By the Sword

Little Anthony's mother didn't like the 18-inch sabre he'd hung above his bed.

by Mike Newall

A murder trial began last week. Things being as they are in Philadelphia, little attention was paid to it. The case involved the brutal killing of a young person over drugs. The murder weapons were a hammer and a sword. The victim was 20-year-old Anthony DiMatteo, a thin, handsome kid who sold pot and pills out of his Porter Street apartment. Anthony was known by his tag, ELAY. Anthony's father is Big Anthony; Anthony was Little Anthony. Anthony respected his father, who was in prison at the time of his son's death in 2007 (and still is today). Anthony told his mother he was saving up to open a concrete business once his dad got out. He'd worked with his father as a teenager, pouring stamped concrete. Now, Anthony was making cash as a dealer.

"He'd always keep a thousand dollars in his pocket," an uncle would later testify.

Anthony had bought a black chinchilla coat. He modeled it at his mother Eileen's house in Marlton, N.J., where she moved after leaving South Philly to get her younger kids away from the street.

Eileen thought the coat was thuggish.

"Nah, it's cool, Ma," Anthony said. "Take a picture."

Anthony had been living on his own in the city. He asked his mother if he could live in Marlton with her. "Yes," she said, but by her rules: a real job, no smoking pot in the house, no Philly friends coming and going. She had built a quiet home for her daughters and she wanted it to stay that way. Anthony rented the Porter Street place instead. His mother gave him a couch and pots and pans. He'd been there a month, sharing it with his pit bull, Dutchie, named after blunts rolled from Dutch Masters cigars. Anthony's pregnant girlfriend came over often and the two of them sat on the porch. The night before he was murdered, Anthony's girlfriend, mother and two sisters came over for dinner. They cooked tacos, Anthony's favorite meal.

"Mom, you look at my bedroom?" asked Anthony. He had just finished decorating it. His mother scanned the room — the Al Capone and hip-hop posters, the sword hanging above the bed.

It was 18 inches long and 1 inches wide, with a decorative blade. Big Anthony's mother sold these swords at flea markets.

"I'm not liking that there," Eileen told her son.

"It's fine, Ma," said Anthony.

The next afternoon Anthony was watching college football in his bedroom when police believe two of his friends, Tajideen Whitaker and another man who has yet to be arrested, came to the apartment. Anthony let them in and they all went to the bedroom, where Anthony kept a large duffel bag of pot.

In the apartment upstairs, Edward Harty was lounging in his underwear watching the Discovery Channel. His television was busted, stuck on maximum volume. His 11-year-old son heard commotion. Edward went to his front door but didn't hear anything. The son heard more noises. Edward walked downstairs to Anthony's slightly open front door.

"Oh no, please," he heard Anthony saying.

Ten seconds passed and he didn't hear Anthony say anything else. But he heard two other voices.

"You're a bad bitch," one said.

"The dog bit me," said the other voice.

"Give it to me, turn around, turn around," the first one said.

Edward went upstairs and grabbed his shorts and gun.

He pushed open Anthony's bedroom door.

"It looked like a phony horror movie," he'd later testify.

Blood was splattered everywhere — streaked along the carpeting, walls and ceiling, the glass sliding closet doors, the television, the mattress, even Dutchie (who wasn't killed). Anthony was wedged between the bed and the wall. Authorities believe the two men overpowered him, took his .380 handgun, beat him with a hammer until he was defenseless with a cracked skull, then plunged the sword into his chest at least seven times. They stole the pot and the sword and left.

Cafe Nola | Paddy Whacks Irish Sports Pub | Cheerleaders Gentlemen's Club | Cream and Sugar | Hot Hands Studio: Massage, Skin Care & Body Treatments | Bermuda Tans: Platinum 5 Session Package | UniverSoul Circus: 11/11/09 Performance. Free with shipping! | UniverSoul Circus: 11/07/09 Performance. Free with shipping! | Theatre Exile: Hunter Gatherers, Two Tickets! | Optimal Sport Health Club (GOOD FOR ANY SERVICE GYM OFFERS)

HALF OFF DEPOT

Why live life at full price?

A preliminary hearing was held, after which the defense attorney floated a plea bargain that would put Whitaker in jail for 30 years. Eileen wanted a trial, life in prison. The prosecutor agreed. The commonwealth had witnesses who saw Whitaker fleeing the scene with the sword in his pants, as well as DNA evidence.

The other afternoon, Eileen sat on a bench outside a courtroom. "This is the last fight I can fight for my son," she said.

She is a small, polite, grief-shattered woman. Her shaking hands clasp the straps of the purse hanging under her arm.

"I am mustering every ounce of strength to face this," she said.

Later on, back in court, the prosecutor displayed the sword and hammer, then readied a projector screen.

Eileen and her daughters had been warned that they couldn't scream out in horror when the crime-scene photos were displayed — it could cause a mistrial. A crime-scene officer asked Eileen if she wanted to step outside. She remained seated. She would be there for Anthony.

The courtroom lights darkened and the photos began. The stab wounds looked like leeches across her son's chest.

Eileen looked at every photo, and did not cry out. Her hands never stopped shaking.