“You took over his office?”
“Yes.”
“His secretary?”
“Yes.”
“David’s brother, Edwin Hanson, made all that happen for you, didn’t he?”
“Well, yes. He’s the CEO. It’s his decision who serves as general counsel.”
“Edwin Hanson hates David Hanson, doesn’t he?”
Kevin hesitates.
“You’re under oath,” I say.
“There is enmity between them.”
“David Hanson lives in the family home, rather than Edwin—isn’t that right? Because their father granted David’s mother a life estate in the property. She’s letting David, not Edwin, live there.”
“Yes.”
“Has Edwin complained bitterly about that?”
“He has expressed his displeasure.”
“Is Edwin also jealous that David, before his arrest, was on the verge of securing a huge deal for HWI—and for our entire region? Edwin was upset because he knew he was going to have to make David an executive vice president once it went through and bring him into the operations side of the business, isn’t that right?”
Devlin is on his feet. His anger has gotten the better of him. “Objection! There are about five questions in there. Not even questions. Statements. Five of them.”
Bill Henry smiles. “I think there are only two questions, counselor. Would the witness answer the first one first and the second one second?” The judge directs the court reporter to read my questions back.
“David was on the cusp of a very large deal, yes. And Edwin was going to have to promote him.”
I pause for a moment, then turn to the jury. “Cain and Abel,” I say.
Devlin objects, but the jury gets the picture. “Nothing further,” I tell the judge.
Devlin decides he wants Kratz off the stand as soon as possible and tells the court he has no redirect.
Despite the late start, Judge Henry breaks for lunch at 12:30, as usual. I speak for a few minutes with my team, telling Vaughn to walk Marcie and Alexander Ginsberg back to the office, where Angie will have lunch already set up for everyone.
The trial resumes at two o’clock. Devlin puts on the pilots, who regurgitate their testimony from the motion hearing. The jury hears all about David’s trip on the Learjet to Mexico and the Cayman Islands. The pilots’ testimony is sensational and makes an impact on the jury. Equally damning is the testimony of Caroline Robb, the assistant district attorney from the financial-crimes unit. She’s good on the stand, telling a story that transforms the jurors into fellow travelers on David’s cash-gathering journey. By the time she’s finished, each juror feels exhilarated by their jet-setting adventure. And dirty. Because it was a dirty business.
Cross-examining Caroline Robb, I know, is not going to be easy. She’s a pro. She has the evidence. She believes what she’s saying. Still, I have to try.
“All that flying around from one country to another . . . ,” I begin. “Seems like a lot of work to accomplish what you could do with a phone call or few keystrokes on a computer.”
Devlin objects, says that’s not a question. The judge sustains him.
“Ms. Robb, isn’t it true that Mr. Hanson simply could have called his bank in the Caymans and directed them to wire the money to an account here in Philadelphia and then have withdrawn the money here?”
“That would have left a paper trail. An American bank would have been required to report a withdrawal of that size to the government.”
“To the federal government, not the district attorney’s office?”
“He couldn’t have just told Azoteca Comercial to wire money to an account here,” Robb continues. “That money was cash, to begin with. The employees in Mexico would have had to deposit the money into a bank and then wire it here. It seems likely that someone would have called the home office before doing that, and your client would have been foiled before he could get the money.”
“But there’s an even larger problem with your theory,” I press. “If Mr. Hanson was planning to flee, there would never have been a need to wire money into the United States to begin with, would there?”
“I don’t follow.”
“Mr. Hanson has millions of dollars already in the United States that he could have wired to whatever country he was planning to flee to, right?”
Robb doesn’t skip a beat. “Except that wiring the money would, again, have created a paper trail that tipped the government off to his intended destination. Which is precisely why it was necessary to collect a bunch of cash and take it with him.”
“But there was no reason for him to forward money to his so-called destination in the first place, was there?”
“I don’t follow.”
“Mr. Hanson has accounts around the world. There’s money already waiting for him wherever he’d want to go, isn’t there?”
This stops Robb. She hasn’t thought of this. Or maybe she has thought of it but hasn’t figured out an answer. Still, she’s good on her feet and comes back with an answer. “Once your client fled the country, Mr. McFarland, he would have been a fugitive. There aren’t many countries without reciprocal extradition treaties. He couldn’t have gone to Europe. Or Canada. Or Australia or New Zealand. Or the Scandinavian countries. Even Iceland and Greenland would have shipped him back. I doubt that he had his money parked in any of the places that are left. He’d have needed cash.”
“So, you’re saying he had it all planned out? That he was acting rationally and that his plan all along was to get out of the United States and stay out?”
“I have no doubt of it.”
“Then why did he do it?”
“Do what?”
“Do what?” I repeat Robb’s question, my voice loud, my arms spread, looking straight at the jury. “Do the one thing that puts the lie to your whole theory.”
Robb rolls her eyes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Come back!”
Caroline gets it now. “Well . . .”
“Mr. Hanson was already in two foreign countries, but he came back to the United States, correct?”
“Yes.”
“To Philadelphia?”
“It would seem so.”
“He was in the Caymans! With a jet! And four million in cash! He was scot-free!”
