Building the Dasen case

Kalispell policeman Kevin McCarvel never intended to uncover a prostitution case that would shock the Flathead Valley. He was just doing his work on the drug team.

Deputy County Attorney Dan Guzynski didn't relish the idea of prosecuting prominent businessman Dick Dasen Sr. for sex crimes. He had enough cases to manage.

But both men pursued the case for more than a year, leading to Dasen's convictions for sexual abuse of children, promotion of prostitution and four counts of prostitution. About 20 women and girls were also convicted of prostitution.

The story is one of two men who tried to abandon the investigation when it seemed futile, but kept coming back to it because they thought it was the right thing to do.

Like the fabled house that Jack built, the matter drew in more and more participants. In the beginning, though, it was the case that McCarvel built that led to the longest trial in Flathead County history.

Beginning in the spring of 2003, McCarvel kept running into Dasen's name as he investigated methamphetamine cases. McCarvel talked to suspects who said their sisters, their friends, their girlfriends and daughters were buying methamphetamine with money that Dasen paid them for sex.

"I didn't know the man," McCarvel said of the Kalispell businessman. "His name comes up and not only is it that a lot of his money is being used for drugs, but he's involved with all these girls," McCarvel said. "What's going on here?"

Drug investigations tend to involve a lot of finger-pointing, he said. But the number of fingers pointed at Dasen got McCarvel's attention.

"I kept hearing how deeply involved he was. Part of it was, 'Approach with caution.'"

McCarvel wanted to talk to someone about what he was hearing, but he had some trepidation.

"I didn't know who Dasen was connected to or who would give him a heads-up" if the police started asking questions about the well-established, millionaire businessman.

McCarvel went to Guzynski, with whom he had worked on countless drug cases.

"I felt I could go to Dan. I trusted Dan," McCarvel said.

"It was the first time Kevin ever walked into my office and closed the door," Guzynski said.

"I didn't know who he was," Guzynski said of Dasen. "First, I had to be educated about who Dick Dasen was. This news was an absolute shock."

The question arose, why, after a supposedly long run of paying women for sex, was Dasen suddenly the subject of so much rumor and discussion in the drug community. McCarvel said there were a couple of reasons why people were talking.

One was that Dasen was becoming more brazen in his behavior and was getting involved with younger girls.

"His activity just exploded," McCarvel said. "Obviously, everybody was disturbed by underage girls."

The other motivation was the murder of Darlene Wilcock in a motel room where Dasen's DNA was found. Police have never said they think that Dasen killed her, but some women have said Dasen used the murder as leverage, implying that bad things would happen if they went to police. Fear motivated some women to talk, McCarvel said.

His investigation was conducted with the faith and confidence of Kalispell Police Chief Frank Garner, who recalls the first discussion he had with McCarvel about Dasen.

"I said, 'Are you sure?'" he remembers. When he was satisfied that McCarvel was, Garner trusted his officer to do the job, and said, "Keep me informed."

"I don't think any of us really knew how broad the investigation was going to be," Garner said.

McCarvel kept gathering stories of people who said they knew women who were having sex with Dasen for money they typically spent on drugs.

"It was kind of like the poodle who bites into a side of beef," McCarvel said.

He was feeding pieces of information to Guzynski, overwhelming him with evidence that fit together but seemed random, like a Paisley print.

"All of a sudden, one day, I walked into Dan's office and he knew what was going on," McCarvel said. The pieces fit.

But it wasn't enough, Guzynski said.

"You couldn't base a case on the word of these witnesses," he said. "How would you ever put a case together? Legally, it baffled us."

And it frustrated McCarvel.

"In very friendly terms, we were butting heads," McCarvel said. "He'd say, it's not enough. At some point, I'm like a dejected kid. He said, 'It's not going to work. You're spinning your wheels.' I was spinning my wheels. I was darn frustrated."

"I looked at Kevin and said, 'You need to worry about doing drug cases,'" Guzynski said. "He said, 'You're right.'"

