News (Media Awareness Project) - US CA: Sunny, Star-Studded Street In Malibu Has A Shady Side |
Title: | US CA: Sunny, Star-Studded Street In Malibu Has A Shady Side |
Published On: | 1999-08-08 |
Source: | Los Angeles Times (CA) |
Fetched On: | 2008-09-06 00:15:10 |
SUNNY, STAR-STUDDED STREET IN MALIBU HAS A SHADY SIDE
MALIBU, CA -- In a quiet cul-de-sac overlooking the Pacific Ocean
where personal paradises sell for millions, homeowners are digesting
an unsettling lesson: Fat wallets make for strange bedfellows. And
moneyed neighborhoods don't get much stranger than those on Malibu's
tree-lined Zumirez Drive.
On the upside, sunsets and city lights sparkle across the water on
summer evenings. Homeowners can ride golf carts down to their private
beach. Barbra Streisand, X-Files creator Chris Carter and film score
composer Hans Zimmer reside here, just a few gated driveways apart.
But they aren't the only ones with a hunger for oceanfront
property.
Since 1991, U.S. officials have tried -- with mixed results -- to
seize four Zumirez homes from residents accused of narcotics
trafficking, marijuana cultivation and credit card fraud.
Under forfeiture laws, prosecutors can confiscate cars, real estate
and other property if they can show the assets are linked to a
criminal enterprise. But so many property cases in such close
proximity appear to have set a precedent in law enforcement. And it
leaves Zumirez at the bizarre junction of stardom, sleaze and wealth.
"If you're writing about what a weird street this is, you're on the
right track," said Jana Meek, a 73-year-old retiree who has lived
there for a quarter of a century. "This is a cultural comedy."
Justice Department officials assure that the cluster of seizure cases
on Zumirez is just serendipity. In fact, it may have arisen from a
chance collision of two trends in law enforcement: a scramble by
criminals to launder their money with smart investments, and pressure
on prosecutors to limit their zeal for real estate seizures to
property that can be sold at a profit.
"These are the houses they're going after -- they're not interested in
the '60 Nova, they're interested in the new Mercedes," said Richard
Troberman, a Seattle attorney and co-chair of the National Association
of Criminal Defense Lawyers' task force on forfeitures. "They're going
to go after the ones that [will] bring them the most money."
Expanded Powers
The government has long used its forfeiture power to seize all manner
of ill-gotten property -- from smuggled cargo in the 1780s to bootleg
distilleries during Prohibition.
After Congress expanded the power in 1984 to aid the war on drugs,
seizures skyrocketed. Proceeds from the sale of forfeited assets
routinely flow back to the agency that seized them, making the program
popular with law enforcement. Proceeds to the Justice and Treasury
departments exceeded $490 million last year alone.
Prosecutors also established a little-known set of guidelines to
ensure they don't pursue properties that will ultimately lose money.
With a few exceptions, prosecutors in Los Angeles won't pursue real
estate unless the owner's equity is at least $40,000, or 20 percent of
the property's value.
By that measure, the elegant homes on Zumirez Drive made for
near-perfect targets. Malibu's blazing real estate market has added
equity to virtually every home, and rising demand means the United
States could likely sell any house it seized there immediately -- at a
maximum profit.
At the same time, Justice Department officials say, criminals
increasingly tried to conceal their profits by pouring the money into
legitimate purchases, such as real estate in a hot market.
"If you're a criminal and you want to launder the proceeds, you . . .
invest in a nice property that's going to appreciate," said a senior
Justice Department official who spoke on condition of anonymity. "It's
not a coincidence all these are in Southern California. It's a
coincidence they're all on the same block."
Not Good Neighbors
When criminals begin to profit from their work, "they see themselves
as part of that elite class where they can party with the stars and
the politicos," said Dennis McKenzie, an analyst at the Treasury
Department's asset forfeiture section. "There are certain ZIP Codes
that give them status, and these guys tend to migrate to that."
But until whispers about indictments and warrants spilled into the
street, the law-abiding residents of Zumirez were none the wiser. In
retrospect, however, they say, this much was clear: Folks living in
the targeted houses made for lousy neighbors.
One man's kid became a paparazzo who still pursues the street's more
famous residents. Another allegedly cut down his neighbor's trees
without asking. And a third violated basic Malibu etiquette by letting
his lawn sprout weeds.