“Objection!” Devlin is on his feet.
I ignore him. “But he came back here on the eve of his trial. Two weeks before jury selection. To prepare his defense!”
“The objection is sustained!” Now the judge’s voice is raised. Bill Henry’s upset with me. “Counsel will limit himself to questions, not speeches.”
The jury can see that I’ve crossed the line. But the point is clear. The last thing a rat trying to flee a trap will do once he gets out is to climb right back in.
Now it’s Edwin’s turn. Devlin wants to wrap up the afternoon having David’s own brother indict him. He moves quickly through the background questions about Edwin’s and David’s roles at HWI. He has Edwin repeat what Kevin Kratz told the jury about being asked by the DA’s financial-crimes unit to look into the possibility that David had misappropriated corporate cash. But when Devlin gets to the “money shot,” things go wrong for him.
“Was there any possible corporate purpose,” Walker asks, “for your brother’s taking two million dollars in cash from Azoteca Comercial?”
At the motion hearing, Edwin had answered, “None whatsoever.” The answer he gives today, however, is different.
“None that I was apprised of at the time.”
Devlin tries to hide his surprise. He stands behind his table, pretends to look through his notes. He’s trying to decide whether to remind Edwin of his prior testimony or leave it alone. He glances over at me and realizes I’ve caught the twist in Edwin’s testimony and that I’ll jump all over it if he doesn’t nail Edwin down first. “Mr. Hanson, do you recall that in previous testimony before this court, you stated that there was no corporate purpos
e for your brother’s using the company jet and taking the money from Azoteca Comercial?”
“I believe I said ‘none whatsoever.’ And there wasn’t that I was aware of at the time of my earlier testimony.”
“Well, as CEO of Hanson World Industries, you certainly would be aware of the use of the company jet and the withdrawal of large sums of cash.”
At this, Edwin’s tone turns nasty. “Mr. Walker, my company employs forty thousand people in two dozen countries. We have countless executives, and I don’t know how many airplanes. I assure you that I do not keep track of it all.”
Devlin is incredulous. “But this was your own brother, taking a jet out of Philadelphia and looting a subsidiary.”
“Objection,” I say. “The prosecutor is arguing with the witness. His own witness,” I add.
“Sustained,” the judge says. Then he looks to Devlin. “Is it your intention to impeach your own witness? You certainly may. But you have to ask permission first.”
Devlin is completely flustered at this turn of events. He pretends to look down at his notes again. I use the time to glance at David and Marcie, both of whom have very slight smiles on their faces. And I can guess why. They’ve gotten to Edwin, threatened him with something. It’s causing Edwin to throw Devlin a major curveball on direct and, if I’m guessing correctly, follow my lead on cross. So when Devlin mumbles that he has no further questions, I stand and lead Edwin down the primrose path. The path that I’d started to clear during the motion hearing.
“I understand that Hanson World Industries is involved in many humanitarian efforts around the globe,” I begin.
“Yes. That’s right. We’re very proud of our charitable work, particularly in Central America and the African nations.”
“I expect that your company would prefer to work through the governments of the countries in which you give aid. But some of those governments are less than trustworthy.”
“Yes.”
“So you’ve found it prudent to pay for food, clothing, services, and medical care directly. With cash.”
“Correct.”
“Do you require receipts?”
“Of course not.”
“And which executives at HWI oversee the company’s charitable efforts?”
Edwin pauses, but answers as I expect him to. “We have a department that runs all of our overseas aid. That department reports to the general counsel’s office.”
“And before your brother took his leave of absence, did he, as general counsel, fill you in on all the operational details of those efforts?”
“No.”
“So when you said that your brother’s use of the corporate funds from Azoteca Comercial was not for any purpose that you knew of, is it possible he took the money to use as part of HWI’s charitable work?”
Edwin clenches his jaw. “Yes.”
I thank Edwin for his candor and turn to take my seat. I can’t resist sneaking a peek at Devlin and Christina Wesley, both of whom are struggling to remain impassive. But there is someone in the courtroom even more upset by Edwin’s testimony than the two prosecutors. As David’s brother passes by the defense table, facing away from the jurors, he lets the mask he’s worn fall away. Edwin’s face remains fixed in stone, but his eyes are filled with hate.
29
TUESDAY, NOVEMBER 13, CONTINUED
Judge Henry waits for Edwin to exit the bar, then calls counsel up to the bench. “It’s 4:30,” he says, looking at the clock on the wall. “I’m going to send the jurors to their hotel. Then I want to meet with you in my chambers. We have some housekeeping matters.”
The judge tells the jury their trial day is over and reminds them not to talk about the case.
The jurors nod to show the judge they understand and will heed him. I know better, of course. By now the jury will have broken into smaller cliques of two or three. Could be along racial lines, gender lines, age lines, politics, or education. Or based on nothing more than how close some of the jurors are sitting together in the box. The members of these small groups will discuss the evidence. They’ll also exchange snide remarks about the witnesses, the lawyers, the judge, the people sitting in the spectator benches. Or other jurors. Sometimes the court’s deputy will overhear them and laugh along or mildly scold them. The bottom line is that opinions about every facet of the case have already begun to form in the jurors’ minds. These opinions will congeal over the next few days; in fact, some jurors will have already made up their minds long before the attorneys’ closing arguments.
