Tb_hdr_a.gif (5142 bytes)
  
Queens_Tribune_Feature_Story.gif (1799 bytes)
You Can Call Him AL tb_feat01.gif (15447 bytes)
How A Queens Impostor Confused The System
By LIZ GOFF

This is one for the books. A case that will likely rattle the law enforcement community, sending it into a tailspin, shaking its head and asking "where did we go wrong?"

Meet Alberio Meneses, um . . . that’s Mariano Gonzalez. No, it’s Bernardo Ospina . . . or is it – oh, heck! They’re all one man – Michael Perez, Telmo Jara, Marin Gonzalo, Arcidio Rossi, John Brand, John Brown – all one and the same.

In the interest of clarity, we will call him Meneses – not that he would care if we wrongly identified him.

The 50-year-old career burglar has racked up 30 arrests, 26 aliases (we’ve only mentioned a few), 21 dates of birth, 15 Social Security numbers, 11 NYSID (NYPD Arrest) numbers and nine outstanding warrants – including one warrant for his 1994 escape from an inmate Work Program while he was serving time at the Ulster Correctional Facility in upstate New York.

Meneses’ arrest record dates back to at least 1978 when he was arrested in Manhattan’s 26th Precinct. Following a short stint in the city’s jail system, Meneses headed south, where his skills as a burglar prompted law enforcement officials there to begin deportation proceedings against him.

 

Kicked–Out

Yes. Meneses was deported to Colombia in 1980. No one is certain when, or how he arrived back on U.S. soil, but he was back, burglarizing greater Miami in March of 1982.

After masterminding a series of other burglaries in the Sunshine State, Meneses headed north to again test-out his luck in the Big Apple. It was at this point, law enforcement officials said, that Meneses honed his skills as a master of disguise – and escape.

He spent years fine-tuning a method of escaping jail time for criminal activity, officials said. He collected names and Social Security numbers by the dozen – pawning them off on law enforcement agents who were unable to match his history to the aliases.

He bit-off the "pads" on his fingers, preventing a match to another name by police who arrested him for his assorted crimes.

From 1979 to 1990, police in at least two states arrested Meneses over and over, for breaking-in to residences and for assorted drug offenses. In all that time, neither the court system or the police recognized Meneses under the guise of his aliases.

Meneses was arrested by police in Elmhurst in February 1990. Convicted of a felony drug charge, he was sentenced in June 1992 to seven years at the Ulster County Correctional Facility.

Twenty months later, Meneses walked away from a Work Program for inmates at the prison, and he headed straight for Queens.

Seven months after his escape, Meneses was back behind bars in Queens, when he was caught and identified in a residential burglary. That was October 1994. He has since been arrested and charged in at least seven burglaries. Each time, he gave cops an alias. Each time, he duped court officials and judges who presided at his cases. And each time he walked away from the charges under an assumed name, using a phony Social Security number and a fabricated date of birth.

This is the kind of stuff crime novelists love to get their hands on. The perfect crime – without punishment.

 

Gung–Ho Gumshoe

But as luck would have it, Meneses’ luck began to run out in May 1997 when he was arrested by a detective in Elmhurst who had a hunch that he was no stranger to the criminal justice system.

Calling himself Bernardo Ospina, Meneses told Det. Michael Carrano that the burglary he was arrested for was his first crime. Carrano ran Ospina for prior arrests, but the system came up blank. He was released by the court system, but he stuck in Carrano’s gut – the detective refused to give up on his search for Meneses’ true identify and criminal background.

For the next eight months, Carrano and his partner Det. Phillip Cammarata ran regular background checks on the man who gave his name as Bernardo Ospina. The inquiries all came back the same – no record. Carrano felt sure that Meneses was out on the street making his living by breaking and entering. It was a hunch the detective couldn’t shake. A hunch that paid off on April 7 – the day Meneses’ luck ran out.

