Genson’s introduction to Conrad Black reminded Greenspan of a scene straight out of Bonfire of the Vanities. Black walked in with his nose in the air. He was the “Master of the Universe [who] took a masculine pride in the notion that he could handle all sides of life.” The thought must have passed through Black’s aristocratic mind at that instant that he could have any big-firm guys he desired and was now settling on a character straight out of the world of the beleaguered defendant in Tom Wolfe’s classic novel: “How could he let any decision affecting his life be made by this sort of person in this sort of atmosphere? He had called in sick — that lamest, weakest, most sniveling of life’s small lies — to Pierce & Pierce; for this itching slum of the legal world.”[5]
Black accepted Greenspan’s recommendation for his co-counsel, and the key players in the defence team were in place. Genson never conducted any of the pre-trial motions in the case. That task was delegated to the “law guy” in the office, Marc Martin. Martin was regarded as having a keen legal mind and reminded Greenspan of his former partner, Marc Rosenberg (now a justice of the Ontario Court of Appeal).
Eddie Greenspan was the first person to let Conrad Black know that he would be charged criminally. Greenspan described it as a winnable case, but Black was “mad as hell.” The indictment against Black was announced on November 17, 2005, and was accompanied by a detailed press release from the U.S. Department of Justice. Robert Grant, from the Chicago office of the FBI, summarized the case in the release in the following fashion: “The frauds in this indictment were blatant and pervasive: they extended from back rooms to the boardroom, and from Park Avenue to the South Pacific. Our job is to protect investors from Wall Street to LaSalle Street and in other global financial markets.”
The indictment was bulky, which is a typical feature of indictments in high-profile fraud cases in America. As one attorney noted, it serves the purpose of telling the story from the prosecutor’s point of view. The press receives the public document with all of the intended sound bites. That represents half the battle for the government. The other prominent feature of the indictment was that it contained vague charges like mail fraud where the actual criminal component was less than clear.[6]
As Greenspan observed, the case came down on Black “like a ton of bricks.” He put on a brave face in public but he was shocked at the severity and number of the charges. The racketeering charge seemed particularly mean-spirited to him and his attorneys. Greenspan and Genson both wondered what the Racketeer Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act (RICO) had to do with non-competition agreements.
The prosecutors had the blueprint for their case in the investigative report prepared by Richard Breeden, the former head of the SEC who led the special committee that was appointed to look into the non-compete payments. They relied heavily on it. Their target was Lord Black of Crossharbour, a newspaper mogul connected to the Chicago Sun-Times who was much disliked in some circles. Both Genson and Greenspan worried that that their client would become the prosecutors’ ticket to a major law firm and the case would evolve into a crusade.
Bail was carefully negotiated before Conrad Black surrendered to the Chicago authorities. Greenspan left from Toronto with Black and Juliana on a private plane the morning of the surrender. Prior to the trip, Greenspan insisted that Black meet with him to discuss the consequences of surrendering to the U.S. authorities. There was never any thought of Black fighting extradition. When Greenspan told him about his possible sentence if he was convicted, Black stared at him as if he were crazy.
When they arrived at the federal courthouse in Chicago, they were greeted at the probation office by Genson and Martin. Black was never handcuffed, but in accordance with standard procedure, he provided a urine sample and a couple sets of fingerprints.
When they entered Judge St. Eve’s courtroom, the mood was serious and the bail hearing was all business. Martin presented Greenspan’s application to act as counsel in a Chicago courtroom and the application was granted with little fanfare. Greenspan was surprised, as he had believed it might be a contentious issue. Greenspan would later come to joke that he would never even fly over Chicago again because of the ordeal of the trial. But for now, he still loved the city.
A Picture Is Worth a Thousand Convictions
Over the course of a legal career that has spanned almost forty years, Eddie Greenspan has formed a symbiotic relationship with the media. It has resulted in his achieving a degree of fame in Canada that is likely unmatched in the country’s history. Just as Wayne Gretzky and Sidney Crosby have attained superstar status in hockey, Greenspan has reached the same lofty heights in the legal sphere.
The Conrad Black trial would bring Eddie Greenspan to the American stage for the first time. As Genson noted, Greenspan really wanted to do this trial. He revered legendary trial lawyers from America such as Edward Bennett Williams and Clarence Darrow. Indeed, Greenspan modelled the beginning of his closing address on Williams’s famed closing statement in his successful defence of Governor John Connally.
A certain group of attorneys in Chicago watched with disbelief as Greenspan was featured in the media as the Black trial approached. They happened to be Conrad Black’s prosecutors. They had devoted months to researching the case, poring over the Breeden Report and conducting multiple interviews with witnesses in both Canada and the United States. They emphatically resented all of the ink that some Canadian lawyer was attracting.
Their deep resentment towards Greenspan would bubble to the surface repeatedly during the trial and eventually would develop into a seeming obsession for some of them.
“Where’s the great Eddie Greenspan? Where’s Canada’s Clarence Darrow? Huh!” Eric Sussman would rhetorically ask a Canadian journalist. Jeffrey Cramer declared at one point during the trial that “if Greenspan is the best lawyer in Canada, you guys are screwed.”
A decision was made about one week before jury selection to take a staged photograph of the four prosecutors and distribute it broadly to various news organizations. The photograph was prominently featured in newspapers in both Chicago and Toronto. All four prosecutors posed like actors in Law & Order or the more dated Mod Squad. Eric Sussman’s arms were firmly crossed while Julie Ruder’s hair appeared to be blowing with the assistance of a fan.
Mark Kipnis picked up his local Chicago paper and was devastated. “Who do these people think they are?” he wondered. “Don’t they know that I’m a husband, a father, a real person?”
This team photo of Black’s prosecutors generated a lot of discussion among the lawyers in the city of Chicago. As far as anyone could recall, no prosecutors had ever posed for a publicity photo before a trial. Even some members of their own U.S. Attorney’s Office began to poke fun at the four prosecutors.
When the trial concluded, Eddie Greenspan was invited to address the American College of Trial Lawyers on the subject of the Black trial. When he placed the prosecutors’ photo on an overhead, it was greeted with laughter by the elite group of trial lawyers. Greenspan shared his view that the photo depicted the prosecutors posing as crime fighters. If any prosecutor in Canada attempted a similar stunt, he would immediately be reported to the Law Society for conduct unbecoming a barrister and solicitor.
Black “I”
He had a tendency to look down at us, like he couldn’t believe people so beneath him were responsible for his freedom. He didn’t portray any warmth, any emotions at all. It looked like he thought the whole trial was a big waste of his time.[7]
— juror Jean Kelly speaking about Conrad Black
It is very refreshing to have a system in America that allows jurors to speak freely after a trial and admit to drawing impermissible inferences that weren’t based on a shred of evidence called. Jean Kelly further commented that other jurors felt that because Conrad Black was arrogant, “we have to nail him on something.”[8]
While it is true that Black’s mouth sometimes acted like an uncapped fire hydrant outside the courtroom, with his words gushing freely from the spout, his conduct in front of the jury betrayed none of his imperious traits (although Greenspan did have to remind him on occasion not to sit with his arms crossed).