Anchorage--
Judge Ralph Beistline yesterday moved the trial of ex-State Rep. Vic Kohring (R.-Wasilla) from Anchorage to Fairbanks in an order that expressed the same logic as his order making the same shift for ex-State Rep. Pete Kott (R.-Eagle River).
Saturday, August 13, 2011
Friday, August 12, 2011
Judge Moves Kott Trial to Fairbanks
Anchorage--
Judge Ralph Beistline has ordered that the trial of former State Rep. Pete Kott (R.-Eagle River) be moved from Anchorage to Fairbanks. The order came in response to a request by the defense to move the trial out of Anchorage due to concerns that publicity in Alaska's largest city would make it difficult to find an unbiased jury. The selection of Fairbanks as the site for the trial was made by the judge, who frequently notes his origins in the Golden Heart City.
When scheduled for Anchorage, the trial date was December 5, but the shift might cause a change in the date.
Judge Ralph Beistline has ordered that the trial of former State Rep. Pete Kott (R.-Eagle River) be moved from Anchorage to Fairbanks. The order came in response to a request by the defense to move the trial out of Anchorage due to concerns that publicity in Alaska's largest city would make it difficult to find an unbiased jury. The selection of Fairbanks as the site for the trial was made by the judge, who frequently notes his origins in the Golden Heart City.
When scheduled for Anchorage, the trial date was December 5, but the shift might cause a change in the date.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
What About Ben?
Anchorage--
So I haven't been the most consistent blogger. To compensate, here's an early taste of my new column for the Alaska Bar Rag, the official quarterly publication for the Last Frontier's lawyers. As you can see, I submitted a few hours before the news of last night, which caused me to drop in one sentence as an update.
What About Ben?
By Cliff Groh
Judging by what has happened in court, Ben Stevens might argue that he was an honest man wrongly dragged into the Last Frontier’s public corruption scandals.
After all, the man who only a half dozen years ago seemed set to be the next Alaska Governor or U.S. Senator was the only state legislator in 2006 whose offices were searched by the FBI who did NOT become either a criminal defendant or a cooperating witness.
But you have to wonder.
Accounts of the actions of Ben Stevens in the seafood industry as a consultant, lobbyist, investor, and member of a federally funded non-profit board while his father Ted was in the U.S. Senate read like textbooks on conflict of interest. While continuing to deny wrongdoing, Ben Stevens was by his own account under investigation by four federal agencies in 2007.
More pointedly, two executives of the now-defunct oil-services giant VECO testified under oath in 2007 that they had pleaded guilty to bribing Ben Stevens. Those VECO executives—Bill Allen and Rick Smith—agreed with federal prosecutors that the $243,250 in consulting fees that the Anchorage Republican lawmaker reported receiving from VECO through a private company he owned while he served in the State Senate was actually for “giving advice, lobbying colleagues, and taking official acts in matters before the legislature.”
Yet the eight-year-old federal investigation into Alaska public corruption has not produced a charge against Ben Stevens, and I will eat my baseball cap if he is prosecuted in that probe. [UPDATE: Several hours after this column was submitted to the Alaska Bar Rag, the Anchorage Daily News reported on its website that the Department of Justice has advised former Alaska State Senate President Ben Stevens that the ex-lawmaker will not face charges in the federal investigation into public corruption in the 49th State.]
Why didn’t that dog bark?
We must clear substantial underbrush in answering this question. Understand that nothing in this analysis is based on inside information from decision-makers within the federal government. Recognize that nothing written here is intended to accuse anyone of committing a crime. Ignore the controversy stirred by Ben Stevens getting more than $715,000 for three years of part-time work as chief executive of the 2001 Special Olympics World Winter Games. Set aside any surprise over the fact that he served four years on the Select Committee on Legislative Ethics.
Let’s skip any sense of regret or schadenfreude about this obviously intelligent and hard-working man’s meteoric career in business and public office, folks, and just focus as lawyers on how Ben Stevens escaped criminal charges.
