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A Strange Twist of Fate: A New Years Day Car Crash Leads to Fugitives' Capture By Teresa Rochester Jan. 7 -- New Years day wasn't two hours old when the driver of a green 1995 Volkswagen Jetta lost control of the car as it headed westbound on the Santa Monica Freeway toward the McClure Tunnel. The car slammed into a curb and possibly a guardrail before coming to a stop. One passenger was ejected from the vehicle and was found by paramedics walking around the accident scene confused, upset and unable to remember what had happened. Another passenger sustained a broken arm, while a third suffered trauma. The driver, who was arrested for driving under the influence, walked away uninjured from the badly mangled car. When Santa Monica police arrived at the scene to help the CHP with its investigation, what they found wasn't exactly routine. Their discovery led to the capture of two fugitives wanted in Louisiana and Denver for attempted murder and conspiracy. "I would say five years ago it would be very strange," SMPD Lt. Frank Fabrega said of the discovery. "Today with the investigative tools we give our police officers it's more likely to happen." As paramedics tended to the injured, police spotted a white Ford van sitting on the side of the freeway. The van's six occupants milled around. Unsure if the group was involved in the accident or witnessed it, police went to investigate. The group told police they were friends with the people in the Jetta. And then officers began asking for names and identification. One man identified himself as Donald Cagnolotti but added that he didn't have identification. Another man identified himself Lawrence Brown. Police found that Brown's name was similar to that on an outstanding arrest warrant. Brown admitted that his real name was Lawrence Darnell Crowder. The 32-year-old Illinois native was arrested for providing false information to a police officer and was held on $500 bail. Searching the van, police discovered a wallet, which Cagnolotti said was his. Inside the wallet was a birth certificate for a Floyd Griffin Curtis. A call to dispatch revealed some surprising news: Curtis was wanted for 11 counts of attempted first degree murder, 11 counts of armed robbery and four counts of aggravated criminal damage in Jefferson Parish, Louisiana. Curtis had allegedly walked into a Bridge City bar with three other men in early April of 1992 and started shooting with Ak-47s and shotguns. And then the trio robbed the bar's patrons. "It was really a cowboy shoot 'em up at the OK Corral thing," said Col. Fred Williams of the Jefferson Parish Sheriffs Department. "He (Curtis) was the last defendant. The rest have been adjudicated." Curtis told a Santa Monica detective that during his nine years on the run he had served 10 months in a California prison. For what and where he did not say. Curtis went through the system using his alias. And while the fingerprints of prisoners are sent to the FBI for documentation, in Curtis' case a match was never made. "I firmly believe this guy would have slipped through the system if it hadn't been for the investigative skills of our field police," said Fabrega. "We encourage them to be investigators in the field." On Jan. 2 the detective drove Curtis to the Los Angeles County jail where he awaits extradition. Also in the car was Krizma Ginnane. Standing on the side of the freeway in the cold and light fog, Ginnane, another passenger in the van, gave police her real name. Officers ran her name through their mobile data computer and discovered she was wanted in Denver, CO. Bright, attractive and articulate, the 28-year-old mother of two was good at what she did -- helping to bilk a host of companies, including a children's hospital, hotels and temporary work agencies, of $320,000. "She was probably one of the most successful," said Denver Chief Deputy Attorney Phil Parrott, whose prosecution of the racketeering ring in late 1999 led to the indictment of 15 people. The group would convince people to give them copies of their paychecks, which were then scanned into a computer by one ringleader who would "create beautiful looking duplicate paychecks," Parrott said. Ginnane's job was to cash the checks. At other times she would go to work at a temporary agency and earn a paycheck, which was then duplicated and cashed. One paycheck, Parrott said, was turned into a $93,000 theft. A 1991 graduate of South High School in Denver, Ginnane worked primarily as a dancer, which along with the racketeering supported an addiction to cocaine, police said. She pleaded guilty to felony conspiracy and could have been sentenced to six years in prison. Instead, Ginnane, like most of the others indicted in the case, was sentenced to 120 days of home monitoring, $25,000 in restitution and 10 years probation. "I agree I made a very big mistake," Ginnane wrote to the court in January 2000 as part of her probation sentencing. "At that time I had a substance abuse problem. For the last year I have made positive changes in my life. "I have two young children, whom need their mother," she continued. "I would like to raise them in a healthy, secure lifestyle. I would like to put this particular situation behind me and begin living a life with my children." Not long after her sentencing Ginnane began testing positive for drugs. On three dates in March of 2000 she tested positive for cocaine. In April, the District Attorneys office filed its first probation complaint against her. In May, Ginnane's probation was revoked and she was sentenced to 12 years of probation and placed in the female offender program. By September, Ginnane had fled town. Parrott said that when Ginnane is brought back to Colorado, another $4,000 in restitution will be added to her existing fine. She will have to pay back the cost of her trip back to Denver, and her probation will be revoked once again. "I can tell you, certainly on this point, if we prove the revocation we'll ask that she be given no more chances and sent to the penitentiary," Parrott said. "But it is not up to me and I'll have to prove she violated her probation." Resolute as he is in seeking jail time for Ginnane, something sounding like sadness creeps into Parrott's voice when he speaks about her. "I really care about Krizma. We did the best we could do," said Parrott. "It's like a sheep turning to a wolf. It's her modus operandi." |
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