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A San Francisco woman died last night after being attacked inside her apartment building by two English mastiff and Canary Island cattle dogs as the dogs' horrified owner struggled to pull them away.

The leashed dogs -- with a combined weight of 233 pounds -- bolted from Marjorie Knoller's Pacific Heights apartment, dragged her down the hallway and lunged for the 32-year-old victim's throat as she frantically tried to open her front door, police and witnesses said.

The animals mauled the victim for about five minutes before Knoller, who was also bloodied in the 4 p.m. melee, could pull them back into her apartment at the corner of Pacific Avenue and Fillmore Street.

The victim died at 8:55 p.m. at San Francisco General Hospital, where she had undergone surgery for deep bite wounds on her throat. Authorities withheld her name at her family's request.

Paramedics had performed cardiopulmonary resuscitation as they raced the unconscious woman, who was near death and bleeding profusely, to the hospital.

"When she arrived . . . she was in full cardiac arrest," said Dr. S. Marshall Isaacs, an emergency room physician. "There were no signs of life."

SURGEONS WORKED

Surgeons spent almost two hours repairing the veins and arteries of her neck. Some of wounds were 1 1/2 inches deep, Isaacs said, and doctors had to insert a tube into her throat to support her trachea. She remained in "very critical" condition for 70 minutes after surgery before dying.

"They need to determine if anything criminal occurred," said Police Lt. Mary Stasko. "Right now it's a horrible accident. But they'll interview people to see if there's any history of aggression or any negligence."

The attack came as Knoller returned from walking the dogs around her Pacific Heights neighborhood, police investigators said. The victim apparently arrived home at about the same time.

The dogs were still on their leashes when they bolted from Knoller's sixth- floor apartment and bounded 15 feet down the hallway toward the victim, who was unlocking her door, police and witnesses said.

Bane, a 2 1/2-year-old male bullmastiff weighing 120 pounds, grabbed the victim by the throat, police said. A 2-year-old female named Hera and weighing 113 pounds joined the attack moments later.

A STRUGGLE

Knoller struggled to pull the dogs off of the screaming woman, said Robert Noel, Knoller's husband.

"My wife was covered with blood from the top of her head to her feet," said Noel, who arrived just after the attack ended. "Most of it was somebody else's (blood)."

"She was screaming in a major way," said David Kuenzi of New York, who was visiting a friend in the building. "I personally thought she was being mugged or raped."

Police and paramedics found the woman lying in blood, with bloody handprints covering the walls. Bits of clothing littered the floor, and a blood-soaked green nylon leash was lying nearby.

"It was a gruesome scene," said San Francisco Police Officer Leslie Forrestal. "There was shredded clothing, obviously a lot of blood. It was horrific."

TRANQUILIZERS USED

Animal control officers fired three tranquilizer darts into Bane before removing him and Hera from Knoller's apartment. They remained locked up last night in the city's animal shelter.

Noel, an attorney, said he obtained the dogs several months ago from a family that planned to breed the dogs before giving them up.

"They weren't really being taken care of very well," he said. "They apparently had been chained out in the weather."

Noel said the animals had no history of aggression and had seen the victim on several occasions without acting aggressive.

"I've had 80-year-old ladies want to come up and pet them," he said. "The dogs have always been really people-friendly."

But some of Noel's neighbors said they were intimidated by the animals' imposing size and always gave them a wide berth.

"People are visibly taken aback when they see the size of these dogs," said Ed Lewis, who lives on the fifth floor. "When neighbors have complained, they (the owners) have been standoffish."

The last dog attack that made headlines in San Francisco occurred on last March when Sidney, an Old English sheepdog, bit San Francisco police officer Jennifer Dorantes.

The attack came as Dorantes and her partner, Officer Julian Ng, responded to a 911 call at a home in the Castro-Amazon district. Ng fired at the dog and missed, instead wounding his partner and an 11-year-old boy in the house.

Bane, the Canary mastiff that mauled to death a 33-year-old Pacific Heights woman Friday, tragically lived up to their fears.

Yesterday, a number of neighbors said they knew that 3-year-old Bane was aggressive and regretted that they hadn't reported him to the city before.

One neighbor, who asked not to be identified, said she went so far as to work out a schedule with Bane's owner, Robert Noel, so their quarreling canines would not cross paths.

"None of us ever filed a complaint, and that's what makes me sick now," said Cydnee Dubrof, a dog owner who lives a few doors away from Noel and his wife, Marjorie Knoller. "This woman died from our negligence.'

On Friday afternoon, the 123-pound Bane lunged at Diane Whipple, who lived next door to Bane's owners in an upscale apartment building at Pacific Avenue and Fillmore Street. Whipple had just returned home from her job as women's lacrosse coach at St. Mary's College in Moraga.

"Marjorie just about had the dogs completely in the apartment when the elevator door opened and our neighbor came out," said Noel, who arrived home shortly after the attack. "Bane sort of perked up and headed down to the end of the hall. The woman had the apartment door open and was just standing there" when the dog attacked.

Despite the efforts of Noel's wife to come between the two, Whipple sustained deep bites to her neck and died at San Francisco General Hospital about five hours later.

"Marjorie was telling the woman to stay still, but she kept moving and Marjorie would try to cover her again," Noel said.

Whipple weighed less than the dog that killed her, said Susan Scheetz, a longtime friend who was Whipple's lacrosse coach at Penn State University. Scheetz guessed Whipple weighed 110 pounds and stood 5 feet 3 inches.

Bane, not a bull mastiff as initially reported but a lethal mix of English mastiff and Canary Island cattle dog, was destroyed at the city's animal shelter later Friday night. The couple's other dog, Hera, who was also in the hallway but according to Noel did not join in the attack, remained at the shelter yesterday. A shelter spokesman said the fate of 112-pound Hera, also a Canary mix, depended on the outcome of a police investigation.

