Handcuffed, with two brothers of the woman he murdered looking on, Joseph Ramirez learned Friday afternoon that he will die in prison.
Circuit Judge Reemberto Diaz sentenced him to three consecutive life terms. Then he listened as the prosecuting attorney asked him to clarify that his intent had been to sentence Ramirez to serve as much time as legally possible: ''It is my will,'' the judge said.
Earlier this week, Ramirez, 48, was found guilty for the fourth time of the Christmas Eve 1983 robbery and killing of Mary Jane Minick Quinn, a 27-year-old FedEx delivery woman from Key Biscayne. Four hundred and thirty dollars was missing from her mailbag when her body was found, stabbed and bludgeoned, on Christmas morning.
The Florida Supreme Court had overturned the three previous convictions, questioning the testimony of a medical examiner who said a knife found in Ramirez's car was the one used to kill Quinn.
This time around, a Miami-Dade jury -- unaware of the knife controversy -- convicted Ramirez after comparing the tread of his Converse sneakers to photographs of shoe prints at the scene.
Before Friday's hearing, a bearded Ramirez -- head shaved, wearing a maroon jumpsuit -- was led from a side door into the courtroom's jury box. He sat, folded his hands and stayed that way for the rest of the hearing.
He is a massive man. A posse of equally burly court officers watched him; in the last trial, with the jury watching, Ramirez lunged at Assistant State Attorney Flora Seff.
Seff called Miami-Dade Police Sgt. William Saladrigas to testify. He'd interviewed Ramirez in 1983, three days after the killing, and hadn't forgotten the experience: 'He told me, `I'm going to kill you, your wife and your mother, and before I kill your wife and mom I'm going to f--- your wife.' At that point, I told him I was not going to interview any longer.''
Ramirez's eyes widened.
Next, Seff called Tom Quinn, the murdered woman's brother. ''She was a human being, she was my sister, and she didn't deserve to be murdered,'' he said.
He talked about their 83-year-old mother, unable to attend because of poor health. ''She threw away everything that reminded her of her daughter. When I told her about the conviction, she slumped forward on her chair and wept,'' he told the judge. Ramirez moved only to scratch his beard, then refolded his hands.
Then Seff, who'd worked on the first trial, asked for ``a true life sentence or as much time as legally possible.''
The judge turned to Ramirez to ask if had anything to say. ''No, he doesn't,'' answered defense attorney Ed O'Donnell Jr., quickly. ''Yes, I do,'' Ramirez said, but stayed silent after a whispered conference with O'Donnell.
Sentence was pronounced, and finally Ramirez spoke: ''Your honor, I'll see you for Ramirez Five,'' he said, alluding to a new trial he hopes to win on appeal.
''Hopefully, I'll be here,'' Diaz answered.
Outside the courtroom, Ramirez's wife Brezetta paused before she got into the elevator. She said they'd met while Ramirez was on Death Row and see each other about three times a month.
''The person portrayed in that courtroom is not the person I've known for 24 years,'' she said. ``Joseph has changed so drastically for the better.''
Said Saladrigas, the lead investigator: ``I don't blame her for her feelings, but she is simply wrong. That man is a monster.''
