Smack Tester’s Role Tests Sentencing Rules

In between sentencing five brothers who sold heroin, a federal judge had to figure out what to do with ​“Carlito,” the user who sampled the wares to assess the potency of each shipment.

The government called Carlos Santiago a ​“manager” in a well-oiled drug-trafficking organization that could offload half a kilogram of dope in Fair Haven every week.

The defense said he was more like a ​“human pincushion,” an addict who shot all his illegal earnings through a syringe, risking an overdose from every new batch.

In a largely empty Church Street courtroom on Tuesday morning, Santiago, a 51-year-old whose beard is already going grey, stood in a brown, prison-issue jumpsuit to learn his sentence. Only his wife and one other family member looked on.

With a thick accent, Santiago admitted his ties to a heroin distribution ring in Fair Haven run by the Gonzalez brothers. He said he regretted his actions now that he’d kicked his heroin addiction with a year of sobriety.

After hearing arguments, U.S. District Court Judge Jeffrey Meyer, an Obama appointee, diverged from the advisory sentencing guidelines for Santiago’s guilty plea to distributing more than 100 grams of heroin. Judge Meyer argued that Santiago’s role as a tester didn’t match up with the usual drug-slingers who showed up before him.

Rather than handing down the decade-long maximum allowed by the guidelines, Meyer gave Santiago six years. But he put Santiago under strict probation for four years after his release. He also waived a fine, which could have topped $5 million.

“I have to basically think about everything I know about you — both the good and the not-so-good — and decide on a sentence that is fair,” Meyer said. ​“I’m concerned that you have devoted most of your life to being involved in heroin-distribution activity. …

“When you were in other courthouses, maybe not with ceilings as high as this one, you had decision points you could have made. Your decision, regrettably, after multiple times, was to stay involved.”

Since at least mid-2015, two brothers, Bienvenido and Antonio Gonzalez, ran a drug-trafficking organization out of Fair Haven. They both pleaded guilty in federal court to buying multi-kilogram quantities of cocaine and heroin in the Bronx and distributing them throughout the Elm City.

The federal Drug Enforcement Agency’s (DEA) local squad — with a cooperating witness, undercover drug buys and wiretaps — worked with local cops to put together enough evidence to indict two dozen people in the Gonzalez conspiracy, including Santiago who’d advised how to cut and market the heroin.

From Sprinter To Tester

Born in a middle-class neighborhood in Puerto Rico, Santiago broke school records in track sprints, drawing the attention of university scouts. But after a car accident nearly took off his father’s arm, putting the breadwinner out of work, Santiago’s family moved to a roach-infested apartment in New Haven.

“The honor student became a dropout,” Jeremiah Donovan, the defense attorney, wrote in a pre-sentencing memo.

In the late 1980s, while dating an older woman, Santiago tried heroin and quickly developed a ​“ferocious craving” for the drug, Donovan wrote. ​“He could not resist.”

Santiago picked up a long rap sheet, with convictions for six drug-related offenses, including selling narcotics with the Gonzalez brothers as far back as 1996. He was sentenced to a series of short-term lockups: one year, two years, six months, one year.

For a while after his release, Santiago progressed in his recovery from the heroin addiction. For 14 years, he took methadone, a form of medication-assisted treatment that wards off opioid use disorder. Describing himself as ​“a smart guy [and] a fast learner,” he used that period of sobriety to earn an associate’s degree in accounting at Gateway Community College.

But Santiago soon relapsed. He fell back in with the Gonzalez brothers.

Given his long drug use, Santiago was specifically hired as their ​“tester.” After he injected the dope, Santiago recommended how much the dealers could cut the heroin with other chemicals.

In 2016, DEA agents arranged a number of controlled purchases from the Gonzalez network. By that November, investigators had enough proof to obtain a wiretap for several cell phones, including Bienvenido Gonzalez’s three phones and Santiago’s number.

Based on the conversations, the government claimed that Santiago was Bienvenido’s ​“most trusted associate,” the go-to person to take over the organization when he wasn’t around, including three weeks around Christmas in 2016.

“Bienvenido confided in Santiago, trusted his assessment, and shared important details with him,” Natasha Freismuth, an assistant federal prosecutor, wrote in a pre-sentencing memo.

In four intercepted calls, Santiago advised Bienvenido about the purity of their latest buys, totaling over three kilograms. After injecting one batch, he reported a stinging pain in his veins, while another user, who’d snorted the drug, had no complaints — reviews that helped the Bienvenido market the drug to slammers.

But Santiago didn’t cash in on a nicer house, fancy cars or bling with his earnings.

“Santiago made regular, periodic deposits of the proceeds … up his arm,” Donovan wrote in his report.

Unemployed, Santiago stayed in his brother’s basement, where he shot up. Twice, he overdosed. ​“Santiago depended on his sale of drugs to earn a living,” Donovan continued.

In court on Tuesday, Meyer asked Santiago why he’d joined the traffickers.

“I haven’t had a lot of people with college degrees in front of me, so help me understand why you weren’t able to take advantage of that ability,” he asked. ​“What happened?”

Santiago said he’d been a ​“follower,” doing what the Gonzalez brothers told him. ​“Sometimes, I follow the wrong crew.”

After his arrest last March, Santiago went ​“cold turkey” in a holding facility in Central Falls, R.I., shivering through withdrawals with only Tylenol to ease the pain. He said he doesn’t want to come back to New Haven after his release, to avoid getting caught up in the same crew.

After that explanation, prosecutors advocated for a tougher sentence. They pointed to a skyrocketing number of opioid overdoses, which were expected to claim over 1,100 lives in Connecticut last year. Paramedics in New Haven, who respond to every one of those close calls, said Fair Haven’s been hit particularly hard by heroin.

“The defendant’s crime was far from a victimless one,” wrote Freismuth, the government’s attorney. ​“He was putting poison into his community.”

But Meyer said he wasn’t so sure that Santiago directly pushed drugs onto the street, outside of the two times when they caught him in 10-gram buys. Probing the extent of Santiago’s involvement, the judge said he seemed to be ​“essentially a footman, the person on the outside who’s giving advice.” Meyer also cornered the government into admitting that they didn’t know how much Santiago had been paid, whether he’d just been ​“thrown a bump,” as Meyer put it.

Prosecutors responded that a gang’s use of a tester differentiated the small-time dealer from the organized trafficker. ​“It’s our belief that you don’t just roll out of bed and become a kilogram distributor of heroin,” Freismuth said. ​“By performing an essential operation, by being a tester, [Santiago] effected large quantities of heroin on the street.”

Unconvinced, Meyer eventually bucked the government’s recommendation. Rather than imposing a harsh sentence right away, he gave Santiago six years — just above the minimum set by Congress. He also ordered that Santiago undergo weekly drug tests for the first six months right after his release. After, the tests would be less often for the remainder of four years.

If Santiago appeared before him again for violating those terms, Meyer said he wouldn’t be so lenient.

Santiago nodded solemnly throughout, as the judge leaned forward onto his folded hands.

“If you start using again, I’ll hear about it from the probation office, and you’ll almost certainly be remanded. I’ll think about this day, and I’ll say, ​‘This is somebody who the court … decided not to take … as seriously as it could have,” Meyer said. ​“But you should know that this is not a judgement overall on your person and your ability to succeed on a future day when you’re back in society.”

All five of the Gonzalez brothers have pled guilty. Ruben, a redistributor, was sentenced to 77 months in prison last month. The four other brothers, including the two kingpins Bienvenido and Antonio, are scheduled to appear before Meyer for sentencing over the next three months.