10/9/98 Phila. Inquirer B01 1998 WLNR 2510285
Philadelphia Inquirer (PA) Copyright Philadelphia Newspapers Inc. 1998 October 9, 1998 Section: NEIGHBORS CHESTER & BRANDYWINE PLATINUM SCHEME WAS CALLED EASY MONEY BY ONE CONSPIRATOR WILLIAM DAVID GUTHRIE SAID HE WAS PROMPTED BY GREED. HE AND FIVE OTHERS ARE SCHEDULED TO GO TO PRISON ON MONDAY. Barbara Boyer and Peter Smolowitz, INQUIRER STAFF WRITERS William David Guthrie loved talking to people and loved the taste of whiskey, traits that made him a natural and well-liked bartender for two decades among some of Chester County's professionally and socially elite. And he loved money. So much so that the 46-year-old East Brandywine resident found himself at the heart of an elaborate $2.75 million conspiracy selling stolen platinum that turned large profits for years until, as Guthrie would write: ``The jig was up.'' ``The greed for easy money clouded my judgment and I kept rationalizing,'' Guthrie wrote in a 19-page court statement released this week. ``The truth is that I knew in my bones that I was into something crooked early on.'' Beginning Monday, Guthrie and five others must surrender to the Chester County Prison for their part in what prosecutors say was possibly the largest white-collar scheme in the county's history. Those who also face jail are: Joseph Patrick Clark, 41, of Downingtown; Gary Edward Burns, 40, of West Bradford; Victor Gabriel, 55, of Downingtown; Ricky C. Lee, 45, formerly of Boothwyn; and Webster A. Hilton, 41, of Downingtown. A seventh defendant - Downingtown Councilman Dennis B. Walton - was sentenced to three years' probation. Documents filed in Chester County Court this week describe the following relationships and scam that ensued: The conspiracy began, as far as prosecutors know, in the late 1980s at Johnson Matthey Inc., an international company that deals with precious metals and produced billions in
revenue. At the company's West Whiteland plant, Mario D'Addezio of Downingtown, now deceased, worked as a melter with Hilton. The two played softball, often had beers after work, and talked about collecting scrap platinum that was not part of the company's inventory. They melted the scraps into metal bars more valuable than gold and got hooked on their profits. Hilton, who coached baseball and soccer in Downingtown, used the money to feed a cocaine habit and bet on horses, said Michael McShane, a close friend and lawyer who vouched for Hilton in court. Three other Johnson Matthey employees - Burns, Clark and Lee - helped smuggle platinum. Walton, who was friends with D'Addezio, was paid to hold the metal. D'Addezio also used his good friend, Gabriel, a Downingtown businessman, to sell the platinum to Philadelphia jeweler Barry Sable. In a court statement, Guthrie wrote that he considered Gabriel his best friend, but did not know about the scam in the early years. Then, in 1993, Gabriel told Guthrie the IRS was investigating Sable, and Gabriel had to testify before a federal grand jury, Guthrie recalled. Court records show Sable stopped buying the platinum in 1993, the same year Guthrie took Gabriel's suggestion to sell gold and remembered thinking, ``Frankly, I thought it would be snappy to be a gold dealer.'' ``Gabriel's a smart guy,'' said Chester County Prosecutor Robert E. Miller, who had asked for lengthy prison terms, including state time for several defendants. ``He (Gabriel) wants nothing more to do with this, but he likes the money. So he goes to his friend Guthrie for help.'' Guthrie became the middleman, selling platinum and splitting his profits with Gabriel. When Guthrie found a buyer, D'Addezio arranged a parking-lot rendezvous and arrived with ``a brown paper bag of platinum wrapped in duct tape,'' according to Guthrie who sold the metal. ``For one trip to Philadelphia, I was paid somewhere around $1,000,'' Guthrie wrote to the judge. ``That, your honor, was much more than I could earn tending bar for a full week or more, and the kicker was that I did not have to listen to any trite tales of woe while I earned it.'' When that buyer insisted on paperwork for sales, however, Guthrie looked for someone more discreet.
