PROVIDENCE -- Unmoved by an expression of sorrow by a crying Esteban Carpio, Superior Court Judge Robert D. Krause yesterday sentenced Carpio to life imprisonment without parole for the first-degree murder of Providence police Detective Sgt. James L. Allen.

"It would appear to the court, Mr. Carpio, that you are incorrigible," a grim Krause declared. The judge called Carpio a "severe antisocial personality" who has suffered from a psychosis mostly caused by drug abuse and who lacks remorse.

Imposing a sentence that would allow for the possibility of eventual parole would be antithetical to a civilized society, he said.

Carpio, 28, a onetime barber from Boston who was a pimp and a drug dealer, was convicted five weeks ago of shooting Allen to death with the detective's own gun in the detective bureau at police headquarters on April 16, 2005. A jury rejected his argument, which he repeated yesterday, that he was insane and could neither control his actions nor appreciate the wrongfulness of his actions at the time of the killing.

Krause added a mandatory life sentence for Carpio's use of a firearm in a fatal crime of violence plus 20 years' imprisonment for assault with a dangerous weapon on an elderly North End woman, both to be served consecutive to the sentence of life without parole.

Before passing sentence, Krause heard tales of two lives: Carpio's, largely misspent as a criminal and apparently darkened by a learning disability and mental illness, and Allen's, devoted to God, family and duty.

"I was doing all right until one day I woke up and there was something wrong with me," Carpio told the judge. Wearing a white pinstriped shirt hanging outside his pants, he stood at the defense table and read from a piece of paper.

Speaking at length in the courtroom for the first time during the months of proceedings against him, Carpio had a rapt audience of more than 90 people, including his relatives; Allen's family; Attorney General Patrick C. Lynch; Providence Mayor David N. Cicilline; and 40-plus police officers, some of whom had pained looks on their faces.

Carpio's mother, Yvonne Carpio, his grandmother, Jean Gonsalves, and his aunt, Dolores Gonsalves Irish, told the judge that mental illness runs in his father's side of their family and that Carpio's father was mentally disturbed and a drug addict and alcoholic.

"I am truly sorry for what has happened to the victims and the victims' families," Esteban Carpio said.

"Please forgive me."

Carpio grew up a painfully shy but nice and respectful child who "came alive when he danced," family members recalled. They said he was victimized by a dysfunctional home life in which his father abused his mother and finally abandoned the family; was poisoned by a rap and hip-hop culture that glorifies the wrong things; was driven to bizarre behavior by schizophrenia, which caused him to hear disembodied voices; and ultimately was failed by the hospital and mental health-care systems that did not treat him adequately, in part because he lacked medical insurance.

"My son is sick. Don't beat and torture a sick person," Yvonne Carpio said when she took her turn at the courtroom lectern. "My son is not a monster. He did not intentionally" harm Allen.

Carpio attended high school in the wealthy Boston suburb of Weston as part of a program for disadvantaged teenagers. He played basketball but ultimately dropped out in his junior year, became a juvenile delinquent and was shot and stabbed as a gang member at the age of 17.

Assistant Attorney General Paul F. Daly Jr., the prosecutor, said Carpio engaged in a gradually escalating pattern of crime in which he preyed on those who were sympathetic to him or fearful of him, such as girlfriends and prostitutes. They called the police a number of times, seeking protection, but ultimately would refuse to press charges against him, public records show.

The prosecutor disclosed that while Carpio has been incarcerated at the Adult Correctional Institutions, he wrote an autobiography entitled The Story of Esteban Carpio. Carpio betrays his "depraved heart" in his writings and comes through as a self-absorbed, "greedy young man . . . dismissive of the law" who peddles drugs, does not financially support his two children and turned his girlfriend to prostitution.

"There is simply no reason to believe that this leopard will ever change his spots," Daly said.

In arguing that Carpio cannot be rehabilitated, Daly referred to his misbehavior while in prison and disclosed that he tried to escape.

Tracey Poole, spokeswoman for the Department of Corrections, confirmed that on Jan. 6, Carpio was being taken from the ACI to the Rhode Island Hospital emergency room for an undisclosed reason and he made a grab for the handle of the rear door of the vehicle in which he was riding.

"He reached for the door handle and attempted to open it from the inside, which can't be done in one of our vehicles," Poole said. The incident occurred while the vehicle was moving on Route 10.

A dramatically different picture emerged of "Jimmy" Allen, a husband and father of two teenage daughters and a 27-year veteran of the police force who earned numerous accolades for his service, including the prestigious Chief's Award and the American Legion Award for Heroism for having rescued a 77-year-old woman in a wheelchair from a fire.

Daly showed a three-minute video on a projection screen accompanied by choral music that was a succession of still photographs depicting the path of Allen's life. It included photos of his wedding; his swearing-in as a police officer, candid family shots, and his funeral and burial processions.

"Jimmy was a good cop because he was a good person," Marguerite Allen, his widow, told the judge. She described his work ethic and his tender ways with his daughters. "Jimmy died doing a job that he loved to do," she said.

Mrs. Allen recalled some of the details of the awful night of her husband's death and said, "This pain does not go away. There's a big hole, an empty place in our lives."

Carpio "should not be allowed to be free to hurt anyone else," she urged.

According to Daly, Carpio is the first person sentenced for the murder of a police officer in the performance of the officer's duty under a statute that was enacted about 25 years ago. The statute allows a judge to sentence such a murderer to a term of life without parole.

After the sentencing, retired Providence police Capt. Lloyd Allen, James Allen's father, said he was grateful that the judge gave Carpio the maximum sentence.

"I figure justice was served," he said.

gsmith@projo.com / (401) 277-7334