Altonites in the News IV.5
Posted: Mon Apr 29, 2002 5:02 pm
Younger Altonites may not realize that the lawyer now defending Providence Mayor Buddy Cianci is Alton's own Richie Egbert. Richie was a camper during the mid- and late-fifties (maybe into the 60's, but that was after my time).
Though Egbert wouldn't admit it for the Boston Globe (article attached)he undoubtedly honed his aggressive courtroom skills on the playing fields of Alton.
(Thanks to Harold Kowal for tipping me off about this article. Harold and I were in the Granite State this past weekend, but were visiting at Tuckerman Ravine, not Clay Point. I Would love to report that we skied down the headwall, but alas, we were thrilled that we were able to make the hike into the bowl -- and back down!)
CIANCI'S DEFENSE LAWYER GUARANTEES A GOOD OFFENSE
PROSECUTORS GIVE HIM CREDIT FOR AGGRESSIVENESS IN COURT
Author(s): Brian C. Mooney, GLOBE STAFF Date: April 16, 2002 Page: B1 Section: Metro/Region
It's probably no surprise that prosecutors tried unsuccessfully to disqualify Richard M. Egbert as the lawyer for Mayor Vincent A. "Buddy" Cianci Jr.'s federal corruption trial in Providence. The big-name Boston lawyer has a history of shredding government cases.
Citing a judicial gag order, Egbert won't say what he has planned for the Cianci case, which is set to begin jury selection tomorrow, but his signature defense is a slashing offense, often an attempt to put the government on trial. He pummeled state prosecutors in the bribery case against former Rhode Island governor Edward D. DiPrete; helped Stephen Fagan, a father accused of kidnapping his children from their mother, escape a prison sentence; and won acquittal for Irving Labovitz, a prominent Springfield lawyer, accused of bribery and bank fraud.
Egbert's skills will be tested in the defense of Cianci, the colorful and popular six-term mayor, who is accused of racketeering, extortion, and bribery. The FBI code-named the case Operation Plunder Dome and spent several years of intensive investigation that includes secret videotapes allegedly implicating Cianci and several others, some of whom became cooperating witnesses.
Jeffrey B. Pine, the former Rhode Island attorney general whose office prosecuted DiPrete, called Egbert "a very skilled trial attorney, excellent at examining witnesses, particularly those who have cooperated with the prosecution."
But he said Egbert went too far in the DiPrete case, eliciting evidence to suggest prosecutors willfully withheld details of deals with witnesses and suggesting sinister motives where none existed. A Superior Court judge threw out the case, but a divided state Supreme Court later reversed the judge - an outcome that Pine said vindicated the prosecution. The lower court judge was wrong, and DiPrete "pled guilty to every charge because he was guilty," said Pine, now in private practice.
To this day, however, Egbert contends the DiPrete case was "fraud and trickery" by the government.
It is a common theme of the combative lawyer, who made his name defending mobsters in Boston and Providence before graduating to high-profile political corruption and white-collar crime cases as far away as Oregon. He rolls his eyes when the "mob lawyer" question comes up. But he counts reputed gangster James Martorano of Quincy among his friends (they were partners once in a real estate deal) and said some of his organized crime cases were "thrilling" and educational.
By many accounts, Egbert is now among the top criminal defense lawyers in the Northeast, if not the country. R. Robert Popeo, a top-shelf Boston lawyer who defended DiPrete's son, Dennis, includes Egbert on a short list of lawyers he would hire if he were in trouble. He said his sometime colleague "has exceptional instincts in terms of where there's a vulnerability and when to go for the jugular."
Egbert's reputation is a product of his courtroom work, not self-promotion. He avoids publicity ("I try to keep my self-aggrandizement from ruining clients") and has turned down many requests to join the celebrity talking heads of television ("Tele-lawyers," Egbert sniffs).
For this profile, he tried to steer the interview toward his "boring life" outside the courtroom: his new passion, golf; concern that the trial could interfere with his role as manager of his son Manny's Little League team; his wife, Patti, who splits her time between veterinary dentistry and managing the books of Egbert's law office. Egbert has two adult daughters, Danielle and Shea, from his first marriage.
In the Cianci trial, which could last more than two months, Egbert will forgo most of his self-described boring life. He says his workdays will grow at times to 18 hours, and he will commute from his Milton home when he can, or stay in the Providence Biltmore (Cianci lives in the hotel's presidential suite) when that's not practicable.
Egbert, cleared by Chief US District Judge Ernest C. Torres to continue his representation of Cianci despite prior representation of a Cianci codefendant and some potential witnesses, would say nothing about his defense or the details of the case.
When he talked about work at all, most of his replies could serve as minimum-response models for his witnesses: one word or brief, declarative sentences.
This exchange was typical.
Q. After law school, did you ever work as a prosecutor?
A. Never . . . I never as a lawyer have stood in front of a judge and asked for anyone to go to jail.
Q. Why is that?
A. I didn't want to.
Q. Why?
A. My choice.
Q. You don't think people should go to jail?
A. I didn't say that. It's my choice not to be the one to make the judgment.
For those who have chosen the prosecutorial career route, Egbert can seem a penance.