"I tried to stop," McCarvel said.

He went on vacation. He thought it over. He worked drug cases when he got back.

"The problem is, at that time, you could not investigate drug cases in the valley without running into Mr. Dasen" as someone who was said to be financing a lot of methamphetamine.

McCarvel couldn't stop.

"We go on through the fall and even through the winter. I'm trying to work dope," he said. The accusations and allegations continued, but like Jello in the summer sun, they wouldn't solidify into anything with form.

And then, the case broke.

In January 2004, McCarvel and drug agent Pete Wingert were interviewing a woman involved in a drug case. Until then, McCarvel hadn't asked anyone directly about Dasen, but noted it when witnesses brought it up on their own.

"We're trying to conceal the investigation from Mr. Dasen," McCarvel said.

But then, McCarvel directly asked the woman about Dasen.

"She said, 'Yeah, he's helped me out,'" McCarvel said. "She won't admit to any sex."

Wingert and McCarvel walked out on the interview.

"She's lying. We know she's lying. I think what got to (her) is she knew we knew."

A half hour later, the woman called back and said she wanted to tell the truth.

"She tells us the whole story. She's the first one who admitted having a sexual relationship."

The woman handed over documents, phone records, and videotapes that substantiated what she said.

"It was like opening up Pandora's box," McCarvel said. He and Wingert considered what had just happened and wondered, "What have we done? What do we do with this?"

The woman moved out of her house that night, afraid for her safety, McCarvel said.

Despite her fear, she became an informant who was about to help police set up a sting. She called Dasen and allowed police to record the conversation.

"He took the phone call. He knows her. He doesn't seem surprised" when the woman proposed a meeting, McCarvel said. The "meeting" was at a local motel on Feb. 7, 2004.

In the room next door, police were recording the meeting. What happened "corroborated everything we had heard," McCarvel said.

"His demeanor is so telling. Here's a married man, a grandfather, meeting a girl who could conceivably be the age of his granddaughter. He takes his shoes off and makes himself at home."

The woman stood up and stripped down to her underwear.

"They're talking about finances. He hasn't said anything about her taking her clothes off," McCarvel said.

The woman talked about payments that were late on the car she financed through Dasen's business, Budget Finance.

"He says, 'Don't worry. I'll take care of it,'" McCarvel said. And then Dasen reached toward the girl's underwear and the police entered.

"He's in his underwear and socks."

On Feb. 11, 2004, Dasen was arrested for solicitation of prostitution and police executed search warrants at his home and two businesses, Budget Finance and Peak Development.

News of Dasen's arrest set in motion a lot of activity.

"After the sting … we're catching our breath. Now we have to go run the other marathon" of preparing for trial, McCarvel said.

Two underage girls came forward and told about their involvement with Dasen. His defense team got to work. And Guzynski began analyzing charges against Dasen.

It isn't County Attorney Ed Corrigan's style to bird-dog his attorneys. He realized the magnitude of the case, but trusted Guzynski to "do the right thing," and stepped back to let him develop the case.

Over the course of the year, Guzynski would layer on charges beyond the original prostitution charge. In the end, there were 14 charges. At trial, one would be dropped when a witness couldn't testify. But most importantly, the trial had almost never happened.

Guzynski had prepared the search warrants to collect evidence. They specified the documents, pictures, and objects that police would search for. But it turned out the search warrants were illegal. An affidavit describing the probable cause to conduct the search and the items to be seized was separate from the search warrant, instead of contained in the body of the warrant itself. It was the way prosecutors had prepared search warrants for years, but a Supreme Court ruling at the time clarified that the form was flawed.

Dasen's attorneys made the point that the search was illegal and everything from computers to sex toys that were seized had to be returned. It was the evidence that Guzynski needed to make his case and he had to give it back. The Dasen case looked like it was over.

"My heart just sank," said Roger Nasset, the new lieutenant of detectives for Kalispell Police.

