Golden (59 page)

“But the most cynical behavior in all this, the most appalling, is the fact that Governor Blagojevich tried to sell the appointment to the Senate seat vacated by Presidentelect Obama,” Fitzgerald said. “The conduct would make Lincoln roll over in his grave.”

Blagojevich had described the seat as “bleeping golden,” Fitzgerald said. He wasn't giving it up for nothing. “Those are his words, not our characterization, other than with regard to the bleep.”

The governor had sought a number of things for the seat, the prosecutor said, including a cabinet post, an ambassadorship, or a job heading a foundation. In another scheme, Blagojevich had considered a bid to trade the seat for $1.5 million in campaign money. He had been recorded not being offended by the offer but worrying about whether it would be paid. “He wasn't against the corrupt deal; he was against being stiffed in the corrupt deal,” said Fitzgerald. Blagojevich had told an intermediary to be careful when reaching out to the person who had made the offer. “That's the governor of Illinois,” he said.

And Fitzgerald would go on to thank the
Tribune,
noting the paper had delayed reporting on some aspects of the investigation, allowing the taping to get off the ground. The newspaper's editor, Gerould Kern, later answered by explaining that prosecutors at times had asserted that disclosing some information would have jeopardized the probe. “In isolated instances, we granted the requests, but other requests were refused.” Some blamed the newspaper for forcing authorities to arrest the governor when they did. But that was not the case. Blagojevich's arrest date was chosen at least a week before he was taken into custody.

FBI boss Grant was also at the press conference, reminding reporters that George Ryan had been convicted less than three years earlier. The federal authorities involved in that effort had hoped it had sent a clear signal that no one could sell their office, but apparently that message hadn't been received. Grant had seen a lot since arriving in Chicago about four years before. “A lot of you were in the audience, asked me the question of whether or not Illinois is the most corrupt state in the United States,” Grant said. “But I can tell you one thing: if it isn't the most corrupt state in the United States, it's certainly one hell of a competitor.”

On December 10, both Obama and Jackson Jr. denied knowledge of Blagojevich's alleged bid to barter with them over the Senate seat. Obama said he had never had direct talks with Blagojevich, told investigators he wasn't aware of the governor's schemes, and issued a report later in the month on his staff's contact with the governor. Emanuel had been the president's point person on the matter, and Obama acknowledged he had given four names to his new chief of staff to deliver to Blagojevich for consideration. But Obama and those around him said they were satisfied no one on their side of the ball
had done anything inappropriate with Blagojevich. It was more about monitoring the erratic governor of Illinois and trying to influence him—as much as that was even possible—to choose someone who could hold on to the seat. Blagojevich was wound up over who would be the next senator from Illinois, but that didn't mean Obama was thinking about it night and day, too.

“There was so much on his plate then, and he was not fixated on that particular issue,” Axelrod recalled later. Obama was an incoming president choosing a cabinet and getting ready to take over a country that was engaged in two foreign wars and facing a growing financial crisis. “That was not one of the top things on his mind.”

As for Jackson, he said he didn't know about any offer of cash for his appointment.

“I thought mistakenly I had a chance and was being considered because I had earned it. Despite what he may have been looking for, that's all I had to offer,” Jackson said. And he would keep up his denials, despite Raghu Nayak later telling federal authorities that the congressman was present for talks on offering Blagojevich up to $6 million in fund-raising. But the biggest fallout for Jackson would come from something else Nayak said. The
Sun-Times
was first to report the Indian businessman told authorities he had twice paid to fly a Jackson mistress from Washington to Chicago, a hostess at a cigar and martini bar. The news story would derail thoughts Jackson had of running for Chicago mayor in 2011.

With the criminal case promising to be unique in state history, Sorosky was going to need a defense team, and one of Chicago's legendary lawyers was soon in the mix. Ed Genson had been a top defense lawyer in the city seemingly from the dawn of time and had represented a wide spectrum of white collar criminals. But Blagojevich didn't stop there. He and Sorosky remembered the performance of a young lawyer named Sam Adam Jr. at the criminal trial of R & B superstar R. Kelly, who had been accused in a child porn case. Genson had been part of that team also and had credited the young Adam with winning the case. If the governor ever got into real trouble, the men had agreed, Adam would be the way to go. The funny, brassy, and bombastic young lawyer had grown up in the halls of the city's Criminal Courts Building at Twenty-Sixth Street and California, as his father, Sam Adam Sr., prowled the halls as one of the city's best-known criminal defense lawyers. The governor knew him as well. Many years earlier, when Blagojevich was a lawyer working for Sorosky, he was sometimes excited when he got a chance to do a criminal case. But in one instance he was
turned away when a client told him no thanks, “I hired the best lawyer in town—Sam Adam.”

By 2008, the older Adam's best years probably were behind him, but he still had a quick legal mind and a likable air. He was eclectic to say the least, with sport coats that were sometimes a bit frayed, Masters green or rose colored, and too tight, but he had a great gift for reading people and the ability to force a chuckle even from his opponents in court—never mind that he would be a vicious adversary once a jury got in the box. And it was the same with witnesses. He charmed them at first, and then left them a quivering pile of ash by the time he was done. Many in the city remembered him for defending US Representative Mel Reynolds in a high-profile sexual assault case.

