Pellicano No Darrow As A Barrister As Trial Opens

Well, Anthony Pellicano's opening argument in his federal racketeering trial was nothing to make Clarence Darrow sit up from the grave and smack his forehead in wonder. Wearing an oversize olive windbreaker and looking reduced in girth, hair (his graying remainder was buzz cut) and gumption, he stepped up to the podium about five minutes after noon. He'd already heard the prosecution's opening statement (evoking how "people on the other side" of Pellicano's cases saw "their most personal, private conversations" shared with their adversaries) and sitting through table- setters by defense attorneys for LAPD Sergeant Mark Arneson (the database spelunker) and computer programmer Kevin Kachikian.

Pellicano granted that prosecutor Kevin Lally (the closing argument will be done by another Assistant US Attorney, Daniel Saunders), framed the Feds' case "eloquently", and quickly began tripping himself up on over Judge Dale S. Fischer's admonition that--as his own representative--he couldn't use the personal pronouns. "Yes, I was a private detective," he blundered early, as she said, "Mr. Pellicano", and from there he alternated monikers, stating things like "Mr. Pellicano had to maintain certain associations with other detective agencies," quickly followed by, "I was very much a secretive person, without question." He said it was "important for clients to have a knowledge their problems became his problems". He dwindled to a close with his explanation, perhaps to be somehow integral to his defense, of his security precautions with his illicit tapes: "the password for the encryption algorithm was contained in a one of a kind program written on Mr. Pellicano's desk...never to be made available to anybody but him."

Later, after a brain-numbing if necessary spell of ID'ing some abysmal photos of Pellicano's office on the day of the FBI's 12-man raid on November 21, 2001, Pellicano cross-examined the FBI agent, apparently with an eye to painting the warrant service as a fishing expedition. (This partook of similar logic to fellow defendant Terry Christensen's failed attempt to get charges dismissed on the basis that the FBI's search parameters were too wide).
Pellicano seemed still annoyed that the government was making a big deal that one of the three safes he voluntarily opened contained, oh, $200,000 in cash, plus jewelry, bullion, two hand grenades, plastic explosive and a detonator (two handguns were retrieved from his desk But he was truly steamed that the government had taken a picture of his drawer containing Bernard Kerik's Lost Son memoir, a photo of Farrah Fawcett, and a shot of him at table with some other mugs (er, "Some gentlemen at a dinner")--"What is the evidentiary nature of any of these items?" he demanded, getting the reply that they may have been some of his fellow operatives who'd also been named in the warrant.

The government's star witness for the day was former slugger (now part owner of the Arizona Diamondbacks) Matt Williams, who grimly but patiently faced the jumbo-sized crowded courtroom and talked about his strayed first wife and the substance abusers around her (inducing him to seek Pellicano's advice--at $25,000 up front-- through a business manager) and his presumably straying second wife, actress Michelle Johnson. In the latter case, Pellicano touted the benefits of well, wiretaps, which Williams ultimately forsook--"It's a illegal act"): "Listen to what she's talking about...one of the best things you learn from that is the mindset--you can also hear if she's bullshiting you." The use of this magical tool, the detective cautions Williams in the crystal-clear tape (he taped almost all his client calls, but most were erased) "Is between you and I and nobody else in the fucking world". Pellicano, per his habit, styled himself as Williams' new best friend, noting he would go left to right with Williams, "Even if I know right is the wrong way to go".