Archive for the ‘Investigations’ Category

On this latest Miranda thing…

Monday, April 22nd, 2013

So after catching one of the guys thought to have committed the Boston Marathon bombing (and a string of violent acts thereafter), the government said they weren’t going to read him his rights. Not just yet. Invoking the “public safety exception” to the Miranda rule, they said they wanted a chance to find out who he was working with, where other bombs might be, etc., before telling him he’s allowed to clam up.

Predictably, a lot of people were upset about this. But why?

Yes, it was wrong of the administration to say that. But not for the reasons everyone’s saying. Not because it’s further eroding our rights (it’s not), but because it’s just stupid.

It conflates intelligence with evidence — stupid. It misses the whole point of Miranda — stupid. It defeats the purpose of intel — stupid. And pisses off those who love the Constitution — stupid.

And of course, it’s nothing new.

About three years ago, the Obama administration made it DOJ policy to permit “unwarned interrogation” not only in situations involving immediate public safety (“where’s the bomb?”), but also cases where cops believe getting intel outweighs your right to remain silent.

The 2010 memorandum states:

There may be exceptional cases in which, although all relevant public safety questions have been asked, agents nonetheless conclude that continued unwarned interrogation is necessary to collect valuable and timely intelligence not related to any immediate threat, and that the government’s interest in obtaining this intelligence outweighs the disadvantages of proceeding with unwarned interrogation. [4] In these instances, agents should seek SAC approval to proceed with unwarned interrogation after the public safety questioning is concluded. Whenever feasible, the SAC will consult with FBI-HQ (including OGC) and Department of Justice attorneys before granting approval. Presentment of an arrestee may not be delayed simply to continue the interrogation, unless the defendant has timely waived prompt presentment.

On top of that, the Obama administration wanted Congress to specifically pass legislation allowing longer interrogations before Miranda need be invoked. (A brilliant writer blogged about that memo a couple of years ago, concluding that it was “An Unnecessary Rule.”)

The administration is just trying to have its cake and eat it, too. Miranda does not prevent them from gathering intelligence. The Fifth Amendment does not prevent them from gathering intelligence. They can interrogate people all they want, in any way they want, and the Constitution doesn’t say jack about it. But if they force you to incriminate yourself against your own will, they’re just not allowed to use those statements against you to prove your guilt in a criminal proceeding. That doesn’t mean they can’t force you to incriminate yourself, and it doesn’t mean they can’t use those statements for other purposes.

But the government wants to be able to do both. It wants to be able to override your free will, force you to condemn yourself, and use your words both to prevent future attacks (laudable) and to convict you so the State can punish you (contemptible).

Their saying this out loud is idiotic, because everyone sees how contemptible it is, and the government looks even more like an enemy of the public, rather than its protector. And of course giving a heads-up to the real bad guys about what we’ll be doing. (And announcing it in a specific case, as they did this week, just lets everyone in the bomber’s organization know that we’re learning everything that guy could tell us. Stupid. You never want the enemy to know how much you know.)

But it’s also stupid because it misses the ENTIRE POINT of Miranda.

Sorry to break this to you, but Miranda isn’t about protecting your rights. It never was.

Miranda is about giving the police a free pass. It always has been.

The Fifth Amendment is there to make sure we don’t have another Star Chamber. We don’t want the government using its power to override your free will, and make you confess to a crime so it can punish you. Lots of confessions are purely voluntary. In fact, most probably are. But sometimes the government has to force it out of you, and we don’t want that to happen.

But it’s hard for courts to tell voluntary confessions from involuntary ones. They have to look at facts and assess things on a case-by-case basis. That’s hard. And it’s hard for police to know if they’re crossing the line, when the line is different for every individual. So the Miranda rule creates an easy line that applies to everyone:

Say the magic words, and the law presumes that the confession was voluntary.

See how easy that was? Not hard. Easy.

All a cop has to do is recite the Miranda litany as they’re taking a suspect into custody, and BAM! they get to interrogate all they want, and everything the guy says can be used in evidence at his trial.

It is hard to imagine a more pro-law-enforcement rule. In one stroke, Miranda dispensed with actual voluntariness, and replaced it with “as a matter of law” pretend voluntariness.

And yet law enforcement — even our nation’s top officials, who went to law school and everything — astoundingly persist in thinking Miranda is bad for them. They think that, if you mirandize someone, they’ll shut up, and you’ll lose all that delicious intel and lovely evidence. (NYPD officers are actually trained NOT to mirandize people on arrest, for this very reason. Yeah, TV ain’t real life.)

But here’s the kicker: People don’t clam up when they’ve been read their rights. The people who clam up remain silent regardless of whether they’ve been mirandized or not. In fact, there is evidence that people are MORE likely to talk once they’ve been read their rights. They don’t know what those rights mean, but they know they’ve got them, and TV has conditioned them to expect the magic words. So when they hear them, they relax. All is well. Their rights are being acknowledged. And they start blabbing.

So not only do the magic words let you use all those statements, compelled or not, but they actually get the statements flowing.

So wanting to hold off on saying them is just stupid. Counterproductive. Idiotic.

So there’s lots of reasons to dislike what the government is saying in this case. But eroding our rights just isn’t one of them.

You lost those rights in 1966.

Statistics and the Serial Killer

Monday, January 16th, 2012

Andrei Chikatilo was serial killer who murdered at least 56 young women and children starting in 1978 until his capture in 1990. The details are as bad as one might expect, and apparently the murders and mutilations were how he achieved sexual release. His killings seemed unpredictable to investigators at the time, and even in retrospect there appears to be no clear pattern.

Now, however, UCLA mathematicians Mikhail Simkin and Vwani Roychowdhury have published a paper where they see not only a pattern, but one that is meaningful to those who might want to stop other serial killers. In their paper, “Stochastic Modeling of a Serial Killer,” published a couple of days ago, Simkin and Roychowdhury discovered that the killings fit a pattern known as a “power law distribution.” One of many kinds of statistical distribution (the bell curve being another), power law distributions are often found for out-of-the-ordinary events like earthquakes, great wealth, website popularity and the like.

First, they looked at a timeline of his killings. They saw apparently random periods of inactivity. Each time Chikatilo started killing again, however, the next murder would come soon after. And the one after that even sooner. And so on and so on until the next period of no killing.

The study doesn’t take account of the reasons for two of the longer pauses — Chikatilo’s first arrest and detention on suspicion of being the killer, and the period where the media started reporting on the investigation — but the reasons aren’t important. What’s important is being able to make some kind of sense out of the seemingly random events.

