At 11:13 a.m. on Friday, a dimmed version of the once hot, hot, hot Luigi Mangione appeared in Manhattan federal court wearing a tan prison outfit and a white, long-sleeved undershirt.
The 28-year-old had gained weight during the 20 months he has been remanded to Brooklyn’s Metropolitan Correctional Center on charges of stalking a health insurance executive with intent to kill him. He lost some of the youth-in-bloom shine that had set his fans aflutter. His once clean-shaven face was stubbled.
The heartthrob was starting to look like a convict as he prepared to plead guilty on Friday morning.
Mangione sat down at the defense table with his husband-and-wife legal team, Marc Agnifilo and Karen Friedman Agnifilo. Three minutes later, an open hand slapped loudly on a courtroom door to announce the entry of U.S. District Court Judge Margaret Garnett.
“All rise,” a clerk called out. “Case 25-cr-176.”
Mangione had been arrested for killing United Healthcare CEO Brian Thompson in December of 2024, the last year of the Biden era. But the 25 in the case number signaled that he had been federally indicted in the first year of President Trump’s return to office.
Trump’s previous attorney general, Pam Bondi, had called for the death penalty. Mangione’s lawyers managed to get the courts to toss that.
The Agnifilos appear to have an almost parental affection for their client, and they can take comfort in maybe having saved his life. Friday’s hearing took place in Courtroom 110 of the Thurgood Marshall United States Courthouse—the very same courtroom where Trump’s future mentor, Roy Cohn, was on the prosecution team that sought and secured death sentences against accused Russian spies Ethel and Julius Rosenberg in 1951.
But Mangione still faced charges of stalking across state lines with intent to kill. The evidence against him was so strong that his only hope for an acquittal seemed to be a hung jury, with at least one of the 12 feeling that homicide was a legitimate response to the unconscionable greed of the health insurance industry.
But jurors tend to adhere to the law even when it comes to greedsters. And those in attendance at a possible Mangione trial would almost certainly include the same people who filled the first spectator row in Courtroom 110 on Friday.
“Mr. Thompson’s family is here in the courtroom today,” Assistant U.S. Attorney Dominic Gentile told the judge.
Mangione did not look over to where Thompson’s mother sat with his brother and widow, Paulette Thompson, who had been dabbing tears from her eyes with a white tissue. The judge instructed Mangione to raise his right hand and asked if he swore to tell the truth. He leaned into a microphone set before him and spoke in a clear, even voice.
“I do.”
He replied in the same tone as the judge asked him a standard series of questions intended to establish that he was competent and understood the consequences of a guilty plea. He said he had a master’s degree from the University of Pennsylvania. He affirmed he understood he was losing the right to vote and to own a firearm. He said he was not under the care of a physician or a mental health professional.
He paused only when he was asked if he had taken drugs or drunk alcohol in recent days. He then reported that he had taken sleep medication the night before, a rare indication that he was daunted by the prospect of losing his freedom for decades at a minimum.
The judge told Mangione he faced a maximum sentence of life in prison. She said there had been no plea deal, but the government had submitted a letter suggesting a range between 265 and 292 months, which could see him freed when he is 52. She asked Mangione if he was ready to enter a plea.
“Yes,” he said.
She asked how he pleaded
“Guilty,” he said.
Mangione read a statement that served as both a dispassionate allocution and an attempt to explain his crimes.
He told the court he had encountered the health insurance industry firsthand while suffering serious back pain. He had read online that United Healthcare was holding an investment conference in New York, and he emailed the company to learn the particulars. He said he had posed as an investor with $50 billion in assets under management.
“Unlike my previous interactions with insurers, I received an immediate response within an hour,” he told the judge.
He may have lost some of his shine. But he took an opportunity to make clear that his convictions still held.
He said he used a 3D printer to make a pistol and added a silencer. He stalked Thompson to the Midtown Manhattan hotel where the meeting was to be held.
“I shot Mr. Thompson in Manhattan,” he said. “I understood that my actions would place him in fear of death or bodily injury. I knew what I was doing was illegal.”
Mangione’s tone remained neutral. He did not sound contrite. But he also did not smile, as he has during other proceedings.
At one point in the hearing, the prosecutor said that video showed Mangione had first shot Thompson in the back, then in the chest when he turned.
At the hearing’s end, the marshals did not handcuff Mangione before he exited the courtroom. But, in a reflex to match his pallor, he is accustomed enough to incarceration that he placed his hands behind his back on his own.
He also faced a state murder charge that could bring a sentence of 25 years to life, though his attorneys filed court papers on Friday seeking to have it dismissed, arguing it constitutes double jeopardy.
The sentencing in the federal case is set for Dec. 18, two years and 14 days after a killing that turned Mangione into a kind of folk hero among some young Americans. But that seems to have had little to do with the health insurance industry, where unconscionable greed still rules.
