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Stabbing suspect turns himself in

With help from his employer, the 39-year-old man sought in the Ybor City slaying is in custody Saturday.

By S.I. ROSENBAUM
Published June 26, 2005

Michael Pyne's sister called his boss at 10 p.m. Friday.

"Come get him, she told Russell Ramsey. "He's asleep. Come now."

So Ramsey, his wife and a buddy piled into a Grand Prix and left Pinellas Park, heading for the Orlando area.

It would be 3 a.m. Saturday before they picked up Michael John Pyne, 39, Ramsey's employee of three weeks, and delivered him to Tampa police and a charge of first-degree murder.

It would be one of the longest nights any of them had ever had.

"I never went and picked up a murderer and took him to the police before, but there's a first time for everything," Ramsey said later.

On Thursday night, Thomas Laskas, 29, was stabbed to death at the Masquerade, an Ybor City club.

His wife, Wendy Laskas, 30, a friend, Nicholas Stegall, 20, and a bartender named Dallas Ashe were all also injured in the fracas.

Stegall said the fight started when Wendy Laskas and a friend accidentally knocked into a man in the dance pit. It seemed nothing would come of the incident until the man's girlfriend picked a fight, Stegall said.

Then the man jumped in, punching and stabbing.

The assailant escaped. But the police had one vital lead: The man had given Wendy Laskas his business card earlier in the evening.

The card led police to Rat-a-Tac-Tat, a Dunedin tattoo parlor. Ramsey, the owner, met them at the door of his home at 2 a.m. Friday.

Ramsey, 44, told the police that his only employee, Michael Pyne, had gone to the concert at the Masquerade on Thursday night. He'd been talking about going all week.

And yes, Ramsey told the police, Michael Pyne usually carried a knife.

In Kissimmee, Faith Pyne woke to banging on her door early Friday morning.

She opened it to see her little brother, Michael. He hugged her. She knew then that something was terribly wrong.

Michael was crying.

She couldn't remember the last time she's seen him cry. He hadn't even cried at his father's funeral, when he was 16.

"I didn't think he knew how," she said.

She tried to make him eat, but he only got down a few bites before vomiting.

"Monica was in a fight," he told her.

Monica Pennucci, 37, was Pyne's girlfriend of more than 12 years. Michael told his sister that they had been at a club when the fight started. He remembered seeing Pennucci on the floor, with men holding her down. He remembered pulling other people off her.

That was all he remembered, he told his sister.

"He said, "I think something bad happened. I don't know."'

She stayed awake with him all night.

In Pinellas Park on Friday, the police kept calling Ramsey, asking if he had heard from Pyne. Ramsey told them Pyne called that morning to say he was hung over and wasn't coming in to work.

He had said nothing to Pyne about the police. "I'll see you later," he told Pyne.

He felt like he was in the middle of something he'd never wanted to be part of, "the world's worst . . . mess," he said.

He had hired Pyne only three weeks before. Ramsey said he checked Pyne out before hiring him and knew the younger tattoo artist had a lengthy criminal record.

Records show that Pyne served 13 months for drug charges and being a felon with a concealed weapon and ammunition. He served time in 1995 for battery on a law enforcement officer. In 1992 he was sentenced to prison in another state for burglary and aggravated battery with intended harm.

None of that bothered Ramsey. "Everybody's entitled to a second or third chance."

In the weeks that followed, the two of them spent a lot of time together in the tattoo shop. Pyne told Ramsey about his childhood, about his father's early death.

"I was a big brother to him, or maybe a father figure," Ramsey said.

Now, he said, he would have to use Pyne's trust to get him to go to the police.

"I felt I needed to do this for the people who got hurt," Ramsey said.

"I have to try to put some good in this somehow."

It was 6 p.m. Friday before Pyne called Ramsey again.

He was crying on the phone, Ramsey said. "They could give me a life sentence behind this," Pyne told Ramsey.

"I said, "Mike, you need to let me come and get you. This officer's promised me that if I bring you to them, they won't hurt you, they won't do nothing to you. There's two sides to every story. They want to hear your side.' "

He told Pyne that if he ran they'd catch him, and whoever he was with would suffer, too. Pyne said he'd think about it.

An hour went by. Ramsey called Pyne back.

This time, Pyne said he would turn himself in, but not right away.

"He tells me, "Russell, I haven't seen my dad's grave in 20 years. Before I go in, I want to see my dad's grave probably for the last time.' "

They hung up. When the phone rang again, it was Faith Pyne, telling Ramsey to come for her brother.

When Ramsey got to Faith Pyne's home, she met them outside, weeping. Then she went inside to get her brother.

"Once he walked out that front door, I didn't know when I was going to see him again," she said.

At the car, Ramsey hugged Pyne. "He was shaking like a leaf," Ramsey recalled.

Before they got in the car, he asked Pyne if he had any knives.

Pyne said no.

Pyne hugged his sister goodbye.

"I hope I don't cause you any trouble," he told her.

"You're my brother," she said.

On the ride back, Pyne was mostly silent. Ramsey's buddy made a joke about a movie. Pyne did not laugh.

When they hit Interstate 275, Ramsey called the police on his cell phone. Officers guided him off the highway into downtown Tampa, where Ramsey got lost. Finally the detective asked him to describe the surroundings.

"Wait there," the detective said. "We'll come get you."

Michael J. Pyne was charged with first-degree murder, attempted first-degree murder, two counts of aggravated battery with a knife, and two counts of aggravated assault with a knife.

Saturday, victim Nicholas Stegall said that Wendy Laskas was recovering from her wounds; family and friends are looking after her 13-year-old daughter, Thomas Laskas' stepdaughter.

In a few days, Stegall said, Wendy Laskas will have to think about arrangements for her husband's funeral.

Stegall said it was a relief to hear of Pyne's arrest.

"It felt good to know he's not still running around," he said.

But he added, "It's not bringing Tommy back."

[Last modified June 26, 2005, 00:33:18]