What they noticed was that, when these ever-increasing murders were plotted on a logarithmic scale, they came out in almost a straight line — indicating the possibility that a power law might be at work here. What’s more than that, they noticed that the curve’s exponent of 1.4 was pretty darn close to the 1.5 found for the power curve of epileptic seizures. What if (they wondered) the killings fit a neurological pattern? What if, like epileptic seizures, psychotic events like these killings came about when an unusually large number of neurons in the brain started firing together?

So they plugged in some givens of what is known about how neurons work, modeled on how epilepsy works. They made the model a little more realistic — seizures come unbidden when the conditions are met, but killers probably need some time to plan once their brain is ready for the next attack. Then they ran a simulation.

The simulated probabilities for the length of time between murders tracked the real-life data almost perfectly.

In other words, if you know when the last murder took place, you can calculate the probability that another killing will happen today. And the more time has passed since the last one, the less likely another will happen.

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Fascinating stuff, but so what? The so what is that (more…)

Profiling Doesn’t Work? More Profiling!

Saturday, April 23rd, 2011

When we were just starting out in the law, we frankly had no problem with the concept of profiling.  Not racial profiling — that’s just a logical absurdity along the lines of “most people who commit crime X are of race Y, therefore it’s reasonable to suspect people of race Y of committing crime X.”  We’re talking about profiling as the concept that a significant number of people who commit crime X exhibit the combination of traits A, B and C, which is a combination rarely encountered otherwise, and therefore if one were to look for people exhibiting traits A, B and C, then one might have a better chance of catching someone guilty of crime X.

Intuitively, this sounds reasonable.  If we were to know, for example, that certain serial arsonists are motivated by a sexual mania, that these arsonists tend to remain near the scene to masturbate or so they can masturbate to the memory later, that they tend to have spotty work and relationship histories, and that they tend to have crappy cars — well then, there’s nothing wrong in letting the cops scan the crowd of spectators at a fire, question any who seem to be getting a kick out of it, and investigate those who are single, unemployed, and drive a beater.  (This is an actual profile, by the way.  We didn’t make this up.)

And emotionally, profiling sounds wonderful.  Catching a psychopath is often difficult, because they don’t play by the same rules as the rest of us.  Wouldn’t it be nice if there were some, er, rules that we could follow — a formula of some kind — that would make it easier to identify and catch them?

As we said, in our early years we thought this was a great concept.  Whenever we encountered some findings that certain traits had been identified with this type of serial killer, or that type of terrorist, we thought it was fantastic.  But we didn’t think too critically about it.  And for sure we never bothered to look for the underlying data, much less examine the methodology used to determine how strongly these traits correlated with perpetrators of that crime.

The problem is, nobody else was doing that, either.

Profiling only works if the profile is accurate.  That should go without saying.  But it has become plain over the years that the various profiles out there are not accurate.  They are not based on actual data, but instead only on anecdotes.  (And as we like to say, the plural of “anecdote” is not “data.”)  Nor are these profiles based on any significant sample size.  No profiling study ever did even a simple regression analysis to determine whether any particular trait happens to be a meaningful variable.

We figured this out soon enough, of course.  After our first couple of years with the DA’s office, we were already joking about the silliness of profiles.  It was almost a party game to figure out which psychopathic profile we and our friends happened to fit (secure in the knowledge that hardly any of us were really psychopaths).

And the rest of the world soon caught on.  The Onion did a piece entitled “Crime Reporter Finds Way of Linking Warehouse Fire to Depraved Sex Act.”  Malcolm Gladwell wrote an outstanding piece in 2007 called “Dangerous Minds: Criminal Profiling Made Easy,” in which he solidly debunked the whole profiling scam, showing how there’s no science or statistics behind it, and even the data it’s based on is mostly useless.

It’s now fairly common knowledge that criminal profiling is about as useful as a Tarot deck.  So of course the FBI has stopped using it, right?

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Wrong.

As a matter of fact, they’re expanding!  Just as the feds have (disastrously) tried to use street-crime investigative techniques like wiretaps to go after white-collar offenders, they are now (equally idiotically) starting to use criminal profiling to go after people for white-collar offenses.

Matthew Goldstein wrote an excellent piece on this for Reuters this week, called “From Hannibal Lecter to Bernie Madoff: FBI profilers famous for tracking serial killers are turning their attention to white collar felons.”  This (and the Gladwell piece linked to above) should be required reading for any white-collar defense lawyer now practicing.  When the Galleon case first came down, we were one of a handful of people doing white-collar defense who also had plenty of wiretap experience; now, of course, more of us are learning it the hard way.  Hopefully, with this new profiling issue, more of us will be prepared to deal with it ahead of time.  (And perhaps even nip it in the bud.  Like Barney Fife, we’re a big fan of bud-nipping.)

The agents in the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit are the ones who profile serial killers and the like.  “The hope is,” reports Goldstein, that they “can get into the minds of fraudsters and see what makes them tick.”

“This originally started out as an attempt to find a way to prevent and detect Ponzi schemes,” said Peter Grupe, the FBI’s assistant special agent in New York in charge of white collar investigations.  “But it developed into (more…)

What’s the remedy for blatant wiretapping violations by the feds? Finger-wagging, sure. But suppression? No way.

Thursday, April 21st, 2011

 

Wiretaps are arguably the greatest invasion of privacy that the government can do.  They’re listening in on private conversations, not intended to be overheard by anyone else.  So to get a wiretapping warrant, the government has to do more than for a normal search warrant.  There has to be more than just probable cause that they’re likely to find evidence of a crime.  Only certain crimes count.  There has to be good reason to do a wiretap as opposed to some other less-invasive investigative technique.  Only particular conversations can be sought, over particular phones.  Etc. etc. etc.

Not only is there a heavier burden to meet before a wire can be granted, the government has to comply with some very strict rules as they carry out the eavesdropping.  On that issue of particular conversations, for example, they have to do what they can to minimize the amount of non-relevant or privileged conversations that get listened to.  This is called “minimization.”  When it appears that a call isn’t pertinent (i.e., it isn’t evidence of a crime), or that it’s privileged (as a call with one’s attorney, doctor or spouse), then they have to stop listening and recording.  The call gets “minimized.”

