In judge’s case, not even a certified Casanova could use the love defense

Guys have been known to do a lot of crazy things in the name of love. Turn their backs on best friends. Trade in the Camaro for a Caravan. Go on a diet. Get a tattoo.

But seldom in the annals of amour do we encounter love as a defense in a judicial ethics complaint. That, in essence, is Family Court Judge Nicholas Del Vecchio's defense as he attempts to address the 38-count complaint filed Feb. 8 by special prosecutor Mary Boetsch on behalf of the Nevada Commission on Judicial Discipline. In his response last week, Del Vecchio claimed that Rebeccah Murray's allegations of sexual harassment were mitigated by the fact the two had had a consensual relationship, and that at one point the judge wanted to marry her.

You see, it was about love. And when the love dissolved, the bitterness remained.

Except that, well, that's not Murray's version of events. For starters, she accuses Del Vecchio of taking advantage of her more than a decade ago when she was just 14 and he was married to her mother. She alleges he shot nude photos of her and coerced her into performing oral sex.

Murray went to work for Del Vecchio in May 2002 as a judicial executive assistant. She claims the judge threatened to fire her if she broke off their relationship.

She has since filed a lawsuit against Del Vecchio claiming harassment on the job, assault, and infliction of emotional distress. The judge wants that lawsuit to play out before the judicial discipline commission makes a determination.

Alas, there's a problem with Del Vecchio's story of love gone awry. The stinging allegations directly involving Murray make up approximately one third of the total the judge faces.

If we were to somehow magically make those go away, you're essentially talking about 26 charges coming in from a wide range of sources. And not even a certified Casanova would be able to use the love defense on these eye-poppers.

Like the time the judge allegedly told court clerk Patti Camarote to take out law clerk Michael Bognar and "make a man out of him." And the time the judge supposedly told his clerk she "needed to get laid."

And there's the time he allegedly told a judicial assistant to date certain attorneys and dress provocatively in order to better solicit campaign contributions from lawyers who practiced in family court. I'm not sure, but I'll wager such donation hustling tactics are frowned upon -- at least officially.

Not even a broad definition of love will help the judge defend against allegations he slurred the Mexican heritage of bailiff Richard Tamez. Saying, "Where is my lazy Mexican bailiff? He's probably asleep under his chair," is hard to explain away as anything other than ethnically insensitive and unfunny. And using the term "wetbacks" to describe Latinos, as is alleged, isn't going to win Del Vecchio any sensitivity points, either.

Then there are the sexually suggestive and otherwise inappropriate remarks the judge is said to have made about court employees Imogene Serrano, Beata Funk, Meredith Simmons, Patsy Ross, Ladeena Gamble, Natalie Smalling, and Wilma Sawtelle.

This guy's no Dr. Phil. Perhaps it's easier to just ask for a show of hands of all family court employees that Judge Del Vecchio didn't say something inappropriate about. And, according to the complaint, there aren't many ethnic groups he didn't offend.

At some point, didn't anyone at the court think to lock the little pervert in a broom closet for safekeeping?

That's the problem with any defense that begins with an ode to lost love, no matter how twisted. In the judge's case, it doesn't account for a CAT busload of court employees who have been the subject of the guy's potty mouth and dirty-old-man-in-a-black-robe routine.

Who knows, maybe Judge Del Vecchio's twisted story of love won and lost will overcome all the other damning accusations he faces as he fights to keep his job. Yeah, maybe.

But don't be the house on it.

Or will it be, as I suspect, that eventually judicial discipline commission members will find themselves logically asking, "What's love got to do with it?"

Frankly, I think Del Vecchio would have been better off getting a tattoo.

John L. Smith's column appears Sunday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. E-mail him at Smith@reviewjournal.com or call (702) 383-0295.