Rapoza: 'I'm innocent'

Prosecutors and police argue that the crash was a murder-suicide attempt fueled by jealousy. Rapoza said it was a tragic accident caused by his athletic shoe becoming caught on the gas pedal. He worries that in the wake of the Scott Peterson murder trial - another case involving the death of a pregnant woman allegedly at the hands of her husband - he will never get a fair trial.

With little more than time on his hands, Rapoza wonders many things: Why did his attorneys question his competency to stand trial? Why did he survive the fall 150 feet into the Pacific Ocean? And, mostly, how can anybody believe he would want to kill his family?

"I am innocent," Rapoza said from behind thick glass in an interview with the Daily Journal at the San Mateo County Jail this week. "My family is my life."

The family

Rapoza, 37, and his 34-year-old wife, Raye, were high school sweethearts who would eventually spend 18 years together. The couple moved to Foster City seven years before the fateful crash and returned every year to visit their family.

The Rapozas bought a condominium which they planned to eventually sell so they could buy a home in Hawaii. Raye worked at Hewlett-Packard while Eddie was a welder for Trayer Engineering. Three years after leaving Hawaii, Tehani Rapoza was born.

Tehani was a happy, bright girl who scored a goal the first time she played soccer even though she was the smallest player on the team, recalled Rapoza. His eyes teary at the memory, he said he looked forward to another daughter like his first.

The couple had arguments like any married couple but they never became physical, Rapoza said, adding that his daughter would not be so happy if she was being raised in an abusive household. If his wife was afraid of him, Rapoza said she would have never bought him a sport utility vehicle.

Yet, there were hints of strife. During a preliminary hearing in March 2003, Raye Rapoza's sister, Robin Pang testified that the couple's 18-year relationship was marked with fights, jealousy and temporary separations.

In November 1995, while the couple were still in Maui, the police were called to a domestic dispute at their home. Rapoza said the police took him to a friend's house but never charged him with any crime. A restraining order was filed against him, but the copy Rapoza has in his possession has no date, no signatures nor any description of what the incident was. Rapoza said it was a verbal argument and "never anything physical."

In April 2002, Raye Rapoza moved in with her sister and brother-in-law. Rapoza said Pang convinced his wife it was better for the unborn baby if she did so; Pang has said that Rapoza threatened to set the house on fire.

On April 29, 2002, he was checked into San Mateo Medical Center for two-and-a-half hours on a suicide hold.

The couple's pastor suggested marriage counseling but Rapoza said they never went. He said the family's problems were instigated by her sister and that they would disappear when they returned to their native Hawaii.

The crash

On Oct. 6, 2002, the couple had breakfast and went to watch the surf near Mavericks.

"I used to surf and would have become professional [if I hadn't gotten married]," Rapoza said.

The couple were discussing the impending move but Rapoza said that the disagreement wasn't heated and that there was no argument over the paternity of her unborn baby. Rapoza admits smoking marijuana that day.

When they left to return home, Rapoza said his wife asked to drive the 2002 Dodge Caravan and then changed her mind. He jumped back into the driver's seat and felt his foot become stuck on the gas pedal. Then "the airbag blew and I was knocked out," Rapoza said.

In the re-telling, Rapoza tears up and his voice chokes. He had to stop to catch his breath and apologized for becoming so emotional. He said he doesn't remember the actual crash.

The minivan, according to police reports, sped down Bernal Avenue until he flew off the edge of the cliff. The vehicle dropped about 150 feet and witness Michael Zerbe scrambled down the hill to help. Zerbe told police he heard Rapoza yelling "My wife! My wife!" while he cut Raye and Tehani from their seat belts. Tehani was still moving but Raye's head was underwater.

Rapoza said he remembers being in water, looking at his family, before being placed in a basket to be pulled up the hill. Then, he said, everything is a blank until he woke up in the hospital days later to learn that his wife and unborn daughter were dead. Tehani was brain dead but on life support and authorities believed he was responsible. Rapoza said he asked to see his daughter, not knowing her condition. When he was taken to her bedside and told that she would be removed from life support, Rapoza said he screamed three times and was then transported back to the hospital he was being treated at.

That is when authorities said Rapoza, still recuperating from extensive injuries, confessed to killing his family.

The confession

While still hospitalized, Rapoza consented to questioning and gave authorities what they believe is the crux of the case.

"He said he decided he was going to drive off the cliff ... he said they were all going to die," Sheriff's Deputy Gary Ramos recalled during the March 2003 preliminary hearing.

Ramos said Rapoza repeatedly accused his wife of infidelity and demanded the truth about the paternity of the baby. He said he was going to kill himself but Raye Rapoza refused to leave the car.

Rapoza said he doesn't remember any of those statements although when he listens to the tapes he recognizes his own voice. He wants the cassettes analyzed because he said a portion where he requests an attorney has been moved from the front of the tape to the end, after the alleged confession. He remembers hearing the detectives' voices but "thought I was dreaming" because of the strong painkillers he was being given.

A photo of Rapoza after the accident shows him a neck brace. He also had multiple fractures, severe head and neck trauma and a splint on his arm.

A doctor's report dated Oct. 8, 2002, states that, according to the psychiatric consultation team, Rapoza was "not alert" and "not capable to participate in the medical decision-making process either for himself or for his daughter." At the time, Rapoza was simultaneously on Haldol, an anti-psychotic, Fentanyl, a potent opium-based narcotic, Antivan, Dilantin and Benadryl.

