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Elie Honig - Hatchet Man: How Bill Barr Broke the Prosecutors Code and Corrupted the Justice Department

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Elie Honig Hatchet Man: How Bill Barr Broke the Prosecutors Code and Corrupted the Justice Department
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To my mom and dad
Contents
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Dedication
  4. The Prosecutors Code: Earn Your Stripes
  5. Confirmation
  6. The Prosecutors Code: Impartiality
  7. The Mueller Investigation
  8. The Prosecutors Code: Take a Shot
  9. Ukraine
  10. The Prosecutors Code: Podium Privilege
  11. Michael Flynn
  12. The Prosecutors Code: Protect the Process
  13. Roger Stone
  14. The Prosecutors Code: Independence
  15. SDNY Takeover
  16. The Prosecutors Code: Business, Never Personal
  17. E. Jean Carroll
  18. The Prosecutors Code: Know Your Role
  19. Lafayette Square Park
  20. The Prosecutors Code: Take the Facts as They Are
  21. The Durham Investigation: Investigate the Investigators
  22. The Prosecutors Code: Own It, Fix It
  23. The 2020 Election: Endgame
  24. Culture Warrior
  25. The Road Back
  26. The Prosecutors Code: Humility
  27. Acknowledgments
  28. Index
  29. About the Author
  30. Copyright
  31. About the Publisher
  1. i
  2. ii
  3. iii
  4. v
  5. ix
  6. ix
  7. x
  8. iv
The Prosecutors Code
Earn Your Stripes
Any prosecutors first trial is a blur of terror, self-doubt, confusion, fleeting moments of competence, worry, a bit more terror, and then, ultimately, catharsis. The second trial gets a bit easier, and things gradually smooth out from there. Its the same basic pattern, the same grind and pressure, but eventually you build up some calluses and you learn to calm your nerves and even relish the fight. But the first trialthats pure, uncut panic.
When I walked into our courthouse war room on the first morning of my first trial as a prosecutor for the Southern District of New York, my supervisor, Rich Sullivan, took one look at me and said, What the hell are you wearing? I was confused. I had deliberately dressed in the standard SDNY male prosecutors uniform: conservative navy-blue suit, white dress shirt, red tie, black loafers. The problem, it seems, was with the fitted, slip-on look of my dress shoes.
No laces? Not in front of a jury. Find different ones for tomorrow, he snapped.
Sullivannow a federal appellate judgewas one of the most respected prosecutors in the office, a true believer in the criminal justice process and a trial assassin who expected perfection in all things, from everyone. Sullivan had seen it all, and he knew all the rulesthe ones in the books and the unwritten code of things you must do and those you just dont. Never refer to the judge as you; its always Your Honor or the Court. Move around the courtroom a bit, but do not lay your hand on the railing of the jury box; thats their territory, not yours. Its okay to smile, but no laughing out loud in front of the jury, even if something funny happens. No drinking in front of the jury, except for water from a small paper cup, and only if your voice is about to crack. No laceless shoes, apparently, was one that I had not yet learned.
A few hours later, I rose to give my first opening statement. An office veteran had told me that, when introducing the defendant to the jury during an opening, you should lock eyes with him, and whoever blinks first, loses.
This is Robert Ortiz, I said, walking toward the defendants table, pointing. I stared right at him. Tough-guy showdown time. Ortiz was a few years older than I was, mid-thirties, shaved head, crooked grin. He didnt blink. Glared right back at me, through me. I held his gaze for a few seconds and conceded the macho stare-down, turning back to the jury. Hes here on trial before you, I continued, because the NYPD caught him red-handed with a loaded gun stuck in his waistband and a fake police badge hanging around his neck. His plan was to use that gun and badge to pretend to be a police officer and rob a cocaine dealer.
The trial should have taken about a week, maybe two. It took a month and a half. Nothing went to plan. The defense attorney fell into a manhole while walking her dog one weekend, breaking her orbital socket and necessitating a few days of delay. (Shed finish the trial wearing dark wraparound sunglasses indoors and using a cane to get around the courtroom; talk about earning sympathy points from the jury.) One of our key witnesses disappeared for a week. The NYPD detective who had found the gun in Ortizs waistband was so sinister on the witness stand that Sullivan, who had been trying cases for over a decade, later told me, He came off like Darth frickin Vader up there. (Sullivan, unlike me and most of our SDNY colleagues, rarely cursed.)
Eventually, mercifully, the trial ended. The jury deliberated for four long days before sending out a note to the judge: We have a verdict. Everyone hustled back to the courtroom. This wasnt the trial of the century or even the trial of the week at the SDNY, but I was having a full nervous systemtype response; I consciously tried to slow my own breathing. Once everyone was back in place in the courtroomjudge up on the bench, Sullivan and me at the front prosecutors table, Ortiz and his lawyer behind us at the defense table, Ortizs family arrayed in the gallerythe jury filed in.
Some trial lawyers claim you can tell what the jurors have decided by watching them come back into the courtroom before the verdict, but if they were giving any clues that day, I wasnt seeing them. Sullivan, seemingly amused at how nervous I was over a relatively small-potatoes casehed been through many verdicts, on far bigger mattersleaned over and whispered, Can you believe they really do it like this? I knew better than to laugh by this point. Remember, Sullivan added, growing more pointed, whatever they decideno reaction whatsoever.
Foreperson of the jury, on count one, conspiracy to commit robbery, how do you find? the judges clerk asked.
Not guilty came the response.
Well, thats that, I thought. Im going to lose my first trial, after the cops found this guy with a gun in his pants and a badge around his neck. Im terrible at this job. They should fire me. Probably will. But, as Sullivan had instructed, I didnt blink.
On count two, illegal possession of a firearm by a person with a prior felony, how do you find?
It seemed like the foreperson waited an extra half beat. Guilty, he said.
I could sense shoulders sagging at the defense table, and one of Ortizs family members yelled from the gallery, Noooo, thats bullshit! Again, no reaction from mein part because I simply wasnt quite sure how to feel.
Minutes later, after the courtroom cleared and we were in the elevator heading back to the trial war room, I asked Sullivan, So, was that a win or a loss?
This isnt the NFL, he replied. We dont do wins and losses. The jury gave its verdict, and we respect it. Thats our justice system at work.
That was my first trial at the SDNY. Id do fourteen more, eventually trying public officials for bribery, human traffickers for buying and selling young sex workers, and Mafia bosses for racketeering, extortion, robbery, and murder. Id argue more than twenty cases in the Second Circuit Court of Appeals, grilled by brilliant, unrelenting three-judge panels. In all, as a federal prosecutor for over eight years, I prosecuted hundreds of cases, maybe over a thousand, and later in my tenure at the SDNY, I supervised dozens of other prosecutors handling many more. I then served for five and a half years as director of the New Jersey Division of Criminal Justice, the criminal arm of the state Attorney Generals Office, where I oversaw five-hundred-plus prosecutors, detectives, and other staff who collectively prosecuted about a thousand cases per year.
The learning curve as a prosecutor is almost impossibly, exhilaratingly steep. You get thrown right into the mix, and you learn largely by failing. Every little thing Rich Sullivan taught me in that first SDNY trial stayed with me for my next fourteen years on the job and beyond. And I learned new lessons in every case that followedfrom other prosecutors, of course, but also from judges, defense lawyers, law enforcement agents, victim services experts, even from certain defendants. In this profession, nothing comes easy. You have to earn your stripes as a prosecutor, and book learning alone doesnt cut it.
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