CHAPTER 19

SUPER RAT

t was one of those sweltering early-August days, a Tuesday, and the island of Manhattan was being smothered by a soupy air mass of such stillness and oppressiveness that by ten a.m. you could literally feelthe atmosphere on your skin. But inside the law offices of De Feis O'Connell & Rose, perfection!The building's air conditioner was working overtime as the three of us went about discussing the events of the last seven days.

Unlike my lawyers, I was dressed for the weather, in a white polo shirt, tan golf shorts, and leather boating moccasins. And, of course, I also wore socks, which concealed my ankle bracelet from the casual glance of a nosy voyeur. Right now Magnum had center stage and was in the middle of explaining the outcome of his negotiations with my good friend the Bastard.

“Obstruction of justice,” he declared proudly, as he leaned back in his high-back leather chair. “You plead guilty to one count and do an extra thirty months in jail. But”—and he held up his right index finger—”you still get your 5K letter, which means we avoid Armageddon.” He nodded a single time. “It's a terrific result, Jordan, especially when you consider the nature of who we're dealing with.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, “and especially when you consider the magnitude of my idiocy.” I shook my head in amazement. “I'll tell you, this has to go down as the dumbest thing I've ever done in my entire life.” I shook my head some more. “And there's no close seconds.” I turned to the Yale-man and offered him a warm smile.

I said to him, “If it weren't for you, Nick, I don't think I would've made it through that day. You were amazing—from start to finish.”

The Yale-man raised his eyebrows. “That's very nice of you to say, but are you prepared to swear to God about that?” He started chuckling. “Or are you willing to take a lie-detector test?”

“Fuck off, Nick! That's what allguilty people say when you put their backs to the wall. It's a biological reflex, no different than a jelly fish stinging a passing swimmer.” I shrugged. “It can't be blamed.”

“Who?” Magnum asked. “The jellyfish?”

“Yes, the jellyfish, and me neither, in this case. I did what any intelligent man in my position would do: I lied through my teeth until I had no choice but to confess. Then I begged forgiveness.” I shrugged again. “There's no other way.”

“Maybe so,” said the Yale-man, “but Joel knows that too.”

“Knows what?”

“That allguilty people swear to God.”

“Ahhh… but do all guilty people offer to take a lie-detector test?” I gave the Yale-man a knowing wink. “You see? I'm different, Nick!”

Nothing but silence.

“Anyway, what can I say? You guys are the best! And you, Nick.… well, I'm so indebted to you that I'm willing to overlook that last insult and move forward with this relationship.” Now I looked at Magnum. “So, tell me, Greg: When must I plead guilty to this latest crime of mine?”

“Sometime in the fall,” he answered, “although we're gonna drag it out as long as possible. Remember, the obstruction charge won't be covered by your 5K letter, so Gleeson will have to throw the book at you.”

But I had acted like a man!“Well, two and a half years isn't that high a price to pay for my self-respect. In fact, one day maybe I can explain all this to Carter and he'll be proud of me”—strange looks from my lawyers—”or maybe not. Anyway, I'd rather get the whole thing over with than delay it. You know what I'm saying?”

Magnum stared at me with his lips pursed. I looked over at the Yale-man, and he was staring at me the same way. “Okay,” I said, “what am I missing here?”

“Welllll….” declared the towering tenor, “let me start by explaining how things went down at the U.S. Attorney's Office yesterday. There were five of us in the meeting. Nick and me, and Joel, of course, and then Coleman, as well as someone named Ron White, who just became head of the criminal division.”

I perked up: “Yeah, I know Ron White! He debriefed me once in another case. He's a really nice guy. Too bad he'snot my AUSA, instead of Joel.”

Magnum nodded in agreement. “Yes, that would be nice, but, unfortunately, he's not. So it's Joel we have to deal with, and, likewise, it's Joel who has to deal with you. So as nice a guy as Ron White is, he'll still defer to Joel.”

“I thought Joel was leaving the office soon?”

“He is,” said Magnum, “and that's why we're not rushing your guilty plea. See, if we can delay it until afterhe leaves, then we can try renegotiating with the next AUSA, who, hopefully”—Magnum winked—”will be more sympathetic to our cause.”

“That's brilliant!” I exclaimed—and what a two-tiered justice system, I thought. In fact, it was absolutely mind-boggling. If I had been poor or even middle class, for that matter, I would be sitting in jail right now, freezing my ass off and facing the better part of thirty years.

The Yale-man said, “Our first goal will be to try to get the obstruction charge reduced to lying to a federal officer, which is far less serious.”

“It carries no mandatory jail time,” Magnum added, with a tiny wink.

“Correct,” said the Yale-man, with a starchy shrug. “Of course, it would be even nicer if we could convince them to drop the whole thing, although I don't think that's realistic. Joel already let the genie out of the bottle, so it would look indecisiveif the U.S. Attorney's Office did a complete one-eighty.”

Playing devil's advocate, I said, “What you're saying sounds logical, but what if the next AUSA is even worse than Joel? Can they go back on the current deal?”

“Two good questions,” answered Magnum. “Under no circumstances can your position get worse. Obstruction of justice is too harsh asit is, and I'm sure Ron White would agree with me on that. And, almost anyone would be better than Joel Cohen, save Michele Adelman. But she won't be the one taking over this case, because she's already got her hands tied up terrorizing Victor Wang. Most AUSAs would have let you off with a stern warning, but, for whatever reason, Joel has it out for you.”

The Yale-man said, “I think Joel is just too emotionally involved in your case.”

That, and he's a fucking asshole! I thought.

“In other words,” continued the Yale-man, “he's chased you for such a long time that he can't help but look at you as ‘the crook you used to be,’ for lack of a better term, rather than the ‘upstanding citizen that you are now,’ which is an accurate term.”

Now Magnum chimed in: “Nick is right on the money with this, and that's why it's so important to wait things out. The next AUSA will have no history with you; the only person they'll know is the Jordan Belfort who's part of Team USA.”

“And what about Coleman?” I asked. “He chased me longer than everyone else combined.”

Nick said, “It's different for an FBI agent, especially in a case like yours, where there's no violence involved. You had a reputation for being a brilliant guy, so Coleman respects you. You weren't just some schnook who broke the law.”

“And FYI,” added Magnum, “it's because of Coleman, mostly, that Joel didn't break your agreement. He stood up for you in a very big way yesterday. He made the case that, with the exception of the Dave Beall note, you'd been a first-class cooperator. And he also said that you guys are working on a very big case right now. You know what he's talking about?”

I nodded. “Yeah; Gaito and Brennan. We haven't had much luck so far, but that's about to change. I'm actually meeting with Coleman right after this, and I have a little gift for him.”

“What's that?” asked Magnum.