The detectives had already searched Rapoza's home for suicide notes or any other indication that the accident was planned. When they came to interview Rapoza, they already believed they were investigating a homicide, according to a motion filed by defense attorneys.

"Both the medical records and the testimony at the time demonstrate that these statements were neither drug-induced nor influenced by medication," said prosecutor Al Giannini.

Giannini said there is also corroborating evidence that the Rapoza marriage was troubled, helping to build a possible motive.

In other interviews with the detectives, Rapoza maintained claims that his foot became stuck between the gas and brake pedals. He said the used Caravan was sold to the family with adjustable pedals; investigators say there no such devices on the car.

"This was an accident. I could have died myself," he said.

The legal battle

Without any witnesses to what happened or was said inside the Caravan, the case may come down to the confession and the car. Rapoza, though, said he is not confident that his court-appointed attorneys are doing enough to suppress the tape or re-construct the car.

While it is not uncommon for a defendant to bicker with his or her attorney, Rapoza said he wants to find a private lawyer who may take his case pro bono or on a contingency basis. He does not trust that an attorney not directly paid by him will do his best.

"It doesn't matter if they win or lose," Rapoza said.

Rapoza questions everything about the moves made by his court-appointed attorneys Jeff Boyarsky and Connie O'Brien. He said they don't return his phone calls or visit enough.

In a letter dated July 6, 2003, Rapoza tells Boyarsky he believes there is a conflict of interest and that "the crucial element of trust has absented itself from our relationship."

Boyarsky did not return a call for comment.

Rapoza said he would have hired his own attorney after the crash but that he was told his assets were frozen. Without access to his funds, Rapoza accepted the private defender program. His condominium was sold in May 2003 to pay off accumulating debt that he claims would not have incurred if he had access to his finances. All mortgage payments and notices were sent to his sister-in-law instead, he said.

Without money and without a feeling of trust, Rapoza is left trying to work with attorneys he does not want. He has taken to reviewing inches of documents, looking for things they've missed and jotting down questions about witnesses. He pours through law books in the library, trying to find ways to free himself. He has offered to take a lie detector test.

Despite his active role in his case, Rapoza's attorneys told the court in February they didn't know if he could aid in his own defense.

Competency

This morning, Rapoza is confident two court-appointed psychiatrists will declare him competent to stand trial. He said they told him as much after their interview.

While sanity refers to a person's mental state at the time of a crime, the legal definition of competency is the ability to help in one's defense. If Rapoza were to be declared incompetent, he would be sent to a state hospital for treatment until doctors there felt he was able to stand trial.

That possibility is unfathomable to Rapoza who said the months he's already spent in jail are "torturing me." If authorities won't believe he is innocent, he at least wants the opportunity to face trial.

But as eager as he is to tell his version of events, Rapoza doesn't want to testify on his own behalf.

"If I had a good lawyer I wouldn't need to," he said.

He has already dismissed any possibility of a plea bargain, and has told his attorneys, he said, "don't ever come to me with any damn deal because I'm innocent."

Without a plea offer, Rapoza is facing life in prison without parole or the death penalty if convicted of three first-degree murders. District Attorney Jim Fox has not reached a decision on what path the prosecution will take.

The decision comes down to two questions, Giannini said: is the penalty appropriate and does the district attorney believe a jury will hand down a death penalty?

"We prosecute many multiple murder cases and every case is different," Giannini said.

Comparisons to Scott Peterson

The ongoing Scott Peterson murder trial may also color the outcome of his case, Rapoza fears. Although his family died prior to the disappearance of Peterson's pregnant wife, Laci, Rapoza's case has long been overshadowed by it.

Peterson's case moved to San Mateo County from Modesto to avoid a biased jury pool but his attorneys are still having difficulty finding people who don't automatically believe him guilty. By the time his case goes to trial, Rapoza believes local residents will assume the same guilt about him. He wants a change of venue anywhere outside San Mateo County.

"I don't care if they know about my case or not," Rapoza said.

He just wants a locale where he won't be made an example of for a domestic violence-related death. Ideally, he'd also like the resources afforded to Peterson.

"I want a jury consultant, too," he said.

Jail

When not trying to build his own defense, Rapoza spends a lot of time "just praying." He's earned his GED, attends poetry class and tutors other inmates in reading - all examples, he said, of just how competent he is.

He speaks to his mom and sister back in Hawaii and hopes that more friends and former co-workers visit. With only the prosecutors actively speaking to the media and promoting his confession, Rapoza said he thinks people believe he is guilty.

When asked what he wants people to know about him, Rapoza chooses his words carefully.

"You can't always believe what you read. My family came first. My family is my life. I can't stress that enough," he said.

The future

Rapoza said he can't think about a future if he is freed; he is too busy trying to secure it. He knows he will return to Hawaii to pay respects to his family and wants to mend fences with his wife's family, particularly her father.

Even then, though, Rapoza will still not have an answer to why he lived after the crash when his wife and children did not.

"I'm not supposed to be here. I wasn't supposed to survive," he said.

Michelle Durand can be reached by e-mail: michelle@smdailyjournal.com or by phone: (650) 344-5200 ext. 104. What do you think of this story? Send a letter to the editor: letters@smdailyjournal.com.