Meneses was arrested by police at the 108th Precinct in Long Island City not once – but twice – during January 1998. Both times he eluded jail time by giving cops an alias – foiling their attempts to link him to prior criminal activity.

He was locked up by the Long Island City cops in March 1998 and again, he outwitted the system.

Detectives at the 108th Squad transmitted a "Have Arrested" message to cops citywide, hoping someone, somewhere, might recognize the suspect.

Carrano and Cammarata reviewed the messages regularly and playing their hunch they obtained photos of the suspect who was arrested in the 108th Precinct.

The detectives hit the jackpot when they received the photos and found that the name may have changed, but the face was unmistakably the same as their man – Meneses.

Unfortunately, the man in the photos who called himself Marin Gonzalo was sent through the system, arraigned and released – before Carrano and Cammarata were able to confer with police and Corrections Department supervisors. He had to be processed and sentenced or released within 48 hours after his arrest – the system requires it.

And the system always worked for Meneses.

 

Error Of His Demise

But he made a mistake on April 7 – a big mistake – that cost him his freedom. That’s when he was arrested by two cops on regular patrol out of the 110th Precinct.

tb_feat02.JPG (9143 bytes)
Alberio Meneses in calling the Queens House of Detention home these days, having finally lost his cover.

Tribune Photos By Liz Goff

Police Officers Michael Sheeran and Thomas Dugan spotted something "out of place" at a residence on 97th Street in Elmhurst at about 3 p.m. on April 7. The cops entered the residence, where they found a stunned Meneses, surrounded by loot he intended to lift in this, his latest heist.

Meneses was arrested and taken to the 110th Precinct for processing, which includes routine debriefing by precinct detectives. His fate was sealed when he was walked into the 110th Squad, where he found himself face-to-face with his nemesis, Mike Carrano.

Playing the odds, Meneses did his best to try to convince Carrano and Cammarata that this was his first offense. But Carrano wouldn’t have it – he recognized the "perp" as the same man he had arrested in May 1997 under the name Bernardo Ospina.

The intricate puzzle Meneses had developed to dupe the system began to crumble around him.

Carrano and Cammarata linked Meneses to 11 NYSID (Police Arrest) numbers and combined them all into one number – the first one Meneses was issued following his 1978 arrest in Manhattan.

Digging deeper, the detectives revealed Meneses’ history as an absconder from the Ulster County Correctional Facility.

They discovered that he was wanted by the FBI, and that he had nine outstanding warrants, including one for escape.

The detectives also linked Meneses to at least seven burglaries between October 1994 and May 1998, crimes he was arrested for and convicted of. But he never spent a second in jail for the crimes, having convinced police and prosecutors that each was his first offense.

Meneses victimized the system for almost 20 years. Now, suddenly, it was time to pay his dues.

According to a spokesperson for Queens District Attorney Richard Brown, Meneses – or whoever he is – has been holed-up at the Queens House of Detention since April 8.

He is being held on $50,000 bail (new) and an additional $15,000 – a tidy sum determined by the judge at his arraignment, meant to "cover" all of his outstanding warrants, said DA spokesperson Mary De Bourbon.

He remains at the Men’s House on Queens Boulevard in lieu of $65,000 bail, De Bourbon said.

The sytem has finally caught up with Alberio Meneses – or whoever he is.

De Bourbon praised Carrano and Cammarata for achieving justice when the cause was muddled by deceit, fraud and flim-flam.

The detectives deserve a great deal of credit, De Bourbon said, for their determination and "stick-to-itiveness."

Meneses can no longer dupe the system. Thanks to the two detectives the system now knows who he is and what he has done.

But how did it happen? Could police or prosecutors have identified Meneses long ago, acting with the same determination as Mike Carrano and Phil Cammarata?

Or was he simply too quick, too crafty for law enforcement to catch up with him?

How many others are out there, pillaging our property and never being punished?

Stay tuned.

E-mail the Trib