Breach of Trust

26

Chris Moody kept his eyes on me as the FBI agent played the next intercepted conversation.

“You’ve done good work so far. I’ve seen your work product. The memo on the DOC sanitation project-the two bidders who underbid Higgins Sanitation.”

I did a slow burn. It was the voice of Greg Connolly, speaking to me in his office earlier today.

“Those bidders were well qualified,” I said in response.

“Course they were,” Connolly said. “Course they were. That’s why I’m saying, good job.”

It was pretty clear how this was lining up now. From Moody’s perspective, I was admitting to Greg Connolly that I knew those bidders were well qualified, and yet there was a memo with my name on it saying the exact opposite. I was admitting, that is, to deliberately giving a false legal opinion to further a crime-directing state business to an undeserving company that had given campaign contributions to Governor Snow.

And the recording wasn’t finished, either.

“Charlie talked to you about the buses, too,” Connolly went on. “I saw that analysis you did.”

“There’s no way that’s a sole-source,” I said. “Providing a bus? A hundred companies could do it.”

“So, again, good job on that. You’ll do very well here, Jason, if you want to.”

The tape shut off. That was all they had, but it was more than enough, if they chose to believe that I had authored those memos in the form they now appeared. And they were definitely choosing to believe that.

“I didn’t write either of those memos,” I repeated. “Someone took those memos and changed them. Connolly may have been talking about the doctored memo when he was telling me ‘good job,’ but I didn’t know that. I thought he approved the memo that I wrote.”

Moody raised an eyebrow. “Is that what you’d believe, if you were me, Counselor?” He strolled around my living room. “It sounds to me like you impressed the chairman with your creative ways to get the favored companies their contracts, and it also sounds to me like you admitted that your legal conclusions were bogus. And that, Mr. Kolarich, sure sounds like fraud and conspiracy to me.”

“And why would I do that?” I added. “Even if I were inclined to do that, what would I get out of it?”

“Why would you do that. . why would you do that. .” Moody looked around the room at the other agents, like everyone was in on the joke except for me.

“I see you filed an appearance in the Hauser Construction case today,” he said to me.

My jaw did a few rotations. I couldn’t see it, not yet, but I had an idea.

“Jack Hauser,” he said. “The guy who hired you today? Minority partner in Higgins Sanitation? His other business, the construction company, needs a lawyer and suddenly turns to a guy with absolutely no experience in construction law? And, lo and behold, the lawyer he picks is the same lawyer who just helped him bypass two lower bidders to get a sweetheart prison sanitation contract.”

I was overcome with anger-at Cimino and at myself. Looking back, Hauser had seemed to be coming to me as if I were his only option. What had he said, when I’d quoted him three hundred an hour? Well, you’re hired, obviously, he’d said. I mean, okay, fine, I’ll hire you, but-any way to knock that number down? It was like he knew he had no choice, and he was pleading for mercy on the hourly rate.

And when I’d asked him how he got my name, he looked at me like we both knew that answer, like he couldn’t understand why I’d be asking.

Jack Hauser, it was now clear, had been sent to me. Cimino had told him that there would be a price to getting that prison contract-besides a campaign contribution to the governor-and that price was legal business for me, the lawyer who supposedly had made it happen. Cimino was cutting me in. This was how it worked. Everyone got a piece. Apparently, I was supposed to understand that.

I’d just taken a kickback without even knowing it.

Moody took the only remaining empty seat, nearest me, and leaned forward on his knees. “This is a criminal enterprise that makes Hector Almundo and the Cannibals look like the Girl Scouts of America. Connolly and Cimino are steering state contracts away from deserving companies to people who contribute to the governor’s campaign fund. I know it, Kolarich. I fucking know it. And I’m going to prove it. And you’re going to help me. Because if you don’t, you’ll be sitting next to all of them at trial. You can try to convince the jury that you’re the only honest one of the bunch of scumbags. You, the one who asked to be part of this-who used Hector Almundo to get you inside. Maybe you’ll be the one guy at the table who walks. But I wouldn’t like your chances, Counselor.”

I watched Moody, thinking through my options.

“What’s Cimino going to say at trial?” Moody went on. “And Connolly. ‘Advice of counsel,’ that’s what they’re going to say. They’re going to say they relied in good faith on you, their lawyer, for the actions they took. Everyone at that defense table is going to take a big dump on Jason Kolarich.”

He was right, of course. I’d be lined up at trial with a ring of criminals, all of whom would be busy pointing the finger at me.

“Chris,” I said, “you missed a spot on your face.”

He drew back. He fought every instinct to wipe at his face. “What?”

“You still have a little egg on your face from blowing the Almundo case. I mean, that’s what this is all about, right? You’ve had a hard-on for me ever since the not-guilty.”

Moody didn’t crack, not for a second; he had way too much of an upper hand here. Instead, he smiled. “If it eases the pain, Kolarich, go ahead and fantasize. But I wouldn’t want to be you right now.”

I looked away, my mind racing. I found a picture of my wife and child on the bookcase and stared it a long time.

“Looks like I’m going to have to beat your ass in court,” I said. “Again.”

Moody’s eyes did that rapid-blink thing I remembered. He thought for a moment and nodded. “Hope you can say the same for that partner of yours-what’s her name, Agent Tucker?”

“Tasker,” said the FBI agent. “Shauna Tasker.”

“Right, Shauna Tasker. Sounds like she got a taste of that Hauser Construction work, too.” He scratched his chin in mock contemplation. “What do you think, Jason? Does that make her a co-conspirator?”

I steeled myself, kept my voice low and even. “Keep her out of this. She has nothing to do with this.”

“She does now.”

We locked eyes. This was the highlight of Christopher Moody’s year, putting the screws to me. He wasn’t even trying to hide it.

Shauna. I thought I was paying her back, for once, by including her in some legal work I had drummed up. Instead, she was possibly in the soup along with me. I wasn’t sure of that, and neither was Moody, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that he could dirty her up without even prosecuting her. The same day he slapped the PCB with a federal subpoena, he’d hit Shauna with one and make sure the newspapers didn’t miss the connection. And if he had any kind of a good-faith basis to do so, he’d indict her and effectively ruin her career. Whether she was guilty or innocent would be a lost detail. He knew all of this, and he knew I knew, too.

“Keep her out of this, Chris,” I said.

He shrugged. “That decision isn’t mine. It’s yours.” He looked at the other agents in the room. “Let’s give Jason some time to think about this, guys.” He pushed himself out of the chair. The lot of them moved toward the front door. Moody stopped at the edge of the living room and flipped a business card in my direction. “But I better be hearing from you tomorrow, Jason,” he said. “Or you and your girlfriend will be hearing from us.”