It is not enough to whistle the Creedence Clearwater Revival song lyric “I ain’t no senator’s son.” Whatever protection (as well as career promotion) was afforded by having Ted Stevens as a father seemed to be over by 2008, when the iconic U.S. Senator got charged in a case that generated guilty verdicts on seven felonies before imploding less than six months later.
Nor does it work to suggest—as some observers have—that Ben Stevens made his own deal with the feds to give him immunity from prosecution. It’s not just that no evidence exists of such an agreement—there appears to be nothing that the former Anchorage Republican lawmaker ever gave the Justice Department to make such a deal plausible.
No, Ben Stevens’ avoidance of prosecution in the “POLAR PEN” probe seems to stem from a combination of luck, prudence, and hiding in plain sight.
Ben Stevens caught a big break when the Justice Department did not include him in the first wave of defendants charged in May of 2007 with crimes associated with VECO executives’ corruption of state legislators over oil-tax legislation debated the previous year. This omission might have been caused in part by the feds seeing the potential prosecution of Ben Stevens as a bargaining chip they could play later in the negotiations with his father.
Yet time did not turn out to be kind to the federal investigation into Alaska public corruption. The feds charged Ted Stevens without charging Ben Stevens, and the probe’s fortunes soured quickly after the jury returned guilty verdicts against Ted Stevens in October of 2008. The Ted Stevens prosecution collapsed in April of 2009 in the wake of revelations of failures to provide discovery, putting the government employees best informed about “POLAR PEN” under investigation themselves. Additional disclosures have dented the credibility of Allen and Smith, two of the prosecution’s key witnesses in previous trials. Last year’s U.S. Supreme Court decision in Skilling v. U.S. sharply pruned the scope of the honest services fraud statute, a favorite weapon wielded by federal prosecutors in public corruption cases that was used against half of the 12 defendants charged in the “POLAR PEN” probe.
The prosecutors might well have perceived additional problems with charging Ben Stevens even back when the feds were flying high in 2007, however. The combination of what appears to be his relative invisibility on incriminating tapes and his extensive financial disclosures may have saved him.
Ben Stevens received almost a quarter of a million dollars in fees from VECO while he was in the State Senate and also took positions as a legislator on oil taxes that VECO wanted him to take, but those facts do not by themselves constitute a crime. What was going on in Ben Stevens’ mind is where the action is in prosecuting him, as it often is in public corruption cases. (That’s also true in the broader category of white-collar crime cases, like that of his father.)
Prosecutors have found that the best way to show that a defendant in a public corruption case has criminal intent is by playing tapes that show him saying and/or doing things that make him look guilty. All the defendants that juries have returned guilty verdicts against in the Alaska public corruption cases have had damaging tapes of them played in front of the jury.
Tapes tend to trump other evidence. As one former federal prosecutor observed, the government attorneys in the “POLAR PEN” cases sometimes seemed primed merely to walk into court and push “PLAY,” and the feds might have thought they didn’t have enough incriminating tapes on Ben Stevens to go forward.
Unlike other legislators convicted in the probe, Ben Stevens might not have frequented the infamous VECO-rented Suite 604 in Juneau’s Baranof Hotel that the FBI bugged to such effect. Whether this conduct flows from a sensible desire to stay away from that “Animal House” atmosphere or from the family needs of a father of four, Ben Stevens’ apparent lack of a starring role in the FBI’s greatest hits has served him well.
Aside from whatever the more than 17,000 conversations the feds intercepted in the “POLAR PEN” probe may show about Ben Stevens, there is another problem the feds have in prosecuting him on offenses involving either VECO or fisheries. That problem is the fact that the former State Senator apparently disclosed all the income he collected for consulting and/or lobbying that he was legally required to disclose. You might think his conduct was unseemly and unsavory, but it’s likely that Ben Stevens would say that he is just a hard-working businessman who laid bare his income as the law required, both when he served as a federal lobbyist and later when he served as a state legislator.
