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Sentencing underway in Washington’s unusual version of ‘Breaking Bad’ Sentencing underway in Washington’s unusual version of ‘Breaking Bad’
(about 9 hours later)
The final chapter in one of the Washington region’s most bizarre recent drug cases — a police officer convicted of trying to cook meth inside a renowned government science lab, and causing a violent explosion — opened Thursday at a sentencing hearing in federal court. As unbelievable as it sounds, no one disputes that Christopher Bartley did it:
Christopher Bartley, 41, a former lieutenant and acting chief for the police force at the National Institute of Standards and Technology (NIST), could be sent to prison for more than three years if prosecutors have their way. Should Bartley’s attorneys prevail, he would be placed on probation and allowed to live at home in Maryland. While working as a police officer at a high-end federal science complex north of Washington, he slipped into a lab one Saturday night, tried to cook meth and set off a violent explosion that blew out four windows of the building. It certainly qualified as one of the area’s more bizarre drug cases of 2015.
The requests — laid out in court papers filed ahead of the hearing— reflect starkly different accounts of why Bartley tried to make a small batch of the highly addictive street-drug methamphetamine. The two sides also differ on how much danger Bartley caused to others. His batch blew up on him, sending window panes flying more than 30 feet from the building where he was working alone on a Saturday night at NIST’s sprawling complex in Gaithersburg. What is a matter of intense debate — and was aired during Bartley’s lengthy sentencing hearing Thursday in federal court in Greenbelt — was how much he put others at risk.
The question of danger is central to the heart of how much prison time, if any, he will receive.
And as of early Thursday evening, with the hearing entering its eighth hour, his sentence still had not been set.
Bartley resigned the day after the July incident and pleaded guilty in the case in August. He could be sent to prison for more than three years if prosecutors have their way. If Bartley’s attorneys prevail, he will be placed on probation and allowed to live at home in Maryland.
The sentencing requests laid out in court papers reflect starkly different accounts of why Bartley, 41, tried to make a small batch of the highly addictive street-drug methamphetamine on the 578-acre campus of the National Institute of Standards and Technology (NIST) in Gaithersburg, Md.
“The defendant’s conduct endangered the very individuals whom he was charged with protecting,” prosecutors wrote in court papers filed in U.S. District Court in Greenbelt.“The defendant’s conduct endangered the very individuals whom he was charged with protecting,” prosecutors wrote in court papers filed in U.S. District Court in Greenbelt.
The prosecutors also floated the idea that Bartley wanted to try the drug himself. An analysis of his smart phone, they asserted, revealed that a day before the meth-cook Bartley had clicked on a Web page titled “How Long Does Meth Stay in Your System?” The prosecutors also floated the idea that Bartley wanted to try the drug himself. An analysis of his smartphone, they asserted, revealed that a day before trying to cook the meth, Bartley clicked on a Web page titled “How Long Does Meth Stay in Your System?”
Bartley pleaded guilty in the case in August. And his attorney Steven VanGrack has said for months that his client was learning how to make meth so he could hold training sessions for fellow officers about the production and dangers of the drug. Knowing how long it stayed in a person’s system was part of that study, VanGrack said. Steven VanGrack, an attorney for Bartley, has said for months that his client was learning how to make meth so he could hold training sessions for fellow officers about the production and dangers of the drug. Knowing how long it stays in a person’s system was part of that study, VanGrack said.
Earlier: A bumbling episode of Breaking Bad Earlier: A bumbling episode of ‘Breaking Bad’
In court papers, VanGrack described his client as a man of impeccable character: “A 14-year NIST police officer, an honorable veteran of the U.S. Army, a devoted father, a committed employee, a kind friend, a thoughtful man of faith.” NIST is known for its Nobel Prize-winning research in areas including atomic physics. It has its own police force, which is responsible for traffic safety, responding to possible crimes, and protecting buildings that house sensitive materials and trade secrets, according to court filings. Bartley began working for the force in 2001 and was a lieutenant and briefly its acting chief.
VanGrack stressed that while the explosion was dramatic and his client suffered second-degree burns to his arm and singed eyebrows, the meth-cook was done under a fume hood during a quiet weekend evening. Bartley resigned from NIST on July 19, the day after the explosion. On Thursday, prosecutors called three witnesses, including Ryan Winpingler, of NIST’s fire department. He was working the night of the July 18 incident and was called to the lab because Bartley’s meth-making explosion triggered a silent heat alarm.
The sentencing documents present new details of drug-making in the least likely of places. Winpingler’s testimony made clear that he and another firefighter didn’t get a direct answer from Bartley about what had happened. But it was evident that he’d been burned.
Stretching across a 578-acre campus — some 15 miles north of Washington — NIST is better known for its Nobel Prize-winning research on subjects like atomic physics. The Institute has its own police force, responsible for traffic safety, responding to possible crimes, and protecting buildings that house sensitive materials and trade secrets, according to the court flings. Winpingler described the scene: Blown-out windows; Bartley with a burn on one arm and singed eyebrows, and walking near a trash can and a Dumpster.
According to Winpingler, Bartley told him that he was trying to fill his cigarette lighter with butane and that it exploded.
Winpingler said he had known the man had been trying to make meth — using a dangerous combination of cold medicine, household cleaners and camping fuel — “we never would have entered.”
Gary Young, Bartley’s supervisor at the NIST police force, also went to the scene that night and testified Thursday. He, too, was told the butane story. Young said that at 1:27 the next morning, after Bartley was taken to the hospital, he received an email from him.
