A Criminal Defense

I hit back at once with the only answer I can think of to the pilot’s testimony. “But the important part is that you, Mr. Collins, don’t know what Mr. Hanson was going to use the money for, do you?”


“Well, no. It was none of my business.”

At this, I practically shout. “None of your business? Well, that didn’t stop you from violating Mr. Hanson’s privacy by riffling through his personal luggage in the first place, did it?”

Collins squirms. I stop here, hoping that Devlin comes back with the obvious rejoinder. He doesn’t disappoint me.

“One more question, Mr. Collins,” Walker begins on redirect. “Since you don’t know what Mr. Hanson planned to use the money for, would you object to him telling us all now?”

I object, as Devlin knew I would. But he wasn’t asking the question to get an answer. He was making a point for Judge Henry. If David wasn’t going to use the money for a nest egg once he fled the jurisdiction, he needs to explain what he was going to do with it.

Devlin’s second witness is Kevin Kratz. My old classmate is even more nervous than he was sitting across from David Hanson at the American Way gala. Throughout his direct examination, Kevin uses his handkerchief to wipe sweat from his face. I can see him fighting the urge to glance at David, but he can’t help himself. He locks eyes with David half a dozen times. Three questions into direct examination, everyone in the courtroom can see that Kratz is absolutely petrified of David Hanson.

Devlin finishes up with Kevin’s position at HWI and has Kratz explain to the judge how he received the call from the police department’s financial-crimes officer about whether David had taken a large amount of company cash. “I told her it was impossible,” Kevin explains. “That David was no longer with the company. And that even if he were still employed at HWI, he wouldn’t have cause to be handling company cash. Still, I promised to check it out. The officer told me that she thought the cash may have been taken out of a subsidiary in Mexico, so I began making calls. That’s when I found out about the trip to Mexico City, where he absconded with two million dollars in cash from one of our subsidiaries there, Azoteca Comercial.”

“Objection,” I say. “Anything that Mr. Kratz is claiming to have learned from a third party not present in the courtroom is hearsay.”

Judge Henry thinks for a moment. “Overruled. I’ll hear the testimony. If I decide we need a representative from Azoteca Comercial here to testify, I’ll order it, and we’ll have a second day of hearings.” The judge then directs Kevin to continue.

“Of course, I took this information to Mr. Hanson, Edwin Hanson, our CEO,” Kevin says. “He was as shocked as I was. He asked me if I knew of any other money David might have made off with.”

I make a mental note of “made off with” and “absconded.” Kevin is peppering his speech with words and phrases from a 1940s film-noir screenplay. And this is when I realize that Kevin Kratz has made a decision to see that David, now down, stays down.

“The only other money I knew about,” Kratz continues, “is the money he parked in the numbered accounts in the Caymans. Years ago, David had asked me to find out how to set up overseas accounts there. He said he wanted to hide . . . that is, place . . . some of his money offshore. So I contacted some banks and set up some accounts for David. Then I helped David wire money a number of times from accounts here in the United States. A few times, David asked me to transfer money from one of the Cayman accounts to the other. That’s when he gave me the passwords to the accounts. So, when Edwin asked me about other money, I told him about the accounts, and I contacted the banks and used the passwords to have them e-mail me activity statements. I learned that the same day he withdrew the money from Azoteca Comercial, David withdrew two million more from one of his Cayman accounts. I reported this all back to Edwin Hanson, who told me to share it with the police.”

Devlin has Kevin Kratz describe his meetings with Caroline Robb, the financial-crimes detective, to lay the foundation for Robb’s own testimony. Then he turns my old classmate over to me for cross-examination. I start to stand, but David puts his hand on my arm. I sit back down, and David whispers in my ear, “Leave it.” I look at him, puzzled. I’m about to ask why, but then I figure it out. Kevin Kratz has a lot more dirt than just this on David. Additional questioning only risks opening a Pandora’s box.

“No questions,” I say.

Judge Henry raises his eyebrows, then tells Devlin to call his next witness.

Edwin Hanson takes the stand. Walker has him identify himself as the CEO of Hanson World Industries. Then he asks Edwin if David is his brother.

“My half brother,” Edwin says.

Devlin then gets down to business. He has Edwin identify the account in question as one belonging to Azoteca Comercial, an HWI subsidiary headquartered in Mexico City. From there it gets a little dicey for Edwin, who variously characterizes the money sitting in Azoteca Comercial as a “discretionary spending fund,” “nonallocated short-term capital,” and the “corporate equivalent of a petty-cash account.” By this point, everyone in the courtroom has figured out that HWI likely set up the account as a slush fund to hold money HWI needed to grease the gears of the Mexican bureaucracy—in violation of the Foreign Corrupt Practices Act.

“Is there any conceivable corporate purpose for the defendant, your half brother, to have withdrawn two million dollars in cash since his leave of absence from the company?” Devlin asks.

“None whatsoever.”

“Was the defendant traveling for a corporate purpose when he flew to Mexico City to withdraw the cash?”

“None whatsoever,” Edwin repeats. “He had no business using that plane.”

My cross-examination of Edwin is short. I can’t play up the dubious nature of the account David plundered because connecting David to a fund set up for an illegal purpose would hurt him as much as Edwin and HWI. Instead, I try to undercut Edwin’s testimony that David did not travel to Mexico for a company purpose. It doesn’t work.

“You’ve testified that my client took a leave of absence pending his trial,” I begin.

“It was that or be fired,” Edwin answers before I can complete the sentence.

William L. Myers Jr.'s books