As to all that money from VECO that came in to the legislator when his work product may look minimal or even non-existent, Ben Stevens might well say that he thought he was on retainer—a retainer that allowed Bill Allen to call Ben Stevens about work for VECO anytime 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Ben Stevens might add that it was not his problem that Allen seemed to call him so infrequently to work on matters such as advice on salvaging vessels.
Observers might point to the $983,807.66 in fees that Ben Stevens reported receiving for business services and/or management services from VECO and fishing interests alone during the five full calendar years he served as a legislator in comparison to the relatively small amounts involved in the cases that sent other lawmakers to prison. The sheer amount of money, however, is not all that matters.
A common thread in the cases against the state legislators convicted at trial in the “POLAR PEN” probe was what juries saw as clumsy attempts to conceal benefits: a bogus flooring invoice submitted by former Rep. Pete Kott (R.-Eagle River); a request to hide help on a credit card balance by former Rep. Vic Kohring (R.-Wasilla); a phony Website in the case of former Rep. Tom Anderson (R.-Anchorage). The contemporaneous cover-ups helped the juries find the guilty intent. (Reversals on appeal of the convictions of Kott and Kohring have led to re-trials being scheduled for late this year.)
With Ben Stevens, on the other hand, there appeared to be no subterfuge—all the income seems to have been reported. Although paper trails are often seen as trouble, a particular kind of paper trail—one shorn of detailed descriptions of tasks performed or time spent working—appears to have helped keep Ben Stevens out of trouble. The system could not handle that hiding in plain sight.
You might think that the story of Ben Stevens is a prime Alaska example of the maxim of columnist Michael Kinsley to the effect that the real scandal is not what’s illegal—it’s what’s legal. You might also think that not prosecuting Ben Stevens after getting Allen and Smith to plead guilty to bribing him might pose a particular public relations problem for the Department of Justice, but such a result would be neither illegal nor unprecedented. One well-known irony that involved verdicts by juries rather than the exercise of prosecutorial discretion comes from the notorious Teapot Dome scandal of the 1920s. Albert Fall was convicted for taking a bribe from oilman Edward Doheny while serving as Secretary of Interior, but Doheny was acquitted of the charge of bribing Fall.
Cliff Groh is a lifelong Alaskan who has worked as a prosecutor and represented some criminal defendants in his private practice. He is a lawyer and writer in Anchorage whose law practice focuses on the writing and revision of briefs and motions. Disclosures potentially relevant to his writings about the Alaska public corruption probe can be found at http://alaskacorruption.blogspot.com/2011/05/even-more-updated-biography-with-still.html on the Internet. Conversations with numerous people—including Anchorage lawyers Mark Regan and George Freeman—have sharpened the author’s thinking on this column’s subject.
So I haven't been the most consistent blogger. To compensate, here's an early taste of my new column for the Alaska Bar Rag, the official quarterly publication for the Last Frontier's lawyers. As you can see, I submitted a few hours before the news of last night, which caused me to drop in one sentence as an update.
What About Ben?
By Cliff Groh
Judging by what has happened in court, Ben Stevens might argue that he was an honest man wrongly dragged into the Last Frontier’s public corruption scandals.
After all, the man who only a half dozen years ago seemed set to be the next Alaska Governor or U.S. Senator was the only state legislator in 2006 whose offices were searched by the FBI who did NOT become either a criminal defendant or a cooperating witness.
But you have to wonder.
Accounts of the actions of Ben Stevens in the seafood industry as a consultant, lobbyist, investor, and member of a federally funded non-profit board while his father Ted was in the U.S. Senate read like textbooks on conflict of interest. While continuing to deny wrongdoing, Ben Stevens was by his own account under investigation by four federal agencies in 2007.
More pointedly, two executives of the now-defunct oil-services giant VECO testified under oath in 2007 that they had pleaded guilty to bribing Ben Stevens. Those VECO executives—Bill Allen and Rick Smith—agreed with federal prosecutors that the $243,250 in consulting fees that the Anchorage Republican lawmaker reported receiving from VECO through a private company he owned while he served in the State Senate was actually for “giving advice, lobbying colleagues, and taking official acts in matters before the legislature.”
