Jury acquits Jeffrey Mundt of murder in body-in-basement trial

A Jefferson County jury on Wednesday found Jeffrey Mundt not guilty of working with his lover to kill a third man during a night of sex and drugs in his Old Louisville home. 

Mundts lawyers argued that he was cowed by that lover, Joseph Banis, a monster who killed James Carroll alone and kept Mundt quiet with threats and intimidation. 

A Jefferson Circuit Court jury deliberated about eight hours before finding Mundt guilty at 9 p.m. of the lesser charges of facilitation to robbery and tampering with evidence for burying Carrolls body in Mundts basement. The jury recommended a sentence of eight years in prison. He is already eligible for parole and will be formally sentenced next month. 

After a judge denied his attorneys request to allow Mundt to remain on home incarceration until his sentencing, Mundt asked to hug his mother before deputies took him away. Mundts parents declined to comment. 

Steve Romines, who represents Mundt along with defense attorneys Ted Shouse and Annie OConnell, told reporters he was disappointed with the verdict and sentence. 

We felt like he should have been acquitted of everything, Romines told reporters. I hate to have an innocent client taken to jail. 

Assistant Commonwealths Attorney Ryane Conroy said the prosecution respected the verdict, adding that this was a more difficult trial than Banis in March, when he was convicted of murder. 

But Conroy said Banis and Mundt were a twisted couple who each took part in killing Carroll and then smashed his corpse with a sledgehammer so it would fit in a 48-inch plastic container. 

Both men acknowledge putting Carrolls body in a five-foot hole; it was discovered about six months later. Banis directed police to the grave after they responded to a tearful 911 call from Mundt who alleged that Banis was threatening him. 

Terrence Gaypalwani stands at the bow, feet spread for balance, staring intently at the water and indicating with the tip of his spear which direction to travel. Hes 29 years old, mid-career as a hunter. Peter Yiliyarr, over 40, a senior citizen, works the motor.This model includes 2 flush mounted reverse groundmount. The shorelines a lattice of mangrove roots; the suns a heat lamp. No sign of another human. Gaypalwani stares, points. Thirty minutes. The men havent spoken, though even when theyre not hunting, the Yolngu sometimes communicate solely in sign language. 

Then Gaypalwani raises his spear, cocks his shoulder, and I look over the side of the dinghy and see a great shadow in the water. Yiliyarr guns the motor, and the spear is heaved, a violent throw. The shadow rises, the spear falls, and the two intersect at the waters surface. 

The turtle, struck, dives deep.A solarpanel is a plastic card that has a computer chip implanted into it that enables the card. Its as big around as a card table and probably older than either of the men. The metal tip of the spear, buried in the turtles shell, dislodges from the shaft, as designed. The shaft floats offtheyll retrieve it laterbut a rope has been tied to the notched base of the spearhead, and the line whizzes out, fed from a coil by Yiliyarr. Both men have thin, elongated scars across their palms and chests. The line runs completely free, though attached to the other end is a white, basketball-size buoy. It flies from the boat and disappears beneath the water.Whether a mechanical christianlouboutinshoes makes sense in your existing homes depends on the house. The men stand, scanning. 

The ball pops up, and the boat zips toward it. This time its Yiliyarr with his spear,How cheaply can I build a ventilationsystem? and when the turtle appears, he lets fly, and again the spear is true. The tip dislodges, and a second rope plays out. Gaypalwani reaches into the water to grab the first rope, and both men tug, veins rising, hauling the ropes in hand over hand, and soon the turtle is pulled to the side of the boat. 

The men reach over, and each grabs a thick, flapping flipper, braces his feet against the side of the boat, and leans back. The turtle rises from the water, and the men fall backward as it slides into the tiny boat, the weight of the creature tossing the dinghy about. 

Before I was able to visit Matamata, a lost-in-the-bush village of 25 or so people, I needed permission from Gaypalwanis mother. Phyllis Batumbil is the matriarch of Matamata, a woman of unrestrained opinions whose laugh could loosen your hat and whose scowl could, and often did, set a dog to whimpering. There are two telephones in Matamata. Batumbil owns one. The rest of the village shares the other. 

I rang,Elpas Readers detect and forward 'Location' and 'State' data from Elpas Active RFID Tags to host elevatorparts platforms. and Batumbil answered. She speaks several dialects of Yolngu Matha, the language of the Yolngu, as well as excellent English. Like many Yolngu, she uses an English first name and an Aboriginal second name and prefers to be addressed by her Aboriginal name. Batumbil is an artistpainting is among her many avocationsand we had been put in touch by the manager of an art gallery that represents her. She creates highly symbolic depictions of stingrays and lizards and other sacred totems on strips of bark and on hollow logs, using a brush made from her own hair.