Not since the Pizza Connection case, which ran from October, 1985 to March, 1987, has New York seen a real megatrial.  Yesterday, state and federal agents took down 87 alleged members and “friends” of the Gambinos, the group once headed by the “Dapper Don,” John Gotti after Paul Castellano found that steak disagreed with him.

Ask any OC lawyer in New York about business, and they’ll shrug and say that other than the serial trials against John Gotti, Jr., and the occasional side-show, it’s history.  Not any more.  According to the New York Times, the feds believe they have broken one of the 5 families of La Cosa Nostra. 

The initial shock was that they could come up with 87 people with a purported connection to the Gambinos.  Who knew there were that many still around?  Not surprisingly, the case is based on a snitch:

The case was made with assistance of an informant, a trucking company executive who had been the victim of extortions and who had paid more than $200,000 to Gambino family figures, according to several officials with knowledge of the case. The executive, Joseph Vollaro, served prison time on a drug conviction several years ago and had shared a cell with Nicholas Corozzo, the officials said, and Mr. Vollaro’s successful trucking companies, Andrews Trucking and Dumpmasters of NY, were extorted by Mr. Corozzo and his brother.

While the take-down yesterday was massive, there are two separate indictments involved, a 62 defendant indictment in the Eastern District of New York (that’s Brooklyn, for you out-of-towners) and a 26 defendant indictment in Queens County Supreme Court.

The charges, unsealed in United States District Court in Brooklyn and in State Supreme Court in Queens, include seven murders, three dating back more than a quarter century, and racketeering, construction extortion and state gambling charges

From the word on the street, they’ve thrown every crime that ever happened in New York into these cases.  The cops are closing out every old murder on the books.  Why waste the opportunity when they can cover everything but the kitchen sink in these cases and make it look like there has never been an unsolved crime in New York?

But massive indictments inexorably lead to massive trials.  The Pizza Connection case ultimately saw 22 defendants on trial.  The case took over a year to present, cost the government more than $50 Million and raised legal issues that were roundly ignored because they were so far beyond the pale of the courts to address.  Did anyone think it possible that there would be a reversal and new trial in a case like this? 

The biggest benefit went to lead prosecutor, Louis Freeh, who went on to become a federal District Court judge, and later Director of the FBI, as a reward for a job well done under United States Attorney Rudy Giuliani, who didn’t make out too badly himself.  But the Pizza Connection case was supposed to be the end of drug traffic in the United States, making it worth the cost, effort and expense to due process.  In that regard, it was a miserable failure.

When I first learned of the take-down yesterday, I was talking with a TV reporter friend, who jokingly told me that the 87 were arrested under the “Full Employment for Lawyers Act.”  But for those of us around during the Pizza Connection case remember, the megatrial was a financial disaster for those involved.  Few had the assets necessary to pay for a case that long and involved, and law practices died during the year long trial when lawyers were unavailable to the rest of their clients.  It was a nightmare, and back then the financial reporting requirements (IRS Form 8300) were substantially different than they are today.

Lessons Learned

The Pizza Connection trial taught everyone involved of the insurmountable problems/benefit with the Megatrial.  The first and foremost casualty was due process, primarily described as “spillover prejudice.”  Testimony was presented, day after day, week after week, of criminal conduct that applied in generic fashion to the group, rather than to specific individuals, or to one member of the group but in a way that was designed to taint the group as a whole.  Given the mass of testimony, the length of the trial, the volume of alleged crimes, it became soon impossible for the jury to distinguish what evidence applied to what defendant.  Essentially, it all became a morass of allegations that engulfed the defendants as a whole, with plenty of vagaries and promises to tie it all together later.

The trial itself was a logistical nightmare.  There was no courtroom on the planet large enough to hold this trial, so a gymnasium was converted for its use.  The availability of jurors with a year or more free to sit around certainly strained the concept of a jury of one’s peers.

While this case may bring out an interesting assortment of legal talent, there is a strong likelihood that many (if not all) of the defendants will be unable to retain counsel to represent them in this matter.  Between the limitations on funds available for use to retain counsel, the sheer anticipated length of this case, the potential conflicts of interest that will preclude the usual assortment of lawyers who represent alleged organized crime figures, it is hard to imagine that many defendants will be capable of retaining counsel for the trial, though it’s hard for OC lawyers to imagine themselves standing on the sidelines for a case like this.

From the government’s perspective, a case like this presents a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to grand stand in their war against the Mafia.  Just the word, Mafia, conjures up such exciting images that it captures the publics’ imagination.  Given the popularity and allure of HBOs Sopranos, these cases present the rare opportunity for a spectacle, with allegations of vast conspiracies, murders, all the good stuff that makes for exciting courtroom drama.  Careers are made in cases like these, with the lead prosecutor likely to climb the ladder of legal success to dizzying heights. 

Unfortunately, these cases cannot be prosecuted without the sacrifice of substantive and procedural due process.  That’s the price we pay for a grand spectacle.