Yet the eight-year-old federal investigation into Alaska public corruption has not produced a charge against Ben Stevens, and I will eat my baseball cap if he is prosecuted in that probe. [UPDATE: Several hours after this column was submitted to the Alaska Bar Rag, the Anchorage Daily News reported on its website that the Department of Justice has advised former Alaska State Senate President Ben Stevens that the ex-lawmaker will not face charges in the federal investigation into public corruption in the 49th State.]
Why didn’t that dog bark?
We must clear substantial underbrush in answering this question. Understand that nothing in this analysis is based on inside information from decision-makers within the federal government. Recognize that nothing written here is intended to accuse anyone of committing a crime. Ignore the controversy stirred by Ben Stevens getting more than $715,000 for three years of part-time work as chief executive of the 2001 Special Olympics World Winter Games. Set aside any surprise over the fact that he served four years on the Select Committee on Legislative Ethics.
Let’s skip any sense of regret or schadenfreude about this obviously intelligent and hard-working man’s meteoric career in business and public office, folks, and just focus as lawyers on how Ben Stevens escaped criminal charges.
It is not enough to whistle the Creedence Clearwater Revival song lyric “I ain’t no senator’s son.” Whatever protection (as well as career promotion) was afforded by having Ted Stevens as a father seemed to be over by 2008, when the iconic U.S. Senator got charged in a case that generated guilty verdicts on seven felonies before imploding less than six months later.
Nor does it work to suggest—as some observers have—that Ben Stevens made his own deal with the feds to give him immunity from prosecution. It’s not just that no evidence exists of such an agreement—there appears to be nothing that the former Anchorage Republican lawmaker ever gave the Justice Department to make such a deal plausible.
No, Ben Stevens’ avoidance of prosecution in the “POLAR PEN” probe seems to stem from a combination of luck, prudence, and hiding in plain sight.
Ben Stevens caught a big break when the Justice Department did not include him in the first wave of defendants charged in May of 2007 with crimes associated with VECO executives’ corruption of state legislators over oil-tax legislation debated the previous year. This omission might have been caused in part by the feds seeing the potential prosecution of Ben Stevens as a bargaining chip they could play later in the negotiations with his father.
Yet time did not turn out to be kind to the federal investigation into Alaska public corruption. The feds charged Ted Stevens without charging Ben Stevens, and the probe’s fortunes soured quickly after the jury returned guilty verdicts against Ted Stevens in October of 2008. The Ted Stevens prosecution collapsed in April of 2009 in the wake of revelations of failures to provide discovery, putting the government employees best informed about “POLAR PEN” under investigation themselves. Additional disclosures have dented the credibility of Allen and Smith, two of the prosecution’s key witnesses in previous trials. Last year’s U.S. Supreme Court decision in Skilling v. U.S. sharply pruned the scope of the honest services fraud statute, a favorite weapon wielded by federal prosecutors in public corruption cases that was used against half of the 12 defendants charged in the “POLAR PEN” probe.
The prosecutors might well have perceived additional problems with charging Ben Stevens even back when the feds were flying high in 2007, however. The combination of what appears to be his relative invisibility on incriminating tapes and his extensive financial disclosures may have saved him.
Ben Stevens received almost a quarter of a million dollars in fees from VECO while he was in the State Senate and also took positions as a legislator on oil taxes that VECO wanted him to take, but those facts do not by themselves constitute a crime. What was going on in Ben Stevens’ mind is where the action is in prosecuting him, as it often is in public corruption cases. (That’s also true in the broader category of white-collar crime cases, like that of his father.)
Prosecutors have found that the best way to show that a defendant in a public corruption case has criminal intent is by playing tapes that show him saying and/or doing things that make him look guilty. All the defendants that juries have returned guilty verdicts against in the Alaska public corruption cases have had damaging tapes of them played in front of the jury.
