theft

On Nov. 28, 2017, French President Emmanuel Macron called for the “temporary or permanent restitution” of objects of African cultural heritage that reside in French museums during a speech at the University of Ouagadougou in Burkina Faso.

Four men were convicted Tuesday of stealing almost $6 million from Columbia in October and November 2010.

The New York Post reported that George Castro, Jeremy Dieudonne, Joseph Pineras, and Walter Stephens, Jr. each face one to three years in prison for the theft. Prosecutors said that the men manipulated the computer system that Columbia uses to pay vendors, diverting millions of dollars intended for a hospital into the bank account of Castro's information technology company.

Police arrested Castro in November 2010 after Columbia discovered an unauthorized account in its electronic payment system. Castro, the signator on that account, was apprehended at home with $200,000 in cash and an $80,000 Audi purchased with the stolen money.

The four men pulled off the scheme with the help of Pineras, who worked in the University's finance department. Prosecutors said that Pineras received about $10,000 for aiding the theft.

Defense attorneys argued that the men hadn't realized the money was being stolen. According to the Post, they blamed the theft on another employee of Columbia's finance department, Moise Jean-Paul, who testified against the defendants.

Sentencing will take place Sept. 24.

sammy.roth@columbiaspectator.com

Two of the men convicted of stealing nearly $6 million dollars from Columbia were sentenced to at least seven years in prison Monday.

George Castro and Jeremy Dieudonne were found guilty in August of grand larceny, criminal possession, and money laundering. Prosecutors said that Castro and Dieudonne, along with two other men, manipulated the University's computer system, siphoning off millions of dollars intended for New York Presbyterian Hospital into one of Castro's IT company's bank accounts.

Judge Robert Stolz sentenced Castro to eight to 24 years in prison and Dieudonne to seven to 21 years in prison. Assistant District Attorney Kim Han said at New York's Criminal Court on Monday morning that Castro was "motivated by callous greed ... which led him into taking the easy way of earning money and stealing it," then using the cash to pay off debts and buy an $80,000 Audi Q7 and various Apple products. Castro has said that the money simply appeared in his account.

"Castro showed no remorse for his actions," Han said. "He took the stand and repeatedly lied."

Han also pointed to Castro's past criminal ventures, including a five-year conviction in 1981 for armed bank robbery.

"It would be inaccurate to say that he had been leading a law-abiding life," she said.

Defense attorneys asserted that the money recovered from Castro amounted to significantly less than the amount he was supposed to have stolen. They added that Castro now has two children with a New York State police officer, which they called a sign that he had undergone a change of character.

Han called the other defendant, Jeremy Dieudonne, the brains of the operation. Dieudonne chose to represent himself in court.

"Dieudonne put the scheme into effect after he found the Columbia University insider," Han said, referring to the help that Castro and Dieudonne received from Joseph Pineras, who worked in the University's finance department.

Dieudonne, however, argued that he had been set up, saying on Monday that he "was not running away" when he was arrested in Massachusetts living under a fake name.

"I'm not guilty of anything, I'm not a thief. I'm a son of a preacher—I don't steal, I don't kill," Dieudonne said. "All these people are saying lies about me, and that's all it is."

Despite those claims, Stolz said that Dieudonne played "a central part" in the theft, and sentenced him to seven to 21 years in prison for two counts of criminal possession in the first and second degree, as well as one count of grand larceny in the first degree. Sentencing for Pineras and the fourth defendant, Walter Stephens, Jr., was postponed.

Members of Dieudonne's family, some of whom were present at the sentencing, expressed outrage at his prison sentence, saying they planned to assist Dieudonne with his appeals process.

"Nothing in that courtroom was fair," Linda Dieudonne, Jeremy Dieudonne's sister, said.

"The verdict was unjust. There was no evidence to point to complicity other than what Castro said," Ronald Gauntt, Dieudonne's cousin, said. "Why is Jeremy the brain when [Castro's] wife is getting everything?" he asked, arguing that Castro's Audi SUV was registered in his wife's name.

