both had struggled to control mental illness.

Selznick was awaiting trial on carjacking and joyriding charges after allegedly assaulting his mother at her San Fernando Valley home and driving off in her car. He was arrested Sept. 26 by San Luis Obispo police officers who responded to a complaint that Selznick was loitering at a doughnut shop and learned he was wanted.

Lingenfelter was arrested Oct. 14 by Long Beach police for allegedly violating terms of his parole from a prior conviction on weapons charges. He and Selznick were assigned to bunk together Nov. 6, two days before Lingenfelter died on his cell floor.

Theirs was one of 96 cells with nearly 200 inmates that surrounded a glass-enclosed booth housing a sheriff’s custody officer who has a partial view into the cells.

Two deputies also patrol the halls on that floor, looking into each cell at least once per hour to make sure the inmates are safe. The deputies last inspected Cell No. 7 about 10:39 p.m. and reported both Selznick and Lingenfelter alive and well.

Sometime after that, Selznick punched, kicked and stomped Lingenfelter to death, authorities said. By the time deputies arrived about 11:15, Selznick had washed his hands. His right foot was swollen, apparently from repeatedly kicking his cellmate, said Sheriff’s Det. Charles Morales, who is investigating the death.

Paramedics pronounced Lingenfelter dead in his cell. He had been so badly beaten that his head appeared “lopsided,” Morales said. An autopsy found skull fractures on the front and back of his head and severe brain trauma.

The death in Cell 7 followed decades of concern by Lingenfelter’s family. The youngest of six children, Lingenfelter was raised in several Southern California cities, including San Pedro, Bellflower and Canoga Park. During high school, he began skipping school, hanging out with a bad crowd and fighting with his parents, relatives said.

One of Lingenfelter’s older brothers once caught him pushing their mother. Ken Sterling said he beat his younger brother after that, sending him to a hospital. “I think the only thing he understood is when he got beat up.”

James Sterling said his brother subsequently struggled with mental illness, although he did not know his diagnosis. He and his siblings occasionally sent Lingenfelter money over the years. But his adult life was a path from one arrest to the next, one jail cell to another. His rap sheet included convictions for drug and weapons possession and armed robbery. He spent time in a mental hospital.

His family eventually grew weary. “There’s nothing really that can be done. We did what we could,” James Sterling said. “I can’t spend all my time chasing after Tommy,”

Jay Selznick’s family was reluctant to speak about his past without talking to an attorney. But his father, Lew Selznick, said his son was struck with mental illness a decade ago when he was in his late teens.

“He and I were as close as a father and son could be. When this thing hit him at 16 or 17, he was not the same person as he was as a kid,” Lew Selznick said.

Jay Selznick now faces a potential sentence of life in prison if convicted of killing Lingenfelter, in addition to the carjacking and joyriding charges.

The Sheriff’s Department has opened an internal-affairs investigation into the events that preceded the homicide. Among the chief concerns is why two men of such disparate ages ended up in the same cell, said Michael Gennaco, chief attorney for the Office of Independent Review, which monitors internal investigations by the Sheriff’s Department.

“Hundreds, if not thousands, of these decisions have to be made on a daily basis. There are limited people assigned to these responsibilities. It’s a very challenging and daunting situation,” Gennaco said.

Sheriff’s officials said the officer assigned to the control booth had a difficult job, keeping watch on 96 cells, each of which has metal doors with large windows.

“Our internal affairs investigation will find out exactly what happened, how it happened and whether we need to make any changes to make sure it won’t happen again,” said Sheriff’s Department spokesman Steve Whitmore.

The department houses nearly 2,000 mentally ill inmates, about 10% of the county jail population. Prisoners are screened by specialists from the county Department of Mental Health, which identifies and classifies those in need of mental health care.

After those inmates are screened, the Sheriff’s Department decides in which cells to place them, Whitmore said.

Baca has said the county jails are not the best place to house inmates in need of significant psychiatric care.

“The mentally ill do not belong in our jails. They belong in a facility designed for the mentally ill where they can receive the treatment required for their specific individual care,” Whitmore said. “The L.A. County Jail system was designed to house misdemeanants ... but our jail staff, management on down, every day do their best to make this work the most efficiently, safest way possible.”

stuart.pfeifer@latimes.com