Yesterday, no charges had been filed against Noel, 59, or Knoller, 45, both attorneys who work out of their sixth-floor apartment.

In fact, police say they're not even sure what the charges would be, it's so rare for a person to die from a dog attack.

At St. Mary's last night, spectators held a moment of silence before the men's basketball game against Pepperdine. Members of the women's lacrosse team,

Athletic Director Carl Clapp, who had been in Los Angeles with the women's basketball team, flew back to lend his support.

"The thing I remember most about Diane was her passion," Clapp said. "Whenever she talked about the women's lacrosse team, her eyes would start to water."

Friends described Whipple as an animal lover. She had two cats; she once owned a chinchilla, and she really loved dogs, they said. Heidi Peterson, an assistant coach at St. Mary's last year and a longtime friend, said she had to talk Whipple out of adopting a dog about two weeks ago.

"That's why this is so absolutely, completely ridiculous," Peterson said of the tragic incident. "I can't think of any other word for it. It's just ridiculous."

Despite neighbors' fearful accounts, Noel insisted that neither dog had ever shown aggression toward humans. In fact, Bane had in the past befriended a kitten, whom he would gently carry around in his mouth.

Noel recalled a greyhound he once owned who nipped at some children. "Inside the hour, that dog was at the vet with a needle in his arm," Noel said.

Noel recounted numerous stories of people, young and old, stopping on the street to pet his unusual charges.

Noel said he adopted the dogs about three months ago after suing, pro bono, on behalf of a client to have them released from a breeding facility that was leaving them chained outdoors.

The couple is known for their pro bono work, particularly on behalf of the city's homeless.

When Noel won the case, it was discovered that Bane and Hera were ineligible for breeding because of health problems. Noel decided to adopt them to keep them from being destroyed; the other dogs were returned to their owner,

Both were underweight; Bane had sores the size of half dollars on his ears from horsefly bites.

Noel remembered the first time he met Bane, whom he affectionately called 'The Big Guy.'

"The first thing Bane did was he sniffed me and licked my hand, then started licking me from my toes on up."

With women, Bane would usually give a few "well-placed sniffs," then roll over on his back so his stomach could be scratched, Noel said.

As for Hera, "She's a very perceptive person," Noel said, refusing to call her a dog. "When I'm feeling down, she'll sit down next to me and start licking me. She won't stop until she has me laughing."

The Canary dog is a powerfully built animal bred for dog fighting, according to information provided by the Animal Care and Control Department. The breed nearly became extinct in the 1960s because of a ban on dog fighting in its homeland, the Canary Islands.

Noel said Bane had his share of run-ins with other dogs -- one which ended in Noel having his right index finger almost severed.

The incident took place at Crissy Field a few months ago, he said, when another dog ran up and attacked him, and then Bane.

"I don't know who did it, but when the dust settled, I looked down and my finger had been almost completely severed," he said.

Knoller was recovering from injuries herself yesterday, Noel said, and did not want to talk to the press. She opted not to be treated at the emergency room at S.F. General because the couple were not ready to face the victim's family, who also were there, Noel said.

Noel said his wife has received death threats over the phone because of the incident.

He was at a loss to explain the attack on Whipple, who moved into the building to live with a friend about a month ago.

"Bane and I had encountered her at least four or five times in the past month," he said. "He had never shown the least bit of interest in her.

"It's a horrible tragedy for everybody involved," he said. "For our neighbor, her parents and family and people who loved her, it's got to be like ripping your heart out."

Yesterday, bouquets of flowers collected at the entrance to the apartment building.

Inside, the rug where the attack had taken place had been torn up and lay in a heap in front of Whipple's apartment door. A man who identified himself only as the building manager was scraping the floor.

Although Noel described his pets as gentle, experts on the breed say the dogs are notoriously aggressive.

Merry Johnson of Baltimore has bred and shown mastiffs for the past 25 years. She said in an interview that the Canary Island mix, Presa Canario, was bred for fighting contests in Spain.

So dangerous were the purebred Canario that Spain outlawed them in the 1930s, Johnson said. Mixing such a ruthless fighter with the large English mastiff, bred for pulling coal carts during wartime in England, is foolhardy, Johnson said.

Dr. Carl Semencic, in his book "Pit Bulls and Tenacious Guard Dogs," says of the breed: "As a guardian breed with man-stopping ability there is no dog that is more effective than the Canary Dog. . . . This dog . . . will not hesitate to attack anyone whom it perceives as a threat to its family or home. Such an attack could only be a hopeless situation for any man involved."

The descriptions come as no surprise to dog walkers familiar with Bane and Hera.

"He looked like the beast of death," said Dubrof, who referred to Bane as "Killer Dog" to her friends. Whenever she and her shepherd-Doberman mutt neared Bane, Noel would try to keep his distance, she said. "He definitely took evasive measures."

Another neighbor who worked out the dog-walking schedule with Noel said she began walking her dog in tennis shoes and bought pepper spray in case she ever needed to react quickly. "I literally changed my behavior. I needed to be prepared if the dogs got into a fight."

She became particularly concerned when she began to see Knoller walking both dogs. She had doubts that Noel could control one dog; she didn't think his wife would be able to control two, she said.

"I literally would take my dog and walk back into my apartment" if she saw them, she said.

Lynn Gaines, a professional dog walker who has worked in Pacific Heights for four years, actually asked Noel to put a muzzle on his dogs after they scared her charge.

Although he disagrees with his neighbors' assessment of his dogs, Noel is aware of how they feel. It's because of that sentiment, he said, that he may find another home for Hera if she's released by the animal shelter.