"It slaps in the face of common sense," Gauntt added.

A University spokesperson declined to comment on the sentencing.

luke.barnes@columbiaspectator.com

Three suspects believed to be responsible for the thefts of laptops and small electronics on campus were arrested last week in a joint venture between Public Safety and the 26th Precinct, which covers Morningside Heights. "I am happy to report that Public Safety and the 26th Precinct detectives effected the arrest of those responsible for the wave of laptop larcenies in recent weeks All are to be commended for this outstanding team effort!" wrote Vice President for Public Safety James McShane in an email sent to administrators last Tuesday. These arrests are a sigh of relief for many students after a string of thefts in Hartley residence Hall, the Alpha Delta Phi fraternity house, and the Kappa Alpha Theta sorority house. The arrest was triggered when a student recognized the suspects from an alert Public Safety distributed early last week. "It was a student tip and the other interesting thing was that all of the rooms where they stole the laptops from were unlocked," said Terry Martinez, dean of community development and multicultural affairs. The suspects arrested have no apparent affiliation with the University or any of the occupants of the residence halls or houses, yet, according to Martinez, they had done their research. "The other thing was interesting enough, once they were in the brownstones they had a lot of knowledge about the college and the buildings," Martinez said. "So they were engaging with them, in these conversations with students, they mentioned like, 'Oh, you're going running why don't you go to Dodge.' They knew the campus. They posed as students." Martinez added that it is important for students to be cautious about their space and their property, especially when strangers are around. According to the New York penal code, grand larceny in the fourth degree is classified as a class E felony, carrying a minimum prison sentence of a year. Grand larceny is likely the charge that has been brought against these suspects, as the value of the property stolen exceeded $1,000. The 26th Precinct did not respond to requests for comment and declined to provide the names of the suspects. Last week, Public Safety encouraged students to remain vigilant about locking their doors and to take advantage of campus security measures to register computers, bicycles, and other valuables. For the residents of Hartley 8A, the suite where some of the thefts took place, it's back to business as usual. "I think it was mostly just a problem of students taking responsibility for their possessions," said Rachel Chung, SEAS '15. Carlos Alfonso, SEAS '14, also saw the thefts as isolated incidents. "By now, I'm just getting into the habit of leaving it locked," Alfonso said. "I don't think a lot of people actually have the nerve to do something like that." Jackie Carrero and Kelly Lane contributed reporting. abby.mitchell@columbiaspectator.com

Headed down the hall? Columbia wants you to lock the door behind you. After a string of property thefts in campus residence halls and fraternity and sorority houses, some students are being more careful about locking their doors and keeping their laptops with them. "When I took a shower, I didn't lock my room. Now I do," Jasmin Neal, CC '14 and a Hartley resident, said. In the last three days, residents confirmed that Hartley Hall, the Alpha Delta Phi fraternity house, and the Kappa Alpha Theta sorority house all had property, including laptops, stolen from rooms. On Sept. 11, Public Safety Manager Ricardo Morales emailed students citing several reports of thefts, all of which happened when the "victim left their room unsecured." The email advised students to lock their doors, "even if you are going next door for a minute." Public Safety would not comment further because there is an ongoing investigation. Some students living in Hartley said they were taking extra precautions to make sure they weren't among the next victims. Khristopher Nicholas, CC '15 and another Hartley resident, said he already felt safe—but that hadn't stopping him from locking his door. "I'd lock my room, normally I leave it open," Nicholas said. "I have LoJack, so I'll be alright." Students in the other two houses said they had been told not to comment on the incident. But residents of Hartley were not the only ones among those concerned. "I live in university housing and I do leave my door unlocked when I go to the community kitchen," Robin Albrecht, GS, said. "I always thought it was fine because it seems like a safe community." Some didn't think the University's precautions were realistic. Kendra Mendez, CC '12, called it an inconvenience to worry every time she goes down the hall. "It sucks because you don't want to have to lock your door every time you're going to the bathroom," she said. For some students, the recent thievery also raised questions about building security. Jenny Payne, BC '15, said she was surprised a thief could get past campus security. "Campus is generally so safe and well-guarded by the security that we have. My RA was saying that it's so rare for this to happen," Payne said. "It didn't happen at all last year and hadn't happened before." But students weren't ruling out the fact that the thief could have been a student. Palmer Green, CC '13 and a Carman RA, said that he knew from personal experience that theft isn't unheard of at Columbia. "I remember two years ago there was also a laptop thief, and it turned out they lived on my floor," Greene said. "I was disillusioned then that a member of the Columbia community would steal." Abby Abrams, Abigail Conde, Karla Jimenez, and Avantika Kumar contributed reporting. jackie.carrero@columbiaspectator.com

