For all of his public outbursts and bombastic nature, in many ways Conrad Black was the ideal client. He was gracious and polite and always respectful in discussions with his lawyers. Only once during the trial, during the testimony of a member of the audit committee, Richard Burt, did Black genuinely panic. Even after the verdict, when Eddie Greenspan was vilified in many quarters, Black resolutely stood behind his chosen general.
Greenspan maintained that the source for the scorching article that appeared in Maclean’s magazine after the trial about his abject performance and “disastrous defence” was Barbara Amiel and not his client. He telephoned his good friend George Jonas to complain that Amiel, who was Jonas’s ex-wife, had only succeeded in increasing her husband’s sentence. Greenspan was confident that the trial judge would read the article and be particularly perturbed by the disparaging comments made about Ed Genson. Genson was by far the judge’s favourite attorney in the case.
How did Conrad Black come to retain “two fat Jewish guys,” as Greenspan amusingly described the Black legal team?
Greenspan first became involved in Black’s tangled legal affairs in November of 2003 as an independent legal advisor. Black had signed a restructuring agreement that essentially removed control of Hollinger International from himself. Greenspan would later refer to this “baffling act” as the single moment that unravelled Conrad Black. He was uncertain if Black had obtained any legal counsel before taking such drastic action.
Black continued to conduct the company’s affairs as if there had been no transfer of control. He maintained that he had been lied to and the agreement was therefore of no force and effect. He had retained a Washington law firm, Sullivan Cromwell, partly on the basis that John Foster Dulles was associated with the firm. Greenspan had flown into Washington before and was aware that one of the airports was named Dulles Airport. “Don’t they name airports after dead people?” he asked Black.
The pressing legal question confronting Black at the time was a subpoena to testify at the SEC. Black’s counsel at Sullivan Cromwell was urging him to testify in Chicago. Greenspan spent a couple of days with Black listening to his version of the facts. While heartened by what he heard, Greenspan was adamant that there could be no advantage for Black in testifying. A testy exchange then ensued with Black’s Washington lawyer.
“I’ve never had a client refuse to testify before the SEC,” he advised Greenspan.
“Well I’ve never agreed to ever have my client testify,” was the brusque reply from Greenspan. Black eventually asserted his Fifth Amendment right to remain silent before the SEC.
Conrad Black’s civil actions continued in the early months of 2004. One of them was disastrous. In Delaware, the sale of Hollinger International assets to Barclays Bank in England was halted in Commercial Court. Black’s credibility was shredded by the presiding judge, Leo Strine. Black’s confidence in Sullivan Cromwell was gone and he was ready to bring on new counsel to represent him. By this time a grand jury had been established to proceed with a criminal indictment against Black. Criminal charges were a virtual certainty.
Black had watched the Iran Contra hearings on television and was particularly enthralled with Oliver North’s lawyer, Brendan Sullivan. On the strength of that sole appearance, Black selected him as his new attorney. Sullivan agreed to take on Black’s file.
On March 19, 2004, Conrad Black met Sullivan in Palm Beach, Florida, to retain him to handle his civil and criminal matters. Greenspan was linked to the meeting by speaker phone. During the discussion, Sullivan told Black that he never had a client go to jail. Greenspan later commented that either Sullivan was lying or he was not a criminal lawyer. However, if Sullivan’s claim was true, Greenspan promised to send him all of his clients.
Sullivan’s firm was hired; the Palm Beach meeting was the only time that the two men ever met. Greenspan spoke to him a few times, and all of Black’s contact occurred with lawyers at the firm who made few critical decisions without first checking with Brendan Sullivan.
Greenspan had considerable misgivings about one law firm representing Black on both his civil and criminal matters. During discovery, it would be impossible for the law firm to block disclosure of a document connected to the criminal case. Greenspan told Black that having a civil firm acting on both ends of his case was “nuts.”
A competition began among law firms for the millions of dollars at stake in Conrad Black’s civil file. They wooed him with highly sophisticated demos and PowerPoint presentations. Black attended each of the presentations on his own and regularly reported back to Greenspan. Greenspan was personally contacted by a number of prominent attorneys from the white-collar bar in the U.S. actively seeking the case. The winner of the law firm pageant was the Washington firm of Baker Botts. Greenspan was impressed with Bill Jefres in particular, who came highly recommended by Brendan Sullivan. Jefres would eventually act as co-counsel for Scooter Libby at his high-profile trial in Washington. Sullivan continued to act as Black’s criminal lawyer while Greenspan remained in the background as a legal advisor.
Greenspan was teaching for one week at Hebrew University in Jerusalem when a fees dispute arose between Black and Sullivan’s firm. Although Black had paid the firm millions, Sullivan asked for a further $25 million to represent him in his criminal matter. Greenspan told Black on the phone that “this is a fuck-off fee” and that Sullivan wanted to be removed from the file. There was some further discussion about one of Sullivan’s partners, Greg Craig, taking over the file for a significantly lower fee, but ultimately it was agreed that new criminal counsel would be sought.
Greenspan had already concluded that a criminal case was inevitable. Radler had pulled out of the joint defence agreement and was turning to become a prosecution witness. Certainly the disaster in Delaware had been closely watched by Radler’s Chicago attorney, Anton Valukas, a former United States attorney. The trial for Conrad Black would not be in New York as many suspected but rather in Chicago, the headquarters of Hollinger International. Chicago was an idiosyncratic town with its own character and personality. Black entrusted Greenspan with the task of choosing his Chicago counsel. “You pick the team,” he instructed him.
For Greenspan there was only one viable choice. The attorney with the best reputation in the city, Dan Webb, was out of the running because he was a law partner of Governor Thompson’s. Thompson was the chair of the audit committee at Hollinger International and would be a key witness in the case. That left Ed Genson, whom Greenspan knew because his daughter Juliana had worked for Genson for several years. The two men had dinner together every time Greenspan was in Chicago. Genson talked a great deal about himself at these dinners but Eddie found him to be colourful and amusing.
Genson was part of the Chicago fabric as much as Studs Terkel or Wrigley Field. In Genson’s own words, “everyone tries to hire me in Chicago.” In fact, Ravelston, the management company once controlled by Black and Radler, had earlier approached Genson to take on their criminal case.[4] Greenspan suggested he decline the case but made it clear that he wasn’t promising anything.
Greenspan met with Genson to discuss the parameters of his involvement in the case. Greenspan wanted to handle the case in Chicago and he would be the undisputed “boss.” If the two men differed, Greenspan would command the deciding vote. The second rule was that Greenspan would cross-examine Radler and the entire audit committee. Greenspan added Henry Kissinger, a Hollinger board member, to the list as well — the opportunity to cross-examine a former secretary of state was too alluring to pass up. Genson readily agreed to the terms. “Can we work together?” Greenspan asked Genson. “Absolutely,” replied Genson. “We’ll make a wonderful team. You’re the boss, Eddie.”
The two men shook hands. All that remained was for the client to meet Genson and approve. Genson’s office was located in the Monadnock Building in Chicago’s Loop. He kept a railroad spotlight from 1933 in the reception