In January 2004, Richard Aldrich, a California state appeals court judge, decided to refinance his 8,200-square-foot house next to a Jack Nicklaus-designed golf course at the Sherwood Country Club in Westlake Village. He turned to a prominent Sherwood member: Countrywide Financial chief executive Angelo Mozilo.

Aldrich’s application was assigned to a loan officer named Robert Feinberg; the judge was seeking a $1 million loan and a $900,000 line of credit. By email, Feinberg alerted Mozilo that the credit line was “above what guidelines allow.” Mozilo responded, “Go ahead and approve the loan, and close it as soon as possible. Don’t worry about this deal, it’s golden.” Countrywide further waived half a point, or $5,000 on the million-dollar loan. (Homebuyers can reduce their interest rates by paying points, which are equal to 1 percent of the value of a loan.)

That wasn’t Aldrich’s only contact with Countrywide. At the time he refinanced, a class action lawsuit against Countrywide was pending before the appellate court, brought by borrowers contending that the company offered an inadequate payment to settle allegations that it charged excessive fees for credit reports. That August, Aldrich was part of a three-judge panel that unanimously rejected the borrowers’ appeal. (View a slideshow featuring "V.I.P." loan recipients.)

According to a person familiar with the case, Aldrich did not disclose his relationship with Countrywide to the plaintiffs or offer to recuse himself. California’s judicial code of ethics states that judges cannot accept gifts or favors from donors “whose interests have come or are reasonably likely” to come before them, nor can they take out a loan at better terms than are available to other borrowers. Reached by phone, Aldrich denied receiving a below-market loan and hung up.

Countrywide’s generosity to Aldrich reflected a broader strategy. Through a program that provided loans on favorable terms to V.I.P. borrowers, the nation’s largest mortgage lender curried favor with politicians, government officials, and business partners who were in a position to influence policy, profits, or public opinion. While some may not have been fully aware of the special terms, many took the bait. Some, including Aldrich, appear to have skirted or violated conflict-of-interest rules or ethics policies.

Feinberg, who served as gatekeeper for the V.I.P. program from 2000 to 2004, wrote hundreds of millions of dollars’ worth of loans—as much as $400 million in 2003 alone—for customers whom his superiors had singled out for special treatment. After he filled out the applications, they were processed by a V.I.P.-loan underwriting unit, which had its own branch number in Countrywide’s recordkeeping system.

The vigor with which Countrywide chased V.I.P.’s was matched only by the aggressiveness with which it marketed loans to risky borrowers. In the past year, Countrywide morphed into the Chernobyl of the mortgage meltdown, with the F.B.I. investigating its lending practices, its stock plummeting, and Bank of America buying the company at a fire-sale price. Much as the high­fliers of the internet bubble crashed overnight, the company that symbolized the housing market’s boom has quickly come to define its collapse.

In June, Condé Nast Portfolio disclosed the names of five V.I.P.-loan recipients: Senators Christopher Dodd and Kent Conrad, former cabinet members Alphonso Jackson and Donna Shalala, and former United Nations Ambassador Richard Holbrooke. The Wall Street Journal reported that James Johnson and Franklin Raines, both former C.E.O.’s of government-sponsored mortgage buyer Fannie Mae, received favorable rates.

But many other V.I.P. borrowers haven’t been named until now, including former Countrywide director Henry Cisneros, who served as secretary of Housing and Urban Development in the Clinton administration; former White House staffer Paul Begala, now a commentator on CNN; and Postmaster General John Potter. Countrywide also offered special discounts to Congressional staffers involved in housing issues.

Current or prospective business partners who received special treatment include former C.E.O.’s William Esrey of Sprint, which teamed up with Countrywide to provide property information to homebuyers on their cell phones, and Bruce Karatz of KB Home, a leading homebuilder that refers customers to Countrywide for mortgages. The biggest subset of V.I.P.’s included Mozilo’s network of friends, business associates, and people he wanted to ingratiate himself and his company with; they were known in company emails and memos by the initials F.O.A.—Friends of Angelo.

A Countrywide spokesperson declined to comment for this article and turned down Condé Nast Portfolio’s request for an interview with Mozilo. Feinberg, the V.I.P.-loan officer, eventually grew disillusioned with the loan program. He left Countrywide in 2007 and agreed to be interviewed.