About that time, in June 1994, an established antiques dealer, Thomas Baldwin, created a company called Nine Eleven Carrera Corp. One evening in September 1994, as Guthrie mixed drinks at La Cocotte, a West Chester restaurant and bar, Baldwin stopped in. Although Baldwin owns Baldwin's Book Barn, renowned for rare books that fill five floors of shelves in a renovated dairy house on the edge of West Chester, he told Guthrie he also specialized in precious metals. Guthrie told Baldwin that a relative was getting the metal from Russia. ``He told me that he wanted no Russian platinum, because it was likely radioactive; however, he assured me that he could procure the going rate for the metal,'' Guthrie wrote. Guthrie delivered the platinum, and Baldwin paid $300 an ounce, totaling $55,000 for the first deal, records show. After that transaction, ``Baldwin came back to me and said: `This stuff is great. I'll take all you can get,' '' Guthrie wrote. In 1995, D'Addezio died after crashing an Alfa-Romeo in Italy. That left Hilton to orchestrate the thefts. But prosecutors said Guthrie told Baldwin he wasn't getting as much platinum, security was tight, and those participating started getting nervous. On Oct. 23, 1996, Baldwin updated state records, listing himself as Nine Eleven Carrera's chief executive. Two weeks later, he called Johnson Matthey's general manager and turned over more than $20,000 worth of stolen platinum. The company, which notified police, had no idea platinum had been missing. Baldwin gave police his business records for Nine Eleven Carerra that showed he paid at least $775,000 for platinum he sold for more than $900,000 from October 1994 through October 1996. ``I did nothing wrong,'' Baldwin said, holding his terrier, Pip, at his home in Pocopson's rolling countryside bordering the Brandywine Creek. ``I am the hero in all this.'' ``That's not the word I'd use to describe him,'' said West Whiteland detective Scott McAllister, who helped investigate the case that put Baldwin under careful scrutiny by police, prosecutors and the FBI. After an FBI sting in December 1996, Guthrie reluctantly turned on Gabriel, agreeing to
wear a wire. Hilton and Lee later did the same. One year later, a long list of charges were filed that included theft, conspiracy and corruption. Most of the men faced more than 20 years, except Baldwin, who was not charged. John Duffy, one of Chester County's top criminal defense lawyers, who represented Guthrie, questioned during sentencing why Baldwin was not held accountable. ``I think he should have been arrested and jailed,'' Duffy said. Baldwin's lawyer, Albert Oehrle, said Baldwin did nothing wrong and is ``the hero'' he proclaimed to be. Walton, who had the least involvement, was punished first, receiving three years' probation and 100 hours of community service, and ordered to pay a $500 fine. The others pleaded guilty before Chester County Judge Howard Riley, apologizing and asking for mercy. Their terms: * Clark was sentenced to three to 23 months and 75 hours of community service, and ordered to pay $475,000 in restitution. * Burns: three to 23 months and 100 hours of community service; $475,000 in restitution. * Guthrie: four to 23 months and 100 hours of community service; $1 million in restitution. * Gabriel: eight to 23 months and 150 hours of community service; $1.5 million in restitution. * Lee: 9 1/2 to 23 months and 200 hours of community service; $1.5 million in restitution. * Hilton: 11 1/2 to 23 months and 200 hours of community service; $1.5 million in restitution. In court, Guthrie was surrounded by respected friends, including Msgr. Thomas P. Craven of St. Agnes Roman Catholic Church, former District Justice Dawson Muth, and West Chester Police Chief John Green. Even U.S. Magistrate Judge Charles B. Smith offered his support for Guthrie and Gabriel. In a letter addressed to Chester County District Attorney Anthony Sarcione, Smith, who was a Chester County Court judge before he was named to the federal post in Philadelphia, concluded, ``I recommend the absolute minimum jail time.''
The judge said he noticed the influential audience during sentencing, but gave it little weight as he ordered the prison sentences. ``Although some of the defendants did not have the benefit of lawyers or other influential people speaking on their behalf,'' Riley said, ``they all were people of good character.''