A Criminal Defense

Judge Henry dismisses Albert Mays and signals it’s time to take our midmorning break. After the break, the court refills, and Devlin puts Kevin Kratz on the stand. Kratz’s testimony is pretty much a replay of what he’d said at the hearing that caused Judge Henry to revoke David’s bail and send him to jail pending the outcome at trial. This time, however, Kratz doesn’t seem afraid so much as resigned. He says what Devlin wants him to but comes across as listless, almost lifeless. This frustrates Devlin, who glances back periodically to Christina Wesley. Given Kratz’s complete lack of enthusiasm for what he’s saying, I decide to limit my cross to a single, vital point.

“When my client went on a leave of absence, you’re the one who took his job as general counsel of HWI, isn’t that right?”

“Yes.”

“A big raise in pay?”

Kevin takes a deep breath. “Substantial. Commensurate with the additional responsibilities.”

“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.


William L. Myers Jr.'s books