Adam and his son were masters of the street fight and would have been perfectly at home in the era of capers, crooks, and gamesmanship depicted in the musical
Chicago.
Adam Jr. had played checkers as a boy with courtroom deputies and watched his father stomp around courtrooms like a thespian. He was born to follow in his father's footsteps, though one of his first legal stops had been as a green state's attorney in Wisconsin, where he went to school. But that didn't last, as he apologized to one of the first women he got a conviction on in traffic court. Back in Chicago, he hit the ground running, piling up clients and walking the courtroom halls like an outgoing, good-looking teen who just discovered high school. He couldn't walk three feet in the building without running into someone he knew, giving an overemphasized handshake to judges, reporters, and even some cops. “Twenty-Sixth and Cal” was a world unto itself, with its own rules and mores, where lawyers were often paid in wads of cash by their clients two seconds before court began. The younger Adam was once paid with a Cadillac by a client, complete with spokes.

Adam Jr. was a quick study, milking every bit of his humor in court, sometimes just believing the jury would know what he meant even if few legal observers would. He would often just scream, “Come on!” to make a point and had defended R. Kelly by telling jurors the singer wouldn't have carried around illicit videotapes like “the porno Santa Claus.” At a bond hearing for a man accused of murder after his wife disappeared, Adam showed up with missing posters with the woman's image on them, passing them out to reporters and putting on a show for news cameras.

Genson and the older Adam had worked together for decades and had usually agreed on legal strategy, but that wasn't to be the case when it came
to Blagojevich. In an early meeting with all the lawyers involved in defending the governor, Genson was the one who was adamant about stepping down and beginning to quietly angle a way out of the case—or at least toward an outcome that was OK for the rest of Blagojevich's life. It was more the federal way. Lie low. Don't do anything to poke the government in the eye.

But Adam Sr. didn't like it.

“Wait a minute. He doesn't have to resign,” he said. “Why should he resign?”

To Adam, it made Blagojevich look guiltier in the open court of public opinion. Some in the case would come to believe that Genson had a longstanding relationship with Illinois Senate President John Cullerton and that he had promised Cullerton he would get Blagojevich to step down and not appoint a senator. Genson would deny the charge, but legislators already were pressing a deal that Blagojevich give up his detail and continue to get paid by the state, while giving up his powers. Adam wanted to tap into Blagojevich's fiery energy and willingness to fight. The governor had never quietly backed away from a challenge before; why should he now? He should continue to be the governor, Adam thought, and that included appointing a senator.

Genson thought that was ridiculous. Blagojevich should never appoint someone, he argued, in part because the Senate would probably consider it a tainted pick and not seat the person anyway. Adam thought the seat once held by Carol Moseley Braun and Obama should go to an African American, and Adam did not believe the Senate would have the guts to keep that person from being seated.

The first choice of Blagojevich and his lawyers was Eric Whitaker, who was among the names Blagojevich had thrown around during the fall, but the defense team was hampered from reaching him that December because he was on vacation with the Obamas. State Senator Rickey Hendon was also on the list, but the team ultimately decided on US Representative Danny Davis just before Christmas. Davis said he would think about it but came back a couple of days later to say he still had work to do in his district and would decline.

It was Adam Jr. who had the next idea—Roland Burris, a former comptroller and Illinois attorney general.

The politician had already expressed some interest in the fall, speaking with Robert about fund-raising and indicating he'd like to be considered for the seat. But Burris hadn't been hopeful about raising anything, and Robert
hadn't gone into detail about their exchange with the governor, who in turn didn't raise a flag with his lawyers. It was Adam Jr. who went to Burris, because he had known his children for years. “If the governor wants me, have him call me,” Burris answered.

When Genson found out, he was unequivocal; if Blagojevich appointed someone, he would resign from the defense team. It was Genson's stern position that Blagojevich still shouldn't be taking a hostile stance. The attorney was bouncing between hearings in Chicago and an impeachment trial that was under way in Springfield, where Genson argued he was fighting shadows because he wasn't allowed to call witnesses. Meanwhile, the feds were turning over to state lawmakers snippets from their tapes that they thought could be used to make a case for Blagojevich to be removed from office.

It was after a court hearing on the release of tapes in federal court in Chicago that Genson was asked whether he knew that the governor was giving a press conference promising to fight every step of the way through court.

“The heart and soul of this has been a struggle of me against the system,” Blagojevich said. He was planning to do a series of national TV appearances to state his case:
Good Morning America, Larry King Live,
anywhere that would have him.

And that was it for Genson. He never insisted a client obey him, but they at least had to listen, he told reporters. “I wish the governor good luck and Godspeed,” he said, before leaving a voicemail for his onetime friend and partner, Adam Sr., breaking ties for good.

After Sam Adam Jr. left his house, Roland Burris called Fred Lebed, his close friend and adviser. It was around six o'clock in the evening on a Friday, but Burris had exciting news.

“Blagojevich just offered me the Senate seat,” Burris said. “They said, ‘If asked by Rod would you consider the offer?' What do you think I should do?”

Lebed's first advice was to not talk about it with anybody unless they both agreed. This was huge news, and while Burris had been angling for this Senate seat since even before Obama was elected president, it was important to keep this sort of information contained. Blagojevich was toxic, and there was also no guarantee the appointee would get seated by the remaining senators.

“Just keep it between us,” Lebed told Burris.

The next afternoon, though, Burris couldn't keep his mouth shut. Attending an event at the Ramada Inn in the South Side neighborhood of Hyde Park, an ebullient Burris encountered dozens of friends and occasional supporters, including several ministers, activists, and political consultants. Burris told many of them about the proposal and asked them what they thought he should do. By the end of the event, nearly all of the two hundred people there had heard about it.