In the two years after Harry and Maria Karvounis separated, she charged that her husband grabbed her, choked her, tried to run her down with a car and held a gun to her head. Finally, one July evening in 1987, Karvounis came to his wife's house and pumped two slugs into her live-in lover.

Convicted of attempted second-degree murder and a handgun violation, Karvounis faced up to 50 years in prison for his crime. Instead, he served just 18 months.

For his extraordinarily light sentence, he got some extraordinary help:

His wife refused to testify against him.

His victim, to whom he paid $25,000 in cash before the trial, pleaded for leniency for him at sentencing.

His character witness asked the judge to go easy on him, invoking the name of a gubernatorial crony.

His trial judge volunteered to ask the governor to commute a mandatory minimum five-year sentence for a handgun violation.

And Gov. William Donald Schaefer, in a rare act of executive clemency, agreed to do so.

One of 289 criminals sent to prison in 1989 under the mandatory sentencing law for using a handgun in a violent crime, Harry Karvounis was the only one whose sentence was commuted. He was the only inmate who had a judge appealing for his freedom. He was the only one whose well-connected friends orchestrated a letter-writing campaign.

His relatively short passage through the criminal justice system is a tale of lucky breaks and unlikely events. Harry Karvounis' story is about the subjective nature of justice, about how he won mercy in a system required to dispense punishment.

Mr. Schaefer, in a recent interview, said that the recommendation of Baltimore County Circuit Judge Joseph F. Murphy Jr. -- along with what he described as "tremendous pressure" on Karvounis' behalf from Baltimore's Greek community -- convinced him to commute the sentence last year.

"I remember Judge Murphy saying at the time that if he had had the authority he would've . . . commuted him himself, and [that was] the first time any judge had made such a very, very strong plea on behalf of anyone," Mr. Schaefer said. "He thought there was a great injustice done."

In addition, there was "a tremendous push by people about [Karvounis'] background," the governor said. "The father and mother were actually grieving, to the point almost of death."

Until February of this year, when Mr. Schaefer freed eight women prisoners described as victims of "battered spouse syndrome," he has shown little interest in the early release of prisoners. Since the controversy over the freeing of those women, The Sun has examined Mr. Schaefer's other commutations.

Aside from the annual Christmas releases -- a near-perfunctory display of clemency for convicts with little time left to serve -- Mr. Schaefer has commuted the sentences of just three inmates. One was brain-dead from a head injury; another remade herself into a model citizen after escaping from custody.

The third inmate was Harry Nicholas Karvounis, a 45-year-old restaurant owner.

To the prosecutor in the case, Karvounis was undeserving of the governor's mercy.

"This case is in no way different from the myriad of other violent assaults that occur annually where, out of jealous motive, a scorned lover seeks revenge," Philip S. Jackson, a Baltimore County assistant state's attorney, wrote the governor, opposing the commutation. "The defendant in this case is remarkable only for the degree of violence he brought to the affray and his lack of candor from the stand."

"I just shot someone"

Harry Karvounis knocked on the door of Maria's home in Sparks just before 9 p.m. on July 25, 1987, saying he wanted to speak with her and Peter W. Ireland Sr., who had been living with her and her three sons.

Mrs. Karvounis let him in, and the three began talking while they drank in the living room. After Mr. Ireland left the room, Karvounis stood up, pulled out a .38-caliber pistol and told Maria in Greek not to make a sound, according to police reports and testimony.

When Mr. Ireland returned to the room and sat down, Mrs. Karvounis stood up between them as Karvounis pointed the gun over her shoulder and fired a shot into her boyfriend's right thigh. The two men struggled, and Karvounis held the gun to Mr. Ireland's forehead and pulled the trigger. Mr. Ireland heard the click of a misfire, according to police reports and testimony.

Karvounis shot Mr. Ireland again, this time in the left shoulder. He fired once more, but the bullet went into the floor.