Tapes tend to trump other evidence. As one former federal prosecutor observed, the government attorneys in the “POLAR PEN” cases sometimes seemed primed merely to walk into court and push “PLAY,” and the feds might have thought they didn’t have enough incriminating tapes on Ben Stevens to go forward.
Unlike other legislators convicted in the probe, Ben Stevens might not have frequented the infamous VECO-rented Suite 604 in Juneau’s Baranof Hotel that the FBI bugged to such effect. Whether this conduct flows from a sensible desire to stay away from that “Animal House” atmosphere or from the family needs of a father of four, Ben Stevens’ apparent lack of a starring role in the FBI’s greatest hits has served him well.
Aside from whatever the more than 17,000 conversations the feds intercepted in the “POLAR PEN” probe may show about Ben Stevens, there is another problem the feds have in prosecuting him on offenses involving either VECO or fisheries. That problem is the fact that the former State Senator apparently disclosed all the income he collected for consulting and/or lobbying that he was legally required to disclose. You might think his conduct was unseemly and unsavory, but it’s likely that Ben Stevens would say that he is just a hard-working businessman who laid bare his income as the law required, both when he served as a federal lobbyist and later when he served as a state legislator.
As to all that money from VECO that came in to the legislator when his work product may look minimal or even non-existent, Ben Stevens might well say that he thought he was on retainer—a retainer that allowed Bill Allen to call Ben Stevens about work for VECO anytime 24 hours a day, seven days a week. Ben Stevens might add that it was not his problem that Allen seemed to call him so infrequently to work on matters such as advice on salvaging vessels.
Observers might point to the $983,807.66 in fees that Ben Stevens reported receiving for business services and/or management services from VECO and fishing interests alone during the five full calendar years he served as a legislator in comparison to the relatively small amounts involved in the cases that sent other lawmakers to prison. The sheer amount of money, however, is not all that matters.
A common thread in the cases against the state legislators convicted at trial in the “POLAR PEN” probe was what juries saw as clumsy attempts to conceal benefits: a bogus flooring invoice submitted by former Rep. Pete Kott (R.-Eagle River); a request to hide help on a credit card balance by former Rep. Vic Kohring (R.-Wasilla); a phony Website in the case of former Rep. Tom Anderson (R.-Anchorage). The contemporaneous cover-ups helped the juries find the guilty intent. (Reversals on appeal of the convictions of Kott and Kohring have led to re-trials being scheduled for late this year.)
With Ben Stevens, on the other hand, there appeared to be no subterfuge—all the income seems to have been reported. Although paper trails are often seen as trouble, a particular kind of paper trail—one shorn of detailed descriptions of tasks performed or time spent working—appears to have helped keep Ben Stevens out of trouble. The system could not handle that hiding in plain sight.
You might think that the story of Ben Stevens is a prime Alaska example of the maxim of columnist Michael Kinsley to the effect that the real scandal is not what’s illegal—it’s what’s legal. You might also think that not prosecuting Ben Stevens after getting Allen and Smith to plead guilty to bribing him might pose a particular public relations problem for the Department of Justice, but such a result would be neither illegal nor unprecedented. One well-known irony that involved verdicts by juries rather than the exercise of prosecutorial discretion comes from the notorious Teapot Dome scandal of the 1920s. Albert Fall was convicted for taking a bribe from oilman Edward Doheny while serving as Secretary of Interior, but Doheny was acquitted of the charge of bribing Fall.
Cliff Groh is a lifelong Alaskan who has worked as a prosecutor and represented some criminal defendants in his private practice. He is a lawyer and writer in Anchorage whose law practice focuses on the writing and revision of briefs and motions. Disclosures potentially relevant to his writings about the Alaska public corruption probe can be found at http://alaskacorruption.blogspot.com/2011/05/even-more-updated-biography-with-still.html on the Internet. Conversations with numerous people—including Anchorage lawyers Mark Regan and George Freeman—have sharpened the author’s thinking on this column’s subject.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Ben Stevens Will Not Be Charged, Feds Have Told Him
Anchorage--
The Department of Justice has told former Alaska State Senate President Ben Stevens (R.-Anchorage) that he will not be prosecuted in the federal government's probe into public corruption on the Last Frontier. Richard Mauer of the Anchorage Daily News has today's scoop here. Seventeen months ago, I discussed the federal government's substantial problems in prosecuting Ben Stevens here.
