John Montgomery Presents This Week's  Creep Logo by Lynn Kauczka

July 14, 2001 Ira Einhorn

Here's something for you to ponder as you're reading this web site at work while trying not to let your boss hear you snicker, chortle, guffaw and spew out your morning coffee through your nostrils: If you were to be murdered, would you rather have the killer be rich or poor?

The economic status of your killer does make a difference regarding what will happen after you're dead and buried, and someone else is reading this web site at work on your old computer. If it was a poor guy who killed you, he probably wanted your money, your possessions, or your body. After all, he couldn't surf the web at work like you could. With his limited financial and intellectual resources, it'll only be a matter of time until he gets caught. He gets beat up by the cops, thrown in jail, assaulted by his fellow inmates, and assigned an incompetent and apathetic public defender. After a quick trial and even quicker deliberations by the jury, he's convicted and sentenced to life without parole. Unless he's a black, mentally retarded Texan, in which case he gets sentenced to death, denied a reprieve by a dimwitted governor after a 15-minute review, and then fried at sunrise. Case closed. You're still dead, but justice has been served.

If, on the other hand, the guy who killed you is a man of some wealth and taste, the story will turn out very differently. He knew you personally and you obviously pissed him off big time. The first thing he'll do is hire an expensive Johnnie Cochran / Jackie Childs type lawyer who will immediately blame the cops (like OJ Simpson and John & Pasty Ramsey). If that doesn't work, he will (like Robert Blake) blame the victim, who in this case happens to be you. But if he's really smart, he'll get the hell out of the United States and flee to France, which is fast becoming a haven for American scum buckets (like James Kopp). Once there, he can spend years dodging US authorities, hiding behind the barriers of the French extradition laws. You're rotting in your grave while your killer is relaxing at a Parisian sidewalk cafe, enjoying his croissant and latte.

Meet this week's American scum bucket in France, Ira Einhorn. Way back in 1977, Ira bludgeoned his girlfriend, Holly Maddux, to death, then stuffed her in a trunk and hid it in a closet at their Philadelphia apartment. When the cops found the body, what was Ira's excuse? It was a government conspiracy to imprison him because he was an anti-war activist. Back in those days, it was the ultra left wing nuts who were paranoid about the government.

Ira flew the coop in 1981, right before he was to go on trial. They convicted him in abstentia (sort of like flunking a test in school because you didn't show up) and sentenced him to life in prison. Of course, life in France sounded much more appealing to Ira. It wasn't until 1997 that American authorities tracked him down to the Champagne-Mouton region of the country.

That was the easy part. Getting him out of there is considerably more difficult. France doesn't believe that trials in absentia are legal, so it refused to extradite Ira. It also refuses to extradite people to countries where they can face the death penalty.

What the hell is the deal with these French people anyway? Too much brie? Too much Jerry Lewis? And didn't the Coneheads come from France? All that beer and fiberglass must soften your mind after a while. That's where Timothy McVeigh should have headed after the bombing. If he'd only remembered to put license plates on his getaway car, he could be frolicking with strippers on the Moulin Rouge right this minute.

Anyway, at long last, this week the French Council of State ruled that Ira, now 61, could be extradited to the United States. It was his last chance under French law. Ira's somewhat predictable reaction was to attempt suicide by slashing his throat. However, he seems to have lost some of his killer instinct over the years (or perhaps he used a brie knife) because after one overnight in the hospital, he came back home with a bandage wrapped around his neck, saying he was "very, very tired."

Also very, very screwed. He's under house arrest pending the outcome of an appeal to something called the "European Court of Human Rights." Undoubtedly another refuge unavailable to the poverty stricken killer. But eventually, Ira's long overdue day in court is coming. Unless he gets fiberglass stuck in that hole in his throat.