Murder on Montana Ave.

Becerril came to campus every few months to relay new opportunities to teachers who were already investing their retirement accounts with his Huntington Beach firm, AP Financial Group, and to recruit new clients. Becerril convinced educators of his expertise with the 403(b) — a retirement account used by public schools — telling teachers such as Merman that he could get them a higher return.

In the past year, some $111.6 million was contributed to retirement accounts by 22,800 LAUSD employees. This huge pot of money has been a draw for financial-products salesmen who circle the schools like birds of prey, ready to pick off a percentage commission from the transfer of accounts.

PHOTO BY SIMONE PAZ

Merman's body was found in a second-floor corner unit of the Five Twenty.

PHOTO BY SIMONE PAZ

Sofia Merman, fearful for her son's safety in Moscow, immigrated to L.A.

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More About

• Sofia Merman
• Sasha Merman
• Daniel Becerril
• New York Crime
• Murder and Homicide

David Bonneau, who worked at LAUSD's Andrew Carnegie Middle School in Carson, clearly remembers being approached by just such a salesman — Daniel Becerril, in fact — seven years ago. "A principal — two principals ago — brought him to the school, basically to introduce him to promote his financial products," Bonneau says. "He brought him to a faculty meeting, gave him some time to speak. So I transferred my former accounts over to him."

In February, United Teachers Los Angeles treasurer Arlene Inouye, writing in the union newsletter, warned teachers about trusting the non-vetted investment advisers who freely roam teachers' lounges, seeking the retirement funds of educators.

Headlined, "Beware of the 403(b) Pizza Peddlers," the article warns: "It's sad that, for free sandwiches or pizza during lunch at our schools, we as LAUSD educators often are encouraged to invest in certain 403(b) products. ... I know how easy it is for us to be swayed by experienced and persuasive salespeople because it has happened to me. Being on the school site attaches false cache [sic] and credibility to the sales reps' information and product offerings."

The year Merman was murdered, UTLA stopped endorsing 403(b) vendors. Last year, LAUSD issued a bulletin officially banning 403(b) salespeople from campuses.

But both of these official acts are largely empty gestures. All a salesman needs is a friendly relationship with a campus administrator to gain an audience with L.A. teachers. Were he not behind bars in Men's Central Jail, Daniel Becerril could as easily walk on campus today as he did years ago.

Sasha Merman wasn't a rich man, and he might never have sought out a financial adviser. But by chance, of the city's 660 schools, Becerril walked into his and gave a persuasive pitch about squeezing a better return out of Merman's 403(b). Authorities say this was one of several games Becerril and his firm ran. AP Financial Group also claimed expertise in life insurance, annuities, estate planning, credit repair, bankruptcy and home-loan modifications.

After teachers and other LAUSD employees moved their accounts to his firm, and he took a cut from the transfer, Becerril would pressure teachers to invest their own money in higher-risk propositions, such as distressed properties in Texas or Florida, or viaticals — a legal but somewhat discomfiting bet hedged on life insurance polices of the elderly or infirm. For those who didn't have cash, Becerril's firm was ready to help them take equity out of their homes.

Merman was sitting on just the kind of gold mine Becerril liked to sniff out. His uncle had bought the Montana Avenue condo in 1991 for $229,000. When he inherited it, it was worth nearly triple that, $650,000, and it was completely paid off.

Becerril, a bright guy with a confidence-inspiring handshake, was four years younger than Merman but took him under his wing like an older brother. It was 2006, the height of the housing bubble insanity that gripped Los Angeles, when Becerril advised Merman how to take the money out of the condo: Merman would borrow $250,000 against the condo and lend it to Becerril, who would invest it and within six months would return it to him — plus a $50,000 profit. Becerril would even make monthly loan repayments to Merman during the six months.

The entire deal was done on a handshake. There was no contract. By this time, they were good friends. Merman's mother says she and her son attended Becerril's wedding. Another ex-girlfriend, Lara Elliott, remembers Sasha visiting the Becerrils in the hospital for the birth of their child. On one page of Merman's journal, among little poems, song lyrics and notes, is a list of people to buy gifts for.

Merman's mother is at the top of the gift list. A few lines below her name is Becerril's.

"He was a Scorpio, if you understand," Elliott says of Merman in a thick Russian accent. "My brother and my father are Scorpios. They are very passionate people in friendship, and that is one of the reasons he trusted that guy so much — not even because he wanted to do something with the money.

"The money issue for him was important but not above all — the friendship, the family, the mother, of course, he loved so much — this was above everything. For friends, he would go miles."

That's what people agree upon as they look back on the tragedy that followed. It wasn't that Merman didn't care about the money, but the very point of having money was to help out his friends.