Mr. Ireland wrestled the gun away from Karvounis, who ran out the front door. Mr. Ireland staggered down the front steps, fired a shot and collapsed. Karvounis fled in his car.

About 45 minutes later, Karvounis pulled into a Shell station on York Road in Cockeysville and announced to two attendants, "I just shot someone. I'm not going to hurt you."

He surrendered to police officers soon after and was charged with trying to kill Mr. Ireland. A few hours later, he was free on $75,000 bail.

That night capped nearly two years of trouble between Karvounis and his wife. The domestic tumult shattered what had been in many ways an American success story.

Harry Karvounis came to the United States as a boy, the son of Greek immigrants who worked at a hot dog stand in Broadway Market. As a teen-ager, he worked with them in the Broadway and Belair markets before branching out on his own.

He started the Sandwich King stand in Lexington Market and later bought the Fox Ridge Restaurant and Lounge in Hillendale.

Maria, whom he married in Greece and brought to America in 1967, worked with him in his businesses for nearly 20 years. But by the mid-1980s, friction between them was causing problems at home and work.

When she threatened to leave, he told her that life was "not worth living" and that he would kill them both, according to court records. But she went ahead with the separation, filing for divorce in December 1985.

Between June 1986 and October 1987, Mrs. Karvounis called Baltimore County police about her husband five times, including one occasion two days before he shot Mr. Ireland, and once afterward, when he was free on bail.

During that time, Karvounis allegedly tried to choke his wife twice and run her down with a car, police and court records show. He chased her outside her home, shouting obscenities. He grabbed her, injuring her shoulder and arm, according to police records.

He went to a party at the house of friends, put a gun to her head and said, "You're gonna take a ride with me, and it will be your last." People at the party talked him into leaving.

After the shooting of Mr. Ireland, she alleged that Karvounis telephoned her home at least three times, attempting to get two of the couple's sons, then ages 11 and 18, to kill her and Mr. Ireland.

Police arrested Karvounis several times on spousal assault charges, but the cases were dropped because Mrs. Karvounis refused to testify against her husband.

Maria H. Karvounis, 40, who is now divorced, Mr. Ireland, 46, the manager and part-owner of the Oasis Nite Club on Baltimore's Block, and Karvounis all declined to be interviewed by The Sun.

Dennis J. Psoras, a lawyer who represented Karvounis in the criminal cases and his divorce, said the charges brought by Mrs. Karvounis were "too long ago to try and reconstruct."

"Quite simply, his wife was vexatious, and she used the courts to her advantage," Mr. Psoras said. "Harry's a decent fellow."

"What is over is over"

Several months before trial, Karvounis met with Mr. Ireland at the Fox Ridge Restaurant and passed him $25,000 in cash. At the time, Karvounis and his wife had reconciled.

The money prompted considerable debate at the weeklong trial in March 1989, but the purpose of the payment was never resolved, Judge Murphy recalled.

"It was unusual in the sense that in the garden-variety domestic assaults, the separated spouse doesn't usually pay any money for any reason to the paramour," Judge Murphy said. "While that fact is unusual, there was no persuasive evidence over what it was all about.

"Whether it was payment of a gambling debt or an attempt to get Ireland to drop the charges, I don't know. If it was a payoff to Ireland to have him not show up, it didn't work, because he testified against him."

A letter from Mrs. Karvounis to Mr. Ireland entered into evidence at trial stated, "I know you spent lots of money, Pete. I am making plans, and by the end of next week I will have $25,000. I know it is not everything, but at least I can pay you some back."

Mr. Jackson, the prosecutor, recalled being told that the payment was "a cash settlement with Ireland for furniture and things he had bought" while living with Mrs. Karvounis.

Russell J. White, Karvounis' lead defense attorney, said recently he was "sort of vague on" recalling the $25,000 payment. "Are you asking me if I thought it was a payoff? No, I don't think there was any fix."