The Department of Justice has told former Alaska State Senate President Ben Stevens (R.-Anchorage) that he will not be prosecuted in the federal government's probe into public corruption on the Last Frontier. Richard Mauer of the Anchorage Daily News has today's scoop here. Seventeen months ago, I discussed the federal government's substantial problems in prosecuting Ben Stevens here.
Wednesday, July 27, 2011
Traffic Cop in the Sunshine: Vic Kohring Maneuvers to Get Advantages in the Negotiations with Prosecutors
Anchorage--
I'm busy today working on income-producing tasks, so all I can do is point you to Richard Mauer's story in the Anchorage Daily News about ex-State Rep. Vic Kohring's motions from yesterday. The attorney for the former Republican legislator from Wasilla asked the court to trim Kohring's indictment to reflect the mixed jury verdicts at his trial. The defense also requested the court to order ex-VECO CEO Bill Allen to announce whether he would assert his Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination to avoid answering any questions under oath about his alleged sexual crimes with underaged girls. More later.
I'm busy today working on income-producing tasks, so all I can do is point you to Richard Mauer's story in the Anchorage Daily News about ex-State Rep. Vic Kohring's motions from yesterday. The attorney for the former Republican legislator from Wasilla asked the court to trim Kohring's indictment to reflect the mixed jury verdicts at his trial. The defense also requested the court to order ex-VECO CEO Bill Allen to announce whether he would assert his Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination to avoid answering any questions under oath about his alleged sexual crimes with underaged girls. More later.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Bill Weimar Dodges a Big Bullet: Florida Prosecutor Drops Sex Abuse Charge
Homer, Alaska—
I’m late to this party, but I hope that being on my honeymoon provides some excuse. Around the time I was enjoying watermelon champagne soup with my bride in this delightful seaside town, the Anchorage Daily News was reporting that Florida authorities have dropped a charge of child sexual battery against Bill Weimar, a former Alaska corrections magnate convicted of felonies in the federal probe into public corruption on the Last Frontier.
I used to evaluate child sexual cases for a living when I was an assistant district attorney for the State of Alaska. These are difficult cases that pose unusual challenges, and Lisa Demer’s article makes it look like the Florida prosecutors went all-out to make the charge stick against Weimar before dismissing it.
With my special knowledge of child sexual abuse prosecutions, I am not here to say that the Florida authorities blundered. Let’s review the pros and cons of the prosecution’s case as set out in the coverage provided by the Anchorage Daily News and uncovered by my own reporting.
The prosecution had a six-year-old girl’s statements to her mother and an investigator that she had performed fellatio on Weimar at his request. This crime allegedly occurred when the child’s mother left the girl in Weimar’s care while the mother went to the airport.
The Florida authorities also had the fact that Weimar went to Cuba and then Mexico after being questioned by investigators about the allegations but before he was charged, a trip that prosecutors would want to characterize as flight reflecting consciousness of guilt.
And the government might also have had the advantage of exploiting Weimar’s shady background. It’s not just Weimar’s status as a convicted felon that the prosecutors might have been able to get in front of a jury. The ex-tycoon and powerbroker had a reputation among his long-time associates for committing various crimes he has never been charged with. I hasten to point out that Weimar was never before suspected of child sexual abuse, even among the most disappointed of his former friends. But there was some possibility that the jury might conclude that the defendant was a bad man who needed to be punished for something.
“Bill Weimar is a horse rustler. I’ve seen him rustle horses all over the state,” an Alaskan who spent a lot with Weimar for years told me when the news of the child abuse case arose. “Now he’s charged with horse rustling again. I don’t know if he rustled this horse, but if they hang him for it they’ll be hanging a horse rustler.”