"I think she'd be fine here, but I don't know how the neighbors would feel, " he said.

For their part, Noel and Knoller, who have lived in their rented apartment about 11 years, have no plans on moving.

Whipple, a former member of the U.S. lacrosse team, had worked at St. Mary's since October 1999. Formerly, she was the head coach at the Menlo School, a college preparatory academy in Atherton.

The attack further riled debate over the city's leash law, which requires dogs to be leashed in public except in sanctioned dog parks, like at Crissy Field.

The Golden Gate Recreation Area's Citizens Advisory Committee last week delayed for 120 days a decision on whether to overturn a 22-year-old policy allowing dogs to run free on recreation area land.

The last dog attack that made headlines in San Francisco occurred last March when an Old English sheepdog bit a San Francisco police officer who was responding with her partner to a 911 call in the Castro.

The partner fired at the dog and missed, instead injuring the officer and an 11-year-old boy in the home.

Frightened Callers Swamp LinesWith Scary Dog Reports
Fatal attack has residents on edge

After the fatal dog attack on a woman in her Pacific Heights apartment building Friday, fearful callers flooded the San Francisco Animal Care and Control Department during the weekend with complaints of scary or unleashed dogs in their neighborhoods.

"People are just afraid," said Animal Control Sgt. Judy Choy. She said calls are coming in round-the-clock, compared with six to 12 calls a day before the mauling.

Neighbors of the woman killed by at least one of two dogs who live down the hall from her have said they regret not calling Animal Control to report fears of the dogs before the attack.

But Choy said animal control officers could take away a dog only if the police requested it or following a severe bite or other dangerous incident.

Diane Whipple, 33, a lacrosse coach at Saint Mary's College in Moraga, died from massive injuries after being mauled brutally for five minutes by at least one of her neighbor's dogs.

The incident occurred when Bane, a 123-pound English mastiff and Canary Island cattle dog mix, bolted from Marjorie Knoller's apartment, dragged her down the hallway and lunged for the victim's throat as she frantically tried to open her front door. Knoller's husband, Robert Noel, said their other dog, 112-pound Hera, had not been involved in the attack.

Bane was destroyed at the animal shelter Friday night. Hera remained at the shelter yesterday. Her fate is expected to be announced today after an investigation.

Animal control officers said there were no recorded complaints about the couple's two dogs, but Noel had been asked by a professional dog walker in the neighborhood to put a muzzle on his dogs after they scared her pet.

Although the Canary dog is a powerfully built animal bred for dog fighting, dog expert Carl Semencic said the breed was no more dangerous than any other dog trained to be a guardian and could make wonderful pets.

"This is not something you would expect of a Canary dog breed more than any other breed," he said. "I get calls all the time about these horrific stories, and it is always a different breed."

Big dogs are not necessarily ill-suited for urban living because they are often quieter and better guardians than small dogs, he said.

Playing with his 9-month-old son Henry in the sand, Craig Asher, 34, was horrified to learn there is nothing people can do if they fear a neighbor's dog.

"They have to wait for them to kill somebody," he said. "The fact that there is no law that you could do something about it is scary."

Meanwhile friends of the woman killed in the attack described her as a creative and inspirational coach. Whipple, who was raised in Manhasset, N.Y., helped to make lacrosse popular on the West Coast.

"She was full of energy," said Judy Massey, whose daughter was coached by Whipple at Menlo School before Whipple moved to Saint Mary's. "She had this passion for this sport, and so many girls would come out for this sport they had never heard of. It was infectious," Massey said.

SAN FRANCISCANS OUTRAGED AS THEY MOURN DOG ATTACK VICTIM;
TRAGEDY: MANY DEMAND PROSECUTION FOR OWNERS OF ANIMAL THAT MAULED WOMAN. OTHERS FEAR NEW RULES ON PETS.

The mauling death of a 33-year-old athlete, whose throat was punctured by a dog that outweighed her, pushed this city to high levels of fear and outrage Monday.

People called the district attorney's office, demanding that authorities throw the book at the couple who owned Bane--a 123-pound crossbreed who charged Diane Whipple in her apartment building hallway Friday in an attack so gruesome that police at the scene needed counseling.

Many of those calling the department of animal control wondered whether all canines of similar breed--part English mastiff, part Canary Island cattle dog--should be put to death. But they also pondered whether the dog was abused and what could have driven it to attack.

Callers to the San Francisco Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals were even more a breed apart; they feared a backlash against animal rights, worrying that landlords might become more restrictive and that leashless dogs might be banned from the Golden Gate National Recreation Area, where they are allowed to run free in some sections. The Park Service had begun considering such a prohibition before Friday.

The death of the college lacrosse coach symbolizes a particularly gruesome brand of urban nightmare. But here in San Francisco--a city named for the patron saint of fur and feather, where shelters for homeless animals are more plush than those for homeless people--not everyone is afraid of the same thing.

Even so, said Carl Friedman, San Francisco director of animal care and control, "the city is in shock" over Whipple's brutal death. Friedman's department has fielded 50 to 100 calls a day since the attack in an upscale apartment building in flossy Pacific Heights. The SPCA also has received hundreds of calls.

"I am just so sick," Friedman said. "I get sick when people hurt animals; I get sicker when animals hurt people. It's such a tragedy. There have been so many phone calls."

Whipple, who was about 5 feet 3 and 110 pounds, was putting her key in the door of her sixth-floor apartment at about 4 p.m. Friday, when two large dogs bounded toward her. Bane bit Whipple's neck; 112-pound Hera tore at her clothes. Each time the dogs' owner, Marjorie Knoller, tried to get between Bane and Whipple, the dog attacked. Bane dragged Whipple 20 feet down the hallway.