The cops or agents who are monitoring the wire have to do more than just act in good faith.  Their minimization has to be objectively reasonable — the law only cares what an ordinarily reasonable person have thought in the circumstances, not what the cop himself happened to think.  So a properly-run wire is going to have minimization procedures that are spelled out at the beginning of the investigation, in writing, signed by every agent before they get to monitor any calls, with a reference copy there at the monitoring location just in case there are any questions later.  The prosecutor is going to be involved throughout, and it’s really the prosecutor’s responsibility to make sure that everyone knows what they can and cannot do.  It’s also the prosecutor’s job to review all the calls that were intercepted and, among other things, make sure that the cops are minimizing properly.

But what happens if the government doesn’t do that?  What happens if oblivious or malicious agents record and listen to all kinds of personal calls that have nothing to do with the crime they’re investigating?  What happens if a lazy or inexperienced prosecutor fails to nip it in the bud, or if a malicious prosecutor allows it to keep happening?

It’s an important issue these days, because the feds have been doing exactly that.

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As we’ve pointed out a few times, the feds have been all gung-ho for doing wires on white-collar stuff these days, but the white-collar teams aren’t exactly the most experienced at doing wiretaps properly.  For one thing, the feds hardly (more…)

White-Collar Wiretaps

Friday, December 17th, 2010

This’ll be quick, because we’re pretty busy working on a wiretap case, which is always time-consuming if done right.  But as our mind’s on that topic anyway, we thought we’d quickly point out that the latest round of insider-trading cases is again largely derived from wiretaps.  Here’s a roundup over at the WSJ’s law blog.

We just wanted to jump in and point out that just because there were wiretaps, by no stretch of the imagination does that mean the case is a slam dunk.  There are all kinds of ways that agents and prosecutors can and do screw up wire cases.  If properly challenged, the recordings and all evidence gotten as a result of them can get thrown out, which pretty much kills the case.  Don’t go saying this can’t happen, because we happen to see it plenty.  (The one we’re working on right now is a prime example of how not to conduct a wiretap investigation, for example.)

But even if the evidence doesn’t get suppressed, that doesn’t mean it can’t be successfully attacked at trial.  Cross-examining taped evidence isn’t the easiest skill to master, but it’s definitely doable.

If you’re really interested, you can go take our CLE lecture on how to defend these kinds of cases over at West Legal Ed Center (shameless plug).  Or if you prefer, here’s a quick cut-and-paste from a longer post we put up the first time this happened, when the Galleon case broke (original post here):

Wiretap evidence is anything but a sure thing. We know. We did wires for years in the Rackets Bureau of the Manhattan DA’s office, and now we defend them. We’ve taught a nationwide CLE on how to successfully defend them for West LegalEdCenter. Wiretaps are not a sure thing.

They can be defeated with technicalities. Eavesdropping is probably the greatest invasion of privacy that the government can inflict, and so we make law enforcement jump through all kinds of hoops before they are allowed to get an eavesdropping warrant. There are so many i’s to dot and t’s to cross, that the feds hardly use wiretaps in the first place. You’d think otherwise, but (more…)

The Feds’ Insider-Trading Gamble

Tuesday, November 23rd, 2010

 

The feds are really ramping up their insider-trading enforcement.  But instead of going after real insiders, they’re going after consultants and investors who use them.  This is a big risk for the feds, and they could lose big.

It started a year ago, when the feds indicted a bunch of people in what we collectively refer to as the “Galleon” case.  For the first time ever, the feds had used wiretaps in a white-collar investigation.  It looked like the gloves were coming off, and the feds were going to start getting down and dirty, using street-crime law enforcement techniques to go after Wall Streeters.

Then in May, Lanny Breuer announced a “new era of heightened white-collar crime enforcement — an era marked by increased resources, increased information-sharing, increased cooperation and coordination, and tough penalties for corporations and individuals alike.”  In the wake of an economic bubble bursting, they were gunning for the suits who had profited.  And unlike the last time they tried, in the wake of the dot-com bubble, now there was no 9-11 to divert their resources.

To some extent, such a strategy is like shooting fish in a barrel.  Real frauds like Ponzi schemes and the like, which can hide amidst a rising market, come to light pretty easily when the market collapses.  And we saw a lot of those prosecutions in the past couple of years.

But to a larger extent, it’s a political strategy.  Going after those who make money by moving it around, instead of creating something of value, is always going to be a populist move.  It wins brownie points for the DOJ and the president.

And now comes the takedown.

On Saturday, the Wall Street Journal reported that the feds had been conducting a 3-year investigation into possible insider trading.  They had been approaching people out of the blue, telling them they were in trouble, and suggesting that they wear a wire (with at least a couple people refusing to do so, and then emailing all their clients to tell them what had just happened).  The feds had been subpoenaing records for a while.  The targets seemed to be Goldman Sachs and consultants who matched knowledgeable industry leaders with hedge fund managers looking for an edge.

That seems to have forced the feds’ hand, and on Monday they started executing search warrants at Diamondback Capital Management and Level Global Investors, which had been identified in the Saturday story.  Then they raided Loch Capital Management later in the day.  We hear that more raids are coming, and as we speak a lot of investment firms are doing some heavy internal reviews, to figure out if they might be on the list.

Because nobody knows what kind of behavior the feds are going after.  And if past performance is any indicator of present results, the feds may just well be going after perfectly innocent behavior.

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The reason is that the feds don’t seem to understand the (more…)

How the Feds Enforce the FCPA

Monday, October 25th, 2010

 

The other day, we drew a contrast between the Manhattan DA’s new public integrity unit and the way the feds go after FCPA violations, and some folks asked just what exactly the feds do in these cases.  That’s a good question.  Especially now, as the FCPA has become a major star of the feds’ redoubled efforts to fight white-collar crime.

The Foreign Corrupt Practices Act, among other things, says it’s against the law for any U.S. citizen or business to pay a bribe to a foreign official.  The penalties can be staggering, with fines calculated as the amount of income the briber hoped to receive down the road as a result of paying the bribe.  “Any” U.S. citizen means just that: anybody, not just a corporate executive.  A “foreign official” means anyone with a government job — including people working in industries that are government-owned or government-controlled.

“Bribery” includes giving anything of value in the hopes of getting something in return.  It’s really a broad standard.  A bribe doesn’t have to be an explicit tit-for-tat, and it doesn’t have to be just for the purpose of landing a choice contract.  A bribe can be just a nice dinner at a fancy restaurant that might make get you looked on with more favor next time contracts are being awarded.  A bribe can be a “facilitation payment” to a petty bureaucrat, some grease to ensure that you are allowed to do what you are already entitled to do (this, by the way, is an example of where Wikipedia, at least as of today, get things wrong).  See here for a more thorough discussion.