Dear Stranger, It was 3:30 a.m., last call at Mel's on Saturday night. We only interacted briefly, but you left me thinking about you for the rest of the night. If you find it in your heart, reach out to me so we can reconnect. Now, I know what you must be thinking: This is one of those Missed Connections. Oh, Lord, no. Not even close. The Internet is good for a lot of things, but I'm not yet desperate enough to turn to it for dating. No, stranger, we probably didn't even meet, we probably didn't share a single word or exchange a single glance. But I know you are an egomaniacal, self-serving little prick. For, you see, last Saturday night, you stole my coat off the bench at Mel's and left me to walk back to EC in single-digit temperatures and minus-zero wind chill, cold and coatless. Did my jacket keep you warm? Does it fit you well? It's a pretty nice coat—a black Banana Republic pea coat. It's my favorite coat, in fact, one that I had owned for three-and-a-half years, having brought it my first semester at Columbia. People wear pea coats in New York, but not in Buffalo, my hometown; with that coat I felt one step closer to being a New Yorker. Which is to say, that coat had sentimental value to me but none to you. My evening had been going well, at least by Columbia standards—a dorm party at EC, followed by 1020 and Mel's. So when, around a quarter to four, the bartenders were shooing the dipsos away from the bar and the bouncers started leering at patrons to leave, I went for the bench where I had placed my coat an hour earlier and found the scarf and hat I had stuffed into my jacket lying suspiciously alone on the bench. Why you didn't steal those accessories along with my coat, I'll never know. Perhaps like other bottom-dwelling, scum-of-the-earth criminals you leave your signature at the scene of the crime just to baffle grizzled police detectives and sozzled college students. Whatever doubt I had over whether my coat had been stolen or just taken accidentally was laid to rest when I saw two other barflies buzzing around in search of their respective winter wear. You'd obviously lifted theirs too. This wasn't just some sudden kleptomaniacal itch that you were scratching; this was premeditated thievery. Theft is not uncommon on campus, and surely every single last one of us has had something taken from them (Lord knows I find food more appetizing when it's my suitemates'). Unknowns among us—some obviously Columbia students, some obviously not—steal property for myriad motives: for kicks, for profit, for personal use. I ought not speculate on your particular motives, stranger, but I will anyway: Given that three coats had gone missing that night, I imagine you stole the coats to sell them. Perhaps you truly need the money—but more likely than not you are a fellow Columbian, and that is not the case. Everyone knows Columbia students sell drugs when their wallets are light. When I asked a bouncer at Mel's that night what I should have done to protect my property—given that the restaurant didn't have a coat check, as far as I could tell—he simply offered that I should have kept a better eye on it. I didn't agree with him then—I did, after all, have to walk half a mile home in cold, albeit comforted by a slice of Koronet pizza. Now, as I prepare to take a day out of this weekend to shop for a replacement jacket, I realize I should have been more careful with my belongings. I wish I could say that Columbia is a community of mutually supportive and respectful collegians who abide by a simple kindergarten maxim of not taking what's not theirs. But as an economics major, I've been taught that people—college-educated or not—are self-interested actors, and if their interest is to steal your coat, they'll be damn sure to act on it. If I had been more careful, I wouldn't need to write this letter. I'm the one responsible for my irresponsibility. What I mean to say to you, connection I wish I missed, is: It's not you, it's me. Always yours, Dino Dino Grandoni is a Columbia College senior majoring in economics-political science. He is a former Spectator head copy editor. The Lowest Common Dino-minator runs alternate Fridays.