"The dogs got away from Knoller and attacked her," said Jess Crosslin, a friend of Whipple's who lived nearby and saw paramedics bring the mortally wounded woman from the building. She died at San Francisco General Hospital. "The attack went on for several minutes. She never did get away from those dogs."

Whipple's friends said the animal-loving All-America lacrosse player, nicknamed "the Whip," had been bitten by Bane before. "She hated that dog," said Cheri DiCerbo of New York, a childhood friend. DiCerbo said Whipple's roommate told her Monday about the earlier biting incident.

Whipple wasn't alone in her feelings about the dog. Cydnee Dubrof, who lived down the street from Whipple, said the strapping Bane was known as the Beast, Killer Dog and Dog of Death in the neighborhood of high-end apartment buildings overlooking the San Francisco Bay.

"The male owner would physically restrain the dog and pull him to the other side of the street or up an alley to get away from my dog when I would walk my dog," Dubrof said, adding that some local dog owners timed their walks when Bane and Hera were not strolling with their owners.

Jackie David, spokeswoman for the Los Angeles Department of Animal Services, said officers from her agency and its counterpart with the county of Los Angeles had begun to look into reports that the animals once lived in Southern California.

And, according to the Associated Press, two white supremacists serving time at Pelican Bay State Prison are now part of the investigation into Whipple's death. The inmates are being investigated for any role they might have played in organized dogfights.

Marjorie Knoller and her husband, Robert Noel, who are attorneys, have visited the two inmates in a professional capacity, prison officials said Monday. Authorities did not say whether that's where they got the dogs or whether the dogs were used in any fights.

San Francisco police have been investigating the incident, which spokesman Sherman Ackerson described as horrible. "There was blood and human hair all over the place," Ackerson said. "It was so bad officers on the scene needed psychological counseling."

Bane was put down over the weekend by lethal injection, Friedman said. Hera remains in protective custody awaiting the results of the investigation.

Fred Gardner, spokesman for Dist. Atty. Terence Hallinan, said the D.A.'s office is assigning one of its own investigators to aid in the effort. At the crux of the investigation is the thorny question of how much the dogs' owners knew about the animals' temperaments. The answer will help decide what crime, if any, Knoller and Noel are charged with. Knoller and Noel could not be reached Monday.

If the owners knew that the dogs had a propensity to fight or attack, Gardner said, they could be charged with involuntary manslaughter. They could also be charged with failure to exercise ordinary care with a dog, he said, "and if it's a felony, they could get two to four years in prison."

"The dogs were in Los Angeles at some point and were chained or abused," Gardner said. "The Noels took pity on them and wanted to save them from that fate. In the course of that, we have to find out what the reason was--were they chained because they had bitten, or were they abused?"

Angry callers to the D.A.'s office Monday were demanding stiff penalties, Gardner said. "Whenever something horrible happens, people think harsh prosecution can contain the situation. In this instance, it might. . . . It's fair to say that people are outraged."

Ed Sayres, president of the San Francisco SPCA, said the organization hoped to have its Web site updated by Wednesday with information to help animal owners find proper training for their pets.

"We're getting constant calls," Sayres said. "In San Francisco, the direction is, 'I hope this doesn't make any setbacks to the off-leash dog recreation area or the landlords being more restrictive.' People are afraid of a backlash. This is a very unusual, singular incident."

On Monday, the San Francisco Board of Supervisors unanimously approved a resolution for a letter of condolence to be sent to the Whipple family. At St. Mary's College in Moraga, where Whipple coached the women's lacrosse team, tearful friends and colleagues worked to organize an on-campus memorial service, and students continued to receive grief counseling.

The tears started Saturday morning, said Carl Clapp, director of athletics at the private Catholic college, "shock, disbelief, just a whole range of emotions, particularly for the young people. Diane was a mentor, a coach and a friend for the student athletes. They've lost somebody who's very special and important in their lives."

And at Alta Plaza, a hillside park where Knoller and Noel often walked their animals, dog owners said the incident is giving all dogs a bad name.

"Unfortunately, with 99.9% of all dogs you're not going to have that problem," said one woman who would not give her name but feared both Bane and Hera. "But you watch, here comes a bunch of new laws that penalize innocent animals: They're going to pass more restrictive leash laws and ban all big dogs from apartment buildings. It's a shame."

As a dozen dogs ran about the park without leashes, dog owner Tom Larson said the ultimate responsibility of a dog's conduct lies with the owner.

"The owners are responsible," he said. "Why would this couple keep two big dogs in a small one-bedroom apartment? Owners need to know the histories of the pets they buy, and they need to know the animal's limitation, especially in a crowded urban environment like this one."

Los Angeles Times

KILLER DOG LINKED TO RING RUN BY INMATES; ATTACK: THE BREEDING OPERATION WAS DIRECTED BY WHITE SUPREMACISTS INSIDE PELICAN BAY PRISON, AUTHORITIES SAY.

What first looked like a terrifying tragedy--young woman killed by rogue dog--has revealed an illegal guard dog-breeding operation run from behind the walls of the state's most secure prison, law enforcement officials said Tuesday.

Authorities investigating the death of Diane Whipple, 33, are on the trail of a bizarre story, complete with white supremacists, a surprise adoption and the Mexican Mafia.

The dog that killed the college lacrosse coach in her apartment hallway here was raised at the direction of two members of the Aryan Brotherhood, a white supremacist gang, who were illegally controlling a guard-dog breeding operation while incarcerated at Pelican Bay State Prison, corrections officials said.

Whipple was mauled to death Friday by Bane, a 123-pound English mastiff-Canary Island crossbreed. The dog belonged to two attorneys who had represented Paul "Cornfed" Schneider, 38, and Dale Bretches, 44, who are serving lengthy sentences for violent crimes, said Russ Heimerich, a spokesman for the California Department of Corrections.

San Francisco police are investigating whether Bane and eight other dogs were being raised at a remote Northern California farm as professional fighting dogs or guard animals for members of the Mexican Mafia, another prison gang, said San Francisco police Lt. Henry Hunter.

And in a strange twist, the attorneys acknowledged in a brief telephone interview with The Times on Tuesday that they had filed court documents in San Francisco to adopt Schneider, who is serving a life sentence without possibility of parole for attempted murder and aggravated assault while in prison.

The adoption was granted by Superior Court Judge Donna J. Hitchens on Monday, according to court documents, which say the attorneys and the inmate have "agreed to assume toward each other the relation of parent and child."

Couple Could Face Charges

The attorneys, Marjorie Knoller and Robert Noel, who owned Bane and another English mastiff-Canary Island mix named Hera, could be charged with a felony in the death of Whipple within three weeks, San Francisco Dist. Atty. Terence Hallinan said Tuesday.

Hallinan said they could be charged with responsibility for injuries caused by trained fighting dogs. They could face as much as four years in prison and a $ 10,000 fine, if convicted. Authorities would have to prove that the owners knew that Bane and Hera had a propensity for violence.

Until Noel and Knoller took custody of the animals 10 months ago, the dogs were being cared for by Janet Coumbs on her Hayfork, Calif., farm, where they had already killed more than two dozen farm animals, including a ram, sheep, chickens and a house cat, the Trinity County woman said in an interview.

Coumbs said she had unwittingly become involved in the dog operation after she began visiting Schneider at Pelican Bay as part of a Christian outreach. Coumbs said she and her 17-year-old daughter "felt like prisoners to those dogs."

Whipple died Friday after a brutal attack that has stunned this normally animal-loving city. The athlete and coach had just gotten home from her job at St. Mary's College in Moraga when Bane gripped her throat, while Hera tore at her clothing. Knoller tried to intercede to no avail.

Whipple was taken to San Francisco General Hospital, where she died several hours later. Bane was put to death over the weekend. Hera is in protective custody, awaiting a Feb. 13 hearing about her fate.

As the incident gained attention, police began receiving calls about the couple and the animals, including reports from neighbors and others alleging that Bane and Hera had attacked other animals. One of the callers was Coumbs.

Coumbs, 49, who suffers from arthritis and asthma, said she began corresponding with Schneider in 1997 after a friend suggested that she reach out to local prison inmates. She visited Schneider several times before he proposed that she begin raising the animals as a way to make extra money on her tiny farm.

Coumbs said she was instructed to contact a kennel in Chicago and select two puppies. Looking at pictures the kennel supplied her, she decided on Bane, then three months old, and a 9-month female. The dogs were later delivered to her at the Sacramento airport after she paid $ 1,200 apiece for the animals, money that she said Schneider supplied her.

Schneider soon instructed her to purchase two more females from a kennel in Ohio. "He said I could make more money by breeding the dogs," she said.

But the arrangement went sour when Coumbs stopped receiving money for the dogs' upkeep from Schneider and from a Sacramento woman, who she said also instructed her on the dogs' care. Schneider never told Coumbs to train them to attack, she said, and she did not, but "he told me not to make wusses out of them."

In debt for the dogs' care, Coumbs said, she declined to answer a letter sent by the convict. Months later, she was sued by Noel and Knoller for custody of the animals.

Lt. Ben Grundy, a spokesman for Pelican Bay, said Schneider and Bretches allegedly ran the dog-breeding operation from behind bars by writing to accomplices in code to hide the identity of those involved and the extent of the operation.

The prison investigated the operation, which Grundy described as "lucrative," between October 1999 and April 2000. At that point the research was turned over to the FBI.

According to a U.S. Department of Justice advisory that Hallinan received Tuesday, detailing the prison's investigation, an Aryan Brotherhood group at Pelican Bay had allegedly maintained a business to buy and sell fighting dogs for profit.

The Department of Justice report said the gang used associates outside the prison to raise and sell the dogs and funnel the profits back to incarcerated gang members, Hallinan said, adding that some dogs were to be sold to the Mexican Mafia.

It is illegal for inmates to operate moneymaking enterprises from inside prison. But Heimerich said the FBI found no evidence of illegal practices outside the prison involving the dog-breeding operation. As a result, charges were never filed.

Last April, Knoller and Noel got custody of all nine dogs from Coumbs and took Bane and Hera home to their one-bedroom apartment. Authorities are investigating what happened to the other seven animals.

The attorneys would not comment on the incident or the investigation.

According to Heimerich, however, the two attorneys were frequent visitors to Schneider in Pelican Bay, visits that overlapped with the dog-breeding operation. They also had represented Schneider in at least one lawsuit.

Officials Got Letters

In 1998, Knoller and Noel wrote on behalf of Schneider to a laundry list of public officials, including California Sens. Barbara Boxer and Dianne Feinstein and then-U.S. Atty. Gen. Janet Reno.

In the letter, Knoller and Noel wrote that they have represented half a dozen Pelican Bay state correctional officers charged with civil rights violations against inmates.

Two guards had been found guilty of conspiring with inmates who belonged to white supremacist groups, including the Aryan Brotherhood. The guards and inmates had conspired to set up brutal attacks against convicted child molesters and other inmates at the bottom of the prison hierarchy.

At one point in the 39-page letter, obtained by The Times, Noel and Knoller pleaded with Del Norte County and federal officials that Schneider's life was in danger because he was being forced to share a cell with another inmate.

"I strongly urge you to offer Mr. Schneider the immediate option of being single celled," Noel wrote then-warden of Pelican Bay, Robert Ayres, in March 1998. "I strongly urge you to consider an immediate transfer of Mr. Schneider to another institution for his safety."

The letter was written during a war inside the ranks of the Aryan Brotherhood, internecine violence marked by several murders. At the time, according to Noel, the Aryan Brotherhood inside Pelican Bay had splintered into at least three factions, two of which were allegedly trying to murder Schneider.

CALIFORNIA AND THE WEST; GUARD DOG OPERATION DOWNPLAYED; CORRECTIONS: OFFICIALS SAY THE ENTERPRISE LINKED TO THE MAULING DEATH OF A SAN FRANCISCO WOMAN NEVER GOT OFF THE GROUND.

State prison investigators say the dog that killed a San Francisco woman last week was part of a fledgling operation by the Aryan Brotherhood called the "Dogs of War," an enterprise to train fighting guard dogs that never got off the ground and never made the prison gang its intended profits.

They say the operation, despite its ominous title, consisted of six dogs at most, half of them eventually killed by the mixed breed Canary Island-English mastiff named Bane. This was the same powerfully built dog that mauled to death 33-year-old Diane Whipple at the door of her San Francisco apartment Friday.

Corrections investigators said Wednesday that earlier reports of the dogs being trained to guard methamphetamine labs were "pure speculation," and that whatever the prison gang intended to do with the animals, it was never able to carry out its plans.

"It was a fledgling enterprise at best, and half the dogs were eaten by Bane, according to our sources," said one corrections investigator close to the case who spoke on the condition of anonymity. "The story here is that a fine young woman was killed. All this other drama about meth labs and a big prison dog-breeding ring is made-for-TV stuff."

State corrections investigators said they began a serious investigation into the Aryan Brotherhood more than a year ago when a woman raising the dogs told them she was being threatened by the inmates. She said she was being threatened for not teaching fighting skills to Bane and a handful of similarly bred dogs shipped out from the Midwest, investigators said.

The trail then led to Pelican Bay State Prison, the remote lockup near the California-Oregon border that holds leaders of the Aryan Brotherhood, Mexican Mafia and Black Guerrilla Family in one of the most secure housing units in the country. Even so, the Aryan Brotherhood has managed to run drugs and direct murders from inside the prison, so the tip that the group had organized a fighting-dog ring was taken seriously.

That sent investigators to the cell of Paul "Cornfed" Schneider, 38, one of the most notorious inmates in California, and his fellow gang member, Dale Bretches, 44, both of whom had set up the "Dogs of War" enterprise, corrections officials said.

Schneider, who is serving a life sentence plus 11 years for stabbing a guard as well as one of his former attorneys, is a reputed U.S. Air Force-trained expert in escape and survival who boasted a "highly developed talent for weapons manufacture, use and concealment," according to a letter from one of his attorneys obtained by The Times. In addition to his prowess with knives, Schneider is an accomplished pencil and crayon artist.

At the direction of Schneider and Bretches, the dogs ended up at a remote farm belonging to Janet Coumbs of Hayfork, Calif. Coumbs, who had been visiting Schneider in prison as part of a Christian outreach effort, was enlisted by the gang members to teach the dogs to fight, corrections investigators said. But she resisted, and at some point, two associates of the gang visited her.

"They tell her to get with the program, you either teach the dogs to fight or you get your arms and legs broken," said the corrections investigator. "Coumbs is one tough lady or she apparently didn't understand who she was dealing with, because she told them she wasn't going along with the plan."

Herman Franck, a Spokane lawyer who has represented Schneider in the past, scoffed at the idea that Schneider and Bretches were running a ring to breed attack dogs.

"These guys are artists," Franck said. "They wanted to have someone raise the dogs so they could have their pictures and paint them. . . . As far as I know they were just giving the dogs away, not making any money from it."

Franck said both men love the Presa Canarios, or Canary Islands, breed of dog. They adorned their prison cells with self-made artwork of the animals. The two also produce art featuring horses and "all kinds of furry animals," said Franck, who added that in much of their work "the animals will be next to a beautiful woman."

Corrections investigators have turned their information over to San Francisco police. Detectives are trying to determine if two San Francisco lawyers--who gained ownership of Bane and a second dog that attacked Whipple--knew the animals were violent.

City detectives said they are investigating reports that the two dogs kept by attorneys Robert Noel and Marjorie Knoller were involved in a spate of attacks in recent months. A postman reported that he was bitten by one dog while delivering mail. Another mailman told police that the dogs lunged at him while being restrained by either Noel or Knoller.

"We have reports that these animals were aggressive toward people in the past, and we're following up every lead," said San Francisco Police Lt. Henry Hunter.

Hunter said police are also investigating an incident at San Francisco's Baker Beach in which Bane, which literally means death, allegedly attacked Noel.

San Francisco Dist. Atty. Terence Hallinan said Wednesday that his office is focusing on a possible prosecution of Noel and Knoller. He said authorities would have to prove that the dogs were trained to attack and that the owners were negligent.

"We are considering a variety of options right now, from a felony conviction that could bring two, three or four years, all the way to homicide," Hallinan said.

Corrections officials say the husband-and-wife lawyer team of Noel and Knoller, who shared the same apartment complex with Whipple, are well known to them. The couple, who this week took the unusual step of adopting inmate Schneider, have represented half a dozen guards on behalf of the California Correctional Peace Officers Assn. At the same time, they have represented members and relatives of the Aryan Brotherhood.

"Noel and Knoller have represented several correctional officers accused of brutality against inmates, and they've yet to win a case," said Mark Roussopoulos, a special investigator with state corrections who was once sued by Noel and Knoller in a racketeering case thrown out of court.

Noel is a former assistant U.S. attorney who handled tax and bank failure cases, and Knoller specialized in financial, banking and Securities and Exchange Commission regulatory work.

They have represented Pelican Bay officers charged with civil rights violations against inmates. Two of the officers have been found guilty of conspiring with inmates who belonged to white supremacist groups. The guards and prisoners had conspired to set up attacks against convicted child molesters and other inmates at the bottom of the prison hierarchy. A third guard accused of brutality faces federal trial this year.

Because the guards were working in concert with white prison gangs, Noel and Knoller became familiar with the operations of the Aryan Brotherhood. Out of this familiarity, corrections investigators say, friendships grew between the two attorneys and gang members. In a 39-page letter in 1998, Noel and Knoller told Del Norte County and federal officials that Schneider's life was in danger because he shared a cell with a violent inmate.

The letter was written in the midst of a war within the Aryan Brotherhood. At the time, according to Noel, the gang inside Pelican Bay had splintered into at least three factions. One of them was headed by Schneider, who claimed his life was threatened by the other two factions.

In 1994 and 1995, according to Noel's letter, Schneider had put his weapons and artistic skills to use when he managed to hide several knives inside the prison's Security Housing Unit.

Schneider had removed a metal vent cover from the law library and used the vent to craft several knives, or shanks. The missing vent was never discovered, Noel wrote, because Schneider had replaced it with a pencil and ink drawing made to look like a vent.

At some point, Schneider decided to turn over the knives. Noel said he handed over the knives to authorities in hopes of gaining a transfer to another prison. That transfer never came.

Two years ago, Schneider struck up a friendship with Coumbs, the Hayfork woman who agreed to raise the dogs.

This week in Hayfork, a hard-luck mining town deep in the woods southeast of Eureka, residents said they couldn't imagine Coumbs training fighting dogs at the behest of the Aryan Brotherhood.

"I don't think Janet knew what she was getting into when she saw those cons," said David Godfrey, a local feed store owner who has known Coumbs since she was a girl. "She wouldn't do anything to hurt anyone. She just got conned by some cons."

Visiting Schneider and Bretches at Pelican Bay was no easy feat for Coumbs. The Crescent City prison sits 180 miles on twisting mountain roads from Hayfork. Residents described Coumbs as a devoutly religious woman who was often in town with her 17-year-old daughter. She got by on welfare payments, they said, and no one could recall if she ever held a job.

Her home, a white clapboard structure surrounded by cars and a few beat-up old camper trailers, is just off the main road that winds into town. On a recent day, a pair of sheep grazed in the back and a few chickens skittered among patches of snow.

"She's a quiet person. She's always out doing fund-raisers for the church," said Angela Riggs, manager of a local coffee shop. "I would never picture her raising fighting dogs."

Coumbs was away from home Wednesday. Neighbors said the dogs were kept penned and didn't cause problems, though the muscle-bound animals were an intimidating presence.

"They were scary," said Darlene Booth, a neighbor who lives half a mile from Coumbs' house.

Her husband, Donald Booth, said the biggest dog was often kept on a chain out front. Coumbs told him about the arrangement with the Pelican Bay prisoners, he said, adding that "it seemed a little strange."

State corrections investigators say reports that members of the Mexican Mafia were part of the fighting dog ring appear to be exaggerated. They say that one Los Angeles family, whose father and son are members of the Mexican Mafia, received as a gift one of the surviving dogs raised by Coumbs.

Investigators said Bretches recently took out a strange advertisement in a magazine for breeders of the Presa Canario dogs. The inmate had penned an elaborate drawing of Bane, with exposed fangs and in full snarl. He offered to draw a similar portrait for other dog owners and asked that they send photos to the Security Housing Unit at Pelican Bay.

"It was a very accurate and frightening drawing," said the investigator. "It looked like a killer dog."

Was fatal dog attack a deliberate act on the part of their owners?
By Ed Walsh

LOS ANGELES -- Jurors in the Diane Whipple dog-mauling case so disliked and discredited defendants Marjorie Knoller and Robert Noel that some speculated that Knoller may have actually purposefully had her dogs attack Whipple, Bay Windows has learned.

Jury foreman Don Newton told Bay Windows that jurors didn't buy Knoller's version of what happened during the January 26, 2001, hallway attack on Whipple, her neighbor in San Francisco's upscale Pacific Heights neighborhood. He said they were left to only guess about what happened.

``It could be that the dogs escaped out of her apartment," said Newton. ``Some of the jurors even suggested she engineered the attack on Diane Whipple.

``But how can we know that? We can't know that," Newton cautioned.

In her first interview since her participation in a brief press conference after the guilty verdicts were announced, juror Vanessa Caroline echoed Newton, telling Bay Windows that Knoller ordering the dogs to go after Whipple was one of the scenarios jurors talked about.

``We were discussing that maybe Diane was very scared and she may have said `Oh my God, put your dogs away.' They may even have had words, and maybe one thing led to another, and that [siccing the dogs on Whipple] was one of them."

Like Newton, Caroline didn't find Knoller credible.

``There were so many gaps in her testimony," she explained. ``It was just unbelievable. We were left wanting to ask Marjorie, `Please, just tell us what happened.'"

Jurors gave prosecutors a clean sweep, convicting the attorney couple of all five of the charges they faced. Knoller, 46, was convicted of second-degree murder. Both Knoller and Noel, 60, were convicted of involuntary manslaughter and keeping a mischievous animal that killed a person. Noel was not charged with murder because he wasn't with the dogs when the deadly attack occurred. Jurors agreed with the prosecution's main argument that the couple had ample warning the dogs were dangerous but did virtually nothing to mitigate the danger.

``They over and over showed contempt for people's opinions," said Newton. ``They disregarded warnings. They never apologized and they were highly arrogant."