As with many white-collar offenses, this one is enforced by both the SEC and the DOJ.  As of this year, the SEC now has a special unit dedicated to investigating and punishing suspected offenders.  As we mentioned the other day, the point is to keep as much expertise in the institutional memory, and also to better coordinate investigation and enforcement.  On the criminal side, the DOJ’s Frauds Section is the main enforcer as a matter of law, though some local U.S. Attorney’s offices like the SDNY will handle most of the work in-house.

Over the past few years, the number of FCPA cases has risen dramatically, in part because the (more…)

On the Manhattan DA’s New Public Integrity Unit

Friday, October 22nd, 2010

 

As we were coming out of court the other afternoon, we got a call from one of the nice folks over at the WSJ, asking us what we thought about the Manhattan DA’s new Public Integrity unit.  We didn’t even know it had been formed — though we had heard Vance talk about the idea on the campaign trail.  The soon-to-be new DA had talked of ideas for a variety of new units, some of which we thought were good ideas (like the Wrongful Convictions unit, which would create office-wide policies while also investigating innocence claims), and some of which we thought were more public-relations than practical (like the Public Integrity unit).

As proposed by Vance, we said to the reporter, the Public Integrity unit didn’t really seem necessary.  It was to be a sub-unit of the Rackets Bureau, which has already been investigating and prosecuting public corruption cases with a fair amount of success for many years.  Carving out a specialty unit isn’t going to increase the number of cases they get, or improve their success rate, or have any extra effect on corruption beyond the usual.  It’s not like this is an area of crime that was being ignored.  Far from it.

It’s not going to increase the number of cases coming in, because that has nothing to do with whether there’s a special unit or not.  Public corruption cases are hard to come by, because usually the only people who know about the bribery are the ones benefiting from it.  And they’re not likely to self-report.  The DOI does what it can with the resources it’s got to ferret out a case here and there, but the reality is that (for the most part) law enforcement sort of lucks into these cases.

If you want to have an effect on public corruption, the trick is to either get magical surveillance powers to spot all the bribes going on, or else (more…)

Why Innocent People Confess

Tuesday, September 14th, 2010

It should come as no surprise to anyone with any experience in criminal law that perfectly innocent people will sometimes confess to crimes they did not commit.  Perhaps they were in a suggestible state, and the police led them to believe they’d done it.  Maybe they were broken by the interrogation and said whatever the cops wanted to hear, just to end it.  Maybe they didn’t really confess, but had their words taken out of context (or invented) by the cops.  (For tips on defending cases involving a confession, see our CLE lecture over at West Legal Ed Center.)

In recent years, there has been growing attention to the phenomenon of false confessions, and folks have begun investigating the reasons why an innocent person will not only confess to a crime he didn’t commit, but will often do so with such detail that it seems impossible for them not to have committed it.  The New York Times had a decent article yesterday on this very phenomenon.  The article reports on a study by UVA (wahoowa!) law professor Brandon Garrett, into reasons why an innocent person may sometimes confess with extraordinary detail.

To defense lawyers, the new research is eye opening. “In the past, if somebody confessed, that was the end,” said Peter J. Neufeld, a founder of the Innocence Project, an organization based in Manhattan. “You couldn’t imagine going forward.”

The notion that such detailed confessions might be deemed voluntary because the defendants were not beaten or coerced suggests that courts should not simply look at whether confessions are voluntary, Mr. Neufeld said. “They should look at (more…)

Myth #2: Cops Can’t Lie

Friday, June 18th, 2010

For as long as we can remember, the word on the street has always been that cops cannot lie.  So if you’re doing a drug deal with an undercover cop, and you ask him point blank if he’s a police officer, then he has to tell you the truth.  He might try to technically get out of it by saying yes in a sarcastic tone of voice, but he has to be able to testify later on that he did say he was a cop.

And for as long as we can remember, we thought that was dumber than dirt.  The first time we heard this, back in our dim and distant teens, we imagined something like this:

ruacop

It just made no sense.  And, of course, it’s simply not true.  No undercover cop is ever going to jeopardize his investigation or his safety by admitting to the fact that he (or she) is a cop.  And there is no rule anywhere that says they have to.

But even so, this myth has persisted.  We can’t count how many cases we’ve dealt with where (more…)

A Complete List of Goldman Sachs Crimes

Saturday, May 1st, 2010

Update: New York Investigating CDS Brokers

The SEC and DOJ’s investigations of Goldman Sachs have been big news for a couple of weeks now. We tend not to post right away on stories like that, because we don’t want to be yet another one of those blogs that just tries to jump on the bandwagon, simply repeating news without adding anything of value to the conversation. So we like to wait until we have some analysis to add.

In the Goldman Sachs case, as pretty much everyone reading this is aware by now, the SEC says Goldman created a mortgage-based investment, sold it to investors, and then bet against it by shorting it themselves. They also say Goldman messed up by letting hedge fund manager John Paulson pick some of the assets, despite the fact that his fund was betting heavily against the housing bubble (and ultimately made a killing when it burst). The SEC filed its suit about 2 weeks ago. Then during this past week, they referred it to the DOJ for criminal investigation. The fine folks at the Southern District are now looking into whether any criminal acts took place.

We’re sure the SDNY is going to be a lot more careful than, say, the Eastern District was with the Bear Stearns case. [Full Disclosure: We represented one of the BSAM fund managers in that case, who was ultimately not indicted.] You know, maybe actually reading emails in context, actually figuring out how hedging is supposed to work, stuff like that?

Nevertheless, it’s a tough job. So as a good citizen, unaffiliated with the case in any way, we’d like to make their job easier. We’ve pored over the factual allegations that have been made, and delved into the facts that have been publicly disclosed so far. And after a great deal of legal analysis and number-crunching (yes, we do this for fun), here is a complete list of all criminal activity that we have been able to identify at Goldman Sachs here:

1).

You’re welcome, guys. Hope this helps!

Something to Tide You Over

Tuesday, November 17th, 2009

writer-boxed-flipped

We apologize to our loyal readers for the unusual delay between posts. We’ve been on trial, and you know how that goes. Trial is all-consuming. And then there’s all the work that piles up in the meantime. And the wife and kids need a token appearance from us once in a while. So the blog just isn’t happening while we’re on trial.

And that’s how it should be, of course.

