WOODLAND — Is Marco Topete a cold, heartless killer deserving of execution for the murder of a Yolo County sheriff’s deputy, or is he a damaged yet remorseful man who should live out his existence behind prison walls?
Attorneys offered the dueling images Tuesday during closing arguments in the penalty phase for Topete, who fatally shot Deputy Jose “Tony” Diaz in rural Dunnigan on June 15, 2008.
“There are cases that are so rare, and so horrific, that only the death penalty is appropriate, and this is one of those cases,” District Attorney Jeff Reisig told the five-man, seven-woman jury that will decide Topete’s fate.
Defense attorney Dwight Samuel, meanwhile, urged jurors to show mercy for his client.
“Marco is not the worst of the worst,” Samuel said. “Yes, he’s responsible for what he did … but he does not deserve the death penalty.”
No one has disputed what Topete, 39, did that Father’s Day.
After leading Diaz on a high-speed pursuit with his infant daughter in the back seat of his car, Topete fired 17 shots from an AR-15 assault rifle, killing the 37-year-old deputy, soccer coach and father of three girls with a single shot to his chest.
He was convicted last month of murder with the special circumstances of killing a peace officer, murder to avoid arrest, murder by an active gang participant and lying in wait. Any one of the charges make Topete eligible for punishment by death or life in prison without a possibility of parole.
During the four-week penalty phase, lawyers presented both aggravating and mitigating circumstances for jurors to consider in reaching their verdict
On Tuesday, Reisig painted Topete as a ruthless Norteño gang member who, despite society’s efforts to intervene, chose to spend his adult life committing a series of increasingly violent crimes.
“He’s descended a ladder of moral depravity that has taken him to where he sits now,” Reisig said. “Life in prison will simply not prevent Marco Topete from lashing out again.”
Reisig said Topete lured Diaz to his death “like an animal led to slaughter” and has failed to show remorse ever since. He played expletive-laden recordings of jailhouse conversations between Topete and his wife and mother in which Topete derides the slain deputy for his actions on the night of the shooting.
“He did not display one ounce of mercy for Tony Diaz, yet he seeks it from you now,” Reisig said.
The district attorney showed the jury graphic photos taken of Diaz shortly after he was pronounced dead at Woodland Memorial Hospital, and displayed the deputy’s “last physical remnants” — the uniform Diaz wore the night he died, along with his boots, utility belt and the bloodied protective vest that was unable to block a .223-caliber bullet.
Topete “wasn’t just trying to kill him with this weapon of war — he was trying to annihilate him,” Reisig said. “For Tony Diaz, justice must be done.”
Samuel, the defense attorney, disputed that it was Topete’s choices alone that put him in his current spot. He described the man as “damaged goods,” the product of a “toxic” father who physically abused him and took him along on drug deals.
“We’ve got an outlaw father, and now we’ve got an outlaw son,” Samuel said. “Is it Marco Topete’s choice? No, it is not.”
When his father went to prison, Topete suffered an “emotional breakdown” that led to substance abuse, acts of aggression and eventually incarceration that offered little or no effective treatment, Samuel said.
“The (prison) system … only created more problems,” including deeper gang affiliations that were necessary for survival, Samuel added. That led to roughly eight years in solitary confinement at Pelican Bay State Prison, the effects of which were “horrendous.”
Topete was “psychologically ill-equipped to reintegrate into a free society,” Samuel said. The stress of a new family and lack of work escalated on June 15, 2008, with intoxication, family arguments and, ultimately, the confrontation with Diaz.
Although jurors rejected the “stressor” defense during the trial’s guilt phase, Samuel urged them to reconsider it as an argument for life in prison.
Samuel also scoffed at the notion that Topete lacked remorse for Diaz’s death. He asked the jury to replay the video of Topete’s six-hour interrogation that followed his arrest.
He said Topete was “shaking and crying” as he confessed to shooting Diaz in what he described as “a tragic accident.”
“Just saying that, accepting that, is in and of itself remorse,” Samuel said. “He needs to get an award for this if he’s making it up.”
Samuel concluded by displaying a photo of Topete’s daughter Citlalih, now 31/2, on a large screen in the courtroom. For Topete to never again be part of her life, he said, is a fate worse than death.
“Celebrate life. Give life a chance. Vote for life,” he said.
Jurors received the case at about 4:20 p.m. They were seen leaving the courthouse about 10 minutes later and returned this morning to resume their deliberations.
— Reach Lauren Keene at [email protected] or (530) 747-8048. Follow her on Twitter @laurenkeene