"He'll attack the government at every turn, whether it's warranted or not," said Brian T. Kelly, a Boston-based assistant US attorney who has battled Egbert in organized crime cases. "It's a common defense strategy, but he's better than most at it . . . He can wreak havoc, depending on how much latitude he's given" by the judge, Kelly said.
Their battles, however, were strictly professional. "To my surprise, he's actually kind of a likeable guy," Kelly said of Egbert. After he got over the initial annoyance of Egbert's in-court onslaught, Kelly found Egbert "easy to joke around with . . . though he's a tough, aggressive guy."
Egbert, 55, said his love of the law is a product of his nature ("I love to argue; I love a good fight.") and his environment ("the '60s, college, the craziness, the [Vietnam] war, the demonstrations . . . being against the government"). A graduate of the University of Massachusetts at Amherst and Northeastern Law School, he spent four months touring North America on a motorcycle while awaiting the results of the bar exam. The long hair is cut neatly now, and he wears custom-made shirts ("My arms are short").
Hostility toward government endures, however.
"The government's out of control," ever intruding into private lives, Egbert said. In his role, he rails against the perceived excesses of "the extraordinary rewarding of cooperating witnesses" - rats, he's been known to call them - and prosecutors who bury exculpatory evidence.
Though Egbert refuses to represent the so-called rats, several past clients have rolled in recent years, some in connection with the investigation of fugitive gangster James Bulger and his partner in crime, Stephen Flemmi. Unbeknownst to Egbert, his former client, Flemmi, had secretly been an FBI informant for many years.
Unlike some of his famous peers, Egbert doesn't keep a scorecard of wins and losses. He takes on very tough cases, and he's won many but lost some, too.
"Probably some of my best wins have come from pleas," said Egbert, referring to cases like DiPrete's, where a deal results in an admission of guilt but a relatively light sentence. In a plea bargain, the elder DiPrete, who was said to have once dived into a sandwich shop dumpster to retrieve a $10,000 payoff he mistakenly discarded, pleaded guilty in return for a year served in prison and a misdemeanor conviction for his son.
"That's part of the magic of Richie Egbert," said Joseph J. Balliro Sr., a friend and prominent defense lawyer who shares office space with Egbert. "Prosecutors are willing to plea bargain with him on a case because they're concerned that he might win it."
"It's not rocket science," Egbert said. "I don't consider myself to be particularly bright, with all these intellects out there."
Success in the law, he said, is the result of "hard work, preparation, and understanding that what we are talking about are the ways of the world and the ways of people."
This week, he moves on to the ways of Buddy Cianci and Providence, Rhode Island.
kuper@mail.crt.state.vt.us
Though Egbert wouldn't admit it for the Boston Globe (article attached)he undoubtedly honed his aggressive courtroom skills on the playing fields of Alton.
(Thanks to Harold Kowal for tipping me off about this article. Harold and I were in the Granite State this past weekend, but were visiting at Tuckerman Ravine, not Clay Point. I Would love to report that we skied down the headwall, but alas, we were thrilled that we were able to make the hike into the bowl -- and back down!)
CIANCI'S DEFENSE LAWYER GUARANTEES A GOOD OFFENSE
PROSECUTORS GIVE HIM CREDIT FOR AGGRESSIVENESS IN COURT
Author(s): Brian C. Mooney, GLOBE STAFF Date: April 16, 2002 Page: B1 Section: Metro/Region
It's probably no surprise that prosecutors tried unsuccessfully to disqualify Richard M. Egbert as the lawyer for Mayor Vincent A. "Buddy" Cianci Jr.'s federal corruption trial in Providence. The big-name Boston lawyer has a history of shredding government cases.
Citing a judicial gag order, Egbert won't say what he has planned for the Cianci case, which is set to begin jury selection tomorrow, but his signature defense is a slashing offense, often an attempt to put the government on trial. He pummeled state prosecutors in the bribery case against former Rhode Island governor Edward D. DiPrete; helped Stephen Fagan, a father accused of kidnapping his children from their mother, escape a prison sentence; and won acquittal for Irving Labovitz, a prominent Springfield lawyer, accused of bribery and bank fraud.
Egbert's skills will be tested in the defense of Cianci, the colorful and popular six-term mayor, who is accused of racketeering, extortion, and bribery. The FBI code-named the case Operation Plunder Dome and spent several years of intensive investigation that includes secret videotapes allegedly implicating Cianci and several others, some of whom became cooperating witnesses.
Jeffrey B. Pine, the former Rhode Island attorney general whose office prosecuted DiPrete, called Egbert "a very skilled trial attorney, excellent at examining witnesses, particularly those who have cooperated with the prosecution."
But he said Egbert went too far in the DiPrete case, eliciting evidence to suggest prosecutors willfully withheld details of deals with witnesses and suggesting sinister motives where none existed. A Superior Court judge threw out the case, but a divided state Supreme Court later reversed the judge - an outcome that Pine said vindicated the prosecution. The lower court judge was wrong, and DiPrete "pled guilty to every charge because he was guilty," said Pine, now in private practice.
