Maul-case DA slams dog owners' characters
Henry K. Lee, Chronicle Staff Writer
©2002 San Francisco Chronicle

March 18, 2002

San Francisco dog-mauling victim Diane Whipple died needlessly because of the arrogance of a couple who knew "with their own eyes" that their dogs were dangerous but did nothing about it, a prosecutor told the jury today.

Whipple, 33, died a horrific death in the hallway of her Pacific Heights apartment on Jan. 26, 2001, San Francisco Assistant District Attorney James Hammer told a Los Angeles jury in closing statements in the trial of her neighbors, Marjorie Knoller and Robert Noel.

"This case boils down to a young woman, ripped to death from head to toe in the hallway of her own apartment building," Hammer said. "What makes it so sad is that it didn't have to happen. She could be alive today -- and she should be alive today, to grow old."

Hammer said Knoller's tearful testimony last week about her efforts to protect Whipple was in sharp contrast to comments she and Noel previously made in media interviews, in which the two blamed Whipple for wearing a pheromone- based perfume and for not immediately going into her apartment, the prosecutor said.

In one interview, Knoller was asked whether she took responsibility for the attack.

"And cold as ice she said, 'No, she should have closed her door. That's what I would have done,' " Hammer said this morning. "Those are the real faces of these defendants."

Hammer forcefully accused Knoller of play-acting on the stand and derided her for describing herself as a hero who valiantly tried to stop the mauling. She never called 911, Hammer reminded jurors today, and never asked how Whipple was doing immediately after the attack.

"Why do you lie about it and call yourself a hero?" Hammer asked. "She couldn't even keep her lies straight."

Knoller's attorney, Nedra Ruiz, was expected to give closing statements later today. Before Hammer spoke, Judge James Warren reminded jurors that they were to consider each of the defendants' cases separately.

Hammer's statements came after a month of testimony in a high-profile trial marked by grisly autopsy photos, graphic descriptions of Whipple's last moments and emotional courtroom theatrics by Ruiz, who at one point dropped down to all fours to re-enact the attack.

Whipple, a college lacrosse coach, suffered bite wounds all over her body after she was attacked by a 120-pound Presa Canario named Bane. She had been returning to her apartment after buying groceries.

Knoller, 46, is charged with second-degree murder in the mauling. Both Knoller and Noel, who are attorneys, are charged with involuntary manslaughter and keeping a vicious dog whose attack causes death.

If convicted, Knoller could receive 15 years in prison. Noel, 60, could receive four years.

Their trial was moved to Los Angeles because of extensive publicity in the Bay Area.

During the trial, Knoller and her attorney seemed to blame her plight on prosecutors, along with the media, the victim's partner, Sharon Smith, and the state prison system.

Knoller spent 12 hours on the stand last week, recounting her battle to get on top of Whipple and striking the "crazed" Bane as the dog went for Whipple's throat.

At one point, Knoller, racked by sobs, cried and heaved convulsively as she described her futile attempts to control a dog that she had regarded as a loving pet.

Today, Hammer called Knoller's emotion on the stand "her little cry" and a "cry and pout on command" that she and her attorney concocted for the jury.

" 'I feel such sorrow for Diane and her family,' " Hammer said, mocking Knoller. "Then why didn't you write a letter? Why didn't you call her partner?"

The couple owned another Presa Canario named Hera, who got loose during the attack but whose role in it was unclear. Both Hera and Bane have since been destroyed.

During the trial, prosecutors called 30 people who described terrifying encounters with the dogs. Witnesses also testified that the defendants were "associates" of the Aryan Brotherhood prison gang and worked with gang members to raise, breed and train Presa Canarios

Hammer also delved into a "triad" relationship involving Knoller, Noel and Pelican Bay state prison inmate Paul "Cornfed" Schneider, a leader of the Aryan Brotherhood and the couple's adopted son.

This morning, Hammer derided Noel for writing a letter to Schneider 15 days before the fatal dog attack in which he referred to Whipple as a "timorous little mousy blonde" who nearly had a "coronary" when she saw the Presa Canarios at the elevator of the apartment building.

"Big, brave Mr. Noel," Hammer said, describing Noel's comments as "sick."

The trial drew national attention not only for the savagery of the attack and the comments the defendants made afterward, but also for the attorneys' distinctive personalities and courtroom styles.

Hammer, who studied to be a priest but decided instead to become a prosecutor, and Kimberly Guilfoyle Newsom, a former model, have methodically whittled at Knoller's credibility throughout the trial.