So yeah, we’ve been on trial since November 2. We keep predicting that it will end soon, but it never does. With any luck, we’ll have closing arguments tomorrow. But we said the same thing yesterday, and on Friday, and on Thursday… And we’re going to have to take Thursday off if the jury’s still not back with a verdict then, because we’re giving our next “Hope for Hopeless Cases” lecture for West Legal Ed Center that day. So yeah, this case could easily last through Friday.

To tide you over until we finally get a chance to blog again, here’s a link to our latest article in Forbes magazine.

Link

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Excerpt:
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Expert View
BEAR STEARNS DEFENSE HOLDS LESSONS FOR EXECS

Going on offense is the best defense in white-collar cases.

It didn’t take long after the housing boom turned bust and trillions of dollars of wealth had gone poof that the public was out for blood. The government needed to “do something” about the mess.

An obvious point of focus were the securities firms Bear Stearns (now a part of JPMorgan Chase) and Lehman Brothers (now a part of Barclays) which blew up in quick succession. From there, it does not take a huge leap of logic to understand how federal prosecutors set their sights on Ralph Cioffi and Matt Tannin, two former managers of Bear hedge funds who were plucked out of obscurity, paraded through a perp walk and unceremoniously read their rights as criminal defendants.

As their Nov. 10 acquittals attest, they didn’t actually commit any crimes. But that didn’t spare them from two years of hell during which they were investigated, indicted, vilified, prosecuted and put on trial. If they’d lost, that would have all been a picnic compared with the 20 years of prison time they would have faced.

If the case teaches us anything, it’s that such ordeals can befall executives–innocent and otherwise. If enough things go wrong on their watch, it’s not all that rare for bosses to find gung-ho prosecutors eager to indict them before all the facts are in.

That leads to the question: What can you do to protect yourself if you fall under the eye of a suspicious prosecutor? Here, the Bear Stearns case is instructive.

Lesson One
You’re on your own. If you ever find yourself on the receiving end of an indictment related to your professional activities, don’t count on your…

Continue reading

How the Court Should Rule in Shatzer

Thursday, October 8th, 2009

The Supreme Court heard a very important argument this week in the case of Maryland v. Shatzer. It was one of those situations where the oral argument makes a huge difference in the outcome of the case. We read the briefs earlier this month, and remarked to colleagues that both sides’ arguments seemed eminently reasonable. So reasonable that we couldn’t form a strong opinion either way.

But the oral arguments convinced us thoroughly: Both sides are stupid.

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The case involves custodial interrogation, and whether and when it can be started again after someone has asked for a lawyer.

When someone is in custody, and they ask for a lawyer, interrogation is supposed to stop. If the police keep questioning anyway, then the defendant’s answers cannot be used to prove the case against him.

So even if someone confesses to the crime at that point, the confession cannot be used to prove he did it. Even if there is no evidence of duress, and there is every reason to believe that the confession is perfectly reliable, it cannot be used.

The underlying policy is that our criminal justice system puts a greater value on not overriding someone’s free will. We don’t want people to be forced to hang themselves. Getting into someone’s mind, and making them testify against themselves, against their will, is abhorrent to us. It reeks of torture, the Inquisition and Star Chamber.

That explains why custodial interrogation gets the Miranda rights, but there is no similar concern with taking non-testimonial evidence from someone against their will. A breathalyzer, a blood test, a voice exemplar, a vial of spit — we don’t really care whether you want to provide the evidence or not. The evidence exists independently of your free will. But a confession during interrogation is solely a matter of free will.

And confessions are dramatic evidence, to be sure. Once evidence of a confession comes in at trial, it’s nigh impossible for a jury to think the defendant didn’t do it. It’s a game-ending bit of evidence, in most cases.

Police custody, in and of itself, is such an extreme and distressing situation that the law just presumes it to be coercive. If an objectively reasonable person would not have thought he was free to leave, then he’s being compelled to sit there and deal with the cops. There’s compulsion, because the cops can keep questioning you until you break, and confess. Maybe it’s a true confession, and maybe you’re just saying it to make it all stop, but either way your free will was overridden.

And so we have the Miranda rule, which says that defendants must be informed of their right to remain silent and the right to have a lawyer present during any custodial questioning. If someone’s questioned in custody without being given these warnings — even if they’re a respected jurist who already knew them — then his answers cannot be used against him. And if he is given the warnings, and exercises his right to remain silent or his right to counsel, but the police keep questioning him, then his answers cannot be used against him.

If the defendant says he won’t talk without a lawyer present, then allquestioning must cease. This is a per se exclusion, period. The police cannot re-start questioning unless the defendant himself initiates further discussion. Unlike the right to silence, which can be waived down the road after new Mirandawarnings, the right to a lawyer once asserted can never be waived again, no matter how many times the police re-Mirandize him. It can only be waived if the attorney is actually present at the time. That’s the principal rule of Edwards.

(Note that asking for a lawyer here is the same as saying you won’t talk without a lawyer present. Unlike the Sixth Amendment right to counsel, where once you’ve actually been charged with a crime you’re entitled to have a lawyer provided, this is the Fifth Amendment right to counsel. The cops don’t have to get you a lawyer, they just have to stop questioning you until you get one.)

This is a bright-line rule. Our jurisprudence likes bright-line rules here. We don’t want the cops to have to think about what they can and cannot do; we want them to know. We don’t want a balancing test of competing principles, because that means the courts would have to get involved and decide what can and cannot be done. It would have to be decided after the fact, on a case-by-case basis. Without a bright-line rule, the police would probably engage in more improper interrogations than otherwise, because who knows what some judge down the road might think was okay? And who knows whether the case would even get that far?

So bright-line rules here protect defendants’ interests, police interests, and the courts’ interests. And Edwards is nothing if not a bright-line rule.

The problem with bright-line rules is that they are absolute, they have no exceptions, and so unless they are narrowly-tailored they can have absurd results.

And that is why this week the Supreme Court heard the case of Maryland v. Shatzer.

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Six years ago, Michael Shatzer was in state prison, serving a lengthy sentence. Meanwhile, a social worker got a report that Shatzer had (before going to prison, obviously) forced his then-three-year-old son to perform fellatio on him. The social worker told the cops, and an officer came to the prison to talk to Shatzer about it.

Shatzer was taken to an interrogation room, and was given his Miranda rights. Shatzer asked for a lawyer, and the officer ended the interrogation. The officer went away, and Shatzer was taken out of the interrogation room and returned to his regular custody. The investigation was eventually closed.

Nearly three years passed. Shatzer remained in prison.