“Gary,” the email began, “I really messed up tonight.” In the email, presented at the hearing, Bartley talked about his training plan.
In his research, he said, “I learned there was a new way to manufacture methamphetamines utilizing household items called shake and bake. I watched several videos on YouTube where police were demonstrating the method for their officers or the media.”
He was doing “a practice run and thought I was doing it as safely as possible but soon learned otherwise. I told the butane lighter story simply because I was so embarrassed that I made such a colossal mistake,” he continued, adding, “I am by no means a drug user which has always been verified by my urinalysis tests.”
Bartley wrapped up by saying: “I should have told someone of the idea, got it approved and so many other things that a list is to (sic) long to mention. I know that made (sic) a mistake and am fully prepared to accept the consequences.” He ended by saying he “just wanted you to know the truth. . . ”
Prosecutors and defense attorneys each called an expert witness to testify about the risk Bartley’s meth-making posed.
Robert Smith, a Drug Enforcement Administration agent, spoke about the inherent dangers to the “Shake and Bake” technique, citing a case he had worked on in which a garage door was blown off its hinges and a roof shifted. He specifically sized up Bartley’s written recipes and said the measurements were off. “You’re going to create a reaction that is a lot more violent,” he said.
But Daniel O. Chute, a defense witness and expert in environmental and workplace safety, said that by the time the first responders entered the lab after the explosion, it was not particularly dangerous. Part of the reason, he said, was that the windows had been blown out. “At that point, that room was open to the atmosphere,” Chute said.
In court papers, VanGrack called his client a man of impeccable character: “A 14-year NIST police officer, an honorable veteran of the U.S. Army, a devoted father, a committed employee, a kind friend, a thoughtful man of faith.”
When news broke this summer about Bartley’s case, people made jokes and comparisons to the TV series “Breaking Bad,” whose lead character, Walter White, is a brilliant chemist who makes meth in a pristine, high-tech laboratory.When news broke this summer about Bartley’s case, people made jokes and comparisons to the TV series “Breaking Bad,” whose lead character, Walter White, is a brilliant chemist who makes meth in a pristine, high-tech laboratory.
But the meth cook that Bartley tried was small, crude and relatively simple — known in some circles as the “shake and bake” method. By going online, Bartley could read how to make meth out of cold medicine, household cleaning products and camping fuel. On July 17, according to court documents, he stopped at a Target in Frederick, Md., where he purchased a cold medicine, Suphedrine. The next day, at a Giant store, Bartley purchased a similar medicine, Sudafed. But the meth-cook Bartley tried was small, crude and relatively simple. By going online, Bartley could read how to make meth out of cold medicine, household cleaning products and camping fuel. On July 17, according to court documents, he stopped at a Target in Frederick, Md., where he purchased cold medicine. A day later, at a Giant store, Bartley bought a similar medicine.
He arrived at work later that day with meth-making notes. He also had the cold medicine, ammonium nitrate pellets (from an ice pack), camping fuel, Drano Crystals, lithium strips cut from four AAA batteries, plastic bottles, a funnel and a coffee grinder. He arrived at work later that second day with meth-making notes.
After slipping inside a building on the edge of the campus, Bartley started his cook. “When he added water to the first bottle, the experiment went awry,” wrote VanGrack.
“When he added water to the first bottle, the experiment went awry,” wrote VanGrack, Bartley’s attorney.
The explosion, not uncommon in the world of meth-making, sent specially designed laboratory “pressure-release windows” flying away from the building, landing as far as 33 feet away. And it did something else as well.
“Unbeknownst to the defendant,” prosecutors Leah Jo Bressack and Mara Greenberg wrote, “the explosion he caused activated a silent heat alarm.”
Two NIST firefighters responded, and met Bartley as he was walking near the room. He had the arm injury, singed eyebrows and hair, and “a powdery substance on his pants,” prosecutors wrote. He told them he’d been trying to fill his butane lighter under the fume hood, which ignited the explosion.
From there, things grew more chaotic.
Other firefighters and police officers arrived, and found that Bartley had ditched his meth-making supplies — as well as a gas mask and safety glasses — in a nearby trash can and dumpster. He was sent to a hospital for treatment.
At 1:27 a.m. the next morning, Bartley emailed his supervisor, titling the communication “tonight’s explosion.” He explained how he had tried to make meth so he could present training to NIST officers and NIST scientists.
It seems clear that prosecutors don’t buy that explanation. “The defendant never mentioned, much less sought authorization, from any of his NIST supervisors to attempt to make methamphetamine,” they wrote.
Bartley’s attorney sees it differently.
His client joined the NIST force around 2001. He rose through the ranks, served briefly as acting police chief, and became what his attorney termed the “de facto director of training” for the force.
Bartley picked a time — a Saturday night — when relatively few people were on the campus. He selected a specific laboratory that was not in use. He operated under the fume hood. His plan, according to his attorney, was to learn how to cook the drug and then hold a training session that “involved the production of actual methamphetamine.”
Since being charged in the case, Bartley has worked as a shop foreman for the family’s concrete business and worked weekends at a Home Depot. He also volunteers at a youth job-training center.
VanGrack, his attorney, also stressed the small amount — one gram — of drugs his client was trying to make.
“Importantly,” VanGrack wrote, “the government has acknowledged that there was no indication that Mr. Bartley intended to sell the methamphetamine.”