Mr. Ireland was the prosecution's chief witness. Mrs. Karvounis refused to testify against her husband, invoking a marital privilege allowed under the law.

The jury found Karvounis guilty of attempted second-degree murder and use of a handgun in commission of a violent crime. Days later, on March 31, 1989, Karvounis appeared before Judge Murphy for sentencing.

Under the state's sentencing guidelines for a first-time offender, Mr. Jackson had recommended 12 to 20 years on the attempted murder charge and five to nine years on the handgun charge. The attempted murder charge could have brought a maximum sentence of 30 years in prison, and the handgun charge could have added 20 more years.

Expecting Mr. Ireland to denounce Karvounis, as he had for many months, Mr. Jackson told the judge that the victim wished to address the court.

"Your honor, I knew this man before he shot me and I would like to come forward and see this matter resolved and I would like to see him go on with his life," Mr. Ireland said, according to a court transcript.

"He has a family and I would like everything to be done. I have no hard feelings if this man don't do one day in jail," Mr. Ireland said. "What is over is over and I can live with him on the street. . . . I would like to see everything done with."

His comments caught Mr. Jackson completely off guard.

"He sandbagged me," the prosecutor said in a recent interview. "He led me to believe he was still incensed."

Mr. Ireland later told the prosecutor in the hall outside the courtroom: "I had to do what I had to do."

The next witness was Konstantine J. "Gus" Prevas, a well-known figure in Baltimore's Greek community. He is lawyer, friend and longtime adviser to John Paterakis, the multimillionaire who is president of H&S; Bakery Inc. and a major fund-raiser for Governor Schaefer.

Mr. Prevas, who sat through the trial, told Judge Murphy that he had known Harry Karvounis since his arrival in Baltimore in 1958. Karvounis' parents worked at the old Prevas hot-dog and milk-shake stand in Broadway Market.

"I found him to be nothing but a totally honest man, a totally placid man, a man who is totally dedicated to the work ethic, a man who is totally dedicated to his family, a man whose probably only vice was that he works too hard and works too long," Mr. Prevas said.

"Before this incident and even now after this incident, Harry Karvounis and his wife were always welcome in my home. He had been at the home of Mr. John Paterakis, another member of the Greek and American community, and is welcome in that home, and he asked me to advise the court accordingly," he told Judge Murphy.

Mr. Prevas, in a recent interview, said he mentioned Mr. Paterakis only to establish that Karvounis was a respectable citizen. He did not drop the name, he said, because of Mr. Paterakis' relationship with the governor.

Mr. Paterakis did not return a reporter's phone calls.

L After Mr. Prevas' courtroom remarks, Judge Murphy responded:

"Now, what Mr. Karvounis did was a terrible thing, but judges are supposed to sentence the offense and sentence the offender, and judges have to consider a lot of other things as well, as for example, the individual leniency recommendation that a victim can make.

"There have been very few pleas on behalf of defendants that I have seen that are as eloquent as the one Mr. Ireland makes for Mr. Karvounis, and I think that is important," he said.

If it were up to him, Judge Murphy said, he would sentence Karvounis to 18 months in a work-release program in jail. Expressing frustration, the judge explained that he had tried before to get around the mandatory handgun sentence, but with little success. In one case, the Court of Appeals forced him to impose the sentence after he had failed to do so.

Judge Murphy sentenced Karvounis to 12 years in prison on the attempted murder charge and then suspended the sentence, giving him five years' supervised probation. Bound by the handgun law, he gave him the mandatory minimum sentence of five years in prison.

That sentence was light, compared with penalties imposed on other Maryland inmates. From 1987 to 1990, the 13 people with no prior convictions who were found guilty of identical charges -- attempted second-degree murder and the handgun offense -- were sentenced to an average of 10.8 years, according to the Maryland Administrative Office of the Courts.

After pronouncing sentence, Judge Murphy vowed, "This is a case where I'm going to recommend that the governor commute his sentence to an appropriate length."