Lock your doors and beware of strangers—or so residents of East Campus are being advised to do after a spate of robberies were reported on Sunday night. Kristen Sylvester, associate director of the Office of Residential Programs, confirmed in an email to EC residents that a number of laptops and other electronic equipment were stolen from EC suites over the weekend. James Kahmann, CC '12 and a resident of the 16th floor of EC, said his suite had "a few computers stolen." "It's really sad that the residents of EC do have to be more careful with locking their doors exterior to the suite, and their personal doors, and generally using common sense," he said. He and his suitemates haven't learned any new information about the robberies. "At this point, it could be anybody, and the investigation is ongoing," he said. Kahmann expressed his hopes that "if anybody has any leads aside from the monetary value of what was stolen, people should help figure out who this is to save our student community." Other residents of the 16th floor—from which at least two suites had electronics stolen—have been taking precautionary measures in the wake of the incidents. "We're not going to leave our door open," Emily Shea, CC '12, said. "I'm not worried as long as our doors are locked I guess, but we have left our doors open in the past and will not be doing that in the future. It definitely is a little disconcerting if it's Columbia students." "A couple of times we've just forgotten the key in the door," Nikita Manilal, CC '12, said. After hearing about the thefts while away from campus, she said, "I had a friend double-check the door—which I wouldn't think of doing if this hadn't happened." Sixteenth floor resident adviser Alex Frouman, CC '12, advised his residents in an email to "ask people who they are if you see strangers in your suite and don't leave stuff out." This weekend's robberies are reminiscent of a string of thefts that hit campus in September. In the span of three days, students who had left their doors unlocked had property stolen from them in Hartley Hall, the Alpha Delti Phi fraternity house, and the Kappa Alpha Theta sorority house. In all three cases, laptops were among the stolen goods. Three suspects were charged with grand larceny by the end of the month. yasmin.gagne@columbiaspectator.com

Getting your wallet stolen is always such a hassle. First, you convince yourself that it's just been misplaced. So, you check all the usual locations: coat pocket, refrigerator, that rock climbing gym in Staten Island. Next, you begin to panic. This is the stage when you begin to mutter profanities under your breath. It usually sets in when the first pangs of hunger strike and you realize that there's no hope of procuring food without cash, credit card, or sympathetic pictures of family members. Finally, you reach what I call the "abject resignation" phase, and call your parents with the bad news. The stern words you receive will be comparable to the "you crashed the car" lecture, but not as bad as the "you forgot your 11-year-old brother at a gas station after midnight" lecture. If I sound familiar with the process, it's because I'm an extremely empathetic person. Also, someone stole my wallet on Tuesday. The irony that the theft occurred during my self-defense class was not lost on me. If only the bandit had assailed me face-to-face with that extremely specific and ineffective attack that I'd been trained to ward off! Instead, the varmint slipped the wallet out of my jeans-pocket after I'd changed into my "gi," a karate uniform that makes me look like a portly chef. What hurt me most was not losing my driver's license and my Pinkberry stamp card—although losing the stamp card was a tremendous blow. It was the realization that somebody in the Columbia community had stolen my wallet. I felt short of breath, tired, and a cold sweat ran down my spine. Of course, it's possible these symptoms had more to do with my P.E. class than the betrayal of my trust. But it feels much better to blame the thief. Abstractly, I always knew that something like this could happen to me. My inbox gets more spam from Public Safety than Viagra. (Not by much, though.) Yet, Columbia has always felt too much like home for me to take the notifications seriously. It probably doesn't help that I've never read those emails, anyway. Pretty soon, I found myself re-examining some of my basic assumptions about our school. Is Columbia a tight-knit community or a cold bureaucracy? How many people on this campus can I really count as friends? And why is there a lactation room in Carman? None of these questions have simple answers, but most of us go about our daily lives taking them for granted. Luckily, I did not have to wait long for relief. That evening, my roommate took me out for pizza. When we stopped by Pinkberry afterwards, a sympathetic employee gave me a frozen yogurt on the house. More surprisingly, a complete stranger approached me on the street and offered me a back rub. He seemed quite genuine. The best news of all came when I arrived home and checked my email. Someone had not only found my wallet, but also taken it upon himself to personally return it to me. While the money was long gone by the time it was discovered, the thief had left behind my credit card, driver's license, and my ticket for a show described by the New York Times as "shockingly mediocre." I thanked the student for tracking me down, resisted the impulse to jokingly ask if he was the one who'd stolen my cash, and parted ways. With the incident behind me, there are now two options going forward. I can embrace Columbia as an imperfect, yet generally good community. Or I can barricade myself in my room with a mini fridge and cry hysterically until the semester is over. For most of us, it should be obvious that the former is better than the latter. Just be careful not to leave your valuables out in the open where they can be stolen. At the end of the day, it's impossible to live somewhere for four years without beginning to feel invested in the place. Schapiro Hall is my house. John Jay is my kitchen. The underground tunnel system is my rat-infested basement. And all of that is as it should be. Except, please, someone get rid of the rats. Jeremy Liss is a Columbia College junior majoring in English. He is the creative editor of The Current. Liss is More runs alternate Thursdays.