Newton noted that jurors were unsympathetic to Knoller even when she cried on the stand because they believed it was all set up. Newton, a 64-year-old sewage treatment equipment repairman for the City of Los Angeles, told Bay Windows that jurors also were doubtful of a photograph taken by Noel days after the attack that showed Knoller with a black eye. Knoller's lawyer said she got the injury in a life-and-death struggle to get her dogs away from Whipple.

Said Newton: ``And [jurors] were saying, `What the hell? [Noel] gave her the black eye!' And then one lady said, `Well, Diane Whipple hit that bitch in the eye!'

``But that was speculation, that was just people talking," Newton cautioned.

Newton and Caroline told Bay Windows that Knoller's flamboyant defense attorney, Nedra Ruiz, did not help in her closing statement by accusing the prosecution of hiding evidence to curry favor with the gay community.

When asked what he thought of Ruiz's strategy Newton said: ``Well perhaps she misjudges the average person in Los Angeles. She maybe thought she was going to get some people on the jury to be unsympathetic to the prosecution because they were trying to prosecute the case of a gay woman who was killed. It certainly didn't affect the jury in our sense of what had gone wrong.

``I imagine that in the jury there were different points of view but there wasn't anybody at any time who expressed any hesitation to convict Marjorie Knoller because she had killed someone who is gay," added Newton.

When asked about Ruiz bringing up the gay issue, Caroline said: ``That was wrong. That was so uncalled-for. I couldn't believe she said that. She thought maybe that some people would look down on the prosecution."

Ruiz suggested that prosecutors were hiding evidence of Knoller's torn sweatshirt sleeve that was found mixed up in the hallway with Whipple's torn clothes. That evidence bolsters Ruiz's claim that Knoller heroically fought off her two Presa Canario dogs to help save Whipple's life. Lead prosecutor Jim Hammer insisted that contrary to Ruiz's claim, he stipulated to the evidence, allowing it to be brought in without challenge.

Newton said the evidence of Knoller's shirtsleeve didn't hold much weight with him. ``It's possible that one of the dogs, as she was trying to get it back in the apartment, chewed up the sleeve of her sweater, sure," said Newton. ``It doesn't necessarily at all imply she was lying on top of Diane Whipple trying to protect her. Certainly there weren't any bite marks around her wrist where it was chewed off.

``There wasn't any reason to believe Marjorie with all the contradictions in her story," Newton added.

The foreman said he was appalled by Ruiz asking Whipple's partner, Sharon Smith, whether Smith considered whether Whipple would still be alive if she filed a complaint about the dogs being dangerous.

``Nobody wanted to hear anyone say that," said Newton. ``This was a person without shame. She was just totally throwing herself on the tracks in order to stop the train. None of the jury was sympathetic to her at all. They felt that was entirely inappropriate and wrong."

Said Caroline: ``It was very unnecessary to blame someone who is grieving a loss like that."

Said Newton: ``She was desperate because she had a really poor case and she made the mistake of putting Marjorie Knoller up there to contradict herself. She was just trying to figure out any type of smokescreen technique to get Marjorie off."

Caroline, 19, said that although jurors were turned off by Knoller and Noel's personalities, they went on the evidence.

``And the evidence pointed that they were guilty," she said. ``We tried not to think of their personality as we deliberated."

Newton said the key concept for jurors was that of ``implied malice."

``There wasn't any malice with the intent to kill but there was with the disregard for human life," the jury foreman said.

On Wednesday, March 20, jurors announced that they reached verdicts on 4 of the 5 counts against the attorney couple. Newton and Caroline said although the panel was leaning toward convicting on the fifth charge, that of second-degree murder for Knoller, they decided it would be best to break for the day on Wednesday and sleep on it overnight. When they returned for deliberations Thursday morning, they decided to go ahead with convictions on all five counts.

The verdicts were announced a little after 1:30 p.m. on Thursday. Noel showed no reaction but Knoller gasped when it was announced that she was guilty of second-degree murder. Knoller later turned to her parents and appeared to mouth ``help" to them through the glass partition that separates the courtroom and spectators.

After most spectators, including her parents, filed out of court, Knoller turned to this reporter whom she knew from several jailhouse interviews over the past year of her incarceration and appeared again to mouth the word ``help." Outside court, Smith told reporters that although she was pleased with the verdicts, there could be no joy in it for her because of the loss of Whipple, her partner of 7 years.

Sentencing is scheduled for May 10 in San Francisco. The trial was held in Los Angeles because of the extensive pretrial publicity in the Bay Area.

Knoller faces 15-years-to-life in state prison. Noel faces a four year sentence. The couple plan to appeal.

Such lurid details are the reason people buy books like this. So rest assured that in Red Zone you will learn that prisoner Schneider was adept at hiding weapons in his within him. That when Field & Stream was banned from Pelican Bay penitentiary because of its gun photos, Schneider — who enjoyed drawing animals — had to find inspiration in other magazines, and dark was the day he discovered Dog Fancy. That Schneider, Noel, and Knoller imagined themselves as heroes in some sort of twisted Arthurian-Gothic-Celtic-Aryan Brotherhood romance, with the dogs in supporting roles. And that dumpy Marjorie was in the habit of mailing Schneider snapshots of herself naked or in a black corset and blonde wig.

Knoller and Noel were keeping the two massive dogs for Paul Schneider, a life inmate and member of the Aryan Brotherhood prison gang who bred and sold the Presa Canarios using people outside the prison. The couple later adopted Schneider, then 39 years old. And Mrs. Knoller was having sex with him on prison visits.

SURGEONS WORKED

A STRUGGLE

TRANQUILIZERS USED

Why the jury voted guilty