But if Tom Wales was a swell guy, someone still hated him enough to want him killed. And what could be more ironic than to do it with a gun? Suspicion would naturally fall on the gun-rights crowd, to whom Wales seemed to be the Antichrist. Wales had worked for 10 years raising money and drafting legislation to control gun use, and he had been modestly successful. His most controversial crusade was a 1997 state ballot initiative to require trigger locks for gun owners and background checks for gun buyers. CeaseFire ultimately was outgunned. The National Rifle Association—which Wales called an anarchist institution—sent Charlton Heston to drum up opposition with some Moses-like sermons about the "evil . . . devilish" initiative and poured more than $2 million into a derailing effort. It worked. But Wales and CeaseFire pushed on. A year later, the group formed the only state-level political action committee in the U.S. devoted to backing candidates based on their views of gun legislation. CeaseFire also began pushing controversial legislation to require criminal and mental-health background checks for gun buyers at state gun shows. Gun lovers were not happy. And wouldn't their lot improve if, say, late on a frosty night in Seattle, Tom Wales went away?
Never happened, insists Alan Gottlieb. "I know of nobody in the gun-rights movement who would want to harm him. There was no reason," says Gottlieb, who represents 1 million international gun owners as head of the Second Amendment Foundation. Gottlieb, who made millions as a direct-mail-campaign guru for right-wing causes, is not fainthearted about speaking ill of the dead. He shared many a dyspeptic lunch and dinner with Wales, he said, trying to hammer out agreements on gun legislation or debating gun-rights issues. "Bull in a china shop," is one of his kinder assessments of Wales. "He'd lose his temper, not just with people on my side but his own side—people who wanted to take a more reasonable approach. I regret he's not around, in part because he was perfect to have as an opponent. He was an easy debate target."
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That sentiment is shared by other Wales detractors such as Michael Brown, an optometrist and member of Doctors for Sensible Gun Laws, which believes guns are used more often to prevent crime than to commit it (Wales' ambush excepted). In an article printed in several conservative publications after Wales' death, Brown—who didn't respond to interview requests—wrote that, while the prosecutor was likely a caring human being in his private life, "his personality changed when he joined in the emotion-laden gun debate. Those who stood on the opposite side of the issue recall a controversial and polarizing individual . . . hysterical at a public debate, bouncing red-faced in his chair and trying to antagonize his opponents with sneering, insulting statements he knew to be false."
That sounds like bad blood all around. Isn't that what leads to murder? Aha, says Gottlieb, that's what someone wants you to think. "After he lost the [gun-lock] initiative, Wales dropped out of sight. There hasn't been a flash-point issue since. So if you make a martyr out of him, you're only helping his cause, not the gun-rights cause. I think he was killed by someone who supports gun control and needed a martyr. Look, it certainly didn't sound like an experienced gun user— I understand they recovered shell casings at the scene. Someone who knew firearms wouldn't have used a revolver that would expel shells, leaving them and maybe even fingerprints behind." The shooter also did not kill Wales instantly; he died from mortal wounds three hours later. "That was no marksman," said Gottlieb.
The murder of Tom Wales has raised CeaseFire's public profile and brought in more than $500,000 in contributions. CeaseFire predicts the Wales fund could eventually reach $2 million, his death raising far more money than Wales did alive. The money, given through one of two endowment funds set up in Wales' name, will also help nonprofit CeaseFire pursue more gun-control legislation. In that regard, Wales' death—if by a gun nut—did nothing but long-term damage to the pro-gun movement. As for the theory that he was slain by a supporter, could someone really love Tom Wales' cause enough to kill Tom Wales for it?
CeaseFire's ex-leader Gryniewski awaits a more rational explanation from investigators—perhaps that it was the work of a vengeful and opportunistic defendant from one of Wales' prosecutions. Gryniewski thinks the $1 million reward will ultimately bust the case open. "No one's giving up," he says, "because we know Tom wouldn't."
randerson@seattleweekly.com 