From her perch behind the cash register at a local clothing store, the manager warily watches three teenage boys milling around a display case. They've done nothing overtly suspicious, but she remains on guard nonetheless. "Shoplifting definitely went up this summer, no question about it," said "Julia," who has been managing the Morningside Heights store—a branch of a national chain—since December, and declined to give her real name because she didn't have permission from corporate headquarters to speak to the press. "It always goes up in the summer, but this year stood out." Petty theft is nothing new to retail workers in New York. Private security guards or police are summoned and business proceeds as usual. But locals were shaken last month when a Harlem storeowner, Charles Augusto, shot four young men—two fatally—as they tried to rob his 125th Street restaurant supply shop. Julia said officers from the New York Police Department's 26th Precinct—which includes the Columbia campus and much of Morningside Heights—now pay more frequent visits to the store, a branch of a national chain. She said she was comforted by the added police presence, but was also prepared for the worst. She hired more private security personnel weeks before the August shootout in Harlem, less than 20 blocks away. The store owns a "silent alarm," a button behind the cash register that allows employees to notify the 26th Precinct if a robbery is in progress. Surveillance cameras are placed throughout the store and constantly monitored. "We all feel pretty safe here," Julia said. "But every one of us is conscious that something can happen at any time." The police take a similar attitude. "Crime is down citywide, and I wouldn't even say crime is high in Harlem," said Detective Joe Cavitolo, a department spokesman. "We place additional officers wherever there is greater foot traffic and a greater record of problems. One incident [like August's] will not really change much." Cavitolo said he did not suggest all storeowners purchase alarms. "It's nice if a store has an alarm, but we don't necessarily recommend that everyone buy one." And not all local managers and owners are rushing to enhance their security systems. Mamun Rashid, manager of the Subway restaurant on Broadway and 109th Street, said there have been no thefts during his three months managing the restaurant. "I haven't really needed to take precautions," Rashid said. "I didn't hear about what happened in Harlem." Sap Singh, manager of the T-Mobile store at Broadway and 108th Street, says he feels "very safe" behind the counter. "By the grace of God, we've had no problems and we don't think we will," Singh said. But the store still operates a few security cameras, and Singh noted with a laugh that there's a baseball bat in the closet.

Most gamers are probably still suffering from a gaming hangover after the barrage of awesome titles in 2007—and 2008 brings no rest for the weary. It looks to deliver even more gaming goodness than the record-breaking year that preceded it. Here are the 10 biggest games coming in 2008: