In the “Godfather” movies, when someone was to be whacked, there was a saying that the deed wasn’t personal. It was just business.
But in the corruption trial of suspended DeKalb County CEO Burrell Ellis — which goes to closing arguments today — one gets the feeling it is very personal.
Ellis is accused of shaking down vendors for campaign loot, lying to a grand jury and retaliating against those who did not show him proper respect in returning his solicitation calls.
He pleaded not guilty, and for the past year his legal team has torn into District Attorney Robert James, alleging James misused forfeiture funds, illegally videotaped the CEO, and hit up county vendors to fund a senior citizens’ ball that was actually a political event. Judge Courtney Johnson tossed all those contentions, and it seems the defense’s aggressiveness has fueled the prosecutor’s fire.
The enmity between the two legal teams seems to emanate from the two politicians in the midst of this legal passion play. If politics is like “The Dating Game” (it really is, when you think of it), then two years ago, James and Ellis would be the equivalent of DeKalb’s most eligible bachelors.
In 2012, Ellis was rolling easily to re-election. James, in his first term as DA, had indicted Andrea Sneiderman, a Dunwoody mother, for murder in the shooting death of her husband, Rusty.
“I’m not a person who plays it safe,” James told the AJC about his style of taking on risky cases. In fact, he decided to become a lawyer because he was intrigued by the sensational O.J. Simpson trial.
It seemed both men were destined for higher things. Ellis is an Ivy Leaguer, and, though he’s a black Democrat in a red state, was able to cross over racial and ideological boundaries. And James, the son of an NFL cornerback, was too scrappy and ambitious to be bound by something as limiting as a county prosecutor’s office.
As a DA, a person can make a name for himself and jump to something bigger and better. So, fittingly, after getting into office, James was soon digging into alleged corruption in the county’s water and sewer department, a probe that begat a special purpose grand jury, which kicked off a wide-ranging investigation, which delivered him Ellis.
But while Ellis provides the opportunity to garner a top-flight scalp, James had to drop the murder charges against Sneiderman. And that made him appear to many as an ambitious fellow who bit off more than he could chew. Sneiderman was convicted of perjury but is already enjoying life outside of prison.
An Ellis conviction would again make James look like a hard-charging guy going somewhere. But if there’s a “not guilty” verdict, then he’ll have a couple of big ones in the “L” column after his name.
Ellis is largely toast either way. Even if he’s acquitted, he’s forever ruined as a politician and damaged goods as a lawyer. But he sure as heck wants to keep out of prison, which brought him last week to the witness stand.
A defendant taking the stand is a risky move that usually means the defense is reeling and going for broke. In this case, county procurement director Kelvin Walton provided the audio dynamite that blasted Ellis from the defense table into the witness box. Walton turned snitch, wore a wire and gave the prosecution hours of recordings of his former boss.
So Ellis had little choice. Tapes of him telling the oily Walton “dry ‘em up,” (meaning the contracts of a vendor who had angered him by not returning phone calls) seemed to contradict statements he had made to the grand jury. Earlier last year Ellis told grand jurors he didn’t get into the weeds when it came to dealing with contracts, nor did he retaliate.
On the stand, Ellis portrayed himself as a fussbudget (he used the term "stickler") when it came to making sure people called him back. He insisted again and again that he never shook any vendor down for donations, nor did he lie to a grand jury.
“Every statement I made, I believe to be true,” he said of his previous testimony.
When it came time for cross-examination, James, who had sat sideways for most of the trial, staring across in Ellis’ direction, seemed to be hiding a cruel smile when he stood to devour his prey.
His delivery was low-key and polite, yet dripping with condescension and gloved animosity.
“You’re saying it’s voluntary to give to your campaign but mandatory that they call you back,” James said.
After an exchange, Ellis said, “People do not have to call me back.”
James’ playbook (I’m sticking with the NFL theme here) includes setting up a poster-sized sketchpad behind witnesses he wants to carve up. During testimony, James likes to stop the discussion, walk to the sketchpad and write on it, making sure the point remains long after it is stated.
“People do NOT have to call me back,” James wrote slowly so the moment sank in.
Ellis contended that he got information while asking vendors for campaign contributions that helped him as a leader and that benefited the county. He admitted it did chafe him when vendors did not call back, or were rude.
The defendant said he has a duty to investigate flaws in vendors, like impoliteness, just as he would if he found out someone was a terrorist. It was an absurd statement, obviously brought on by the pressure.
Again, James, clearly relishing the moment, slowly circled around behind the witness stand. “Terrorist!” he wrote.
Ellis’ fate is expected to be decided by the jury early this week.
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