"The ends of justice"

Judge Murphy was true to his word: Nearly eight months later, on Nov. 17, 1989, he wrote Mr. Schaefer, sending him a transcript of the sentencing and asking that Karvounis be released.

"Karvounis' situation is a tragic example of the harm that too often results from 'mandatory' sentencing," he wrote.

In his letter, Judge Murphy conceded that "facts of this case are most unusual" and went on to assert that Karvounis had "an exemplary personal background." He incorrectly stated that Karvounis had "never before been accused of criminal conduct," when in fact he had been charged with assault numerous times by his wife. Mr. Ireland, he also incorrectly stated, "has an extensive criminal record." He has no record.

The prosecutor also wrote Mr. Schaefer, objecting to the judge's recommendation.

Mr. Jackson noted Karvounis' "less-than-exemplary behavior" in dealing with his wife. The prosecutor enclosed police reports and charging documents.

He also attached a copy of a report by Karvounis' psychiatrist, to whom Karvounis had described the shooting. That account, Mr. Jackson wrote, "is markedly different from that version of events that the defendant imparted under oath from the witness stand."

"This is indicative not of a contrite victim of circumstances, as the defendant would portray himself, but rather of a conniving, conveniently forgetful, self-serving felon," he wrote.

The prosecutor also raised the question of Mr. Ireland's plea for leniency, which figured so heavily in Judge Murphy's recommendation for the commutation.

"Mr. Ireland's plea may have been unduly colored by the $25,000 cash payment that the defendant made to him prior to trial," he wrote the governor. "Bluntly put, Mr. Ireland was doing what was best for Peter Ireland. My concern, of course, is not with Peter Ireland's interest, but rather with the ends of justice."

Mr. Prevas also weighed in. He initiated a letter-writing campaign to the governor, asking him to agree to the judge's request. "I know we gathered a lot of letters," he said.

After Mr. Schaefer asked the Maryland Parole Commission in December 1989 to investigate the Karvounis case, the panel recommended commutation. The commission agreed because of Judge Murphy's request and because Karvounis had no prior convictions, said Paul J. Davis, the board chairman.

On March 15, 1990, Mr. Schaefer granted Karvounis his bid for freedom. The governor cut his sentence to 18 months, the last six months on work release.

Karvounis walked out of prison on Sept. 29, 1990. He will be on probation until October 1995.

In a recent interview, Mr. Schaefer said he initially decided against the commutation, but changed his mind on the strength of Judge Murphy's request and Mr. Prevas' campaign to free Karvounis. He did not recall if Mr. Paterakis intervened on Karvounis' behalf.

"Any influence was the judge," Mr. Schaefer said. "The Greek community, not John Paterakis, the Greek community, was very strong for this, but . . . I don't remember John speaking about it. The Greek community said he was a good man, family and all that."

Mr. Schaefer, who in recent years has taken a tough anti-gun stance, said he did not consider that Karvounis' commutation effectively would circumvent the handgun sentence mandated by the legislature. "I never even thought about that," he said. "That wasn't part of it."

The governor did say that Mrs. Karvounis' charges of spousal assault might have prompted him to act differently, had he known then what he knows now about the "battered spouse syndrome."

"I didn't know what the battered spouse syndrome was till I went out to the [women's] prison [in January] and looked at those cases and read all those cases and became interested in it," Mr. Schaefer said. "Maybe later on, it might have made a difference, when I heard people were beaten, it may have triggered something."

Asked whether he felt he had done the right thing, he said, "Would I go back in this case? Absolutely not. Absolutely not."

As for Mrs. Karvounis, "this case is closed," she said, in declining to be interviewed.

"We don't bother him and he does not bother us," she said of her ex-husband. "I'm happy with the way things are now.

"Everything's been forgotten," she said.

Not everything. The prosecutor remembers the case as the most bizarre of his career, with surprises all along the way.

"Do I think justice was done?" Mr. Jackson paused. "I have no comment on that."