Once the jurors and spectators have cleared the courtroom, I take my troops into the hallway for our daily debriefing. “Henry never should have let in all that stuff about David traveling abroad to gather money,” Alexander Ginsberg says. “I’m surprised he did.”
I thank Ginsberg, then turn to Marcie. “I’d like to meet with you after the conference with the judge,” I tell her. “Vaughn, will you walk Marcie to the office?” I watch them make their way down the hall toward the elevators. Piper has been hanging back a few feet away. I tell her I’ll be there in a minute.
“Mr. Walker was one unhappy pup in there,” Ginsberg says. “Any idea why his man Edwin turned coat?”
“An idea? Yes.”
“You know, Mick, you’re really not doing all that poorly. This may be a case to take to the jury, after all.”
I take a deep breath. I haven’t told Ginsberg about the tape. He doesn’t know, as I do from the video, that three men met with Jennifer Yamura in her house the day she was killed. That the second man pushed her down the stairs. And that it must have been the third man, David Hanson, who finished her off. And Ginsberg doesn’t know why I must ensure that David gets away with it. Or why, to make that happen, I need to see to it that this case never goes to verdict.
“I can’t have this case get anywhere near the jury,” I tell him. “And David and Marcie have to be plenty scared when the defense rests its case. That’s why you’re here.”
“I remember.”
Ginsberg leaves me, and I go over to Piper.
“I forgot how good you are,” she says. “And how interesting trials can be.”
“Interesting is a good word for it.”
“Ancient Chinese curse, I know,” Piper says, referring to the famous line: May you live in interesting times. “Seriously, though, I felt like I was on a roller coaster in there. The morning was bad for David, but in the afternoon things seemed to turn around. What did Mr. Ginsberg think?”
“He said that we can’t let this case get anywhere near a jury.” Piper’s face falls dramatically. “Hey, don’t worry. The prosecution’s case is full of holes, and I’m going to rip them wide open for the jury. Then comes our turn.”
“Will David have to testify?”
I take a deep breath. “I’m hoping not. Devlin would crush him. Unless David chooses to disclose his alibi for where he was at the time of the murder.”
“How long does he have to decide to do that?”
“We were supposed to notify the court and prosecution of a potential alibi defense a long time ago. Still, if David came forward even now with a credible alibi, I don’t think Bill Henry would exclude it.” I pause. Piper seems not to realize that I have stopped talking. “Hey? You okay?”
“Yeah.” She checks her watch. “Oops. I’ve got to get to my parents’ house and pick up Gabby.”
I walk Piper to the elevators and press the “Down” button for her. “I’m not going to be too late tonight,” I say. “I have to meet Marcie for a few minutes, discuss strategy, then tighten up my cross-examinations on some of the prosecution witnesses. Shouldn’t take more than a few hours. I’ll be home by nine.” Piper’s elevator arrives and she starts to enter. Then she turns to face me, holding open the doors.
“Is Marcie involved in the strategy?” Piper asks.
I nod. “Sometimes I think she’s more involved in it that I am.”
Piper stares at me for a moment, then smiles wanly and le
ts the elevator doors close. I take the next elevator to the twelfth floor and the judge’s chambers. The judge, Devlin Walker, Christina Wesley, and the judge’s law clerk are all waiting for me.
“Glad you could join us, Mr. McFarland,” the judge says. There’s a sharpness to his voice, and I decide not to make light of my tardiness. “All right,” he says, “now that we’re all here, let me get to it. This whole money thing is bothering me. I think I may have made a mistake in letting it in.” This causes Devlin to shift in his seat. Christina Wesley’s jaw drops. The judge goes on, addressing himself to me. “That’s why I gave you broad latitude in asking about all that charity stuff. Do you have a fair basis for that line of questioning? Some evidence to support it? It’s one thing to imply that your client used the money for a worthy goal in a motion hearing. It’s another entirely to use your questions to send a false message to the jury during trial.”
I look the judge in the eye and answer, “I do have a fair basis for my questions. Whether I decide to have my client take the stand and disclose that information is up in the air.”
Devlin is halfway out of his seat by now. “Your Honor, I would strongly object to the court’s reversing itself on this issue, particularly now that the Commonwealth has presented evidence on it. The jury would think we tried to get away with something and Your Honor shut us down.”
“Relax, counselor,” the judge says. “I haven’t made up my mind what I’m going to do yet. But from this point on, I don’t want any more testimony on it. I want you to focus on the elements of the charges.”
“Edwin Hanson was our last witness on the flight issue,” Devlin says.
The judge nods, then turns back to me. “I’m going to let in the evidence of the neighborhood robberies. This is a murder case, and it seems to me that other break-ins close in time and place to the murder are probative of the issue of whether there may have been someone other than the defendant with the motive and opportunity to kill the decedent.”
Devlin protests. “Your Honor, there are burglaries and petty crimes in every neighborhood in the city. Are we going to conduct mini trials on every neighborhood transgression in all of our murder cases? It would be unworkable!”
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