Now his son was a few years older, and was able to give more details about what had happened to him. The police began a new investigation, which was assigned to a new police officer.

The new officer went to the prison, Shatzer was taken to the interrogation room, and the officer Mirandized him.

This time, Shatzer waived his rights, and agreed to speak with the officer. He flatly denied the allegations that he had forced his son to perform fellatio on him. But he did admit to having masturbated in front of his little boy.

A few days later, the questioning continued. Shatzer was Mirandized again, and he again waived his rights. He took a polygraph test and failed it. Then he started crying and said “I didn’t force him. I didn’t force him.”

At this point, he finally asked for a lawyer, and the questioning ended.

Shatzer was prosecuted for sexually abusing his son. He tried to suppress his statements, on the grounds that he should never have been questioned the second time, under the Edwards rule. He’d asked for a lawyer, and that per se prohibition never evaporated.

The trial court said no, the statements could come in, because the intervening three years constituted a “break in custody” that ended the Edwards prohibition on further questioning. Custody had ended, so the compulsory situation had gone away. The new questioning was a new custodial interrogation justifying a new Miranda warning that was properly waived.

After Shatzer got convicted, the Maryland Court of Appeals reversed. The appellate court held that the passage of time cannot constitute a break in custody. The court held that, if there is a break-in-custody exception to Edwards, it first of all would have to mean something different than the break-in-custody exception for the right to remain silent, and secondly it wouldn’t have existed here anyway when Shatzer had remained in prison the whole time.

The state appealed to the Supreme Court, arguing that the Edwards prohibition must evaporate over time, so that a substantial lapse of time between interrogations would allow the cops to re-Mirandize and try again. The point of Edwards is to prevent the cops from “badgering” a defendant into answering questions without a lawyer, the state said. (At the end of its brief, Maryland even suggested that the bright-line rule ought to be overturned.)

Shatzer’s brief argued that the bright-line rule had to be maintained, to ensure that defendants aren’t coerced into making confessions. If a defendant asks for a lawyer, and all he gets is another reading of his rights, he’s hardly going to expect a second request for a lawyer to be effective, and so he might as well speak. It would undermine the whole point. And if a “break in custody” is all it takes to restart the Edwards rule, then all the cops would have to do is release, rearrest and repeat until the defendant finally gave in.

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Both merits briefs seemed eminently reasonable.

But the oral arguments were frankly idiotic. Both sides made absolutely unreasonable claims that could only undermine their arguments.

For example, Chief Justice Roberts let Maryland’s A.G. get three sentences out before cutting to the point: “A break in custody of one day, do you think that should be enough?” Maryland’s response: Yes.

Roberts pressed on: “So what if it’s repeatedly done? You know, you bring him in, you give him his Miranda rights, he says ‘I don’t want to talk,’ you let him go. You bring him in, give him his Miranda rights, he says ‘I don’t want to talk.” You know, just sort of catch-and-release, until he finally breaks down and says ‘all right, I’ll talk.” Maryland’s response: “We would suggest that the break of custody would be the end of the Edwards irrebuttable presumption.”

Shatzer’s position was even worse, if you can believe it.

The Public Defender opened her mouth to speak, and Justice Alito jumped down her throat. Her first words were that the Court couldn’t create any exceptions to the rule. Alito said, hold on, let’s say “someone is taken into custody in Maryland in 1999 and questioned for joy riding, [invokes his right to counsel, is] released from custody, and then in 2009 is taken into custody and questioned for murder in Montana…. Now does the Edwards rule apply to the second interrogation?” The lawyer’s response: “Yes it does, Justice Alito.”

As one might expect, the justices went to town on the lawyers. Scalia, as usual, got in some good laugh lines at their expense. We’ll leave the entire oral argument to your own reading enjoyment (you can read it here), but these opening exchanges sum it up pretty well.

Maryland’s position is idiotic. They want a bright-line rule that any break in custody ends the Edwards prohibition. It would allow precisely the catch-and-release badgering that Roberts suggested. They argued that, during the release period, if the defendant didn’t go out and get a lawyer, then they’ve essentially revoked the request to have an attorney present at any future questioning.

Shatzer’s position is equally idiotic, if not more so. He wants a bright-line rule that any invocation of the right to counsel essentially immunizes a defendant from any further police questioning in any subsequent action anywhere, for the rest of his life, whether or not the police could have even known about his prior invocation of the right. A police officer in Alaska would have to ascertain whether a suspect had ever been interrogated by police anywhere else in the country at any time in the suspect’s life, and whether the suspect had asked for a lawyer then. That’s flatly impossible and unrealistic.

Both of the parties claim that the existing bright-line rule might create absurdities in theory. To prevent them, they each propose reductio ad absurdum rules at the extreme ends of the spectrum, guaranteed to create absurdities in practice. Well done, folks.

(The lawyer for the United States, as amicus, did make an important point — that the whole purpose is to make sure people aren’t being compelled to incriminate themselves against their will — but the rest of his time was eaten up by nonsense about how long a break in custody would count as enough of a break to evaporate an assertion of the right to counsel.)

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So what should the rule actually be? Seriously, this is not rocket surgery here. The answer seems perfectly obvious:

1) If a suspect was in custody, was read his Miranda rights, and invoked his Fifth Amendment right to have a lawyer present during questioning…

2) And if there was a break in custody, so that an objectively reasonable person would have felt free to leave his questioners…

3) Then there is a rebuttable presumption that his invoked right to counsel continues to be invoked with respect to any subsequent questioning about the same underlying allegations.

4) The state can rebut this presumption with facts that demonstrate, by clear and convincing evidence, that the suspect no longer desired the presence of counsel during questioning. (This will necessarily be extremely rare, though not at all inconceivable.)

The rule could be streamlined even further, by deleting the phrase “there is a rebuttable presumption that” from #3, and deleting #4 altogether.

This rule provides all the protections that defendants, law enforcement and the courts require. At the same time, it avoids the absurdities of the existing bright-line rule, and of the more extreme bright-line rules proposed by the parties in this case.

Rats!

Tuesday, September 15th, 2009

rats

On our first day as a young Manhattan ADA, we were assigned to the office of the Special Narcotics Prosecutor for NYC. The purpose of Special Narcotics is to investigate and take down large-scale drug trafficking across the city. There were two parts to the office — the Special Investigations Bureau did tons of wiretaps, and was staffed by experienced prosecutors; the Trial Bureaus handled mostly street-level arrests, tons of them, in the hopes that some of those defendants would “flip” and provide information that could lead to a long-term investigation. We were assigned to a trial bureau.