So those were the things that the prosecution had going for it, but they didn’t seem to be enough for the Florida authorities. The recognition that the case was lacking seemed to prompt the government to push hard to make it stronger. The Florida authorities trolled for other victims of Weimar by placing notices in Alaska and Seattle, where the multimillionaire also lived. The prosecution also arranged for a surreptitiously recorded telephone call of Weimar, but the law school graduate made no admissions of guilt.
There was no medical or physical evidence to corroborate the child’s allegations, according to a prosecution memo explaining the case’s dismissal reported by the Anchorage Daily News. Particularly in the age of jurors who regularly watch TV shows like CSI, the prosecution’s argument that fellatio will often not leave traces might not been enough.
But the potential problems for the prosecution at trial didn’t end there. The prosecution also faced a defense argument that Weimar’s jaunt across the Caribbean on his yacht was the moving up of a previously planned vacation, not the desperate flight of a fugitive conscious of his guilt.
And my reporting has shown that the prosecution might have also had to deal with a defense attack that the little girl was manipulated by a parent who could be portrayed as having a pre-existing bias against Weimar.
The reactions of various people showed the feelings often surrounding child abuse cases and underscored the differences between them and other kinds of crimes. The child’s father told the Anchorage Daily News that he was disappointed the prosecution had dropped the case but relieved that his daughter didn’t have to testify in court.
"Based on a single statement by a child, a man can be arrested on his vacation in Mexico, with helicopters, gunships, dogs, blacked-out Suburbans and machine guns,” Weimar’s lawyer told Alaska’s largest newspaper. "Thrown into a jail in Mexico, transported to the border, handed over to the U.S. marshals, brought to a jail in Texas, thrown into a holding cell for a week or two without being able to contact his lawyer or know what's going on, and then transported in a van across the country that took almost 2 1/2 weeks going from county to county."
Although Weimar’s attorney complained that his client lost his reputation and “a small fortune,” the former Alaska powerhouse is very relieved today and knows that he is a very lucky man. If Weimar had been convicted of the crime he was charged with, he probably would have died in prison.
(This blog post was particularly improved by suggestions from a fine editor named Theresa Philbrick, who now doubles as my wife. And unless something really big happens, you’ll have to wait until next week for my analyses of the current state of play in the cases of Vic Kohring and Pete Kott, including their motions to move their trials out of Anchorage.)
I’m late to this party, but I hope that being on my honeymoon provides some excuse. Around the time I was enjoying watermelon champagne soup with my bride in this delightful seaside town, the Anchorage Daily News was reporting that Florida authorities have dropped a charge of child sexual battery against Bill Weimar, a former Alaska corrections magnate convicted of felonies in the federal probe into public corruption on the Last Frontier.
I used to evaluate child sexual cases for a living when I was an assistant district attorney for the State of Alaska. These are difficult cases that pose unusual challenges, and Lisa Demer’s article makes it look like the Florida prosecutors went all-out to make the charge stick against Weimar before dismissing it.
With my special knowledge of child sexual abuse prosecutions, I am not here to say that the Florida authorities blundered. Let’s review the pros and cons of the prosecution’s case as set out in the coverage provided by the Anchorage Daily News and uncovered by my own reporting.
The prosecution had a six-year-old girl’s statements to her mother and an investigator that she had performed fellatio on Weimar at his request. This crime allegedly occurred when the child’s mother left the girl in Weimar’s care while the mother went to the airport.
The Florida authorities also had the fact that Weimar went to Cuba and then Mexico after being questioned by investigators about the allegations but before he was charged, a trip that prosecutors would want to characterize as flight reflecting consciousness of guilt.
And the government might also have had the advantage of exploiting Weimar’s shady background. It’s not just Weimar’s status as a convicted felon that the prosecutors might have been able to get in front of a jury. The ex-tycoon and powerbroker had a reputation among his long-time associates for committing various crimes he has never been charged with. I hasten to point out that Weimar was never before suspected of child sexual abuse, even among the most disappointed of his former friends. But there was some possibility that the jury might conclude that the defendant was a bad man who needed to be punished for something.
