9. The best way to break a jury deadlock is:

a) By a careful and thoughtful review of the evidence.

b) By listening to the tapes over and over.

c) By doing one-potato, two-potato.

10. If a jury wishes to communicate with the judge, the proper method is:

a) Writing a brief and simple note.

b) Raising your hand and asking permission to speak.

c) Slapping yourself in the face and shouting "whoop-whoop-whoop!" like Curly of the Three Stooges.

11. When writing a note to the judge, it is advisable to:

a) Print neatly.

b) Try to use at least one verb in each sentence.

c) Try not to refer to the defendants as "slithering vermin."

12. As the trial progresses, most jurors are:

a) Absorbed with the seriousness of their responsibilities.

b) Impressed that lawyers for both sides can be so persuasive.

c) Surprised that they don't really get to meet Judge Wapner in person.

13. When selecting a foreman, the jury should always pick the member who:

a) Is the most reasonable and articulate.

b) Has the keenest grasp of both arguments in the case.

c) Can spit the farthest.

Mob desire backfires on longtime cop

August 30, 1989

Today's Episode: Ralph Joins The Mob.

Not Ralph Kramden, but Ralph Finno. He's the former Fort Lauder-dale police captain who last year ran for Broward sheriff, and lost. This year, authorities say, Ralph chose a different line of work.

The scene: a typically tacky office on Commercial Boulevard. Hidden TV cameras are rolling (Ralph doesn't know it).Two other guys in the room aren't real mobsters, they're police informants (Ralph doesn't know this, either).

Bogus Mob Guy # 1: "To swear an oath to us, that your allegiance is with our family, I ask you to bite this bullet. With this bullet, you are now a part of us."

Bogus Mob Guy #2: "That's the bullet that's got your name on it."

Bogus Mob Guy # 1: "Right, that's your bullet. Capisce?"

Ralph Finno: "Capisce." (Uneasily.) "Want me to bite the bullet?"

Bogus Mob Guy # 1: "Just bite it. That's good."

Ralph bites. Gingerly he hands the bullet back to the phony mob guy, who then kisses Ralph on both cheeks.

Unfortunately for Ralph, the bullet later reappeared in an evidence bag after Ralph was arrested for loan sharking, racketeering and running a house of prostitution. Today Ralph says he did nothing wrong.

Over months he'd been videotaped discussing alleged crimes with the phony mob guys. His "initiation" into the Family was to be the climax of these friendships. As silly as it looked, Ralph's ceremony went smoother than his brother Tony's.

In a blood oath, Tony and the phony mobster tried to nick each other with a dagger. The dagger was too dull. "Why don't you get me something, for Chrissake's, that can cut!" complained the phony mobster.

Tony took out his own knife. This time the two men sliced themselves so deeply that they wouldn't stop bleeding. The hidden camera recorded them sitting on the sofa, trying to discuss alleged Mafia business while sucking their own fingers.

When Ralph is on camera, the favorite topic is his old rival, Nick Navarro. The phony mob guys say they can arrange for Ralph to be named acting sheriff, if only something happens to Navarro. Ralph loves the idea of being sheriff ("When the time is right, I've got to get my suit pressed!") but appears nervous at the suggestion of foul play: "If anything happens to this guy [Navarro] … this town'll be turned upside down by all these young investigative reporters."

At one point Ralph asks if the mob is influential enough to get the governor to remove Nick from office. The phony mob guy makes a noise like a gun, and says that's the only way to get rid of Navarro. Ralph looks queasy. "It's a very touchy, touchy, touchy situation," he says.

The phony mobster, doing a swell Luca Brazi: "You want him gone with the fishes? Fine."

Ralph doesn't look thrilled with the idea of knocking off Navarro, but notes, "He did have threats by Colombians."

The phony mobster asks if Ralph has any ethical qualms about jumping to the other side of the law. No, Ralph says, "I always respected a guy who had talent, could make money and not get caught."

There will be criminal activity, the bad guy warns. "It's a business," Ralph replies. "It's like anything else … Even when I was on the job, I had no problem with prostitution, I really don't. Open up 20,000 places, go ahead … You want to run some traffic in gambling? Fine. You want to have some loan sharking? Fine. These things never bothered me."

The phony mobster says there might be times when knees must be broken. Says Ralph: "It's very easy to go out and smack somebody around. At the same time … can we use this person? Why burn bridges?"

In a prelude to the bullet-biting ritual, Ralph expresses one reservation about his pending career change. He wonders if joining the Mafia might tarnish his 27-year record in law enforcement: "I have extensive, extensive—and I'm not trying to blow my own horn—extensive credentials … I don't want this decision to hurt that."

Today Ralph is in jail, no bond. His credentials are in serious jeopardy.

Spotlight on Nick Navarro becoming hot

July 1, 1991

It was many months ago that 60 Minutes arrived to do a segment on Broward Sheriff Nick Navarro.

The sheriff reacted as he always does at the prospect of seeing himself on TV—with joyous gusto. Navarro is a publicity junkie, and the idea of appearing on America's most popular (and serious) news show must've sent him into ecstasy.

Sure, he's bosom buddies with Geraldo Rivera, but nobody takes Geraldo seriously. 60 Minutes is the big leagues. A prime-time puff piece would guarantee Navarro's re-election.

But now the picture's gone bad. The Broward Sheriffs Office is the target of a federal investigation into corruption and influence-peddling. The press, which has given Slick Nick such a sweet ride for so long, now snarls at his throat.

Even worse for Navarro, the 60 Minutes producers are reshaping, if not reconsidering, their profile of the dapper sheriff. By the time it's over, the 2 Live Crew fiasco will look like comic relief. Ironically, Navarro's own pathological itch for self-promotion is what caused some of his problems. Back in 1986, the sheriff was too eager to help Geraldo Rivera find a target for a prime-time drug bust. BSO chose a coke dealer named Nelson Scott.

After complaining for years about Scott's activities, neighbors were glad to see him finally arrested. Why it took so long was something of a mystery, until Scott started talking. He testified that he'd been paying off deputies with cash, dope and hookers. A BSO investigation discounted Scott's charges, but the feds are listening to him now.

The scandal has other dimensions. Agents are exploring the lifestyles of some of the sheriffs top guys. One, Ron Cacciatore, managed to build a $69,000 home on a captain's salary. Cacciatore has said his family inherited some money and invested wisely. He was seen socializing with a fugitive smuggler in the Bahamas, but has insisted he didn't know the man's true identity.

Another focal point is Navarro's friendship with auto dealer Jim Moran, the sheriffs most generous campaign contributor. Recently Moran sold BSO a fleet of used cars at new-car prices. Once Navarro hired one of Moran's security men as a BSO commander, even though the man, James Burkett, had failed a polygraph when asked about drug crimes.

Burkett recently was convicted of lying to U.S. agents about a marijuana operation. He was sentenced to 21 months.