We had competing feelings, at first. On the one hand, we were all gung-ho to do whatever small part we could, and were frankly itching to start trying cases. On the other hand, we were not at all eager to use informants. “Rats,” we believed, were not merely distasteful and disloyal, but were of dubious actual value. We were told in no uncertain terms that, if we weren’t going to use informants, then there was no way we’d ever be able to develop a big case.

(And just to be clear, by “informants” we don’t mean mere witnesses to a crime. We’re talking about defendants who are trying to get a more lenient sentence by helping to convict someone else.)

We spent the next five years in Special Narcotics, and sure enough dealt with more informants than we can count. Then we moved up to the Rackets Bureau of the Manhattan DA’s office, where we continued to develop and use informants for another five years. And though we were no George Smiley, we still got pretty good at it.

And sure enough, what they’d told us back on Day 1 was the truth: We never saw a case of any size that didn’t get started because of an informant. An informant is truly a prerequisite.

But at the same time, our gut feeling on Day 1 had also been correct: The vast majority of potential informants have zero value. We can’t imagine how many NYPD resources and sleepless ADA nights have been wasted dealing with useless informants, drafting and executing worthless search warrants, and running fruitless investigations.

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These days, we’re on the defense side, and we simply don’t represent informants. If a defendant wants to flip, that’s their business, but they can find someone else to represent them. We like to think our job is to keep people out of jail, not to help the prosecution put someone else in jail.

Now that’s just us. There are plenty of decent and honorable defense attorneys who represent informants. We’re not disparaging them in any way. It’s just our own personal preference not to do so ourselves.

And that’s not to say we won’t have clients who cooperate, especially in federal white-collar cases. Cooperation doesn’t need to mean informing on others or trying to get someone else in trouble. There are all kinds of ways for a corporation or executive to cooperate with an investigation without being a rat or a turncoat.

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So did we learn anything in all those years of developing and handling informants? Sure. More than enough to write a book or two, and certainly too much to set down in a blog post. But we don’t mind jotting down a few cautions that might be useful to our readers who might be working with or representing informants. (Defense counsel representing an informant has similar interests to those of the prosecutor — the informant only gets rewarded for results, so allowing him to screw the case is not in the client’s best interest.)

So here are a few things to be wary of:

* If it sounds too good to be true, it isn’t. The more kilos your informant claims to have seen inside that apartment, the more likely it is to house an elderly priest who’ll die of a heart attack when his door gets busted down. A street-level numbers runner who claims to have information about the leaders of an O.C. family is probably little more than a wannabe.

* Desperate people take desperate measures. Plenty of defendants would love dearly to be able to provide useful information, but unfortunately they don’t know any real crooks. At least none that they’re willing to inform on. It’s a sad truth that informants only get rewarded for results, not for efforts. So one frequently comes across the would-be informant who winds up trying to entrap friends and acquaintances into committing crimes. You run a serious risk of being duped yourself, and being party to that entrapment, if you’re not careful.

* Desperate people take even more desperate measures. Forget entrapment. Sometimes the would-be informant outright lies. Now your own integrity is at stake. So if a target letter went out, or an arrest has been made, be especially receptive to vociferous claims of innocence.

* An informant is never reliable. His information may be, on a given day, but he himself never is. He is an informant precisely because he is a criminal who is willing to sell out his friends and family. He is an informant in order to manipulate the system to his benefit. He is just as capable of manipulating you, and rest assured that is precisely what he’s trying to do.

* Watch out for an “informant” who is the actual culprit. Or who is a big fish trying to sell smaller fry.

* Ferret out whether the cops have made any promises on the side. Or worse yet, made payments or benefits to the informant beyond the scope of the deal. It’s a credibility-killer, especially if it comes out for the first time during testimony at trial.

* Nobody wants to make themselves look bad. So informants always, always hold back. Right about the time you think you’ve got the full story out of them, that’s where you need to presume there’s something serious they’ve held back that’s going to cause problems down the line.

* If it’s uncorroborated, presume it ain’t true. The best corroboration is physical evidence, photographs, and other non-testimonial items.

* Informants readily believe that law enforcement needs them, rather than the other way around. It does them no good to believe this. It should go without saying that the prosecutor should shut this attitude down at every opportunity. But the informant’s defense counsel should also make sure to hammer home that the informant is in charge of nothing in this relationship.

Finally, for the law-enforcement folks out there, do not rest your case on the informant. As soon as you can, drop the informant and build your case using other means. Ideally, you want a case where the informant never has to testify at all. Get the informant to introduce an undercover agent. Use the informant to get you started on a pen register or wiretap. Use the informant to launch physical surveillance or whatever. But get that informant out of the case as soon as possible.

That’s enough for one post. Time to stop before this turns into either a rant or a dissertation. We’ve got work to do.

Hoist on Their Own Petard — How Forensic Accountants Catch Small-Time Scammers

Tuesday, August 11th, 2009

 

No law today. Let’s have a police procedural for a change. We’re in the mood for some white-collar stuff, so here goes.

Forget about the Madoff case. Most financial crimes are nowhere near as headline-worthy, nor do they involve such massive amounts of other people’s money. But smaller scams are just as likely to get prosecuted, and they’re just as much a felony as the big ones. And though the news may not report it, people get caught and convicted all the time.

And like Al Capone, the smaller scammers aren’t caught by the gun-toting detectives so much as by the green visor-wearing accountants.

It’s usually a case of self-incrimination. Defendants usually create the very evidence that puts them behind bars, in their financial books and records. Of course, most of them aren’t doing it on purpose. They’re not creating blatant records that flatly proclaim “here there be crimes.” Most take pains to avoid creating records of improper doings, and to conceal or camouflage the rest. But it is often those very attempts to hide their activities that wind up calling attention to them.

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Every law enforcement agent knows that, to catch the “bad guys,” you need to follow the money. Who wound up with the cash or the assets? How did the money get from person A to person B, and so on to Mr. X?

One easy way to start is to look at public documents. Lots of records get publicly filed, for anybody to look at, and they can be good leads. Does Mr. X own a house? Pull the deed from the county clerk’s office. There’s going to be information that leads to the mortgage itself, and then Mr. X’s bank records are just a subpoena away. Probate records lead to the estate, which leads to more bank records and real estate records. Does someone have a rap sheet already? Maybe they had to post bond in an earlier case. That’s going to show the source of the lien, and lead to more assets. Dun & Bradstreet and similar records can tell whether someone has a lien against Mr. X — such people are often more than willing to give more information to law enforcement. Heck, even newspapers can be a source of leads to get an investigation started.

