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A member of the Heartless Felons is accused of threatening Cuyahoga County Common Pleas Judge Michael Astrab. In 2013, the judge had sentenced the accused, William Hammons, to life in prison, plus 100 years, for the rape, robbery and slaying of a Shaker Heights woman.

(Marvin Fong/The Plain Dealer)

William Hammons

CLEVELAND, Ohio - William Hammons went from victim to vicious predator.

As a boy, he was sexually abused, beaten and neglected by relatives. At 20, he raped, robbed and strangled Sharon Anderson-Norfus of Shaker Heights in a brutal attack at her apartment in May 2012.

Last week, Hammons, 23, was charged again. This time, he was accused of threatening to kill the man who put him in prison for Anderson-Norfus' slaying, Cuyahoga County Common Pleas Judge Michael Astrab. The judge had sentenced Hammons to life in prison, plus 100 years.

The threats, in the form of a letter, came during the trial of Julius Webster, a leader of the Heartless Felons. Hammons also is a member of the gang, which has sought to control Cleveland streets and state prisons, authorities said.

Webster, 29, was convicted Feb. 9 of murder, attempted tampering with evidence, several gang-related charges and two counts of aggravated robbery. Astrab, who presided over Webster's trial, is expected to sentence him March 10. Webster faces life in prison.

Social science researchers say Hammons illustrates a long-studied trend that abused children are far more likely to become criminally violent as they grow older, according to reports by the National Institute of Justice, a part of the U.S. Justice Department.

But researchers say that not all victims grow up to become killers or violent offenders, mainly because of therapy and intervention. They also stress that being a victim of a crime is hardly a defense for a murder charge.

"People who suffer from maltreatment as children are more likely to have an array of problems later in life, such as physical and mental, and yes, a history of violence,'' said Karen Oehme, the director of the Institute for Family Violence Studies at Florida State University.

"But this in no way excuses the actions of an adult who commits a crime. This was a tragedy.''

Hammons' former defense lawyers said their client's life was a chaotic disaster that lacked even the most basic forms of structure.

"The short life history of William Hammons is not pretty,'' wrote defense attorneys William McGinty and Charles Morgan in a court document in 2013 asking for leniency in Astrab's sentencing of Hammons for Anderson-Norfus' slaying.

"Rather, it is a life of physical and sexual abuse, neglect by his caregivers to the basic necessities of life, abandonment and the total absence of love.''

The document indicates that Hammons' mother, an alcoholic and drug addict, raised him until the age of 6. A cousin sexually abused him as a young child, the attorneys said in the court filing. When the boy was 12, a relative beat him with an extension cord.

A nurse who treated the youth after the beating called it "the worst case of abuse'' she had seen in a long time, according to the defense attorneys' filing.

Records show Hammons spent time in the juvenile system for assault and robbery and slid quickly into Common Pleas Court. In 2011, at 19, he was sentenced to a year in the Lorain Correctional Institution for his role in a robbery in Maple Heights involving an electronic device.

Months after his release, in the early morning hours of May 4, he broke into the apartment of Anderson-Norfus, 60, a makeup artist at Saks Fifth Avenue in Beachwood.

Once inside her apartment, Hammons beat, raped and strangled her, prosecutors said. He then stole her cellphone, keys and electronic key to get into her apartment building.

Prosecutors said Hammons' grandmother lived in Anderson-Norfus' apartment complex. The complex's video surveillance system shows Hammons entering and exiting the building, after the murder, while using Anderson-Norfus' electronic key, prosecutors said. His DNA was found in the carpet of the apartment, according to prosecutors.

They said that hours after the slaying, Hammons searched Google on his cellphone, seeking "how long for a body to decompose.''

"(Hammons) has posed a danger to the public since 2007, graduating from minor offenses to murder and rape. The public needs to be protected from (him),'' wrote Mahmoud Awadallah, an assistant county prosecutor.

Hammons pleaded guilty to aggravated murder, rape, aggravated burglary, aggravated robbery, misuse of credit cards and tampering with evidence involving Anderson-Norfus.

Less than two years into his prison sentence for the slaying, Hammons is accused of writing to Astrab and threatening to kill him and his family, according to an indictment unsealed last week. He had been serving his sentence in a prison in Lucasville.

"It was a credible threat,'' said Joseph Frolik, a spokesman for Prosecutor Timothy J. McGinty's office. "It was a gruesome threat. He mentioned he had associates who would carry it out.''

Hammons is charged with intimidation, retaliation and three counts of aggravated menacing. Despite receiving the threats, Astrab presided over the trial of Webster, Hammons' fellow gang member in the Heartless Felons. Authorities have yet to specify how the letter was sent or where Astrab received it.

Astrab declined to comment.

If convicted of the new charges, Hammons faces less than 10 years in prison. So why would prosecutors go through the trouble of charging a man who already is facing life in prison, plus 100 years?

They cite the seriousness of the charges, as well as the fact that they refuse to allow anyone to think he or she can intimidate a court official.

It is unclear whether Hammons and Webster were close friends or whether they had ever served time together in prison.

Hammons has yet to be assigned a lawyer in the case. His first hearing in the new case is expected in the next few weeks. That means he will face another judge in another courtroom in a young life filled with them.