Thomas Adcock - Brooklyn Noir 3 - Nothing but the Truth

The judge helped Siminovsky draft the memo, seeming disinterested as he gave dictation.

“The only evidence in the case is... whatever the hell it was by stipulation or blah, blah...” he said. Then he gave a bit of unsolicited advice to Siminovsky. He wanted his boy to cash in on the extra work they were doing. “I am telling you, charge for it... This is extra... this was not contemplated... The judge made me do it... Fucking squeeze the guy...” Garson said.

Less than a week later, Siminovsky slipped an envelope containing ten marked $100 bills to the judge, as thanks for referring a client to him. The judge stuffed the envelope into his pants pocket, even though he was prohibited from taking referral fees. It was only after Siminovsky left that the judge, alone in chambers, opened the envelope and counted the cash. He panicked, and summoned Siminovsky back.

“Yeah, ah, Paul, this is, ah, Garson, do me a favor, ah, why don... ah, if you can get back here I’d appreciate it,” he told the lawyer by phone.

When Siminovsky returned, the judge said, “This is a lot of money for whatever you call it...”

He gave back the bills, but Siminovsky told him, “Don’t worry about it,” and threw the envelope on the judge’s desk.

Garson picked it up and half-heartedly tried to hand it to Siminovsky again — there was at least three feet between the far edge of the envelope and the tips of the lawyer’s fingers — and then put it in his desk drawer.

After a little more back and forth between the two, Garson finally said, “I appreciate it.”

Earlier that same day the judge had made a remark to Siminovsky about his work that would prove prophetic: “One of the greatest things about this job is I don’t know what the fuck I have tomorrow until I get here. I don’t give a shit either, you know.”

Two days later, the judge got the shock of his life, before he got to work. Investigators picked him up outside his Upper East Side apartment and took him to the same army barracks in the shadow of the Verrazano Bridge where they’d brought Siminovsky.

Garson was carrying the marked $100 bills — and insisted on a lawyer (not Siminovsky).

Once the attorney arrived, the judge refused to cooperate. That was when investigators asked if they could speak to him alone.

They fed Garson a little detail: The candy dish Siminovsky regularly reached into on the judge’s desk had broken recently — and had to be replaced.

That seemingly harmless anecdote got the judge’s attention. How could anyone know it unless the place was bugged? Then a peek at the cigar video had the judge singing a tune far different than his raunchy renditions in chambers.

A fidgety Garson — who took long pauses between sentences as if to catch his breath — offered to help prosecutors nail Brooklyn Democratic Party bigwig Clarence Norman. And as if getting pledged into Siminovsky’s new fraternity, Garson agreed to wear a wire. He maintained he could prove that on sale in Kings County was far more than the justice that prosecutors suspected, but whole judgeships.

Despite the try, Garson turned up nothing. However, prosecutors have credited the judge with providing information that led to Norman’s subsequent indictment on unrelated corruption charges.

On April 23, 2003, Garson traded his robes for handcuffs. He turned himself in — a stogie in his mouth, curl of smoke swirling upward — under the lights of TV and newspaper cameras, so his fingerprints and mug shot could be taken.

“When I asked him, ‘Why did you do this with Siminovsky? Why did you take care of him? Why did you accept that?’ he said, ‘I like him and he kind of reminded me of myself,’” Vecchione said.

Siminovsky has pleaded guilty to a misdemeanor charge of giving unlawful gratuities for wining and dining the judge in exchange for receiving lucrative guardianship jobs. Prosecutors have asked that he be spared jail time, but he could be sentenced to up to one year behind bars.

Having resigned from the bar and having promised never to practice law again in New York State, Siminovsky is doing manual labor in a warehouse to help support his wife and two kids. He’s a key witness in Garson’s upcoming trial.

Also busted were Elmann, Levi, and others, including a court clerk and court officer accused of steering cases to Garson’s courtroom for cash and cameras — bypassing the computerized random-selection process aimed at stemming corruption.

Among the others were a rabbi and his daughter, who greased Elmann’s palms in an attempt to get Garson to rule in their favor.

While most wore frowns as they looked forward and then to the side for the mug shots, Garson sported a smirk across his lips and a steely glint in his eyes.

Suspended without pay from his $136,700-a-year job and later retired, Garson maintains his innocence. He is awaiting trial on charges of receiving bribes in the form of drinks and dinners from Siminovsky. He is not charged with fixing cases for cash.

Garson claimed he was on his way to report Siminovsky to authorities when he was intercepted by investigators.

“I regret very much not turning in Mr. Siminovsky immediately,” he told CBS News as the media storm continued.

His lawyer, Ron Fischetti, has maintained the judge was set up. He has convinced a judge to throw out many of the charges. While Brooklyn D.A. Charles Hynes is appealing, left are one felony and two misdemeanors.

“It’s an extremely weak case and I think he’ll be acquitted,” Fischetti said.

Elmann — the mysterious electronics salesman — has pleaded guilty to thirteen counts, including seven felonies of bribery, bribe-receiving, and conspiracy. He’s throwing himself on the mercy of the court at sentencing and could get anywhere from probation to twenty-eight years. There is no evidence he knew Garson personally.

“You see, I bullshit these people left and right just for [them] to come up with money,” he once told Siminovsky. “... I don’t give a shit about them.”

Levi, fifty-one, has pleaded guilty to giving Elmann $10,000 to fix his case. There is no direct evidence that Garson ever received a dime.

Rabbi Ezra Zifrani, sixty-seven, and his daughter, Esther Weitzner, thirty-seven, each pleaded guilty to one misdemeanor conspiracy charge in exchange for 210 hours of community service and three years of probation. They made it clear in court the only person they knew was Elmann.

Court Officer Louis Salerno — caught on videotape taking from Siminovsky a bag prosecutors say contained a VCR and DVD player outside the courthouse for steering cases to Garson — was convicted at trial of two felonies: taking a bribe and receiving a reward for official misconduct. Salerno, fifty-two, faces up to seven years behind bars.

Retired Court Clerk Paul Sarnell, fifty-eight, has been acquitted of bribe-receiving.

Hanimov’s husband was never charged with any wrongdoing. There was no evidence to support Elmann’s claim that he had tried to buy the custody of his children.

Hanimov has landed herself a $200,000 movie contract with Warner Brothers for the rights to her story, heads a support group for women, and is looking forward to the final reallife scene of the saga, testifying against Garson.

“One of the happiest days in my life was when Judge Garson got arrested,” she said. “He destroyed many, many, many lives.”

Her best reward of all, of course, has been gaining custody of all three children. She is enjoying them now, along with the baby she gave birth to before Garson’s bust.

“If a mother loses her kids, she lost one of the parts of her body. When you take her kids away from her, her life is over,” she said. “Thank God, I have my kids back.”

POSTSCRIPT: Since this piece was written, more of the Gerald Garson saga has played itself out.