Paper begets paper. Or computer data. It is nigh impossible to have dealings of any significance without some record being kept somewhere, in some form.

When following leads, the investigator ought to have an idea of what he’s looking at. What kind of business is this company in? Where are they located? What do they spend money on? The investigator can’t tell whether something is unusual unless he knows what the usual looks like.

Maybe this is a kickback scheme. If I am demanding kickbacks from you, or bribes, or extortion payments so I allow you to keep doing business with me, then maybe I don’t want that money coming directly to me. And maybe you don’t want it coming directly from you. So perhaps I set up a “consulting” company to receive payments from you. Or maybe you set up a “customer” company to make payments to me. Or perhaps we do both. Maybe we have lots of shell companies, or only one. If the investigator figures it out, though, our cautions might turn around to condemn us.

Maybe you pay me with a no-show job. If so, you’d better be careful about who is holding back my payroll checks or delivering them to me. And is my pay typical of my job? A steady, constant paycheck is more typical of an office worker than a blue-collar worker, after all. These are possible tipoffs to an investigator. And paper begets paper.

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So how else do they get the paper, apart from going to public records?

Subpoenas are the main stock-in-trade of the white-collar investigation team. Smart teams won’t subpoena the world, of course, because that just makes for far more work than necessary, while increasing the odds of tipping off Mr. X to the existence of the investigation. Instead, they’ll just limit their subpoenas to what they really need. Narrow requests also make more subpoenas necessary down the road, which keeps open a line of communication.

A shotgun subpoena followed by a narrower one just tips off defense attorneys like us. We see something like that, we have a chat with the client, and figure out what the investigators are probably looking for. We get all that extra time to prepare our defense.

When in doubt, utility bills are a common lead-generator, to figure out how someone is paying for their phone, cable, electricity, etc.

One thing they’ll probably want to see are old tax returns, especially for a business. Tax returns can be a mine of useful information, such as who formed the business, who the officers are, how much they get paid, who their accountant is (always a good person to interrog… ah, interview). And if the tax returns don’t match reality, well that’s another charge for the grand jury to hear, isn’t it?

The company’s accountant often did the tax returns for the owners and officers, too. Investigators can request the accountant’s retained copies of those returns, and find out all kinds of information about assets, mortgages, sources of income, etc.

Canceled checks are a high-want item. They’re one way of seeing who’s paying money to whom.

Bright investigators don’t settle for photocopies, but insist on originals. Critical information could have been whited out before copying. Photocopies are often illegible, and may not include the all-important information on the back of checks showing who deposited it and to what account.

In general, subpoenas are going to be issued to non-targets. There’s little point in asking the suspect to provide the evidence that will hang him. All it does is raise him up. And a savvy defense attorney is going to bring that client in to present the documents to the grand jury — because here in New York, for example, it is far too easy for the prosecutor to slip up and confer total transactional immunity on the client right there in the grand jury. (That’s a topic for a whole nother post.)

No, suspects aren’t usually the ones who get subpoenaed. They get searched.

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Search warrants are a unique chance for the investigators to get all that stuff they never would have gotten from a subpoena. The “second set of books,” rather than the official set they keep for the IRS and other outside eyes. The secret records. (Although these can sometimes be viewed by an undercover posing as a legitimate potential buyer of the business.)

That’s what the investigators are hoping for: a “smoking gun” document of some kind. Original documents with all the info that got whited out in the subpoena response. Records of illicit payments made, cash skimmed, investors gypped. Evidence that customers were told one thing, but reality was something else entirely. It may be buried somewhere in all those boxes of docs and all those hard drives, but they can’t wait to find it.

These records may be as simple as a notebook or a wad of scratch paper. They could be as detailed as anything. Maybe there’s evidence of a cash payroll — which leads to questions of where that cash came from (the bank? really?) on top of issues of tax and benefits evasion. Maybe there’s a little black book recording paid bribes, or extortion payments received.

Search warrants are often a fine way to gain evidence of embezzlement. Maybe those personal expenses were paid for with the business’s money, or with investors’ deposits. A good search warrant team will have agents who know what they’re looking for, others speaking to the subject. Others will be busy talking to witnesses, family members, employees and others at the location, letting them think the cops know exactly what’s going on, so they’d better come clean.

In a suspect’s home, the search team might see pictures of that really nice boat, or expensive collections, or the like. Investigators love to see things like that, especially when the checkbook doesn’t show those expenses. A lifestyle and possessions beyond one’s official means is going to make them poke around for illegitimate sources of cash.

Obviously, the execution of a search warrant means the investigation ain’t a secret any more. So these usually come at the end of an investigation.

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So how about some examples. Let’s say I have ABC company. Law enforcement subpoenaed or seized a bunch of payroll checks. Every week, my company is cutting a few dozen checks to employees. They all look totally legit, until one of the forensic accountants notices that Joe Blow tends to deposit four or five checks at a time, all on the same day. That means he’s probably not getting them each week like a normal employee, but is receiving a bunch of them once a month. That is typical of a no-show job. Joe Blow and I are now just that much closer to getting caught. Thanks, Joe.

Meanwhile, my manufacturing company DEF sends out invoices every month or so to Jack Nimble, charging tens or hundreds of thousands of dollars for all kinds of different products being delivered. Payment is due on receipt, send the check to my headquarters at 1405 Blank Lane, Suite 120. Unfortunately, the forensic accountant noticed that each month’s invoice number is one more than the previous month’s. Do I only have one customer, for all these things I’m selling? And Suite 120 turns out to be a mail drop box number. Suspicious. They’re going to watch that box and I.D. who uses it, and maybe figure out who’s paying for it. And due on receipt? Someone’s standing on the loading dock with a check for a couple hundred grand? No way. And anyway, how come there are no bills of lading, shipping records, or anything else indicating this really happened? This looks like Jack Nimble is paying me some kickbacks through a shell company.

Original checks are a treasure trove. I’m cutting tons of them to small suppliers, nothing more than $9500 or so. Oddly enough, however, they all tend to get cashed at the same check-cashing joint. They’re not deposited to anyone’s accounts. Looks like I’m laundering some money. Investigators are going to check up on these companies to see if they’re legit, maybe subpoena invoices, bills of lading and purchase order forms to see what’s going on.