San Francisco Chronicle (CA)



San Francisco Chronicle (CA)

April 23, 2007 | | |

SAN FRANCISCO

Investigators never gave up on 2000 death

Tari Ramirez, wanted in the stabbing of a former girlfriend, was found in Mexico and will appear in S.F. court today

Author: Elizabeth Fernandez; Chronicle Staff Writer

The phone call jolted awake FBI Special Agent Brian Gilhooly.

It was 6 a.m.

A call at that hour, to him, meant just one thing: His quarry had at last been found.

"You love getting a call like that,'' said Gilhooly. "That's why you do the job.''

For nearly six years, the chief suspect in one of San Francisco's most notorious slayings had eluded capture. Tari Ramirez, wanted in the grisly stabbing death of a 28-year-old San Francisco woman, was believed to be hiding in Mexico.

While Ramirez was on the lam, Gilhooly, a newly minted FBI agent, along with two veteran homicide inspectors from the San Francisco Police Department, had been in determined pursuit, chasing leads from as close as Berkeley and as far away as Alabama and Cancun.

The law finally caught up with Ramirez, 34. He was arrested last year and recently extradited to the United States. He is scheduled to be arraigned today in San Francisco in the death of Claire Joyce Tempongko. The data entry clerk was slain in her Richmond District home as her two children watched.

The capture of Tempongko's suspected killer brought a sense of relief and accomplishment to the three law enforcement officers who'd hunted him for years.

"I was extremely proud I could go back and face the family,'' said homicide Inspector Maureen D'Amico, who has been with the San Francisco Police Department for nearly 32 years. "I had told them that I would do everything possible to get him and to bring him back. I was able to keep my word.''

D'Amico and her partner, Inspector Michael Johnson, who together have worked for nearly 70 years for the San Francisco Police Department, responded to the murder scene the night of Tempongko's death on Oct. 22, 2000.

"It was terrible, horrific,'' said D'Amico, in an interview prior to a gag order imposed last week by Superior Court Judge Kathleen Kelly.

The month before she died, Tempongko twice filed police reports against her former boyfriend, Ramirez; in one incident, she said, he'd forced his fingers down her throat and attempted to choke her. Over the course of a year and a half, various protective orders were issued, and Ramirez served about six months in jail but was ultimately released.

Within three hours of Tempongko's death, at 9:12 p.m., D'Amico and Johnson pinpointed Ramirez as the chief suspect. At 12:30 a.m. on Oct. 23, police issued a teletype that Ramirez was wanted for questioning.

"We knew who we were looking for,'' D'Amico said. "Then it was a matter of finding him. ... We missed him by a day.''

Ramirez had apparently caught a ride with a friend to his homeland of Mexico.

Before October had ended, the inspectors were talking to the FBI.

A federal warrant was issued Nov. 1. Ramirez was charged with unlawful flight to avoid prosecution for murder.

Although D'Amico was "99 percent certain'' that their suspect was in Mexico, she and Johnson for many months haunted places in San Francisco where Ramirez, who worked in the restaurant industry, was known to frequent.

"As much as we felt he had left the state, we weren't going to leave any stone unturned," she said. "People were constantly calling from all over the Bay Area thinking they had seen Tari. We responded to every one.''

Complicating the hunt was Ramirez's undistinguished looks -- 5 foot 6, medium build, black hair and brown eyes.

About half a dozen men were brought in for questioning, including two found on a Muni bus by Mission Station officers.

There were alleged sightings at a homeless shelter in Berkeley, at Macy's in downtown San Francisco, in Vermont and Alabama. "They were sure they had him in Waco, Texas,'' said D'Amico.

She and Johnson checked each tip, sending prints and photos out of state.

"My thought was that he was either dead or someday he would be picked up,'' said D'Amico.

In February 2002, the case landed on the desk of Agent Gilhooly, who had just arrived in San Francisco after seven years as a Navy SEAL. Gilhooly, now 34, had long wanted to join the FBI, and has since developed a stellar reputation.

"Brian captures a lot of fugitives,'' said Sean Ragan, the FBI's supervisory special agent in San Francisco.

But Ramirez was a tough assignment -- by then, the case was if not cold, then cool.

Gilhooly essentially started from scratch, interviewing acquaintances of the suspect, including the man who drove with him across the border.

A significant number of fugitives from California seek refuge in Mexico, said Ragan. "That's because they have family there or were born there.'' Others flee to the Caribbean, El Salvador, Canada.

Once Ramirez crossed the border, his pursuers believed, he'd seek refuge with relatives near Cancun.

Periodically, Gilhooly reinterviewed Ramirez's friends in San Francisco, performing what he calls "maintenance.''

"It's not that you aren't putting a lot of effort into a case, but sometimes you need a little luck. You can create some of that luck if you keep after something long enough. ... We don't close a case until we find them.''

Over the years, Tempongko's death became a rallying symbol for advocates of victims of domestic violence. A special review team convened by the San Francisco Commission on the Status of Women documented a substantial series of breaches in San Francisco's criminal justice system.

"For (her) and her family, the chain snapped in a final incidence of horrifying violence,'' concluded the report, which became a blueprint for San Francisco on how to better handle cries for help from domestic violence victims.

Early last spring, the noose began to tighten around Ramirez. Authorities heard that he had applied for a position in a hotel near Cancun -- he wrote his name and address on the application.

For two days, law enforcement watched the area.

On June 15, Gilhooly got his early morning phone call. On the other end was his FBI colleague in Mexico. The agent told Gilhooly that he had "good news and bad news.'' The good: Ramirez had been arrested. The bad: Gilhooly owed him lunch.

"Obviously I would love to buy him lunch every day,'' said a smiling Gilhooly.

Ramirez battled extradition, but this month was returned to the United States to stand trial, arriving first in Los Angeles, then being transported to San Francisco.

On Wednesday, Ramirez made a brief appearance in San Francisco Superior Court. He stood, hands shackled behind his back, head cast down, as his public defender asked that his case be held until today.

"It doesn't bring Claire Joyce back, but her alleged killer can answer for his actions,'' said D'Amico. "He's one floor up from me now. I sleep well at night knowing that he's here now in city prison.''

Memo:

E-mail Elizabeth Fernandez at efernandez@.

(c) San Francisco Chronicle 2007

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