“Bill Weimar is a horse rustler. I’ve seen him rustle horses all over the state,” an Alaskan who spent a lot with Weimar for years told me when the news of the child abuse case arose. “Now he’s charged with horse rustling again. I don’t know if he rustled this horse, but if they hang him for it they’ll be hanging a horse rustler.”
So those were the things that the prosecution had going for it, but they didn’t seem to be enough for the Florida authorities. The recognition that the case was lacking seemed to prompt the government to push hard to make it stronger. The Florida authorities trolled for other victims of Weimar by placing notices in Alaska and Seattle, where the multimillionaire also lived. The prosecution also arranged for a surreptitiously recorded telephone call of Weimar, but the law school graduate made no admissions of guilt.
There was no medical or physical evidence to corroborate the child’s allegations, according to a prosecution memo explaining the case’s dismissal reported by the Anchorage Daily News. Particularly in the age of jurors who regularly watch TV shows like CSI, the prosecution’s argument that fellatio will often not leave traces might not been enough.
But the potential problems for the prosecution at trial didn’t end there. The prosecution also faced a defense argument that Weimar’s jaunt across the Caribbean on his yacht was the moving up of a previously planned vacation, not the desperate flight of a fugitive conscious of his guilt.
And my reporting has shown that the prosecution might have also had to deal with a defense attack that the little girl was manipulated by a parent who could be portrayed as having a pre-existing bias against Weimar.
The reactions of various people showed the feelings often surrounding child abuse cases and underscored the differences between them and other kinds of crimes. The child’s father told the Anchorage Daily News that he was disappointed the prosecution had dropped the case but relieved that his daughter didn’t have to testify in court.
"Based on a single statement by a child, a man can be arrested on his vacation in Mexico, with helicopters, gunships, dogs, blacked-out Suburbans and machine guns,” Weimar’s lawyer told Alaska’s largest newspaper. "Thrown into a jail in Mexico, transported to the border, handed over to the U.S. marshals, brought to a jail in Texas, thrown into a holding cell for a week or two without being able to contact his lawyer or know what's going on, and then transported in a van across the country that took almost 2 1/2 weeks going from county to county."
Although Weimar’s attorney complained that his client lost his reputation and “a small fortune,” the former Alaska powerhouse is very relieved today and knows that he is a very lucky man. If Weimar had been convicted of the crime he was charged with, he probably would have died in prison.
(This blog post was particularly improved by suggestions from a fine editor named Theresa Philbrick, who now doubles as my wife. And unless something really big happens, you’ll have to wait until next week for my analyses of the current state of play in the cases of Vic Kohring and Pete Kott, including their motions to move their trials out of Anchorage.)
Friday, July 8, 2011
Vic Kohring Asks for Trial Outside of Alaska
Anchorage--
Citing heavy and strongly unfavorable publicity over the last half-decade, the attorney for former State Rep. Vic Kohring (R.-Wasilla) asked the court to move his trial out of Alaska. The re-trial on public corruption charges is currently scheduled to start in Anchorage on October 31 of this year. The ex-lawmaker's motion for change of venue does not request a specific location for the trial, but suggests that it should be held somewhere within the boundaries of the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals, the federal appellate court for the West.
Blogging will continue to be a little light while I recover from my wedding last week. (To paraphrase the writer Seth Mnookin about his own nuptials, it surprised the hell out of me as well.)
Citing heavy and strongly unfavorable publicity over the last half-decade, the attorney for former State Rep. Vic Kohring (R.-Wasilla) asked the court to move his trial out of Alaska. The re-trial on public corruption charges is currently scheduled to start in Anchorage on October 31 of this year. The ex-lawmaker's motion for change of venue does not request a specific location for the trial, but suggests that it should be held somewhere within the boundaries of the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals, the federal appellate court for the West.
Blogging will continue to be a little light while I recover from my wedding last week. (To paraphrase the writer Seth Mnookin about his own nuptials, it surprised the hell out of me as well.)
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