"We all stayed calm," Nasset said, but he was sickened that in the midst of rumors that Dasen was either targeted because of, or would be protected by, his wealth and standing, the case could be lost because of a technicality. Nasset could only imagine how some people would believe police had "thrown a fight."

"Dan said, 'I hope you guys haven't lost faith in me,'" McCarvel said.

"I felt personally responsible. I looked at it as my job to find a way out of this," Guzynski said.

He found it.

The law says that after an illegal search, law enforcement must return to the same legal standing it was before the search. Officers can't benefit from an illegal search by using information they acquire, but they can't be penalized by needing more grounds for a subsequent, legal search.

Police returned the items they seized, knowing that at the same time they were asking a judge to sign new, flawless search warrants, and would reseize the items within hours.

McCarvel returned to the drug work he was assigned to from the beginning. Nasset and detective Jim Brenden took the investigative lead. Deputy County Attorney Lori Adams joined forces with Guzynski.

"It was tough for me to let go of it," McCarvel said. "It was like saying, 'Here's my mess, clean it up.' This was mine."

He was confident of the other officers' and Guzynski's ability to take over the case, he said, but that didn't make it any easier to step back.

What ensued was an intense team effort, Nasset said.

"We probably all had the thought in the back of our minds," that the case was almost too big. But, "The race had started and there wasn't a turning-back point."

Corrigan said his office was strained with the time the case took from Guzynski and Adams. With other staff issues going on, it was left to him and Deputy County Attorney Tim Wenz to handle the entire county's criminal caseload.

"Once (Dasen) was charged, there was no going back," Corrigan said. He agreed with Guzynski that, "We couldn't say, 'So what?' He was violating the law. It was fueling the drug trade in this valley." It was critical to Corrigan and his office to "show there aren't two systems of justice in this town" - one for those with money and one for those without.

Corrigan can point to cases that he feels are more significant, such as the case of Joseph Aceto, who is charged with attempted murder and kidnapping. But, "the scope of what (Dasen) did and the degree to which he betrayed the community," required the kind of legal response that Guzynski and Adams were devoting themselves to.

Guzynski and McCarvel stayed in close contact, even as McCarvel began backing off. They didn't always agree.

Guzynski was vocal about his desire to settle the case, without trial, if possible.

"This community as a whole was somewhat divided by this," Guzynski said. "It was a cloud over this community."

Police weren't going to favor much of a deal for Dasen. McCarvel said he understood about the expense and uncertainty of going to trial, but, "We definitely felt like Mr. Dasen needed to be held accountable."

Dasen would not admit to any criminal action, though, and the case was bound for trial.

Garner said his officers worked nights and weekends preparing for the trial, and still had 364 other felony cases to manage.

"The other criminals didn't take the year off," Garner said.

It took a toll on everyone's family life, Nasset said. He was astounded at how much time Guzynski spent on the case.

"I'd drive by (the courthouse) at night and see Dan's light on," McCarvel said.

McCarvel was "doing the job of two people, working this case and working his drug stuff," Nasset said. And "Dan Guzynski lived this case more than I would have expected of anyone."

"I spent more time on this case than on anything I've ever done or probably will," Guzynski said. "What alternative do you have?"

By the time a jury heard a month's worth of testimony, there were no alternatives. Dasen was convicted on six of 13 counts.

"I'm glad we didn't get a hung jury," McCarvel said.

Guzynski said he is "extremely satisfied with the verdict. The jury struggled with hard topics."

McCarvel said the verdict is nothing to celebrate, though.

"It was all a struggle. None of it was easy," he said.

"There are two things I will remember about this case," Guzynski said. "The courage of Kevin McCarvel and the commitment our office had after we messed up on the search warrants not to roll over on the case."

"It really took a lot of guts," Garner said. "They deserve a lot of credit."

Reporter Chery Sabol may be reached at 758-4441 or by e-mail at csabol@dailyinterlake.com