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 purpose 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.”