To this day, however, Egbert contends the DiPrete case was "fraud and trickery" by the government.
It is a common theme of the combative lawyer, who made his name defending mobsters in Boston and Providence before graduating to high-profile political corruption and white-collar crime cases as far away as Oregon. He rolls his eyes when the "mob lawyer" question comes up. But he counts reputed gangster James Martorano of Quincy among his friends (they were partners once in a real estate deal) and said some of his organized crime cases were "thrilling" and educational.
By many accounts, Egbert is now among the top criminal defense lawyers in the Northeast, if not the country. R. Robert Popeo, a top-shelf Boston lawyer who defended DiPrete's son, Dennis, includes Egbert on a short list of lawyers he would hire if he were in trouble. He said his sometime colleague "has exceptional instincts in terms of where there's a vulnerability and when to go for the jugular."
Egbert's reputation is a product of his courtroom work, not self-promotion. He avoids publicity ("I try to keep my self-aggrandizement from ruining clients") and has turned down many requests to join the celebrity talking heads of television ("Tele-lawyers," Egbert sniffs).
For this profile, he tried to steer the interview toward his "boring life" outside the courtroom: his new passion, golf; concern that the trial could interfere with his role as manager of his son Manny's Little League team; his wife, Patti, who splits her time between veterinary dentistry and managing the books of Egbert's law office. Egbert has two adult daughters, Danielle and Shea, from his first marriage.
In the Cianci trial, which could last more than two months, Egbert will forgo most of his self-described boring life. He says his workdays will grow at times to 18 hours, and he will commute from his Milton home when he can, or stay in the Providence Biltmore (Cianci lives in the hotel's presidential suite) when that's not practicable.
Egbert, cleared by Chief US District Judge Ernest C. Torres to continue his representation of Cianci despite prior representation of a Cianci codefendant and some potential witnesses, would say nothing about his defense or the details of the case.
When he talked about work at all, most of his replies could serve as minimum-response models for his witnesses: one word or brief, declarative sentences.
This exchange was typical.
Q. After law school, did you ever work as a prosecutor?
A. Never . . . I never as a lawyer have stood in front of a judge and asked for anyone to go to jail.
Q. Why is that?
A. I didn't want to.
Q. Why?
A. My choice.
Q. You don't think people should go to jail?
A. I didn't say that. It's my choice not to be the one to make the judgment.
For those who have chosen the prosecutorial career route, Egbert can seem a penance.
"He'll attack the government at every turn, whether it's warranted or not," said Brian T. Kelly, a Boston-based assistant US attorney who has battled Egbert in organized crime cases. "It's a common defense strategy, but he's better than most at it . . . He can wreak havoc, depending on how much latitude he's given" by the judge, Kelly said.
Their battles, however, were strictly professional. "To my surprise, he's actually kind of a likeable guy," Kelly said of Egbert. After he got over the initial annoyance of Egbert's in-court onslaught, Kelly found Egbert "easy to joke around with . . . though he's a tough, aggressive guy."
Egbert, 55, said his love of the law is a product of his nature ("I love to argue; I love a good fight.") and his environment ("the '60s, college, the craziness, the [Vietnam] war, the demonstrations . . . being against the government"). A graduate of the University of Massachusetts at Amherst and Northeastern Law School, he spent four months touring North America on a motorcycle while awaiting the results of the bar exam. The long hair is cut neatly now, and he wears custom-made shirts ("My arms are short").
Hostility toward government endures, however.
"The government's out of control," ever intruding into private lives, Egbert said. In his role, he rails against the perceived excesses of "the extraordinary rewarding of cooperating witnesses" - rats, he's been known to call them - and prosecutors who bury exculpatory evidence.
Though Egbert refuses to represent the so-called rats, several past clients have rolled in recent years, some in connection with the investigation of fugitive gangster James Bulger and his partner in crime, Stephen Flemmi. Unbeknownst to Egbert, his former client, Flemmi, had secretly been an FBI informant for many years.
Unlike some of his famous peers, Egbert doesn't keep a scorecard of wins and losses. He takes on very tough cases, and he's won many but lost some, too.
"Probably some of my best wins have come from pleas," said Egbert, referring to cases like DiPrete's, where a deal results in an admission of guilt but a relatively light sentence. In a plea bargain, the elder DiPrete, who was said to have once dived into a sandwich shop dumpster to retrieve a $10,000 payoff he mistakenly discarded, pleaded guilty in return for a year served in prison and a misdemeanor conviction for his son.
"That's part of the magic of Richie Egbert," said Joseph J. Balliro Sr., a friend and prominent defense lawyer who shares office space with Egbert. "Prosecutors are willing to plea bargain with him on a case because they're concerned that he might win it."
"It's not rocket science," Egbert said. "I don't consider myself to be particularly bright, with all these intellects out there."
Success in the law, he said, is the result of "hard work, preparation, and understanding that what we are talking about are the ways of the world and the ways of people."
This week, he moves on to the ways of Buddy Cianci and Providence, Rhode Island.
kuper@mail.crt.state.vt.us