Father, Then Son
Gene Wall moved to the street in 1971, when the Malibu area called
Point Dume was known less for its star-studded hideaways than its
wild, open space. The land "was just stark. Just brown, no trees, no
nothing," he said.
He changed all that. On the 1 1/2 acres he had purchased for $59,000,
he planted sycamore trees, corn and marijuana -- which resulted in a
conviction, and probation, on cultivation charges in the early 1980s.
But the real trouble started a decade later. After a second raid -- in
which deputies shot his older son's pit bull and seized 152 grams of
cocaine and other drugs -- U.S. officials moved to seize his property.
Prosecutors filed the claim on the basis that Wall hadn't prevented
the son from selling drugs.
A U.S. District judge found that forfeiture would be too harsh a
penalty. Wall not only stayed, he also sued the county over the
deputies' conduct and settled for $650,000. Now a silver-haired
devotee of yoga, he still resides on the property with several
tenants, six Rottweilers and a peacock. A man-size replica of the
Statue of Liberty stands atop the carport.
And Wall's younger son now finds his father's Zumirez address helpful
- -- he's a paparazzo who takes pictures of the neighbors, including
Streisand.
Wall's explanation for the number of seizure cases on his street: "I
just think a bunch of bad eggs ended up here at the same time."
Credit Card Scam
The Satmax Family Limited Partnership plunked down $2.4 million last
fall for a cushy pad a few doors over from Streisand. Authorities now
say the buyer behind Satmax is Kenneth H. Taves, who stands accused of
one of the largest credit card scams in history. Regulators say Taves'
companies billed up to 900,000 credit card holders for Internet
services they didn't order, yielding him $45.5 million.
A court-appointed receiver alleges that Taves tried to conceal the
property by transferring the deed to a Canadian shell corporation
shortly after regulators swooped down on him. Taves remains in custody
in Los Angeles on related criminal charges.
Jana Meek, the retiree who lives next door, said Taves first appeared
in her driveway wearing a red leather motorcycle suit and offered to
pay $10,000 if she'd let his children play on her tennis court. (She
declined.) Later, she said, he sent a work crew to "butcher" at least
half a dozen eucalyptus trees in her backyard in order to improve the
view from his back window.
Some Zumirez residents figure their street's quirks are ready-made for
television. And they should know.
"I almost wrote a sitcom called Zumirez Drive," said Eileen Penn, who
has lived on the street for about 30 years and raised her actor sons,
Sean and Christopher, there. "More people with more money are coming
in now. That doesn't necessarily make it better."
MALIBU, CA -- In a quiet cul-de-sac overlooking the Pacific Ocean
where personal paradises sell for millions, homeowners are digesting
an unsettling lesson: Fat wallets make for strange bedfellows. And
moneyed neighborhoods don't get much stranger than those on Malibu's
tree-lined Zumirez Drive.
On the upside, sunsets and city lights sparkle across the water on
summer evenings. Homeowners can ride golf carts down to their private
beach. Barbra Streisand, X-Files creator Chris Carter and film score
composer Hans Zimmer reside here, just a few gated driveways apart.
But they aren't the only ones with a hunger for oceanfront
property.
Since 1991, U.S. officials have tried -- with mixed results -- to
seize four Zumirez homes from residents accused of narcotics
trafficking, marijuana cultivation and credit card fraud.
Under forfeiture laws, prosecutors can confiscate cars, real estate
and other property if they can show the assets are linked to a
criminal enterprise. But so many property cases in such close
proximity appear to have set a precedent in law enforcement. And it
leaves Zumirez at the bizarre junction of stardom, sleaze and wealth.
"If you're writing about what a weird street this is, you're on the
right track," said Jana Meek, a 73-year-old retiree who has lived
there for a quarter of a century. "This is a cultural comedy."
Justice Department officials assure that the cluster of seizure cases
on Zumirez is just serendipity. In fact, it may have arisen from a
chance collision of two trends in law enforcement: a scramble by
criminals to launder their money with smart investments, and pressure
on prosecutors to limit their zeal for real estate seizures to
property that can be sold at a profit.
"These are the houses they're going after -- they're not interested in
the '60 Nova, they're interested in the new Mercedes," said Richard
Troberman, a Seattle attorney and co-chair of the National Association
of Criminal Defense Lawyers' task force on forfeitures. "They're going
to go after the ones that [will] bring them the most money."
Expanded Powers
The government has long used its forfeiture power to seize all manner
of ill-gotten property -- from smuggled cargo in the 1780s to bootleg
distilleries during Prohibition.
