Stupid Frigging Fool
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Stupid Frigging Fool By Roy Den Hollander Part 7 Back On The Chain Gang “Hello,” I said answering the telephone. “Mr. Den Hollander, this is Bruce Claugus. I’m representing the Bank of Cyprus.” “What can I do for you?” I courteously and insincerely replied. Pompously Claugus said, “We just received your RICO Complaint last Friday and would like you to stop by our offices either today or tomorrow to discuss it.” Gee, how nice of this puffed-up attorney to give me a choice of today or Wednesday. The really bizarre part, however, was asking me to stop by his office. The case was still in the motion to dismiss stage, and none of the defendants were about to consider settlement until at least discovery. So there was nothing to discuss. A face-to-face meeting made no sense unless he wanted to psychologically maximize the impact of some less than subtle threat. Then again, maybe this wasn’t a lawyer at all, but someone wanting to catch me at a particular time and place. Whatever the purpose, it surely wouldn’t benefit me. So I asked him, “Why?” “We conducted an investigation into your allegations and found them groundless.” Next to “frivolous” and “baseless,” “groundless” is another most favored word of defense attorneys whose clients are guilty. Once again, I hit my record button. “Okay, you’ve told me, so why do you want to meet?” Another question went through my mind that I didn’t bother asking. If these lawyers received the Complaint on Friday but today was Tuesday, March 30, 2004, how could they conduct an investigation in such a short time and 1 over the weekend no less? No, he lied; he was trying to get me into a situation where he and another attorney or two would lean on me, and, if I didn’t break, they’d simply lie to the court about what I said. Since I was both the plaintiff and my own attorney, anything I said the defense lawyers could try to use against me in court as a party opponent admission. And in a meeting with two or three other lawyers, the court would believe them as opposed to just me. Claugus answered, “Since we were unable to find any evidence of your allegations that means you’re barking up the wrong tree.” Oh brother, does this guy really expect me to believe that if they found evidence of their client laundering money for the Russian mafia, they would tell me? No, they’d tell me just what he’s saying in this lame authoritarian attempt to psychologically undercut my resolve. Claugus then segued into a phony sympathetic and confidential tone, “It seems to me the nub of your complaint. Let me close my door here, hold on.” I liked that touch: just us two guys talking. “You know it seems to me the nub of your complaint is that you married badly and then had trouble getting rid of this woman. Same thing happened to me. But I didn’t blame my banker or her banker.” Was this supposed to make me believe we were brothers in harm? I didn’t respond, just let him talk as I learned in the media decades earlier when doing undercover stories: let them ramble on, they may put their feet in their mouths and it makes for a clearer sound track. “We had absolutely nothing to do with this!” Back to sounding authoritative while repeating the same tired cliché that defense lawyers always say about their clients, as though anyone believes them. “So we’re given the choice of either persuading you to drop us from the Complaint or defend the thing. We’re prepared to do either.” Naturally they are, since either 2 serves their interests: impressing the client if I let them go or making money, but why bother telling me what I already knew? So I responded, “Well then defend it because I’m not going to drop the Bank of Cyprus as a defendant in the Complaint. I can tell you that right now.” “Alright, we’re going to proceed to defend, to defend vigorously, and we expect to be fully exonerated.” Another hackneyed lawyer expression. Claugus then switched to the typical lawyer threat for scaring people off of their rights, “and when we do that, we are also going to move for sanctions. This is utterly and completely ridiculous. I’ve practice for 28 years, never seen a complaint as preposterous as the one that you brought, at least as to my client. I don’t know about any of these other things and allegations that you make. But the Bank of Cyprus is completely in the clear. And the information we already have indicates that. And if you are not prepared to listen to us and respond responsibly, then we’re going to take whatever steps we have to in order to get ourselves exonerated and make ourselves whole for whatever it is we have to spend to deal with this complaint. Are we clear!!” Now that last sentence was a combative remark deserving a two-knuckle punch to the bridge of his nose, but I was on the telephone and this pretentious lawyer only bored me. So, I matter-of-factly responded, “Are you threatening me?” “No I’m not threatening you!” “Ohhhh yes you are.” “I’m explaining to you.” Lawyers always say that after they’ve threatened someone who wouldn’t do what they want. Still matter-of-factly I replied, “No, you’re trying to intimidate me, and you’re trying to coerce me. Now I told you in the beginning, I am not going to drop the Bank of Cyprus from 3 this Complaint. If you would like some productive information and are interested in what is going on currently in this case, I can give you the name for the lead attorney for the defendants, which I will do as a courtesy to you. If you are interested?” If John Madison-Pierre and the F.B.I. can sarcastically use the word “courtesy,” so can I. “What I want to know most, is how it is you specifically think the Bank of Cyprus is implicated in anyway?” Claugus knew better than to ask a question like that of an opposing attorney. It’s such an obvious sophomoric trick to get the other side to admit something that will certainly be twisted out of context. But this guy actually believed I would try to convince him of the merits of my allegations against his client. There’s no way that a lawyer collecting high fees would ever be convinced that the sun rises in the east, if his client’s case depended on it rising in the west. “Well, that’s a deposition question, now isn’t it?” I answered. Silence, which I chose to break. “I’ve given my answer to your efforts of what I consider are meant to intimidate or threaten me.” “I’m not trying to intimidate or threaten you. My client based on the investigation that we have done had nothing to do with any of this. We’re going to defend.” “I expected that.” The sparing over, Claugus asked for the name to the lead defense attorney, which he should have requested in the beginning and saved us both the unnecessary sand throwing. So now there were seven lawyers for the defense with whom to fight: three from small law firms, one from the City and three sole practitioners. Seven guys who in the proud tradition of the law as it really works, not as portrayed on television, believe winning is everything. 4 Of all the defendants served up to this point; that is, the ones whom I could identify and find addresses for in America, Russia and Cyprus; only Flash Dancers, Cybertech Internet Strip Club, Mundy, Petrovich, the Commie Ho, Paulsen, Henning and the Bank of Cyprus hired attorneys. The Mexican defendants had not yet been brought into the case. My Spanish translator needed more time than she originally believed to work on the Complaint, so it delayed serving the bloated drug-trafficker Alfredo who spent a weekend in Italy with my then wife of two and a half months, the assorted white slavers: the Julia Heart Agency, now called Malbros, and its former manager Maria Serrato, both of which recruited hos; the strip joint The Men’s Club, which hires the hos; Salvador, Leo’ partner for funneling Russian sluts into Mexico; Max Garcia Appedole, who bribes Mexican officials to provide the whores work visas. But it didn’t matter because in federal courts there’s no deadline for serving foreign defendants. By the end of March, the Spanish version of the Complaint was ready to go. The Mexican government, which considers America the dumping ground for those citizens it can’t take care of due to chronic corruption, actually requires stricter procedures for service than other countries, such as those in civilized Europe. Guess Mexican officials need to assuage their suspicion that we Americans might lie about legal proceedings in our courts. The south of the border pillars of truth and justice required the clerk of the U.S. District Court to sign in pen, not with a stamp signature, all the summonses. The signed summonses then went to the United States Department of Justice so that the Attorney General could sign a document, in pen, saying the signature of the U.S. District Court’s clerk was really the clerk’s.