Ruiz has been equally forceful in her convictions, pressing her belief that Knoller did all she could to protect Whipple from a "berserko crazy dog." Ruiz,

an attorney in the firm of flamboyant San Francisco attorney J. Tony Serra, gave opening statements that were alternately tearful and theatrical.

Noel's attorney, Bruce Hotchkiss, has kept a low profile, contending that his client should not be held liable because he was out of town that day. Noel did not testify.

Both Ruiz and San Francisco District Attorney Terence Hallinan have been ordered to come to a court hearing in San Francisco in May for alleged violations of the judge's gag order, which bars attorneys in the case from saying anything outside court that goes beyond describing the proceedings.

Hallinan has already apologized for accusing Knoller of "making things up" in her testimony before the grand jury that indicted her. Ruiz has angered Warren by suggesting outside court that the victim's domestic partner had lied on the stand.

For all the seriousness of the case, the trial has been marked by moments of levity. At one point, Warren chided Ruiz after she tried for a second time to get down on the floor to reenact the attack.

"It would be helpful for the decorum of the court if you would stay on two feet instead of four," the judge said.

While instructing the jurors this morning, Warren referred to the theatrics that have marked the trial: "This case has had a lot of emotional excitement in it. Reading the law may not achieve the heights that counsel have. I have to read it -- no histrionics, no gyrations."

E-mail Henry K. Lee at hlee@sfchronicle.com.

After the crying and shouting from a defendant, the bloody autopsy pictures from the prosecution and the histrionics of a lawyer who crawled on the floor, the San Francisco dog mauling case is coming down to the law.

With final arguments scheduled for Monday, Superior Court Judge James Warren plans to instruct jurors in the law of manslaughter and second-degree murder before they hear speeches designed to sway them in one direction or the other.

Ultimately, the jury will have to decide whether defendants Marjorie Knoller and Robert Noel were indifferent to the safety of their neighbors when they decided to keep two huge presa canario dogs, Bane and Hera, in their small apartment in San Francisco's trendy Pacific Heights.

"Their defense has to be that it didn't occur to them that these dogs might attack and kill someone," said Loyola University Law professor Laurie Levenson. "The prosecution's argument is that keeping these dogs was like playing with hand grenades."

Prosecutors called 30 people who told of scary encounters with the dogs long before Diane Whipple was mauled to death by Bane.

On the witness stand, Knoller, who is charged with second-degree murder, insisted those who came forward to say the dogs terrorized them were "inaccurate" or "mistaken."

She wept bitterly and even screamed on the witness stand as she spoke of her beloved pet's transformation into a vicious killer.

"I saw a pet who had been loving, docile, friendly, good toward people, turn into a crazed, wild animal," cried Knoller.

"I could never imagine this dog turning into what he turned into," she said, her voice rising to a hoarse shout. "It's still incomprehensible what he did in that hallway."

Prosecutors are likely to argue it was not incomprehensible at all given the dogs' past. If the neighbors are believed, then Bane and Hera snapped, growled, lunged at and even bit people and other dogs in the neighborhood. Bane also nearly bit off Noel's finger during a dog fight.

"The question is should they have realized that keeping these dogs was an unacceptable risk," Levenson said.

The 140-pound Bane attacked Whipple, a 33-year-old lacrosse coach, on Jan. 26, 2001, as she was bringing groceries into her apartment. She lived across the hall from Knoller and Noel, both lawyers.

In addition to the murder count, Knoller, 46, is charged with involuntary manslaughter and keeping a mischievous dog that killed a person. Her 60-year-old husband faces the latter two charges. He was not present when the attack occurred.

Their trial was moved to Los Angeles due to extensive pretrial publicity, much of it created by the defendants. The judge revealed at trial's end that an expert hired by the defense early in the case concluded there would have been no murder charge had the couple expressed remorse, taken responsibility for the death and assumed a low profile.

The prosecution, showing why there was hostility against the couple in San Francisco, played a videotape of an interview on "Good Morning America" in which they appeared to blame Whipple for her own death.

Prosecutor Jim Hammer also read as the last piece of evidence a letter written by Noel to a state prisoner and member of the Aryan Brotherhood prison gang who was adopted by the couple and arranged for them to raise the presa canarios.

"There is no way to ease into this. Bane is dead, as is our neighbor," the letter began. Noel then promised to fight to keep their other dog, Hera, alive.

"Neighbors be damned," he wrote. "If they don't like living in the building with her, they can move."

Bane was destroyed immediately after the attack. Hera was put down after a long legal fight by the couple ended when the state Supreme Court refused to hear their case.

If convicted, Knoller could draw up to 15 years in prison while Noel could be sentenced to four years.