After Congress expanded the power in 1984 to aid the war on drugs,
seizures skyrocketed. Proceeds from the sale of forfeited assets
routinely flow back to the agency that seized them, making the program
popular with law enforcement. Proceeds to the Justice and Treasury
departments exceeded $490 million last year alone.
Prosecutors also established a little-known set of guidelines to
ensure they don't pursue properties that will ultimately lose money.
With a few exceptions, prosecutors in Los Angeles won't pursue real
estate unless the owner's equity is at least $40,000, or 20 percent of
the property's value.
By that measure, the elegant homes on Zumirez Drive made for
near-perfect targets. Malibu's blazing real estate market has added
equity to virtually every home, and rising demand means the United
States could likely sell any house it seized there immediately -- at a
maximum profit.
At the same time, Justice Department officials say, criminals
increasingly tried to conceal their profits by pouring the money into
legitimate purchases, such as real estate in a hot market.
"If you're a criminal and you want to launder the proceeds, you . . .
invest in a nice property that's going to appreciate," said a senior
Justice Department official who spoke on condition of anonymity. "It's
not a coincidence all these are in Southern California. It's a
coincidence they're all on the same block."
Not Good Neighbors
When criminals begin to profit from their work, "they see themselves
as part of that elite class where they can party with the stars and
the politicos," said Dennis McKenzie, an analyst at the Treasury
Department's asset forfeiture section. "There are certain ZIP Codes
that give them status, and these guys tend to migrate to that."
But until whispers about indictments and warrants spilled into the
street, the law-abiding residents of Zumirez were none the wiser. In
retrospect, however, they say, this much was clear: Folks living in
the targeted houses made for lousy neighbors.
One man's kid became a paparazzo who still pursues the street's more
famous residents. Another allegedly cut down his neighbor's trees
without asking. And a third violated basic Malibu etiquette by letting
his lawn sprout weeds.
Father, Then Son
Gene Wall moved to the street in 1971, when the Malibu area called
Point Dume was known less for its star-studded hideaways than its
wild, open space. The land "was just stark. Just brown, no trees, no
nothing," he said.
He changed all that. On the 1 1/2 acres he had purchased for $59,000,
he planted sycamore trees, corn and marijuana -- which resulted in a
conviction, and probation, on cultivation charges in the early 1980s.
But the real trouble started a decade later. After a second raid -- in
which deputies shot his older son's pit bull and seized 152 grams of
cocaine and other drugs -- U.S. officials moved to seize his property.
Prosecutors filed the claim on the basis that Wall hadn't prevented
the son from selling drugs.
A U.S. District judge found that forfeiture would be too harsh a
penalty. Wall not only stayed, he also sued the county over the
deputies' conduct and settled for $650,000. Now a silver-haired
devotee of yoga, he still resides on the property with several
tenants, six Rottweilers and a peacock. A man-size replica of the
Statue of Liberty stands atop the carport.
And Wall's younger son now finds his father's Zumirez address helpful
- -- he's a paparazzo who takes pictures of the neighbors, including
Streisand.
Wall's explanation for the number of seizure cases on his street: "I
just think a bunch of bad eggs ended up here at the same time."
Credit Card Scam
The Satmax Family Limited Partnership plunked down $2.4 million last
fall for a cushy pad a few doors over from Streisand. Authorities now
say the buyer behind Satmax is Kenneth H. Taves, who stands accused of
one of the largest credit card scams in history. Regulators say Taves'
companies billed up to 900,000 credit card holders for Internet
services they didn't order, yielding him $45.5 million.
A court-appointed receiver alleges that Taves tried to conceal the
property by transferring the deed to a Canadian shell corporation
shortly after regulators swooped down on him. Taves remains in custody
in Los Angeles on related criminal charges.
Jana Meek, the retiree who lives next door, said Taves first appeared
in her driveway wearing a red leather motorcycle suit and offered to
pay $10,000 if she'd let his children play on her tennis court. (She
declined.) Later, she said, he sent a work crew to "butcher" at least
half a dozen eucalyptus trees in her backyard in order to improve the
view from his back window.
Some Zumirez residents figure their street's quirks are ready-made for
television. And they should know.
"I almost wrote a sitcom called Zumirez Drive," said Eileen Penn, who
has lived on the street for about 30 years and raised her actor sons,
Sean and Christopher, there. "More people with more money are coming
in now. That doesn't necessarily make it better."
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